#spotless series
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Spotless: Schleppen
Chapter Sixteen
Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela
Other characters: Sam/Madison, Lee/Pam/Benny, Jesse/Cesar, Charlie/OFC, unnamed female character
Word Count: 2644
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, everyone is hungover, Dean steps in it, Sam is so done with their shit, unbeta'd
Series Masterlist
Dean didn’t sleep. Or if he did, it was in the last gasps of darkness and so short, he couldn’t feel its relief. Alcohol affects the REM cycle, so whoever taught him to have a drink before bed to help with his insomnia (John) was wrong. It was just one of the many things he’d learned in therapy. Dean found he had many things yet to unlearn.
No one who had stayed over was in any better shape when he got downstairs.
Bela and Trouble had bunkered down on the couch in the den, Charlie had claimed one of the bedrooms with a woodland elf, the other spare went to Pam and Lee, but Dean was pretty sure he had heard Benny through the walls, so maybe him too. The other girl Charlie brought along was on the floor curled around Jesse fruitlessly, because Cesar, who was sitting with his back to the end of the couch, still asleep, held his partner’s head in his lap. He wondered if Sam was already up and running until Madison came down the stairs in search of caffeine with a shirtless and rumpled Sam on her heels.
“Morning,” Dean said smugly to them both.
Madison met his gaze and tried not to blush, which Dean found oddly refreshing, while Sam just flipped him off and dove in for a cup of coffee before it was even done brewing.
They moved in hushed whispers, but the Winchesters’ words were doomed to carry with their baritone. After Madison admonished them for not having more to eat in their fridge, Dean stepped up and ordered a combo of both greasy and sweet options to be delivered with an impressive tip to the driver for their discretion.
Bela helped herself to Dean’s shower and some of his clothes. And if anyone had found it odd that they hadn’t slept together, no one was ballsy enough to mention it. Or maybe they were all just too hungover to care.
He still hadn’t seen Pam and company emerge and he wondered if he was going to have to risk walking in on some alternative hangover cures.
Luckily for everyone, the pounding on the front door for the food was enough to rouse the stragglers and beckon them back to civilization.
“Happy 2018 everybody!” Pam croaked with a shiteating grin on her face as she took in everyone’s subdued state.
She was met with lackluster replies, grumbles and a very sarcastic cheer from Charlie. She tutted at them and sauntered her way towards the jelly donuts.
As rough as he felt, Dean lived for mornings (or early afternoons) like this. His kitchen was filled with people he loved, sharing food and just existing together, safe and warm. It’s what being in a band was all about. He started another pot of coffee when Bela slinked over and hugged him from behind, resting her face between his shoulder blades.
“I’ll just have a nap right here, thanks,” she mumbled against his shirt.
“Oh yeah?” Dean peered down at her. “You know, you can take my bed if you’re still tired, not gonna rush anybody out today.”
“‘S too far,” Bela complained. “And I already showered, no sense delaying the inevitable.”
Dean turned in her arms, letting her rest against his chest instead. He rubbed her back and looked up when he felt someone watching him. You sat folded in on yourself on one of the tall chairs, looking as if you were going to puke all over the counter.
“You okay over there?” Dean asked, more alarm slipping into his voice than the jest he intended. He cleared his throat, but didn’t let go of Bela as she turned to look at who he was talking to.
Gaping at him like a deer caught in the headlights, you nodded.
Dean reminded himself to breathe, feeling everything you were saying by the look in your eyes. He fucked up. But in that moment there was nothing he could say that would fix it. Bela was supposed to be his girl, it would be too obvious to step away from her now.
As much as he suddenly wanted distance, he held on tighter, like she was a shield against his feelings for you. And against the look of betrayal in your eyes.
“When do you want to leave— Y/N?” Bela broke through Dean’s silent spiraling and started making plans to get home.
“Lemme drive you guys— could use some fresh air,” Dean cut in before they could order a ride.
“Are you sure? I’m a little out of the way,” you asked, worried over being a burden or being trapped in a car with him, Dean couldn’t be sure.
“Positive, just say when, and I’ll get Baby all set to go,” Dean insisted.
Bela kissed Dean on the cheek and thanked him for a wonderful time, promising to text him her schedule later. She reached over the backseat to grab your hand, smiling mischievously, “another one for the books. See you at brunch?”
“If I can eat by then,” you muttered, smirking as she slid out of the car.
“Bye!” Bela called as she disappeared through the door from the garage into the kitchen.
Dean cleared his throat and leered at you in the rearview mirror.
“You gonna come up here or am I gonna have to call you Miss Daisy?”
You rolled your eyes at him, but you didn’t open your door.
“I can wait all day. If you think you can out- stubborn me–,”
“FINE!” you snapped, throwing open the door and almost slamming it into Bela’s car’s rear end. “Asshole.”
Dean tried not to laugh outright, but you were kind of adorable when you were pissed. Once you were situated in the passenger seat, purse and coat lumped on your lap and seat belt secured, Dean continued to wait.
“What?! We can go now.”
“Easy! I’m just adjusting my mirrors, don’t want to back into anything,” Dean added with an air of responsibility.
“You so were not,” you grumbled, huffing before leering at the sideview as Dean crawled out of Bela’s driveway.
It was going to be a long drive.
Once they were out of the canyon, Dean decided he was going to have to put some of those lessons from Missouri to use. “So— you wanna talk about it?”
You glared at him like he asked if you wanted to eat your jacket.
“Come on, I know you’re pissed. Let me have it,” Dean egged you on, okay, maybe he could have said that better.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you muttered, eyes on your hands.
“Really? You gonna pretend you’re not having a bitchfit right now?”
“Dean Henry Winchester, do not make me call Charlie and tell her you called me a bitch.” And just like that you were all in. “I cannot believe you right now.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“No, look, you can’t just go around kissing people and then shoving your relationship in their faces. It’s called mixed signals, asshole!”
“Oh, so you can call me an asshole, but I can’t call you names?!”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “It’s not the same and you know it.”
Dean sighed, he was letting himself get defensive instead of focusing on what you were really saying. It suddenly felt like a horrible idea to have this conversation when neither of you could escape.
“I don’t know what relationship you’re talking about— the fake dating thing you roped me into?! Cuz that’s not real, that’s playing nice— for you!” Dean hadn’t realized how much he resented you for this whole set up, but now that the words were out of his mouth, things made a lot more sense.
“Bullshit,” you spat.
“You want me to ignore her, huh? Pretend she’s not there, in front of everybody this could hurt if it gets out that it’s all a lie?!”
You turned on him then, taking a deep breath as Dean made sure he wasn’t too distracted to drive. “Is it a lie?”
Dean looked back at the road and licked his lips. How much did you know? How much was it safe to tell you? How much of Bela’s life was private, even from you?
“What are you talking about?! Of course it’s a lie, an act, a ruse! You were the mastermind here, remember?!”
“You know what, Dean? I think the lady doth protest too much,” you said. “I think you know it was wrong to do what you did, but now you’re trying to pin this on me. When I only did it to cover your ass!”
“That is so not fair. I own my shit. What are you really pissed at here? Me in general? Me kissing you? Me hugging Bela? Me making your job harder? WHAT?!”
You groaned. “YES! Okay? YES!”
You stopped your tirade and looked at him and Dean felt you deflate as he glanced back onto the road ahead.
You started over, trying for calm, “you are inherently annoying, I think we both know that.”
Dean huffed. “Yeah, thanks.”
“No, listen. I knew this thing wasn’t going to be easy— for any of us. But it’s the best way to turn everything around. But— if you can’t do it anymore, if there’s something you need to tell me, I’ll understand. We’ll figure it out, okay? Just— just don’t lie to me, okay? I can’t fix things if I don’t have the whole story.”
Dean felt about two inches tall. He wiped his hand down his face and growled, pissed at himself and whatever you were fishing for. Because it was still all his fault. Somehow, he had gotten you home, he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.
“I can do it, okay? This is on me. I’ll make it right. I’ll be on my best behavior, get us out on tour without a hitch. Make the label all the money and start to earn back everybody’s respect. I owe them all that much,” Dean promised to your suspicious face.
“Dean—”
“What?”
“Is there anything I should know? Seriously. I won’t be pissed. I just— feel like, like I’m out of the loop on this.”
“You were there all night. I think you got a good idea how things are going. Uh, what more can I say, you know? I’m sorry, though, for making you worry. Okay?” Dean ducked his head, making sure you were seeing him, eyes trying to make you see what he couldn’t say, but what he most definitely felt.
Maybe he hadn’t learned anything from Missouri at all. But he was still trying.
“If you’re sure— we’ll keep it going. We've still got over a month before we’re on the road, but it’s gonna go fast now. I just need you to be on your A game,” you said firmly, cementing it into the fabric of your shared reality.
Just keep carrying on.
Dean could do that. He had to.
“Sounds like a plan. And Trouble, do me a favor?” Dean leaned over, slipping into his charming self. “You gotta loosen up, okay? Get a hobby, get laid, just find somewhere to put all this shit you carry so it’s not weighing you down. Okay?”
You sighed and rolled your eyes, tossing the door open and crawling out. “Like it’s that easy. Happy New Year, Dean, drive safe.”
“Later.”
Dean waited until you made it into the house before starting the engine back up. He didn’t go home right away, instead he took a drive along the coast, letting his mind try and untangle the knot you’d just made by having that conversation.
Six am came way too early the following morning and with it, Sam pounding on Dean’s door to get his ass downstairs and into the gym. Right, his New Year’s resolution and his fucking brother holding him to it.
“Gotta piss, calm down Billy Blanks,” Dean groaned, rolling out of bed.
He did his business, changed into something he could move around in, and finally found some tennis shoes at the back of his closet.
By the time he made it into the part of their basement they had turned into a gym, Sam was already sweating with a jump rope warm up.
“What?! I’m here aren’t I? It’s not that late,” Dean grumbled at Sam’s judgey face.
They worked out with little discussion, spotting each other when they moved onto weights. They hadn’t worked out the details of this new shared routine, but slowly Dean felt it falling into place. The strain of his muscles and the swelling of his lungs all reminded him to be present and mindful. To let his body take over building when his mind wanted to use it to punish.
After they had stretched and were winding down, Dean decided to tape up his hands and spend some time on their speed bag. But, of course, that drew Sam’s attention.
Anything that hinted at Cain or Alastair always did.
“What?”
Sam looked him over. “You good?”
Dean didn’t want to have a different version of the trainwreck conversation the day before. But Sam knew everything, more or less anyway. Dean didn’t look up from his task, mesmerized by how soft his knuckles had gotten recently.
“I kissed Trouble.”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Sam laughed, actually, genuinely laughed at him. “How’d that go?”
Dean considered the act itself. “Well—- she didn’t hit me.”
Sam sat down on the end of the bench, settling in for the dirt. “Were you expecting her to?
Dean looked over and saw Sam was no longer teasing. “Could you blame her? Some guy like me? A fuck up with a history of diddling her friends?”
“Dean.”
“I know, I know. Believe in myself. I am worthy of love. I know, okay. Just… she didn’t say anything. Just stood there after pulling away, staring at me in total shock.”
“Did she kiss you back?”
Dean thought about it, remembering the way your mouth let him in. “At first, yeah.”
Sam chewed that over. “Does Bela know how you feel about her?”
“Sam, I’m not even sure how I feel about her.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah you are. You just have been too stupid and self deprecating to do anything about it. Does she?”
Dean shook his head.
“Are you guys fucking?”
“Not like, committedly.”
“Okay, well, you should probably stop that. And tell Trouble how deep you’re in it. Like, I hate being alone with you two, it’s so obvious.”
Dean flipped Sam off.
“What? No, I’m serious. You guys just need to get over your shit and tell each other how you feel. And warn me, because I do not want to come home for like a week after all those years of tension is finally worked out, god.”
Dean kind of gets lost in that image for a minute. “Nah, we’d go to her place. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Sam couldn’t even tease him after how pathetic he sounded. “But first you need to tell her.”
Dean sighed. “I can’t. I promised her I’d behave and stick to the plan. I can’t risk pissing off Dick and Crowley anymore, I don’t want to jeopardize the band.”
“I’m pretty sure I told you this was a bad idea and I just want to reiterate that point,” Sam snarked.
“Yeah, well, them’s the breaks,” Dean huffed as he hauled himself up and squared off with the hanging bag.
He found a rhythm and kept on his toes.
“Dean, seriously, just tell her how you feel. Life’s too short, you know?” Sam said to Dean’s back.
Dean sighed, upping his pace. Because, yeah, life was really too short.
But there was still nothing he could do about it now.
Author's Note: LISTEN! I did not even outline the first 2/3rds of this chapter. IT just HAPPENED, so yeah, they're still both idiots.
Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
@ladysparkles78
@deans-baby-momma
@stoneyggirl2
@sassy-pelican
@leigh70
@globetrotter28
@winharry
@lastactiontricia
@rockhoochie
Chapter Seventeen: Trill
#spotless series#dean/reader#dean/bela#fake dating#rockstar au#slow burn#dean angst#dean winchester fanfiction#should i be calling this a love triangle
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intro (end of the world) ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ | jack hughes
“how can i tell if im in the right relationship?”
☼ pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader
☼ summary: after seeing jack for the first time since your breakup, you’re left seeking advice from your nonna…
☼ fia’s note 💌: first part of the series! thx for joining us on this 13-part-series, i’m very excited for what’s to come <3 pls enjoy “intro (end of the world)” ❤️🔥❤️🔥
eternal sunshine hq ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
next part: bye ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
*₊ ° . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
For the past two months, you’ve felt your chest tighten and your throat well up whenever you went to bed. The other side of the mattress felt absent and empty, like the space was waiting idly for a person who would never return.
But today felt different. You saw him for the first time since your breakup. His arm was slung around Nico’s shoulder at the cafe downtown as they talked about their next game against the Pittsburgh Penguins. You didn’t feel like curling up into a ball and rolling out of there before he could see you. No, you felt like breaking into a full-on sob, letting the tears rack through your body and shake you up until you were at his feet, begging him to take you back.
Yet you stood there and you watched Jack talk with Nico, and you clung to your chest, and you stretched the suffocating collar of your scratchy sweater, and you watched him meet your eyes—and you watched him look away. It was like your two-year-relationship was never a thing, as if he had erased all memories of you from his mind. It was like you were no one to him.
Looking around, the cafe seemed smaller, as if the walls were closing in on you and you had to get out quickly before you were trapped.
You sprinted back to your apartment in record time, and upon opening the door, your back hit the wooden slab as you slid down to the ground, pulling out your phone from your pocket. Your hands were shaking, your chest was rising up and down without fail, and your vision was blurred with the amount of tears falling down your pale cheeks.
You waited two rings until your grandmother picked up. She was your safe haven for all things in life. She always knew exactly what wise words to say, and while she was thousands of miles away, you imagined her stroking your hair as you laid your head down on her lap, asking her how life was so easy for her. She would say that her life was everything but that and then go on a long speech about her younger days. That was all you needed now, and all you wanted in the future: to have her, to hear her advice and life lessons, and to pretend she’s still there stroking your hair, wiping your tears, and humming her perfect girl to sleep.
“Nonna?” your voice was shaky and tired, and she could sense it immediately. You could hear her tell your grandfather that she would be in the bedroom if he needed her.
“Sweets? Are you alright?” You missed her voice. It felt like you were calling her less and less nowadays. You hoped she would forgive you for that.
“I,” you stammered, clinging to the silver pendant around your neck. “I feel like every time something good happens to me, it all just…fades away and I hate feeling this way. I hate it, but I don’t know what to do,” you whispered. It all just felt impossible, like feeling happy held this small entity in the back of your mind, telling you that it could all be over in just a matter of seconds. You felt that in your relationship with Jack, you felt that when you saw him earlier, you’ve been feeling that way ever since you walked out of his life.
Being with him wasn’t a solution, but not being with him also wasn’t a solution to your problem. You were stuck and you were clueless as to what to do next.
“Oh, honey,” Nonna’s voice was soft and full of empathy. “Life has a way of tossing us into turbulent seas, but remember that storms eventually pass, and the sun always rises again. You’re feeling the weight of loss now, but that doesn’t mean happiness won’t find its way back to you.”
“But that’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of the happiness, of finding someone new and getting hurt again.” You paused, sniffling before asking, “How can I tell if I’m in the right relationship? I feel like…like you’re supposed to know that type of stuff but I’ve never felt that, or maybe I’ve felt that too much and it’s never been true. I just… I don’t know. I really don’t know.”
#eternal sunshine ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes au#jack hughes series#jack hughes#new jersey devils#eternal sunshine#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind#ariana grande#jack hughes imagines#jack hughes imagine
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SCREW YOU- PRETTY MAN BEAM!!!
#my babygirl#hes so pretty#my art#ghost trick cabanela#cabanela#ghost trick#ghost trick phantom detective#ghost trick fanart#spoilers but ->#his dress actually has some thought put into it!#its his usual spotless white yeah#but i wanted to bring in the red of his 'one big mistake'#and it was just. too good an opportunity to not do sequins in a blood splatter pattern#a true stain ^^#teehee#anyways this will probably be a series. of all rhe GT men in dresses#i have a written list#including nameless side characters#do not underestimate me
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Clementine Kruczynski | Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind (2004)
#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind#kate winslet#clementine kruczynski#movies#cinema#film#indie film#movieedit#cinematography#tv series#series#movie scenes
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I think its a crime that Payu didnt actually have scratches on his back 😔
#love in the air#love in the air the series#payurain#payu x rain#there were no scratches on his back#he was shirtless when he was working out and his back looked spotless
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hey sorry your girlfriend erased you from her brain. yeah she said you guys had a bad relationship and she just never wanted to think about it again. sorry :/ anyways do you want to also erase her from your brain—
#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind#i saw someone else’s post and thought it was referencing this but it was abt another movie/series#emma shut up
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Just reached 20K words on my next Moon Knight fic! It’s looking like it’ll end up being another 30K fic, so it’s still a little way off from being posted. And most of the snippets I want to share (and god I want to share them so bad) are kind of spoilery for the overarching plot, so for now I will simply pique your interest with what I have deemed the story’s “vibe moodboard”:
Make of it what you will.
#my fic stuff#moon knight#esotam series#eternal sunshine of the absent mind series#not gonna announce the name yet BUT i will do the acronym for it and you'll just have to ponder what it could stand for#IYA(RTMOGD)#(i'll give you a clue: one of the words is absence...gotta keep that naming scheme consistent)#feel free to make some guesses#okay so there's a lot of things shown here so from left to right top to bottom it's *deep breath*:#mr robot. adventure time. doctor who. eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. madeline miller. before i forget (game). homecoming (tv).#in the mood for love (movie). finding nemo. the magnus archives. omori (game). michael in the bathroom (song). frankenstein (book).#palimpsest (podcast). steven william (photo). waiting in the wings (song). jeremy miranda (painting).#ocean vuong. love like you (song). the invisible life of addie larue (book)#alright that's all of it woof#some of those repeat by the way I put mr robot & adventure time & doctor who in a few times#a few of these are just quotes that clicked but most were things i 'researched' (love 'researching' tv shows and moves')#(it's both a. great way to trick my brain into watching stuff because it's for 'educational purposes' and b. a good way to procrastinate)#(or the secret third thing c. crying over something because i've now made the mental connnection between it and moon knight)#(*cough* magnus archives episode 170 recollection *cough*)#anyway....this one's gonna hurt
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I just read the Captive Prince series in a cool 48 hours despite having a full time job based on that one art you posted of Damen and Laurent with the cuff and ???? Help ???? It was amazing. I loved all three books SO much. I love sweet, brave Damen and insane, sexy Laurent so much. And, of course, I love YOU so much.
We're gonna do a group re-read in June and I expect to see you there anon
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THE PRIDEFUL GAMER (M)
SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part two of a series! read part one for context!
PAIRING | best friend!haechan x reader
SYNOPSIS | lee donghyuck had the largest ego you’d ever seen for someone who stayed cramped in their dorm room all night playing video games; but when you stay in with him the night after a raging party, you find yourself realizing that ego just might be deserved.
WC | 10.8k
WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, hyuck shirtless and covered in paint, party games, comments abt virginity, switch!hyuck (slight sub, lean dom), sexual content (nothing too crazy).
A.N | i know you guys have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to the hype :) and if it doesn't - sorry
“Haechan, I need you to fuck me.”
Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, tired eyes ringed with heavy circles and glinting in judgement.
This was fucking ridiculous.
No matter how many times you sat in front of the mirror and practiced, you couldn’t get the words out with a straight face. Even the wet dreams that plagued your sleeping hours weren’t enough to prepare you. After all, you still couldn’t believe what you were going to ask Haechan to do. Or participate in, rather.
It wasn’t that you were scared, or that you didn’t want it, because trust and believe your mind and body both craved him; it was just stressful. Asking your bestfriend to give you some dick and then go on and mind his business like nothing happened?
Unfathomable.
But it was Haechan, and something in your brain told you he’d jump at the chance to fuck you; at least you were hoping so. How could you not think that when he said things like –
“If I open the door, am I gonna see boobs?”
Case in point.
You yell back, a blush of embarrassment heating your face while you fumble around to act like you were putting on makeup and not practicing asking him for sex, “No you pervert!”
The door swings wide open and the boy in question steps into the tiny room, “That’s a damn shame.”
God Damn.
Ever since that alcohol induced dream, your body had taken the liberty of reacting every time you caught sight of Haechan. It didn’t matter if he was drunk with pasta sauce smeared all over his face after he smashed a bowl of ravioli (true story), or if he was all done up for a class presentation on the history of the toaster oven (out of all things); your body reacted the same either way.
It went further than just sight though. If you so much as smelled someone wearing similar cologne to what he normally wore, arousal bells started ringing and you had to sprint home to relieve the ache between your legs.
This time wasn’t any different.
Fluffy, dark brown hair is what you see first, gelled stylishly in effortless waves around his head, save for the small curls on the nape of his neck. When you move your gaze lower, you lock eyes with his, and a spark of curiosity blooms. Then it’s his perfect pink lips set in a cute pout, and rounded jaw that you often stared at when he ate because it made you think of how good he’d be at eating you out. The thoughts start to creep into your mind, and you have no choice but to shake them out and replace them with something else, which so happened to be his outfit…or lack thereof.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a cute tummy with faint lines and deeply toned biceps. You’d punched him in the stomach once before, and you didn’t need to see abs to know that that man was rock solid. Multicolored neon body paint decorated his torso and back, tiny splatters here and there, but the star of the show is a lime green handprint wrapped around his throat (Jaemins probably). His black sweats also had paint on them, but his combat boots didn’t have a drop of color. If he expected to get out of the frat with them looking spotless, he had another thing coming.
“You do know the theme is neon?” His voice jolts you back into reality, and the blush that was gone finds its way back to your throat and cheeks. You were literally sitting in front of the mirror with a neon pink bralette on, why was he asking you this? Slightly, you nod. “Then why are you staring at me? I know I’m not ripped like Jen or Jaem, but come on, I can rock the dad bod!”
“Haechan. Take this with a grain of salt, but you have a decent body.”
Automatically, the compliment goes to his head, “Wanna see all of it sometime?”
Yes, please.
“No.”
A cheeky smile forms on his lips, “Thought so…”
“I’m actually surprised you’re going. Don’t you have a video game competition or something?” You stand up from your spot in front of the vanity and grab your leather jacket that was laying on the rack beside it.
“I can’t pass up free liquor. You know this.”
For some reason, your outfit seems like its missing something, and desperately your eyes are searching for it… ah! A necklace. You couldn’t go in a frat without some form of jewelry. Unable to reach behind yourself and clasp it, you hold it out to Haechan who doesn’t hesitate to grab it and push your shoulder, so your back was to him. “So, the plan is to get hammered?”
Tender fingers brush aside your hair, a spark igniting in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost giddy at his touch, and you’re not sure you entirely hate it. You anticipate more, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands reach around your throat, the heavy pendant resting at the base of your throat while his fingers work at the nape of your neck to clasp it.
“The plan is to get absolutely drunk, find a bad bitch and fuck her till the entire house knows my name.” His voice is low, dropping right next to your ear, and the air blowing from his lips makes your shiver into his touch at your neck.
“S-Sounds like a good plan.” you whisper.
What was this boy doing to you?
“Wanna help?”
“H-Help? Help with what? Help you?”
He backs away, hands held out in front of him and a smile cracking his features, “Yeah. Wanna help me find a frat bunny?”
I’m right here.
“Oh, uh, sure.”
“Perfect.” He starts to head out before turning back to you, “You didn’t think I was gonna ask if I could fuck you… did you?”
Your response comes out suspiciously fast, but Haechan had pregamed before stopping at your dorm, and he definitely didn’t catch it, “No! I would never! You’re like… really fucking gross. Sorry Hyuck.”
“Ahhh, theres the Y/N I know!” he claps you on the shoulder, “By the way, Jeno and Jaem are waiting in the car downstairs so hurry up.”
With that, he’s gone, the slamming of the front door resonating deep in the pit of your stomach, your nerves buzzing, and every muscle tense.
This was going to be a long night.
People were already throwing up in the bushes by the time you and the boys arrived, but you’d rather wade through puke than sit in Jeno’s car a second longer.
The entire ride to the frat house was a mess. From being squished between Jaemin and Hyuck, thanks to Jeno reserving the front seat for his precious bottles of Smirnoff and Hennessy (Seriously, he wouldn’t move them. He even buckled them up in case he crashed the car. As if the bottles wouldn’t break.) to having one of said bottles passed around the backseat and promptly spilled all over your upper body; you couldn’t take it anymore.
Unfortunately, the situation was made worse by Haechan's actions. As the cold alcohol spilled all over you, his hands peppered over your body, gliding through the sticky liquid that was rapidly drying. When he touched the lace of your bralette, his fingers inadvertently brushed against your nipple, reigniting the warmth in your stomach.
You really hoped he hadn’t noticed.
Jaemin, on the other hand, kept shoving his arm around to try and garner your attention towards his phone, which had pictures of sorority girls pulled up.
“Which ones should I take back to my place tonight?” He kept asking you, again and again and again until you and his minty breath were quite acquainted.
Needless to say, you wanted out.
So, when the car came to a screeching halt along the sidewalk, you were all but climbing over Jaemins lap to get the door open.
“You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have you all over me, but this isn’t what I meant.” The flirtatious jokes from Jaemin were already starting, but he wasn’t the target tonight, Haechan was.
“Sorry, Haechan’s body odor was starting to get to me.” You send a warm smile to the boy clambering out of Jeno small coupe behind you.
“I literally haven’t even started being mean to you yet, why are you throwing insults?” Haechan stands tall, the heels of his combat boots making him tower over you, “And I’m wearing old spice anyway, this shit lasts ages. You must have been smelling Jaemins dick… I heard it’s quite overused.”
The pink haired boy whips around, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, “Why are you mad I get more pussy than you?”
Jeno thrusts a bottle of alcohol into you and Haechans hands, leaving Jaemin empty handed, who looks at you with a pout. You uncap your bottle, a dark thing of Hennessy, and pass it to him.
Haechan snorts, “Not mad, just annoyed that you keep me up all night with your grunting.”
Jaemin passes the bottle back to you and gives you a wink, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the four of you start walking through the grass and up the steps to the frat house.
The front lawn was littered with red, plastic solo cups, ping pong balls, and empty beer cans. Toilet paper hung around a poorly spray-painted piece of cardboard that read, ‘welcome to the jungle’. College students hung around the porch smoking cigarettes and weed, and somehow a joint ends up between your fingers before you’ve even reached the front door.
“Wanna shotgun that?” Haechan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows when you shove the loosely wrapped blunt between your lips.
Inhaling takes a minute, the burning sensation of the weed filling your lungs and immediately reaching your bloodstream. You blow the smoke directly in Haechans face as a way of declining his offer, though pressing your lips against his and sharing a smoky kiss sounded real good right then.
He waves a hand in front of his face, “Fine. I see how it is.”
Whoever handed you the blunt plucks it out from between your fingers before you can pass it to Haechan and disappears around the side of the house.
“Well, that was mean.” Jaemin sighs defeatedly.
“I’m pretty sure Renjun is inside selling if you want to buy something off of him.” Jeno shouts over his shoulder.
“Fair warning though, he doesn’t roll well.” You spit tiny green pieces of marijuana onto the front walkway and cringe at the taste. There was a reason you didn’t like edibles.
Jeno just nods to the freshman pledge assigned to door duty (a scrawny boy who went by the name of Shotaro) and shoulders the front door of the house. Immediate booming bass finds your chest and rattles through you, the smell of spilled alcohol and cheap drugs clouding the house in a thick smog. Black lights hang from the ceiling, the people loitering near the entranceway glowing brightly in neon oranges, blues, green, yellows, and pinks.
You vaguely notice a few of the brothers roaming around passing out beers to the partygoers, but one in particular notices the four of you crowding the entrance and discards his last beer to a random girl at his side before jogging over.
“Jae!” Jeno and the brother lock hands and embrace, slapping each other’s backs in a way that looked painful.
The only reason you had gotten into the frat parties all year long was because of Jaehyuns and Jeno’s relationship – they were on the hockey team together, and brothers.
Jung Jaehyun was a senior, the head of the most popular frat on campus, NEO, and Jeno’s half-brother. You’d never really interacted with him, but from what you heard, he was a nice guy with an even nicer girlfriend, and they were head over heels in love with each other. You didn’t see her around anywhere, not that you would know what she looked like.
“Looking for someone?” Haechans voice, gravelly and low, finds your ear and makes you shiver despite how hot it was in the house. You hated the way he made your body feel, but not as much as you should have.
“You’re about to be looking out of one eye if you don’t back the fuck up.” Hostility was not your strong suit, but Haechan just drug something out of you.
“Jesus Christ, you need to drink. You’re so much better drunk. A lot nicer.” He smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can physically feel your heart beginning to melt.
A little voice in the back of your head is telling you to say, and you’re so much better when you shut up, how about you put that mouth to use between my legs?
But you refrain.
It’s very hard to refrain.
You almost slip.
That is, until you realize Jaehyun has since walked away and left the four of you to party how you please.
“Okay. I’ll be staying sober. Well, as sober as a good couple blunts make me. Please try to stay in the house, it makes it so much easier when it’s time to go and I have to round you jack offs up.” Jeno smirks, handing his bottle of alcohol to Jaemin who gladly takes it.
You’re surprised he hasn’t already gone looking for someone to fuck, it was well known that him and Jaehyun didn’t particularly get along. Something about Jaemin fucking Jaehyuns ex… you didn’t know the full story.
Jeno grabs Haechans bare shoulders, “Please, for the love of God, do not jump in the pool again. Last time you almost drowned and I don’t feel like planning a funeral for your sorry ass.”
“I make no such promises, but I will try my best.” The younger boy beams.
“Alright, go have fun, and try not to catch a STD. I’ll be over with Renjun if you need me.” And with that, your friend Jeno breaks from the group, his neon painted bare back shining brightly amongst the crowd right before he fades in.
Jaemin breaks off almost immediately after chugging the bottle of alcohol Jeno had given him.
Haechan, who wasn’t one for parties and usually stayed holed up in his dorm room playing video games all night, sways by your side awkwardly.
“Aren’t you gonna go find a frat bunny to fuck?” You shout over the blaring music.
He looks almost nervous when he shifts his gaze to you, “I don’t really see anyone of interest… except you of course. Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?” A shit eating grin blinds you right before he lifts the Smirnoff bottle and takes a swig, finishing it with a grimace.
Wouldn’t it be nice to say yes and get his part of the challenge over? Fuck, how you wanted to grab his hand and drag him to the nearest bathroom, but frat parties weren’t the place to hook up, and you wanted to take your time with him anyway.
“I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
“You’re telling me you don’t wanna hit this?” He rubs his free hand across his chest and stomach, dipping it so far as to drag down a bit of his sweatpants. A strong V-Line peeks out and you almost choke on air, eyes bugging out of your skull.
“Keep your fucking clothes on Hyuck.” You sputter.
He cocks an eyebrow and reaches out for your hand, which you hesitate to take. What was he doing? Was he trying to bring you into the nearest bathroom?
All he does is tug you towards the main room, an open area full of students dancing, drinking, and smoking, “Interesting… Come on, let’s party.”
The feeling of his calloused fingers enlaced with yours was enough to send your mind spiraling deep into the thoughts that plagued your dreams – like what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your neck, or shoved between your thighs, maybe even down your throat.
Mentally, you tell your brain to shut up (it always did get slutty in these environments).
“Y/N!!” A girly voice shouts off to your left, dragging both you and Haechans attention. Lisa, a girl in the same major as you, who you’ve known for a couple years now, is barreling toward you and the boy you’re linked hand in hand with. She shoves a few partygoers to the side, an opened beer can in her hand which she’s cautious enough not to spill.
When she finally makes it to your side, her eyes dip down and make note of your hands crushed together, a freshly waxed eyebrow popping up in question at you. Immediately you yank your hand away from Haechan, who glares in protest but doesn’t say anything.
“I didn’t think I would see you here!” She’s beaming head to toe and slings a paint splattered arm around your shoulders.
You smile back, “Jeno made me come.” She’d had a crush on Jeno for ages, and from the look on her face at the mention of his name, it still existed.
“Oh, he’s here? I didn’t even know!! I need to go find him asap.”
“Well yeah, it’s his brothers party and all…” Haechan pipes up from beside of you, nervously biting at his nails. He always chewed his cuticles unrecognizable.
She looks up at him with a weird expression before extracting her arm and turning to face you, her back to Haechan, who sneers and throws up a middle finger in her direction. It makes you chuckle, but thankfully she doesn’t question it.
“Well, a bunch of us are playing games upstairs if you wanna join.”
You start to say no, but you can tell in her eyes that she wasn’t going to take that as an answer, so you nod your head, “Sure.”
A squeal so loud heads turn, erupts from her mouth, “Good!!! Ima go find Jeno and then head up there. I’ll see you soon.” And with a kiss to your cheek, she’s gone.
“Well, guess we’re playing games.” Haechan huffs, reaching for your hand now that she was gone, “I hope it’s spin the bottle so I can kiss you.”
Me too.
Rolling your eyes, you start towards the stairs, “Haechan?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
Haechan didn’t shut up.
In fact, he kept his mouth running all the way up the stairs, through the bodies loitering in the hallway, around a puddle of puke, and into the makeshift living room Lisa must have set up.
Not like you were paying much attention to what he said anyways. Instead, your mind chose to focus on the way his back looked in the dim lighting of the frat house. Underneath a layer of pretty tan skin, the boy was all muscle, stretching and tensing when his lithe legs carried him up the inclined stairs. And when he turned around to make sure you were still following him, despite his hand being attached to yours, you notice the muscles carried all the way around to his abdomen and torso.
Because the house was hot and humid, the paint splattered on his chest was fading and streaking. The neon paint dripped down his body, with some even dribbling into the waistband of his sweatpants. The idea of the paint staining his v-line creates a sensation of warmth in your stomach.
You wanted to see him naked so bad and it made you mad.
What happened to the boy who stayed in his room every day and barely touched vegetables? What happened to him being a friend and just that? Had one night of drinking skewed your common sense? Or was this just a side effect of the challenge you were doing?
Whatever, he’s fucking hot and he has a big dick, you argue with yourself, images of what you saw on his phone flashing through your mind.
Haechan getting his dick sucked by some random girl, forcing her to deepthroat and then whimpering.
The thought alone almost makes you steer him into the nearest bathroom, but the makeshift living room comes too soon.
“I literally can’t get rid of you.” Jaemin perks up from his spot on the floor, bottle of liquor tucked away in his lap.
“Talk to Lisa.” You shoot back flatly.
As you glance around the room, you realize that the only person you recognize is Jaemin. While a few faces seem familiar, you can't recall their names or where you may have seen them before.
Hyuck guides you over to the circle where everyone is seated and takes a spot, leaving you to settle in opposite him. "Looks like it's just you and me," he says with a grin, displaying his gleaming white teeth. You can't help but wonder how they would feel against your inner thighs, and you unconsciously clench them together while crossing your arms.
You didn’t know how long Lisa and Jeno were going to be, or if she was still downstairs recruiting more players, but you’re lucky not to be left alone with your thoughts too long, because a couple minutes later, she, Jeno and Jaehyun (surprisingly) filter into the room, one after the other.
Haechan’s eyes cut to you, and he smirks, eyebrows wiggling in a stupidly suggestive way.
“Okay! Seems like we got enough players.” Lisa pipes up, taking the spot next to you that sat empty (thankfully no one had sat and tried to make acquaintance. you were too sober for that). Jeno sits off to your right, and Jaehyun takes the spot next to Haechan.
Jaemin leans in towards the circle, appearing invested as he asks, "What game are we playing?" His gaze travels up and down Lisa's body, and he licks his lips. You roll your eyes; of course, she was the one he was after tonight. Too bad her eyes were on Jeno.
She gives a short giggle before replying, “How about seven minutes in heaven?”
A low murmur ripples through the circle but affirming head nods set the game in motion.
Honestly, you find the game awkward and childish, something played in your early high school years, but maybe the universe and luck would be on your side tonight.
Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get into Haechans pants? This silly little game was the perfect opportunity.
He seemed to be on the same wavelength because one glance and you see him making kissy faces directed at you.
Why the fuck was he so weird?
And why did you want to crawl across the circle and kiss him?
“Great, can we use that bottle Jaemin?” Lisa asks, and he’s quick to shove it in the middle. He must really want her to come home with him tonight if he’s giving up his alcohol that easily – or the bottle at least.
Lisa takes a finger and spins the bottle, the handle flying around so fast it looked like a blur. You hold your breath, silently praying it doesn’t land on you. You could probably hear a pen drop in the room (plus the thumping bass coming up through the floorboards).
It comes to a standstill, pointing at a random girl you’ve never seen before. She looks nervous, but that was to be expected, right?
Lisa spins the bottle again and you thank your lucky stars when it lands on another girl in the circle.
Two girls down, about 12 of you left.
The next few rounds follow a similar pattern, with two unfamiliar people being chosen and then awkwardly leaving the circle. At some point Jaemin and a blonde headed bimbo filter off to surely fuck.
The game starts to feel pointless, but then the bottle lands on you.
Haechan immediately perks up from being previously slumped against a pillow. The bottle of Smirnoff by his side was slowly draining, and you could tell he was feeling it a bit. A rosy blush spread itself on his cheeks and his eyes shined bright. An eager look crosses his face when Lisa tips the bottle into spinning.
Whoever it landed on was going to be shoved in a tiny closet with you for the next seven minutes. Time ticked slow, your eyes following it’s every move.
Spinning.
And spinning.
And spinning.
And stop.
“No fucking way.” Haechan pouts.
Your eyebrows raise, a short, disbelieving laugh rushing past your lips. The bottle has landed between Jaehyun and Haechan, more towards the latter, but nearly dead set between.
“Well, who is it then?” Haechan urges, pushing himself up on his knees, “Cause it’s more towards me, so I think it’s only fair…”
“Maybe by a single degree.” Jaehyun argues, locking his eyes with yours and giving a lopsided smile.
It strikes you as odd that Jaehyun, who you're pretty sure has a girlfriend (Jeno had mentioned her once or twice), is even participating in the game. Despite this, he seems to be making eyes at you, smiling with deep dimples and winking. You just stare back at him, causing the tips of his ears to flush red. You weren’t going to be the cause of a scandal if he was, in fact, still dating that girl.
So the dilemma (that wasn’t really a dilemma) dawns on you. Your best friend or the boy who (maybe) had a girlfriend? You contemplate storming out of the room and forfeiting the game – but what was the fun in that? And anyways, Haechan looked like he was getting antsy.
“Come on Hyuck.” you grumble, pushing yourself up off the dusty floor and slipping out into the semi-crowded hallway. The boy eagerly follows on your heel until you’re shouldering a random door and slipping into a dark room.
It feels much bigger than the closet you were envisioning, though where was the fucking light? Both of you search the walls to no avail. Faintly, you see the outline of a bed and walk over to it, dropping down on the sunken mattress – Haechan following your lead.
“What a coincidence that it’s you and me. I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck me, but seriously, how did you rig a spin the bottle game?”
In this moment you’re glad for the darkness enveloping the room – then he wouldn’t see the shock and embarrassment flooding your face.
Defensively, you shove his chest, “Shut up. I didn’t rig the game.”
The smirk is almost evident in his tone, “Oh, but you do wanna fuck me?”
“No – Haechan I wanted to play a game. Of course fate would give me your ass.”
“Maybe fate wants us to hook up.” he murmurs.
I’d agree with fate then, you think.
A million thoughts flood your mind in a millisecond. How convenient it was that you were stuck in an empty room, with a bed, with Hyuck – with a shirtless Hyuck. The dim lighting outlines the contours of his chest, and you can feel yourself clenching your thighs together for what felt like the umpteenth time.
“Would you like that?” You whisper, slightly leaning closer to him. He wasn’t that far away. Maybe a foot at most.
“Is the sky blue?” He retorts, ever so slightly leaning into you too.
You roll your eyes, “Is that a trick question – because it’s nighttime right now and the sky is black.”
“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me and find out.”
His voice is lower than normal, which surprises you. But not as much as the statement. You knew he was like this – forward and flirty. Though it’s different when you actually want to reciprocate.
Time slows down and the electricity of the moment surrounds you two. His lips are inching towards your own, long, slender fingers grabbing your thighs.
Fuck, it’s happening – Everything you’ve been dreaming about for weeks on end. How did this happen so fast?
You can smell the alcohol on his breath – wondering if he’ll taste sweet like brandy.
“Hyuck…” you whisper, “ I-“
Light and sound flood the room, startling the fuck outta you and making you jump three feet back into the headboard.
“Oh shit –” the partygoer curses.
The girl on his arm giggles, “’m sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in on you two!” They slam the door, and the muffled sounds of the party bring you back to the present.
Yellow spots cloud your vision as you fumble to stand up, almost tripping over what you can assume to be a backpack.
You swallow thickly, “Let’s go back downstairs.”
“I’ll meet you down there.” Haechan whispers, one hand running through his hair, “You go on ahead.”
Without another word, you slip into the hallway and slink down the stairs – into the hands of hundreds of drunk college kids. You see Jaemin taking shots and Jeno smoking it up with Renjun.
What the fuck just happened.
And why did I ruin it.
After a good twenty minutes away from each other, you realize he was the only person who you cared to hang out with. So, you found him utterly intoxicated on the kitchen floor and forced him to dance with you.
Well really you just forced him off the kitchen floor which he really didn’t want to leave, but once he was up and moving, he took you by hand and made the night worthwhile.
Now two hours later, with most of the alcohol Jeno had supplied gone, all you can think about is sucking Haechans dick.
It’s because of the way he danced (and smelled, and looked, and…). His hands reach out and greedily grab at your waist, fingers twisting through the empty belt loops of your jeans. A bit of the paint he had on was smudged against you, thanks to him pulling you into a bear hug earlier in the night.
He was drunk, and it made him extra touchy. Though you didn’t mind, in fact, you welcomed it now that your resolve was slipping. So, when he pushes you against the wall, one hand held high over your head, his other circling your jaw, it’s no surprise that your heartbeat goes wild. A blush rises hot on your face; his eyes finding yours and piquing with dull amusement.
“I gotta tell you a secret-” he slurs, swaying in your arms. He thinks for a minute before putting a hand over his mouth, “Wait, I can’t tell you.” When you don’t respond, instead, electing to stare at him in amusement, his lips jut out into a pout, “Why don’t you like me?”
One of your hands pushes against his slick with sweat chest, “I do like you?” Your breathing becomes labored when his lips pull back in a sloppy grin.
“You like me? You like me!!” Haechan teeters a bit to the left, almost falling into another couple that were vigorously making out, “They need to get a room… we need to get a room.”
We had a room.
“We need to get a room?” You question, eyes widening when he leans in so close he’s only an inch away from kissing you.
“Can I kiss you?”
It feels like the room comes to a crescendo, every sound clashing yet becoming silent at the same time. All you can think about is his mouth and how pretty and pink his lips are. How it would be heaven to meld into the strong grasp of your best friend. How the constant nights of intimate dreams of him weren’t enough to satisfy you. How you should have taken him up on his offer in that damn room.
How you wanted to go to that damn bathroom now.
But this was wrong.
The wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything.
You were drunk, he was more than drunk, and surely that would affect whether you thought he fucked the best.
From around his shoulder, you spot Jeno staring at you with a beer in his hand – so much for staying sober. He’s smirking, slightly chuckling, and cocking his eyebrows at you as if asking, ‘you gonna kiss him?’
“Haechan.”
The boy has gone from being semi coherent to humming some sort of song that wasn’t even close to the one that was playing.
“Haechan!” you shake his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of the stupor, and suddenly he stands up tall.
“Y/N, I missed you!!! What are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing you for the first time.
He was too drunk to function. You should have expected as much, but you’re still slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to go forth with your plan.
You sigh and grab his arm, the disappointment nearly sobering you up, “Let’s go find Jeno and get you home, okay?”
His eyes go frantic, “We can’t forget Jaemin! We have to find Jaemin!!!”
“Don’t worry Hyuck, I’d leave you here sooner than I would him.”
Maybe then I wouldn’t have the urge to ride you on the frats sofa.
“Meanie.”
Steaming bags of takeout hang off your arm as you fumble to push your way through the unusually small dorm door.
“Hyuck! Jaemin!” you yell, hoping one of them would dart out of their room and help you with the load of cheap food you were threatening to drop on the ground. You shouldn’t be surprised when all is silent except for the smash of controller buttons and Haechans frustrated screech.
You wade through the mess that nearly makes you gag – piles of clothes, dirty socks and mud caked shoes. Books and pages of lecture notes litter the ground accompanied with crushed RedBull cans – evidence that Haechan did indeed leave his room at some point.
“Yo, you really need to clean this shit up.” you pantomime throwing up and toss the bags of takeout on Haechans dark blue bedspread that was actually made for once.
His back is to you, eyes trained on the video game he was playing, giving you a half-hearted grunt to acknowledge what you said. The too-big headset threatens to engulf his head, nearly sliding off as he jolts forward in the gaming chair.
“Fuck! Fuck! No… no… don’t… SHIT!” Exasperation floods his tone once the screen turns completely red and his character returns to the main lobby. “You guys suck ass.”
Without hearing their response, he shuts off his monitor and spins around to face you, who was patiently waiting on his bed, “Sorry. I woulda got the door for ya, but…” he gestures behind himself.
“It’s fine.” you mumble.
His eyes travel from your face and to the short ass skirt that was slung over your hips. Immediately your face heats up. Why was this awkward? Does he even remember what happened last night? How you almost kissed in some random frat bros room? Or how he had you pressed up against the wall, asking to kiss you. Does he remember the drive home? How he laid in your lap, drunkenly massaging your thighs? Surely he had to remember you tucking him into bed with the promise of takeout tomorrow night?
But when you look him in the eyes, you just see your friend eager to eat – not someone who you nearly fucked last night.
You clear your throat, “Um, where’s Jaemin?”
Haechan shrugs and starts sifting through the boxes of rice and pork cutlets, “He left early this morning. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Bet that means he’s going to get some pussy.” He takes a bite of rice and speaks through the mouthful, “Twenty four hours though? That’s a long ass time for him.”
You snort and take the box of rice he was gesturing towards you, “Nah, that’s light work for Jaem. As long as he lets us know he’s alive, I think a sex bender might be best for him.”
“You know, he’s still mad that you wouldn’t let him leave with that girl last night.” Haechans laugh rings through the room, making you smile. He had such a pretty voice.
“He was drunker than the both of us combined.” You tear the end of a soy sauce packet and dump it into the container in your lap. “Speaking of, what do you remember from last night? Did you, like, totally black out?”
“Not much, just that you were coming over today.” He says through another mouthful of food.
Great, so he didn’t remember anything. How convenient for you.
“Well… you ended up peeing on this guy when we were leaving because you missed the bush.”
“I missed the bush?”
“The whole bush.”
“Oh my god.”
“I know.”
The food was long gone, with empty containers flooding his trashcan that begged to be taken out.
You were bored.
Here you were, laying on his bed with a lowcut shirt and a fucking miniskirt, and he was back to playing his game.
For the past hour you tried to get him to join you, but to no avail. Who knew that your first target would be the hardest to fuck? How can you accurately judge how good he fucked if he wouldn’t even lay on the bed with you?
One last chance or you were leaving.
This was an all or nothing moment.
“I’m horny.” It was a declaration. A statement so bold, he turns ever-so-slightly towards you and raises an eyebrow.
“Excuse me?”
You scoff, “You heard me. I need to fuck someone or something.”
The squeak of his chair rings through the uncomfortably silent room as he adjusts himself. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Flustered? Did he feel the same?
“Well now that you mention it…” he swallows thickly. Was it hot in his room? Could you feel it too?
You push yourself up into a sitting position, “Come help me.” His dark brown eyes flutter, the tops of his cheeks dusting a light pink color, but he stays silent. "No smart reply? No sexual comments? Did I really fluster the Lee Haechan?"
He gets up from his gaming chair, almost toppling over in the process and spilling the can of Redbull he was clutching onto for dear life. "I am not flustered. " The mattress dips under his weight as he gets comfortable next to you, his gaze falling to the lowcut shirt you wore, "Can’t I touch them if you’re serious?”
His bottom lip juts out in a pout, obviously joking around (your boobs always seemed to be the butt of his sexual comments), but even still, you find yourself removing your shirt before you can think.
The look on his face is priceless, wide eyes almost bugging out of his skull, “I was kidding! Jesus Christ Y/N, put your shirt back on!” his voice has somehow pitched up two octaves, obviously taken aback, but for some reason his eyes remain open and transfixed. It looks as if he’s almost salivating, especially when he watches your nipples perk up from how cool he kept his room.
Reaching out a hand, you clasp his wrist and bring it closer to your body, “But I’m serious.” The bewildered expression never left his face, even when you had him cup his palm around your breast, and then when he took matters into his own hands and gave you a fair squeeze, which made you giggle.
“Am I dreaming? This must be a dream?”
You hop up on your knees, making your tits bounce in the process which drops Haechan’s jaw, “Not a dream, very much reality.”
Slowly and sexily, you crawl towards his seated position beside you, “I want you Haechan.” You breathe the words out slowly, giving him time to comprehend what the fuck his best friend just said.
Confusion flits across his face and he hesitates, “But Y/N…”
“But what? I want you. I want you to fuck me.” His pupils blew wide at the confession.
“Y/N… I can’t.”
Disappointment fills your heart and deflates your ego in a millisecond. You should have known. How could you be so stupid? Of course, he didn’t want to fuck you. You were best friends for fucks sake. It would ruin everything. Why did you even try? Because you were drunk and horny the night the challenge was first brought up? Pathetic, really.
Haechan must have seen the worry and doubt fill your eyes because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing your shoulders, “No, It’s… It’s not because I don’t want to,” His eyes wash over your half naked body, and he licks his lips, “Trust me, I want to…but I’m…I’m.”
Leaning in ever so slightly you whisper, “You’re what? Scared?”
It was a taunt, a tease, a challenge, and he knew it, but he just shakes his head, “Y/N… I’m a virgin.”
Now it was your turn to be shocked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, “You’re a… virgin?”
Pink tints his cheeks and collarbones peeking through his oversized t-shirt, and he hangs his head to avoid eye contact, “Yeah, I’ve never had… never had sex.”
“But you always say –”
“I talk a big game, okay?” The reply rushes from his lips, embarrassment kicking him in the ass, “Yeah I’ve gotten head before, and I’ve eaten a few girls out, but I’ve never had actual sex. It’s… just never happened I guess.”
Here you were, trying to seduce not only your best friend, but your best friend that has just told you he was a virgin. You were trying to steal a virgins innocence. How fucked could you really be?
To be fair, he always acted like he got hella pussy, you argue with yourself.
“Jaemin knows.” He mutters, as if it was of any relevance to the situation.
“Well,” You start, sitting back on your heels, “Here I am shirtless, asking you to fuck me…” His eyes flicker up and lock with yours, “What are you gonna do about it?”
Another challenge.
He did well with challenges, and this time was no different.
You continue, “Unless you believe the ‘only have sex after marriage’ bullshit –”
“Absolutely not.”
Greedy eyes search for an answer on his face, but there’s nothing, only a permanent blush and frantic furrow brows, “Okay, then do you wanna go back to gaming?”
“…No.”
He still isn’t advancing, just sitting with his hands dropped into his lap and looking at you with his wide doe eyes, “Then what?”
You sit there, watching as Haechan fidgets with his hands, clearly nervous about what comes next. The sexual tension that hangs between you two feels like a thick fog. You want him, and you can tell that he wants you too, but the knowledge that he’s a virgin puts a damper on things.
You don't want to be the one to take his virginity. That's a big fucking responsibility, and it's not something that you take lightly. You start to wonder if maybe you should just call it a night and go home. But then Haechan speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."
His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time since you arrived. He looks vulnerable, and you can see the fear in his eyes. But you can also see the determination. He knows what he wants, and he's not going to let anything stand in his way.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You know what you want too, but you also know that this is a big deal. You can't just jump into things without thinking them through. "I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Haechan," you say finally. "Taking someone's virginity is a big deal. It's not something to be taken lightly."
Haechan nods, his eyes still locked with yours. "I know. But I trust you, Y/N." His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.
"Okay," you say finally. "Okay, we can do this.”
Somehow, the tables had turned on you; and this was getting a lot sappier than you had anticipated.
The awkwardness settles back into the room, Haechan staring at you with his doe eyes, the nervousness flitting about his delicate features.
It’s a beat – a short pause before he speaks so low you almost miss it, “You know I want to fuck you.”
“Then what’s stopping you?”
Maybe he’d give you a logical answer and you’d understand; put your shirt back on and let him get back to his video games while you silently scrolled Instagram.
But when was he ever logical?
And when were you ever one to back down?
Faster than you can register, he’s pushing your shoulders backwards until you fall breathlessly against his pillow. He climbs over top of you, his usual goofy smirk replaced with an intensity you both had felt the night before at the frat house. “Nothing’s stopping me.” His breath tickles your cheeks, “But I can’t tell if you’re fucking serious or taking a joke way too far.” A scoff rumbles in his chest, “I’ve damn near bared my soul to you tonight.”
“Not a joke-” you try to argue, but he talks over you.
“Ya know, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean you can treat me like a plaything.” his head lolls to the side, “Well I mean if you wanted to, you could – but that’s not the point..” He sighs, pressing his face closer to yours, so that you were almost nose to nose. One more inch and you’d be kissing him, “I’m trying to say that if this is a joke… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna fuck you.”
“I – Are you sure about this? You won’t regret anything in the morning?”
He scoffs, “Have you not been listening to me when I speak to you? I’ve been wanting this for ages,” Eyes, half-lidded with desire, wash over your exposed chest, “I’m not gonna regret a damn thing.”
The butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably when Haechan dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss. All you can taste is the fizziness of the redbull he’d been drinking earlier, and something undeniably him. It was urgent and wet, lips sliding over yours to deepen the kiss, dribbles of spit smearing on your cheeks. He was messy.
“No regrets.” You solidify, breath hitching in your throat when his hands cup your breasts – his thumbs flicking over your nipples.
He groans, hips desperately pushing against you, “Let me eat you out.” he asks, though it wasn’t really a question because he starts to lower himself down your figure; pressing wet kisses to your chest. First it’s your collarbone, then the swell of your breasts, all the way down until he hovered right above your skirt.
Your head is reeling with how forward he was, “You’re kinda bold for a vir-”
He slaps a rough hand over your jaw, “If you even so much as utter that word, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Tauntingly, he quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you, “And anyways,” he continues, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair, “Just because I’ve never stuck my dick between a woman’s thighs doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please one.”
It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, in shock or contemplation of his words, you weren’t sure.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that baby,” Lust drips from his words like venom, the pet name rolling off his tongue a little too certainly, “Sitting up here playing video games has made me exceptionally good with my hands,” he smirks, “and I guess I’m naturally good with my tongue… I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me, yeah?”
Furiously, you nod your head, eyes wide and marveling at this side of Haechan. The one slightly out of breath and bursting with the need to taste you. He was hot. More so than you were expecting. You should pay closer attention sometimes.
He doesn’t waste time undoing your skirt. Instead, he pushes it up until it bunched at your waist, and pretty pink panties were the only thing blocking him from doing what he wanted. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls them down agonizingly slow. “So pretty.” he whispers.
Without hesitation, he flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, a low rumble building in his chest. You tasted exactly like he had imagined.
The contact makes you gasp, and you fumble around for something to hold onto – choosing his hair as the only viable option. One tug and he’s whining against your clit, hips pressing into the bed unbeknownst to you.
“Y-you like hair pulling?” You question, doing it again to test the waters. He doesn’t answer, just groans against your pussy, tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Strong arms hook underneath your hips and pull hard, until you’re sat right up against his face.
“Hyuck.” you whimper, legs shaking. He was relentless, nosing your clit and fucking you with his tongue – all but lapping at the embarrassing amount of arousal wetting the inside of your thighs. “Hyuck!”
He perks up, lips puffy and jaw shining in the dim light of his bedroom, “What?”
You feel almost shy at his stare, a blush settling over your cheeks and burning hot at the back of your neck, “D-don’t wanna cum just yet.” You stutter out.
Surprisingly, he rolls his eyes, “Let me stretch you out a little bit, okay baby?” There’s no time for you to respond because two of his fingers press against your entrance and slide in with ease. Simultaneously he dives back in, teeth slightly grazing your clit.
“Fuck!” Your back arches up off the bed, hips rolling against his face. His fingers pump into you, the stretch leaving your thighs shaking.
“See baby, all done,” He slips his fingers out and gives you one final suckle, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you.”
Words are unattainable right now, head still reeling from how fucking good he was with his tongue. That’s where he’d gotten the most practice, but you weren’t expecting that. It was what – less than two minutes? Yet you were already fucked out, body buzzing with excitement. If that was just the beginning, what was to come?
While lost in your thoughts, Haechan rid himself of his shirt and shimmied his shorts down.
The video didn’t do him justice.
Yeah, he looked decently big on his phone screen, but after weeks of contemplation, you could only assume it was the angle.
Oh, how wrong you were.
His cock stood thick and heavy, proudly slapping his lower stomach when he moves to throw his clothes on the floor. It was red and leaking pre-cum, and your mouth waters. Oh, how you wanted to hop up and stuff him down your throat. You wanted to milk him until he was shaking and sobbing for you to stop.
But another part wanted him in you, now.
Deep lines of muscle were etched into his torso – contracting when he leant down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on his lips, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Haechan was whimpering; all but shaking against you. The vibrations shot straight into your veins like a drug and when he pulls back and sits on his knees, you almost moan.
You are no better than a man.
Watching the way he touches his body, so soft and careful; tugging at his cock impatiently while his eyes are transfixed on the way your pussy clenches around nothing – it sends a desperate signal down between your thighs.
“Enough!” You whine, “Want you in me.”
His trademark smirk appears on his face, “Okay baby… but..,” he chews on his bottom lip in hesitation, “… I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last..”
“I don’t care!” You wail, annoyed, “Fuck me.”
“So demanding,” He huffs, hands fumbling to push your thighs apart. Looking to you for reassurance that everything was alright, he appeared somewhat uncertain and hesitant.
“It’s okay, ” you breathe, gasping when he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. “Hold my hand!” It was a statement to make him feel surer of himself, but deep down, you knew it was because you were just as nervous.
Shakily, his hand slides into yours and pushes it against the pillow next to your head. He takes a deep breath. This is silly, he chides himself, just stick it in! You’ve been dreaming about this forever! Be a fucking man.
Slowly, he pushes himself fully into you while still maintaining eye contact.
“Fuck!” you both curse at the same time. His eyes flicker in the back of his head, lips trembling when he bottoms out, now sheathed inside your warm cunt. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there – and you know it too. He stays like that for a minute longer – not moving, just processing.
“Hyuck…” You whimper, resting your legs on his back. He mumbles a mhm, too focused on steadying his breathing, getting his bearings, finding the will to actually fuck you. “Hyuck, you have to move.”
“M-maybe we should use a c-condom.” He stutters, eyelashes fluttering and tangling together. The interlocked grip on your hands falters when you rut your hips up against him. “F-fuck, we need to use a condom.” His breathing is labored as he tries to gather everything he’s feeling and seeing at once. The way your pussy sucks him in, squeezing around his length just fucking right, the feeling of your nipples brushing his chest every time he bottoms out, and the wet kisses being pressed to the juncture between his neck and collarbone. It was making his head dizzy, and he can feel himself already about to – “I’m gonna cum if you keep, fuck – y/n, stop kissing my n-neck.”
Lost in the satisfying pleasure of him stretching you out, you hadn’t even realized you were kissing him – everywhere. Licking at the place just below his earlobe, suckling bruises into the honey gold skin of his throat, and nipping at his jaw. And every time your lips or tongue grazed him, he shallowly thrusted into you – too caught up in the sensations to get a steady rhythm.
You purse your lips in a pout, pulling your head back to rest on the pillow, and stare up at him, “Why stop if you like it.”
“Good p-point.” He stutters out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Maybe that would hide the pink tinging his cheeks – the embarrassment. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be enveloped by you completely. “Fuck,” He groans, his cock dragging against your walls with a concentrated pace – like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. And if that was the case, he was succeeding.
You mewl and moan every time he slips out of you, just to fuck into you deeper than before. Time doesn’t pass, you don’t register anything but the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach – one that catches you off guard. As you arch your body into his touch, your mind begins to cloud.
Words of praise spill from your lips uncontrollably, "You're doing so well," you murmur, and he whimpers. “So good Hyuckie,” You moan, feeling his head still buried in your neck. “Keep going, baby.” The encouragement rips a broken sob from his throat, but he keeps driving his cock between your legs. He couldn’t stop – how could he? You were like his own personal brand of heroin.
His voice comes out muffled when speaks, “Want you to- fuck.. need you to...” His fingers are trembling, jaw slacked as he forgets his train of thought, “Slow down, wait – I need you to, y/n.. oh fuck this.” a rush of air tickles your body as Haechan tightens his hold and flips you over; worming his way underneath your body so that your legs were now slotted over his waist, cock still pushing into you. “There we go,” he mutters.
The action sends your head spinning, and a squeal rips from your throat. “Woah!”
“Woah!” he mocks, bullying his cock into you at such a fast pace, you were battling to keep your balance. His hands held onto your hips so tightly, there were bound to be a few fingerprint shaped bruises tomorrow morning. But that didn’t matter – not when he was burying his length into you again and again and again, abusing your g-spot to the point you’re babbling nonsense.
Your thighs are quivering on either side of him, struggling to keep yourself bouncing on his cock. Equally shaky hands pepper his chest in an attempt to hold onto something as the fire in your stomach burns hotter. Every whimper, every sob, every moan that falls past his lips is like another burning ember – shooting and twisting through your veins.
“G-gonna cum, Hyuck, gonna – “ you mewl, clawing at his collarbones and shoulders.
A harsh slap lands on your ass as he continues to piston his hips up underneath you. Just hearing you say the words edges him even closer to his own orgasm, “Please baby, cum – shit, cum on my cock, you can do it.” He groans through gritted teeth. Another smack lands, “God, I know you can do it.”
Your eyes roll back as you completely fall apart – he never stopped fucking into you. Not even when you all but collapsed on top of him, heartbeat erratic and gasping for breath. Not even when you begged him to slow down, begged him to give you a chance to recover, maybe get into a different position.
“Just give me one second baby, fuck, I still need to cum,” Like a lightbulb went off, he perks, “Wait- where do you want me t-to cum,” He’s rocking his body into yours now, sweat rolling down his temple with the exertion of holding back. “An-Answer! I can’t hold it anymore you feel too fucking good.”
Swirled in your own euphoria, you barely register his words, yet you manage to whimper against his neck, “Cum in me Hyuckie, please, I’m on the pill.”
The permission is all he needs, but the nickname is what sends him straight into a head high that has him burying his cock deep in you and releasing. Strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you against his shaking body while spurts of cum flood your pussy. He sounds exactly like he did in the video he showed you a few weeks ago – like he was sobbing with relief. Whining and whimpering, lolling his head side to side as he fucks the last of his cum deep into you.
He tries not to move, he tries really fucking hard, but every time you twitched, it squeezed around him again and again – curses flying from his body as he tried to squirm away. He slips out of you quickly, cum smearing on his belly and all over your thighs, “That was…”
You can hear his heartbeat – almost as erratic as yours is, and he’s puffing air, trying to catch an even breath. Both of you are sticky and tired – worn the fuck out. If you tried to push yourself off of him, you think you might topple over, so you don’t. You stay locked in his embrace, listening to the way his breathing slows and chest thumps.
“That was what?”
He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything I’ve dreamt of.”
Giggling, you snuggle closer to him. Who knew he’d be the type to sweet talk after sex. With how much he boasted and teased, you thought he’d be more… you don’t know… arrogant? You liked this side of him though.
Ah, shut up! you think to yourself, you’re not falling in love with him, so stop.
Haechan was a friend no matter if he did just fuck your brains out.
“Gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble. Anything to get away from him and the swirls of ooey-gooey feelings.
Clambering off of him proved to be easier than you thought earlier, and the wobble to the bathroom was only slightly embarrassing. You thank God for privacy when you shut the door behind you.
As you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize how much of a mess you are. Your hair is disheveled, mascara smudged and streaking, and your lipstick is smeared. Dark colored hickies scattered across your chest and collarbones. Despite this, you feel satisfied and content (Regardless of any stupid feelings that might be lingering).
Yet if Hyuck were to sneak in the bathroom behind you and beg for another round, you’d give it to him, no matter if the original challenge was a one and done kind of deal.
Your eyes widen into saucers… the challenge.
It was actually done – or at least partially.
You smirk.
Challenge 1/3 complete.
Maybe you should have stayed the night, but you were gone before the sun peeked over the tree line.
Haechan was still faintly snoring when you had slipped out from underneath the covers, and he only slightly stirred when you accidentally banged your toe on his gaming chair. His parted lips, and tinged cheeks made him look like an innocent angel.
One that you corrupted.
As you hurriedly walk back to your dorm building, you can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt fluttering about your stomach.
“Was this really a one-time thing?” he had asked right before his eyes had fluttered closed.
You had sighed, fidgeting with a thread on his comforter, “I don’t know Hyuck… maybe… I – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
Perhaps his shoulders had deflated with disappointment at your response, but you’d like to think he was just tired.
“Okay, let’s pretend it never happened then. Everything can go back to normal and… and if you want, I’ll be here to satisfy you again.” He had grinned then, although rather grim.
“Deal.”
You shoulder your dorm door and drop your bag on the kitchen table before grabbing a water out of the fridge. Thirstily gulping, you realize that even though it was his first time, he knew how to wear you out.
Points for that, you think.
You quietly slip into your room and take a seat at your desk after tossing the crushed plastic bottle into the trashcan. This is the moment you've been waiting for - a chance to rate the very first boy in the challenge. You grab a stray notebook from a stack nearby, open it to a fresh page, and begin.
Points for doing good his first time…Points for multiple positions…Points for eating you out first…Points for being whiny…Points for being eager…
There wasn’t really a system for your rating, but you take a satisfied look at the number and nod your head.
Congratulation Hyuck, you’ve received a 7.4/10, you think.
Despite it being his first time, he did exceptionally well. Who else could have lasted as long as he did, said the things he did, or fucked the way he did. Slowly, you find yourself slipping back into the memories, a play-by-play from start to finish – until a ping from your pocket drags you out.
Your heart leaps up in your throat.
What if it was him? What if he was asking why you left?
When you pull your phone out from your back pocket, you sigh in relief. It was just Jaemin.
You toss your phone onto your desk and slump against the chair. Jaemin didn’t press the question of why you were up… and hopefully he didn’t say anything during breakfast.
Pushing yourself upright, you dance through the laundry strewn across your floor and into the bathroom.
Despite what you said, you also had to wash the sex smell away. God, you were becoming just like Jaemin. Up at the ass crack of dawn to shower off cum and sweat and spit. Unexpectedly, you grip the shower curtain as a thought bounces around the inside of your skull.
Na Jaemin was just getting his dick wet… with Yeji, of all people. One of his recurring fwb situations.. But.. he was fucking her.
The video he had showed you the first night flashes through your brain. His cock thick and proud, pushing into the girl so fluidly, so rhythmically, so intensely. Until she squirted and he laughed. He had fucking laughed. You remember what he had said, “God you’re so fucking hot. NaNa did that, didn’t he? Mhm…come here pretty girl.”
And even though Haechan had pounded you into the next week, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.
Don’t worry Jaemin, your turn is next.
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A. NOTE | big thank you to lou, @peachjaem00, for helping me get over my writers block for this fic.. and for just being fucking awesome! i love you <3
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#nct smut#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#haechan smut#nct haechan smut#haechan x reader#nct dream smut#nct 00 line series#nct 00 line smut#nct 00 line x reader#nct dream haechan smut
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pretty little wife | morning glory
joel x f!reader one shot collection
part two of pretty little wife — can be read independently
series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3
summary: 4.3k words — saturday mornings in the miller household are for a few things only, and most of them include joel making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n
warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names for reader, cute husband joel, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you!
a/n: i'm literally so blown away by the attention the first part of this got like WOW i'm so glad you all loved reading it as much as i did writing it! here's another snippet in their domestic bliss, and stay tuned for some ~interesting~ developments in the next part
i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡
As much as you love Friday nights, the day Joel comes home pent up from a week of work and fucks it all out onto you, you love Saturday mornings even more.
Saturdays are for you Joel always says, and he starts this particular Saturday by waking you with kisses on the forehead and a fresh, steaming cup of coffee on your nightstand, one you can smell before you can even see it. He insists that after a long week of making meals, keeping the house spotless, your book club, nurturing your friendships, and keeping up with his insatiable need for you, you deserve one morning that’s completely for you, where Joel is happy to service you in multitudes.
You grumble and squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you feel his lips press onto your cheek again, and Joel laughs at your insolence.
“Know y’don’t like to sleep past eight, honey,” Joel comments as you continue to resist his attempts to wake you up.
“I knoooow,” you whine. “Mostly your fault I was up so late,” you add on, grumbling and recalling the way Joel had kept you up, insisting he keep filling you over and over. From the moment he got home until late in the night, somehow he’d managed to come three times, torturously edging you then making you come between them. Some days you truly wonder where the hell he gets the stamina from, how a man of his age can act like he’s twenty years old some nights. Anytime you ask, he just says that you make him absolutely fucking crazy, nothing more to it. It’s a miracle the two of you found each other, someone that can keep up with him just as well as he can with you.
“You’d like it better if I didn’t fuck you when I want then, hm? Get you all fucked out like last night?” he asks, his voice with a grating edge that’s between a threat and teasing. You make it a point to peek your eyes open at him finally, letting him see the fear in them at that prospect.
“N-no,” you shake your head wildly, eyes going wider as you fully wake up. “Of course not.”
“Thought so,” he says before leaning forward to kiss you, a sly smile dancing on his lips as you look over at him, perched on the bed next to you. He’s laying on his side, propped up on one elbow as he takes you in, his eyes full of mischief as they tend to be in the mornings.
“You know I have to give you a hard time when you act like you did last night,” you tell him, and Joel considers your words with a grin.
“I know ya do. Wasn’t too much last night, right?“ he asks. You always appreciate that Joel checks in like this, especially when he knows he’s gone further than the average day. And last night… he’d shown you just how long his week had felt, and how much he needed to make up for the lost time he’d had working late a few nights.
You shake your head sternly in reply. “Not at all,” you say sweetly, and Joel’s face relaxes before he leans in for another kiss that you gladly return.
“That’s my good girl. Your coffee’s over there,” he says, head gesturing towards the mug, despite every Saturday being the same with your coffee always on the nightstand when you wake up.
“Thank you, baby.” A flash of a grateful smile from you is all your husband needs, and you can see him melt a little bit at it.
You sit yourself up against the headboard, the sheet falling you reveal the top of your silky camisole trimmed in lace, a beautiful mauve color. Joel’s eyes catch on the skimpy fabric, one strap slipping down your shoulder, and he smiles, his eyes shading darker, watching as you reach for your coffee and start to sip on it. It’s perfect, a splash of your favorite creamer just to give it a little sweetness, and you send a grateful thought into the universe that Joel knows you so perfectly well.
“I see that look you’re giving me,” you say, giving him a close lipped smile over the top of your mug, eyes flashing at him with intrigue.
“How’s it different from any other Saturday? Y’know it’s all about you today,” he says matter-of-factly.
You chuckle and shake your head playfully. “Can’t a girl enjoy her coffee for a few minutes?” you tease him, and Joel makes a quiet, nearly growling sound in his throat before sitting up and moving to straddle your legs.
“Y’can certainly try, but you ain’t gonna be able to hang onto that mug for long, or do much of anything but come for me,” Joel says, and you find yourself losing your breath slightly at his words despite hearing much more filthy things coming from his mouth in the time you’ve been together.
“How many times this morning, then?” you ask tauntingly, taking another long sip from your mug before setting it back safely on the nightstand.
Joel’s eyebrows raise a bit before he slides himself further down on your legs, taking the sheet with him. You shiver a little at your skin being exposed to the air, the only thing covering you being your thin camisole and shorts set. Joel takes you in with hungry eyes, the way your body responds to being exposed with a smattering of goosebumps.
“As many times as I want, doll, y’know that,” he says. His fingers find their way to the silky hem of your shorts, passing the material through his fingers and inspecting it for a few seconds.
“Don’t know why y’even bothered to put this on after I was finished with you last night,” Joel muses, eyes traveling up the fabric until he reaches your chest, where your hardened nipples are starting to poke through the silk. “Just gonna take it right off this mornin’. Maybe rip it…” His head tilts cockily as his other hand slides up your smooth thigh slowly, tortuously. You arch your back slightly, lips parted with an oncoming whimper, showing him how much you want it.
“Am I not supposed to wear all the pretty things you buy me?” you retort back, low and still husky with sleep. “And rip this one? It’s my new favorite,” you say with a frown, trying to sound whiny and desperate enough to convince him to spare this pajama set.
Joel has quite an affinity for coming home with new lingerie and sexy sleepwear for you, strolling into the house after work with a boutique store bag, the contents inside shrouded with pretty paper. He’s given you countless slips, bras, thongs, garters, or any style of lingerie he finds that he wants to see you in. You tear them open with equal delight each time, something to replace the things that are ruined in one of Joel’s many other affinities - tearing your lingerie off of you. Whenever you gripe about it he promises to replace it with something even better. So far, he hasn’t failed, always spoiling you with something gorgeous each and every time.
Joel’s head leans forward, burying into your chest, settling between your breasts and inhaling deeply. “I know… you love this one…” he says, breath hot on the dip of skin between your tits, sending your already hardened nipples straining further through the fabric.
“Maybe I can get the same one, should still be for sale.” He begins kissing the soft skin there, goosebumps spreading across your body as his warm lips clash with the curve of your breast. You can feel his hands start to grip the bottom edge of the fabric, pulling it tight, desperate to rip it off of you.
“Better be. And a new set of panties to match it,” you bargain with him, and Joel glances up with a wide smirk, loving when you show him your more feisty side. His head dips back down, tongue finding your silken covered nipple and flicking it a few times before sucking it into his mouth. You arch into him, moans of his name spilling from your lips. He sucks until you can feel the surrounding fabric getting soaked, and you’re writhing wildly under his large frame, begging him.
“Please, baby… I need it,” you whine out, and Joel pulls his head off of your chest, a string of his saliva still connecting him to your shirt for a few moments. His eyes are lustful now, darkened a few shades by your body’s response to him.
“Need what, little doll?” he asks bitingly, almost condescendingly.
“Touch me, Joel.” Please, please, please. You beg in your head, nearly having to stop yourself from reaching between your legs and touching your clit yourself.
“Be a patient girl for me now,” he counters, and you feel your cunt clench around nothing at his commanding words, desperate for him to ravage you in any way he sees fit.
Joel places his hands on either side of your waist, his lips moving to start work on your other nipple, sucking and biting on it through the fabric. When both are thoroughly abused, swollen and aching from his mouth, you’re sure that you’ve soaked right through your panties to your shorts. You can feel your cunt pulsing, aching, the feeling spreading deep within you as you breathlessly pant, your hips twitching in desperation.
“Fine, fine,” Joel says, breathing out an amused laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got on under here.”
His hands hook around your pajama shorts and yank them down, exposing the cotton thong you’d put on. Maybe Joel had been right, you should have just stayed naked last night - you’d likely be halfway to an orgasm by now if he hadn’t gotten distracted with all your clothing.
“Almost like you didn’t want me to make you come this morning, all this damn clothing in the way,” he tuts, snapping the waistband of your thong hard into your hip. You wince at the sensation but it only serves to make you even more wet for him.
“P-please -“ you beg, barely able to get any other word out but that same one over and over.
“Baby… jus’ fuckin’ soaked….” Joel muses with an amazed sound to his voice. “Even after last night, just a little suckin’ on your pretty tits get you like this? Fuckin’ drippin’ through your panties, little doll.”
You writhe as his fingers toy with your nipple while he talks, the other hand swiping across the front of your underwear to take in just how badly you’re wanting him.
“Yes - y-yes it does,” you answer dutifully, and Joel smiles ear to ear.
“Wet f’me all the time, ain’t you? Ready whenever I need this tight little pussy,” Joel grits out, giving your sopping cunt a swift slap and repositioning himself between your legs, letting his head dip down. You nod wildly in response, murmuring more begs of “please” as he nears torturously close to your warm heat.
“Need a taste of this, bet you’re so fuckin’ sweet right now,” Joel says, his mouth now inches from your cunt. You nearly cry at the anticipation, hips pushing towards him, your throbbing clit begging your body for any kind of relief.
Joel’s surprises you by dipping his mouth to you, but he licks a strip up the outside of your underwear, dulling the sensation for you. You still moan loudly, so desperate to feel any part of him touching you in between your legs. He continues to lick along the fabric, pushing his tongue down hard to reach your slit through your panties before he starts sucking on your clit.
“Wh- my underwear, Joel… please….” you moan out, mostly incoherent now, feeling a dull pleasure starting to build deep inside of you.
“And let all this go to waste?” Joel replies, sucking the fabric into his mouth just to taste what you’d already spilled out for him. “Don’t think so, darlin’.”
You flutter your eyes when his tongue pokes into your entrance, the fabric adding an extra layer of texture to all the sensations that’s driving you absolutely wild. It’s pulling you closer and closer to the precipice, to the edge where you now sit teetering as Joel’s tongue makes contact with your clit again, rubbing your panties against it as he flicks there.
He groans out loudly at the taste of you in his mouth, the way your panties keep getting more soaked between his own saliva and all the arousal you’re gathering there from the way his tongue is moving on you.
“I’m- oh, Joel, fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, hips starting to stutter into him. You arch your back slightly, chasing your high with just a few small jerks of your hip. “I’m so close…” you say breathlessly, frustration boiling in your blood that you’re not quite there yet. You start squirming needily and Joel moves quickly, throwing your legs over his shoulders and pushing back on your thighs so that your legs are pressed close to your body. You can feel even more how much you’re soaked, absolutely dripping as it slides down onto your ass, the sheets below you.
“Come for me, baby, y’can do it, so fuckin’ pretty and wet for me. Be my good little wife and come for me,” Joel praises quickly into your cunt before sucking hard, pulling your clit into his mouth and pressing a finger against your entrance, pushing your panties into it and pumping shallowly in and out a few times.
You snap at his praising words, desperate to do good for him, to follow anything he wants from you and you finally feel the tension in your belly coil so tightly that it breaks, sending you careening into your high.
“F-fuck, oh, Joel, baby,” you whine out with long, low moans, shaking as your body goes taut and vision goes white. You shudder and writhe into his mouth as he keeps a steady pressure on your clit and moves his fingers rapidly on your hole.
“Good girl, fuck, such a good girl, let’s do another,” Joel says as soon as he feels you coming down, and moves quickly, his tongue darting around the edge of your panties and sliding underneath, one finger pulling the fabric aside.
You nearly scream his name, the overstimulation coupled with his now direct contact with your most sensitive parts has you absolutely reeling. You pant heavily, trying to scoot your body away, but Joel’s hold on your legs is tight, his own tension starting to build underneath his sweatpants.
His tongue buries in you, lewdly lapping and slurping at every last drop of your come that he can as he groans in pure pleasure at the taste. He’s getting more aggressive, his need for you climbing as you rush towards another high.
“Fuck, gimme this tight little pussy,” Joel murmurs, his heaving breaths against your skin. He quickly starts to tear your panties, and through your haze you hear the ripping of fabric and seams, laying with your legs still pressed up against your body, held up for Joel to see between your legs clear as day. You feel like complete jelly, nothing reaching your mind but Joel Joel Joel and the pleasure he’s giving you.
He dives back in after you feel the torn panties laying open and limp against your thighs, his teeth nipping at your clit here and there, sending your hips twitching and little yelps flying out for your mouth.
“Need something’ in here, don’t you? Can feel you desperate, squeezin’, want my big fingers in there,” he says, more of a statement than a question, but you find yourself nodding dumbly, figuring that Joel seems to have known best up until this point, so no use in questioning it now.
He takes the liberty of pushing three fingers inside of you, giving you no chance to adjust, pumping them in and out a few times and then immediately hooking them to find the spongy part of your walls. Your breath catches, and you find it hard to get air into your lungs now between his mouth and fingers ruining you in tandem, making you fall to pieces.
You can’t speak, can’t think, can only chase what he’s giving you and let out pathetic moans and mewls and he fucks you with his fingers and presses on your g-spot. You feel tears brimming in your eyes, sliding down your cheeks but you don’t care, not when every bit of you is on fire in the best way, screaming out in pleasure.
“Hold your legs up f’me, need to fuck my fist to this, all these pretty little noises my wife makes,” Joel commands, and you do your best to keep your legs where he’s pushed them to, finding the muscles starting to tremble with the exertion and your quickly approaching climax.
“C’can’t hold on,” you whimper as you feel Joel shimmying on the bed to sit up and pull his cock out with one free hand, the other continuing to pump in and out of you. You peek down through half lidded eyes to see his cock, so hard and raging with need that it sends a pulse of desire straight through you to your aching hole. You need him inside of you, but most Saturday mornings he’s insistent on just eating you out like this until you’re a limp, sweating, crying mess, not wanting to detract from your pleasure by using your pussy for his own.
“Let go, baby, come again f’me,” Joel coos before his tongue circles your clit again and you melt into the pleasure, letting it wrack your body once again. You hear the slap of his flesh against his cock as he pumps it, fucking his fist earnestly as he hears your cries for him while you come around his fingers, squeezing him to keep pressing on the spot that’s absolutely devastating you.
“So fuckin’ addicted to this, gimme another, little doll, help me finish,” Joel says, sounding nearly manic as he pumps on his cock. “S-so good f’me, Christ,” he murmurs as he whimpers a little at the sight of you coming down from your climax and the feel of his own hand wrapped around his cock.
“Wanna feel you, wanna come on your cock, please… p-please…” you whine, completely dazed now.
“Y’know…” Joel struggles to get the words out, “It’s your turn, n-not about me,” he says with a grunt, tugging hard on his cock.
“It’ll make me come, I p-promise, just fill me up,” you tell him, holding your shaking, spent legs open wider, inviting him in. You writhe at the thought of Joel being inside of you, knowing your fully displayed cunt is fluttering and squeezing at nothing right now, and Joel can see every bit of it.
“Please…” you utter quietly, and that last insistence is what sets Joel over the edge. He’s on top of you in a second, wrists grabbed into his hands and pinned next to your head as he uses his body to keep your legs held up and steady before slamming into you. You yell out in complete bliss as he fills you to the hilt without stopping in one thrust, his cock stretching you mercilessly.
“That what you needed, pretty wife? This big cock inside ya? Get it every fuckin’ day, can’t get enough though, ain’t that right?” he says, unable to stop himself from immediately thrusting into you over and over, chasing after his orgasm. You’ve noticed that Joel can have incredible self control with most things until he’s buried balls deep in you, only then does it all go out the window. You love that power you hold over him, despite giving him every ounce of power to take it whenever he wants.
“Yes, yes, Joel, fuck me,” you cry, “harder.”
“Harder? Want me t’ruin this tight little pussy, it’s all mine, all mine,” he rambles on. “Fuck, c’mere and let me fuck you like I own it.”
He grunts as he pulls out of you with a wet pop, scrambling to flip you onto your belly and slamming back in as quickly as possible, cock hitting you so deep your eyes roll back as he presses your cervix.
You can only make wild, completely feral groaning sounds into the mattress as he fucks into you, devastating you as you see your vision spotting with white from the combination of pleasure and pain that he’s doling out. Your entire being feels supple right now, completely given over to Joel as he uses you to reach towards his own pleasure.
You whimper as your hips grind against the mattress, your sore and overstimulated clit getting even more friction than you can handle, and sure enough, you crash into another climax, your body shaking violently as Joel presses down on your back, fucking you even harder as you squeeze around his length and pull a rough, staggered grunt from him while he pumps one last time before spilling everything. Joel comes hard, pressing himself as flush as he can with your body, and you can hear his ragged breaths coming from behind you while he starts to come down.
You both stay exactly as you are, his half hard cock still twitching inside of your cum soaked cunt, both of you struggling to get a grip back on reality. You only now realize just how tear stained your face is, several stray tears still rolling down your cheek and onto the sheets below you.
Joel gingerly pulls out of you, but you stay prone, even as he crawls up next to you, just laying flat and letting his spill drip out of you, loving the feeling of being so used, so messy for him.
You flutter your eyes open to try to look at him, and you know it must be a sight to behold. Joel thumbs one of the tears on your cheek and then pinches it gently, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin there.
“So cockdrunk, look at ya,” he says with a disbelieving shake of his head.
“Mmmm,” you manage to get out, not even sure what you’d say if you could speak right now.
“I’m gonna run you a bath, pretty girl, then we’ll get you fed.” You can only nod in return, still trying to get yourself back to the present moment as you feel the bed move when Joel slips away. You doze as you hear the water running from the adjacent bathroom, and curl up slightly just before hearing Joel pad back into the room and gently shake your shoulder.
“Let’s go, gotta take care of yourself, doll,” he insists, and you mumble as you open your eyes and start to sit up. Joel peels your sticky, sweaty camisole off, tossing it on the bedroom floor and then leading you to the bathroom. The sight and smell in here is heavenly, and you wonder why you’d even thought about resisting getting out of bed for something this incredible. Fresh lavender scents the bath along with a clean, linen scent from the candle Joel lit on the bathroom counter. Inviting steam drifts off the top of the bath and you can hardly wait to dip your foot in and soak down into it.
“Thank you, baby,” you say sweetly, turning to Joel and tilting your head up to plant a kiss on Joel’s lips. He grasps at the back of your head, pulling your head in even closer for a few long, lingering kisses. He licks into your mouth and you moan quietly, your still freshly fucked cunt unsure if it should ask for more right now, or if it even can.
“You’d let me fuck y’again right here, wouldn’t ya? Cum runnin’ down your leg still and everything,” Joel asks you, and you nod bashfully, avoiding his eyeline, knowing it’s the embarrassing truth of just how desperate he makes you.
“Christ, how’d I get this lucky, huh?” Joel answers with a crooked smile. “Get in that bath, sweetheart, y’need to rest now.” He spins you towards the tub and gives you ass a light smack, urging you forward. You chuckle and decide not to resist, knowing he’s right - your body needs a break from the wonderful man that is your husband.
“Breakfast in thirty, mkay? I’ll make your favorite,” Joel tells you, a final kiss landing on your bare shoulder before you step over the rim of the tub and you turn to see him leave the room.
You hiss a little at the immediate heat of the water, but quickly find yourself sliding down into it, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the lavender reaches your nose and you lose yourself into the bliss your husband set up for you so lovingly.
After soaking until you’re feeling refreshed and bordering on pruny, you step out and see the outfit Joel set out for you in the bedroom, indicating that he’d had a particular preference for what he wants to see you in today. You smile as you hold up a rather non classically sexy outfit compared to your closet full of lingerie and pretty dresses - one of Joel’s old t-shirts and tiny lounge shorts that barely cover your ass. You throw Joel’s choice and relish in the scent of him surrounding you through his clothing, hugging the fabric tightly to yourself. You bound down the stairs eagerly to the smell of breakfast cooking - chocolate chip pancakes by the smell of it - and think dreamily about what another perfect Saturday morning it had been in the Miller household.
joel taglist: @bbyanarchist
#it's official i'm absolutely losing it over husband joel here#fic: pretty little wife#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#x reader
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Spotless: Rubato
Chapter Fifteen
Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela
Other characters: Lee/Pam, Sam/Madison, Benny, Charlie, Elizabeth
Word Count: 3340
Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mentions of Bela's childhood sexual abuse, lots of drunken shenanigans, Benny's not flirting, just being his own charming self, jealousy, Dean is slipping, unbeta'd
Series Masterlist
The week between Christmas and New Years is always a week of stasis, celebratory and lazy, just holding its breath for changes to come. In a word, it’s possibility. You still did some work, but not many requests were coming in and social media was bombarded with gratitude and self reflection. Not many people noticed the band’s lack of posts and you were grateful for not having to make excuses for some family time, for anyone.
Your flight home had been arduous, delays and a layover that just left you a zombie for a solid 36 hours afterwards. You woke up on the morning of New Year’s Eve with a sense of dread. You checked your phone just to be safe and all seemed well, or quiet at least. Annoyed with your brain, you decided to punish your body instead, or practice self-care, depending on who you asked. Your stationary bike had gotten a little dusty while you were out of town, but after a couple miles everything else fell out of focus. The rolling hills made you feel invincible.
It had started as physical therapy after your car accident back in college, but biking had turned into one of your go to hobbies. And as boring and non-creative it sounded, it did you a lot of good when your thoughts got too loud. It was like running away from your problems, but it still benefited you both physically and mentally.
Win win.
By three, you were just waiting to get ready. The outfit you picked out with Bela hung on the back of your closet door still wrapped in the Sister Jo’s bag. You slumped in your robe and scrolled through the news as you waited to switch the wash around.
Different broadcasts covered the various local NYE specials and reminded everyone to drive sober, take the bus or get a ride. You thought Dean said he had gotten rides covered the last you talked, but you weren’t sure who was getting you or when, really. If you needed to meet somewhere to go as a group, you needed to order your ride now or everyone would be waiting on you.
Biting your lip, you called him instead of texting, because your worry was immediate not eventual. He picked up on the third ring, slightly out of breath.
“Hey, Trouble, what’s up?”
“What’s the plan for tonight? Are we leaving from your place or are you picking me up? I don’t know where Elizabeth’s Nightowl Cafe actually is, Dean.”
Naturally, he laughed. “Hey, look, it’s not a great time. I’m in wardrobe right now. But I’ll make sure you get home safe. Maybe just head over to Bela’s and we’ll pick you both up on the way?”
“The photoshoot is today?! I could have sworn you already had it.”
“Yeah, well, Christmas took longer than I thought and they wedged me in.”
“Dean—”
“Look, I figured it out. And you didn’t have to hold my hand or anything. Now, look, I gotta drop trough, so if you need to continue this conversation with my dick out, by all means. They’re putting me in white pants, so bye-bye Batman boxers.”
You almost swallowed your tongue.
“Yeah, I’m good. You— you have fun with that.”
“See you tonight.”
“Right, bye.”
You slammed your eyes shut, but the damn visuals still flooded your mind. Gorgeous fucking bastard. You exhaled and called Bela, which was far less of a rollercoaster of a conversation and you agreed to be at her place after five to get ready together.
“You still haven’t said anything about your trip home,” you reminded Bela as she handed you another flute of champagne.
You were both dressed and ready, nibbling on an assortment of cheese and crackers on her oversized kitchen island. From what Dean said about Benny’s cousin’s cooking, dinner was on the agenda, but you had started pregaming and didn’t want to get sloppy too early.
“I’m trying to black it out, honestly. It was such pretentious bullshit. And don’t get me started on my mother’s latest project involving the southern gardens at the summer home,” Bela rolled her eyes and shoved another slice of cheese into her mouth.
“Topiaries?”
“Close, a walking maze. Because apparently Queen Victoria is alive and well,” Bela dusted her hands and raised them in surrender. “At least she didn’t try to force me to bring Dean, that would have ended poorly.”
“Dean is actually really good with moms— but I’m pretty sure he’d get arrested if he had to sit down and have a meal with your dad like he isn’t evil incarnate.”
Bela hummed, sipping her drinking.
You took another bit of cheese and made a sandwich, sensing she was holding something back. “You actually told him about it?”
Bela swallowed and chewed on her words. “Let’s just say Dean and I bonded over our less than stellar fathers, but yeah, I agree with you. In fact he said as much, something about knowing how to hide a body and having a big trunk to drag it away.”
You laughed darkly. “That would be Dean. Prepared, but with violence at the ready.”
“Anyway, setting up another fundraiser for Prevent Together for the new year. Please keep both of your calendars free because I need all my people there, alright?”
“Of course,” you promised, reaching across the butcher block countertop and squeezing her hand. Bela never ceased to amaze you with her strength. You switched gears to grant her some space, “is this the first time you’re meeting the rest of the band?”
“Well, I’ve met Sam. But I’m guessing he’s in on the plan. They’re a bit attached-at-the-hip types?”
You smirked. “Basically a package deal, but I think he’s more protective lately. His girlfriend Madison is fun and I hope they work out, he’s a good guy.”
“So who else do I need to charm?”
“Pamela.”
“Pamela?”
“The drummer, possibly psychic and honestly a little frightening at times. But she’s got a big heart to go with her bluntness. If you can’t convince her, we’re all in for it, because she’s gonna dig. So we’ll make sure you and Dean are on all night. I am definitely snagging some midnight shots, so pucker up, darling.” You teased, but honestly, kissing Dean couldn’t be anything but a treat, even just for a camera.
Maybe you were biased.
“Naturally. Alright, and how does Dean know the owner of the cafe?”
“She’s Benny’s cousin. A good friend and head of tour security, sometimes a personal bodyguard.”
Bela nodded, “I think he’s mentioned him as being on standby if one of our nights out got to be too much.”
You were grateful Bela had paid attention, if she was actually dating Dean, she would know all of this already. The less you had to explain on the spot, the less chance of a slip up.
“Big Cajun guy, total teddy bear. He’ll love you,” you added.
“Nice.”
A mechanical crank sounded somewhere behind you. “Is that—?”
“The garage, they must be here,” Bela gathered the tray and unceremoniously set it inside the fridge.
“How did they get into the garage? I didn’t see you get a text.”
“Dean has the code. Finish your drink,” Bela rushed you.
You slammed the rest of your champagne and added your glass in the sink with Bela’s. Something felt weird that Dean knew Bela’s security override code, but then again you didn’t drive, must be why you didn’t have it.
“Hey— whoa!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your sleuthing spiral. “Lookin’ good, ladies.”
You turned and took him in, burgundy suit without a tie, a dark undershirt with the collar popped. Fucker.
“Thank you, likewise.” Bela leaned in and pecked his cheek.
Dean turned to you. “All set?”
You looked around for your phone and grabbed it and the charger off of the ledge towards the sidedoor. “Yeap. You?” you asked Bela.
“Do I need a touch up?” she asked, tilting her head side to side for your honest inspection.
“Nope, lipstick did its job. You’re glorious,” you affirmed.
“Right, well, shall we?” Bela gestured toward the door which Dean pushed open for you and Bela to go first. Past Bela’s MG the big door was still open, showing a pair of black SUVs waiting on the curb. As you stepped out onto the short drive, Lee screamed out a backwindow from the first vehicle, “ladies, ladies, ladies, are we ready to have a good time?!”
You laughed, dancing a little up the incline and pumping your fist to an imaginary beat.
“Trouble’s ready! What about you? You gonna give this one a run for his money?” Lee teased and then took a swig off of his own bottle of champagne.
“You can count on it,” Bela said darkly, eyes only on Dean. Everyone cheered as Dean put his hand on the small of her back and kissed her temple.
From the second SUV Sam emerged smirking and opened the door, waving you all inside. It was time to get the show on the road.
You had met Elizabeth a handful of times and everytime you were floored by her natural hospitality. The cafe was closed for the event, where barely thirty of you were gathered in the vintage-diner- themed all night cafe. She had tables set up with appetizers and a bartender working the soda fountain so you could get dessert with your booze if you wanted.
You wondered if Dean had requested the pie, because there were three cut and displayed on a stand with plastic domes to keep them from drying out.
Oldies played from the antique jukebox and everyone mingled as others arrived. You snapped pictures of the guests and the hand painted mural on the wall showcasing blues artists and faces from classic Hollywood. Everything was gorgeous and it was a little overwhelming seeing everyone dressed to the nines, but you remembered how smashing you looked in your outfit and tucked your shoulders back and held your head high.
Eventually, Benny found you and pulled you in for one of his signature bear hugs.
“It’s been too long, doll. Stickin’ to your namesake or have you been behavin’ ?”
You chuckled, pulling back to look up at his handsome face. “Oh you know, I do what I can. You?”
Benny’s bright eyes searched for something and eased you back onto your heels. “Uh, yeah, good. Itchin’ to get back on the road. Working the movie lots is a real pain, glad it’s only temporary.”
The song changed and Benny hummed along, you caught a glimpse of Sam and Madison talking with Bela while Dean and Lee waited in line for drinks.
“I can’t wait for the tour either, I think we all could stand to get back to basics.”
“Boys causing a ruckus for ya?” Benny asked knowingly.
“Nah, just a feeling. They’ve been working too hard more than anything. So a little balance will probably do the trick.”
“Well, that’s what we’re here for. Time to play hard. Wanna dance?” You looked around and sure enough, Lee and Pamela had started swinging to Johnny B. Goode, while some of the other roadies were shuffling along with their partners in a less flamboyant way.
You flexed your knee and decided you were tipsy enough to risk it and your pride for such an earnest proposal. “Lead the way.”
Benny was surprisingly light on his feet for such a sturdy guy and he helped you get in a good groove, just for the song to switch into Patsy Cline. Benny slowed it down into a stroll to fit the song and you giggled as he told you about what his ex Andrea had done now, after getting out of prison for trying to stab him, of all things.
“You are so better off without her,” you told him, patting his chest as the song came to a close.
Dinner was phenomenal: medallion sized steaks that were still juicy inside with spiral cut fried potatoes, green bean almondine and Waldorf salad. There were four tables set for eight set up in the space that would usually hold a dozen two or four seaters. Elizabeth finally took a seat as you were half way through a plate, but you made sure to let her know how amazing everything was.
“Oh, it’s nothing, now make sure you save room for pie. Got Strawberry Rhubarb, Dutch Apple and Blackberry waitin’,” she insisted like a favorite grandmother and not somebody you could have gone to school with.
Dean groaned deeper as she mentioned each variety, making everyone around your table share a knowing look.
“Easy there, Dean might need to claim a pie as his own, you know how he gets. And I am not one for sloppy seconds,” Benny teased.
The table erupted and Dean didn’t even look like he cared. “If she ends up sending me home with a whole pie, it’s my business what happens to it.”
Tears were burning in your eyes from laughter and the lecherous look Dean shot Benny. He was ridiculous.
You turned to Bela, “good thing Sam isn’t at our table or he’d need to excuse himself.”
“It is getting a bit indecent isn’t it?” Bela said out of the side of her mouth.
“Are you raggin’ on me now, too?!” Dean asked aghast.
“Of course not! Just don’t want your girlfriend to get jealous of a pastry,” you quipped.
A low rumble of an accepted burn answered from around the table.
“Hey now, my girl knows what tickles my taste buds, if you know what I’m saying,” Dean shot back, earning him a fist bump from Lee.
Bela rolled her eyes and shrugged, which only made the laughter louder. The humor dissipated until every noise was roaring like the ocean in your ears. This wasn’t even the worst thing you’d heard out of Dean’s mouth, after years of groupies and life on tour, you thought you’d heard and seen it all. But Bela not denying Dean’s prowess in pussy eating suddenly made you feel impossibly lost.
You literally set up the joke and now you wished for anything to take it back.
“Gentleman, please!” Elizabeth broke into the cacophony. “Or no dessert.”
Which promptly set them all off once again, but they got their act together enough to be gracious when the pie did arrive. You had blackberry and it was thick and rich enough to keep you from opening your big mouth again. Also the vodka cranberry you had switched to was a perfect chaser for the sweetness of the filling.
Two more drinks and three hours later, you were in better spirits and a sequined top hat. The noise makers were harder to come by, Madison and Benny fighting over the last one like toddlers over the last Hot Wheel. Sam had to break it up, which meant Madison won anyway, naturally. But at least Benny could still whistle. The countdown was getting close and everyone was crammed together on the makeshift dance floor under the dimmed lights, talking and swaying in circles. Dancing would have been too much with all the anticipation in the air.
You had your camera at the ready, taking small videos of the crowd and snapping selfies with anyone within reach. The lone television behind the counter hopped between coverage of celebrations in Vegas, Seattle and LA. You did a quick scan of your immediate vicinity for Bela and Dean. Finally, you found them next to Pam and Lee, who were sharing a bottle of bourbon between them, while Bela and Dean were whispering and readying their noisemakers and confetti respectively.
“Oooo, two couples one shot! I want you guys to make it count okay, this is for posterity’s sake!” you ordered, framing the shot just as the countdown began.
10…9…8…
Dean pulled Bela close by the waist. Lee tipped back another swig before almost losing his hat to the movement.
7…6…5…
Bela gazed up at Dean’s face and said something you couldn’t hear over the numbers shouting out of every corner of the party.
4…3…2…
Dean leaned in and started kissing Bela before she could get to one, tipping her back until she almost knocked into Lee, who was hauling Pam up by her haunches before starting to tongue fuck right there in front of your camera. You snapped countless shots, screaming and jumping in place as you worked your magic. Hot people doing hot things who were also clearly into it, was marketing gold.
Eat that Crowley.
Sam swooped you up in a hug and wished you happy new year, then came Charlie, who had arrived after dinner with some girls from her LARPing group. After a few elbows to the side, Dean broke from Bela’s mouth and welcomed you and Charlie into a group hug. The speakers blasted Auld Lang Syne and everyone joined in, arms linked and swaying to the stilted beat.
Elizabeth ensured the party was still going, so she had her people put out fresh appetizers and turned the jukebox back on. There was a run for the bathroom and then for refills and before you knew it it was after one. You had a fresh drink in your hand and a circle had formed around you of women grooving to Mustang Sally.
“Ride Sally, RIDE!” you all bellowed.
Bela had taken off her shoes and was holding them over her head as she swayed her hips. You whipped your head and shoulders back and forth feeling loose and timeless. Charlie was snapping and getting soulful as she sang along, knowing every line of the verses even.
Sam Cooke followed Wilson Pickett on the jukebox, slowing it down and sending your little circle off towards their partners. You didn’t care, you just kept swaying and taking turns singing “yeah— yeah!” and sipping your cocktail.
The crowd was thinning and you knew either brother would be corralling the group for the after party at their place shortly. Thank the label for drivers and security all on the craziest night of the year.
“Hey, you good?” Dean’s voice came out of nowhere and you turned towards his warmth, eyes closed and humming.
“Yeah, is it time–?”
“Let’s get off the dancefloor, I can barely hear you,” Dean took your elbow and brought you over to the edge of the counter where the bartender was wiping glasses dry.
“How are you? Need to puke and rally before we get in the car?” Dean asked firmly, testing your sobriety by your answer and the focus of your eyes.
“I’m fine, why? Is Bela puking?” you looked around for your bestie amongst the remaining partygoers.
“No, look, I just, here,” Dean brushed his knuckles against your cheek to get you to look back at him. Once he had your full attention, he leaned in and licked his lips, watching you as you waited for him to finish his thought. And then he was kissing you, hand on the back of your head and impossible lips massaging yours into complete submission.
You shuttered around a breath and opened your mouth for his tongue. That delicious sensation was enough to reset your brain and you pulled back, gasping.
You couldn’t form words and Dean’s face went from sleepy to wary to disappointed all in the blink of an eye.
“Look— you deserve a midnight kiss, too, you know. I just—- thought you should have one,” Dean said in the space between maybe and almost.
You cleared your throat. “Oh, well, I guess it’s okay then. Thanks?”
You couldn’t look him in the eye, you were too shellshocked, too exposed.
“I’ll start getting everybody towards the exit. See you at the cars,” Dean said lowly, fingertips brushing your hip as he moved through your space.
You finished your drink and got a road beer from the blissfully unaware bartender. It was time to slow down, especially if you were going to be in Dean’s space the rest of the night.
Damn it.
Tagging:
@deans-spinster-witch
@mrswhozeewhatsis
@cosicas-cuquis
@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@suckitands33
@ladysparkles78
@deans-baby-momma
@stoneyggirl2
@sassy-pelican
@leigh70
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@winharry
@lastactiontricia
@rockhoochie
Chapter Sixteen: Schleppen
#spotless series#dean/reader#dean/bela#slow burn#rockstar au#fake dating#dean angst#dean's got a potty mouth but you love it
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poisoned mercury | end up here
a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.
iv. end up here by 5sos
series masterlist | previous | next
“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you.
luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up.
anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name.
luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.”
“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.”
“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face.
“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan.
“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.”
you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore.
as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though.
when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said.
“five star,
i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was.
ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations.
luke :)”
the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine.
and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else.
you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.
after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though.
you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?”
“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?”
“well, i did help organize it.”
“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?”
“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.”
“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.”
“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.”
“are you cold?”
your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.”
luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.”
“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”
always so stubborn, luke thought.
“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?”
“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.”
luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof.
when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message.
he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him.
he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom.
“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.”
“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.”
“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.”
“did you write it?”
luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.”
“you need to stop doing that.”
he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?”
“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.”
“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.”
“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?”
you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte.
luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”
you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole.
you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills.
he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”
you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel.
you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.”
“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him.
“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.”
“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours.
“18.”
“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.”
you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?”
“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.”
there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy.
he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it.
you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck.
he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.”
you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.”
the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later.
–
“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!”
the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights.
then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air.
luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.”
he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic.
“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.”
“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!”
connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles.
luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!”
you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play.
“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.”
you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you.
the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed.
you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line.
but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this.
“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”
#frances writes#poisoned mercury#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan#luke pjo#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#percy jackson fanfic#percy jackson
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Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader
Summary: Finally starting to spend time with Eddie outside of your bedroom, everybody seems to know about the two of you but Dustin.
Word Count: 10.3k
Warnings: 18+ mdni, eddie’s never-ending pet names, frequent drug use (marijuana), smut, lots of high sex in the whole series idk what to tell you lol, tiny bit of dry humping, eddie’s fishnet fetish?, skinny dipping, fingering, p in v (unprotected but he pulls out), sex in an empty parking lot, squirting, pretty heavy subspace, not angst but crying after sex, eddie’s a little fucknasty sometimes but he worships his lady, cheesy ahh ending
A/N: just two emotionally damaged stoners trying to figure out how to love each other, what more can i say? the length of this one just kept getting away from me lol i’ve loved writing this series and even though the main storyline is over i’d love to keep writing about these two if anybody sends in blurb/headcanon requests or anything like that !! i had plenty of little ideas i had to leave out !!
part one | part two | tmic masterlist
Eddie paused in the mirror, fixing the hair laying on his forehead. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to get it to sit right on his shoulders– it was an old Kill ‘Em All t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of ages ago. He huffed and did one more frantic scan of his bedroom, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he was sure there had to be something he’d missed. Bed made, laundry done, and messes cleared away, his room looked cleaner than he’d seen it in probably two years. Deciding it wasn’t gonna get any cleaner in the next fifteen minutes, he dashed down the short hallway to double-check that the living room was spotless.
He’d draped the nicest blanket they had over the back of the couch and even specifically bought a few candles to light around the room just for the occasion. A few pre-rolled joints sat out on the coffee table alongside the selection of horror movies that Steve definitely didn’t let him sneak out of Family Video for free; he wanted to give you options, so he settled on The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, and The Evil Dead. He would have happily taken you to see a movie, maybe even a drive-in, but you’d said you’d rather it be just the two of you.
Three knocks sounded at the door, making him jump. You were four minutes earlier than he expected. Stepping to the door, he glanced around the room again and blew out a heavy breath before he opened it.
And there you were. Black shorts peeking out under your baggy Dio tee and a bag of snacks in hand from the gas station a couple miles off, you smiled at him. “Hi.”
Eddie couldn’t help his cheesy grin as he replied, “Hey.” Something about you was so enrapturing to him. He could have just stared at you, standing in the afternoon sunlight shining on his doorstep, forever.
“You gonna let me in?”
“Oh! Uh– right.” He moved aside, opening the door wider. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, but uh–”
“Oh, knock it off. I don’t care about that shit.” You looked around, taking in the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls. The warm light outside made the closed mismatched curtains glow. “I think it’s perfect.”
He cleared his throat to overcome the warmth in his chest before he spoke. “I got a few different movies if you wanna pick.”
“Ooh, can we watch The Shining? It’s been a little while since I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites.”
“Sure thing,” He nodded. As he turned on the TV and put the tape in the VHS player, you found a seat on the couch and grabbed a joint off the table to light up. While you seemed totally at ease in his trailer, he was as nervous as the first time he met you. First date jitters, he supposed. You looked so comfortable curled up and smoking in the corner of his couch that, as he settled at the opposite end, he couldn’t help but feel like you belonged there.
Your legs stretched into his lap as you scooted down a bit to pass him the joint. He rubbed his free hand back and forth along your calf absentmindedly. “I don’t know how long you were planning on staying– if you wanna stick around after this movie, I could make a frozen pizza and we could watch another or something.”
“Sounds good to me,” You hummed in return.
Forty-five minutes into the movie, the first joint was gone and Eddie was focused intently on the television screen. You started to get fidgety though, foot nudging against his thigh. “What’d you sit so far away for?”
“I dunno, just thought I’d give you your space I guess? I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”
“C’mere.” Pinching at his shirt, you tugged until he scooted himself to you. Your legs lay completely over his lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t need space, I came here to be with you. It’s cute you’re taking this whole ‘first date’ thing so seriously, though.”
His cheeks flushed a little pink and he fiddled with his rings over your lap. “Sorry, I just– I want this to go well.” He laughed nervously as he continued, “I want to keep seeing you outside your bedroom, y’know? I want you to come to my shows, and I wanna take you to the diner, and I wanna kiss you goodbye after Hellfire sessions.”
You gave him a little smile, turning his face toward you to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I wanna do that stuff too, Eds. You know that you mean something to me, right? I just wanna go slow in the Dustin department. He has to be okay with this.”
“Okay,” Eddie nodded instantly, “However you wanna go about it. I swear, I’ll even ask the little loudmouth for his blessing when you want me to. I mean, I love that kid too.”
For a split second you just took in his features, and those big, earnest eyes were impossible not to believe. The material of his shirt scrunched between your fingers as you drew his lips to yours again. “Thank you for being there for him. And for me. You don’t know how much it means.”
He brushed a strand of hair back from your face with a little smile. “I think I do, sweetheart.”
“Hey, so where’s your sister?” Mike asked, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s like…always home.”
“I don’t know,” Dustin frowned, “I guess she just told Mom she was going out. Maybe I should call Robin and ask if she’s with her.”
“Dude, she’s an adult,” Lucas shook his head slightly. “She probably doesn’t need you to check in on her, I’m sure she’s fine.”
“But what if she isn’t?” As he continued, he paced the length of the basement, hands gesturing wildly with his words. “And what is she doing? ‘Going out’? What does that mean? Why is she trying to hide where she’s going? What if it’s somewhere sketchy?”
“You need to calm down,” Mike insisted. “It really isn’t that serious, she’s probably with Robin and Steve or something.”
“Right, so I should just call Robin and make sure!”
Lucas still rolled his eyes, but Dustin was already dashing up the stairs to the phone. “Great, now he’s gonna lose it if she’s not with Robin.”
“Where else would she be?”
“Literally anywhere, man. She could be at the record store, or with Nancy, or maybe with...”
“You don’t think she could be with Eddie–” But Mike was cut off by footsteps thundering down the stairs.
“She’s not with Robin, Steve, or Nancy which means I’m out of people to call which means I’m officially concerned. Do you think we should go out and start checking places? I mean, what if she smoked like– like– bad weed or something? I don’t know how that stuff works! Why wouldn’t she tell me where she’s going? She should know I’m worried sick!”
“Oh my god, would you relax? Did you talk to your mom?”
“Well, of course she thinks everything’s fine! She trusts us both implicitly when she obviously shouldn’t!”
Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath before he looked at him. “I seriously think you’re overreacting. Like Lucas said, she’s an adult; she doesn’t have to tell you everything. She’s allowed to have a life.”
Having returned to his pacing, Dustin halted and looked at him with an offended expression. “Are you trying to say I’m clingy? I’m not clingy!”
“I’m not saying you’re clingy! I’m just saying that you do your own shit, she probably does her own shit too. Maybe she’s taking time to herself or maybe she’s out with a guy or something.”
“There’s no way she’s out with a guy. She would tell me if there was a guy! And where would she even meet a guy? Work? She barely talks to anyone, you guys know that!” Mike and Lucas shared a glance before looking in different directions.
“Look, if she’s not home in an hour we’ll go check a couple places, alright?” Lucas finally sighed.
“An hour? It’s already a quarter after nine!” Then they heard the front door close and Dustin was racing back up the stairs. There you stood, kicking off your shoes beside everyone else’s, a smile on your face that you were trying to bite back. Until your brother and his friends burst out of the basement. “And where on Earth have you been?”
You looked at him questioningly. “Enjoying my day off?”
“By yourself? Until nine-thirty at night?” He placed his hands on his hips, scanning you with a scrutinizing gaze. “What were you doing?”
“What’s with the third degree? I stopped at the bookstore, then I went out in the woods and read for a while. Is that okay, Mom?”
“Don’t condescend to me, you had me worried half to death!”
As you replied, you ruffled his hair. “Aw, well that’s very sweet, Dusty. I’m fine though, you don’t need to wait up for me.”
“See? We told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mike chimed. When he and Lucas gave each other another pointed look, however, he knew they’d both seen the faint hickey peeking out from your shirt collar that Dustin had apparently missed.
“Goodnight, boys. I’ll make you guys some breakfast in the morning, alright?” They all called back their own goodnights as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom and they made their way back into the basement.
Later that night you were dozing off, still dressed and on top of the blankets, when you jolted back to full consciousness at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. Grumbling a little under your breath, you rubbed your eyes.
You were halfway down the hall when you heard the basement door creak open, and suddenly you were wide awake. At half past midnight, there was no way anyone other than Eddie was calling and there was definitely no way Dustin could answer that call. Increasing your pace to a slightly-panicked speedwalk until you were in the room with him, you just barely made it to the phone before him. You pressed the receiver into your chest to muffle your voice as you practically whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Dusty, it’s for me.”
“Who is it?”
“Nancy, she wanted to talk about what I got from the bookstore but she was busy with Robin and Steve,” You answered easily. He nodded and yawned out another goodnight before booking it back downstairs. Letting out a relieved exhale, you finally raised the phone to your ear. “Sorry, Dustin almost picked up. Everything okay?”
“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s fine. I tried not to call, I swear I did, but–” He laughed a little embarrassedly, “Fuck, when can I see you again?”
“Eddie,” You whispered through a little giggle. “You had to call about that now?”
“I mean, I could always come over so we could talk about it in person instead,” He teased.
“I just left your place three hours ago.”
“Should’a just stayed the night, babe,” He sighed regretfully.
Clutching at non-existent pearls, you replied, “Stay the night? On the first date? Eddie Munson, what kind of girl do you take me for?”
“Of course, sweet thing, you’re right. You could never do anything so scandalous as sharing a bed with me before we’re really goin’ steady.” You could picture that smirk on his face as he spoke. “Guess that means we’ve gotta plan a second date, huh?”
“Guess so,” You hummed. “Have anything in mind?”
“Well, I was thinking,” He began slowly. “Maybe you could come to one of our shows? I know that’s not a super great date idea since I’m gonna be on stage pretty much the whole time and everything, but–”
“No, that sounds great,” You interrupted. “When’re you guys playing next?”
“Friday night at eight.”
“Alright, I’ll see you at The Hideout on Friday then.”
“Alright,” He cooed back playfully. “G’night, baby.”
Standing in front of your open closet, you rustled through all your clothes in indecision. “I don’t know what I should wear.” Nancy, Robin, and Steve sat side by side by side on the edge of your bed, peering into the closet from behind you. The latter opened his mouth to share an opinion but held his tongue as your younger brother leaned in your door.
“What’re you doing?”
“Uh– just trying to find something to wear, I’m going out later.” You shrugged off his question and continued shuffling through your hanging shirts.
“Again with this ‘going out’ stuff! With who?”
“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.
“Thought we’d go check out Eddie’s show at The Hideout tonight,” Steve added. “Show him some support since it’s usually just the drunks there.”
Dustin eyed you for a split second but seemed to move on from whatever suspicion he had toward you quickly. “Cool, I’ll let Mike and Lucas know. We were gonna hang at Mike’s, but we can all go to the show together instead.”
“You can’t come, Dusty. That’s not a kid-friendly environment,” You told him apologetically.
“What? Come on! We’re not kids, we’re in high school! We wanna see Eddie perform too, he’s our friend!”
“Oh, so now he’s just your guys’ friend,” Steve chimed. “Before, you were practically begging us to get along.” He stood and crossed the room to ruffle Dustin’s curls. “Seriously, dude, your sister’s right. This place is nothing but adults drinking, I doubt they’d even let you stay if you came in with us.”
“See? Your mother says no,” You confirm. “Sorry, Dustin, really. Maybe we could all do something together as a big group though soon, yeah? All of us and the Hellfire club. We could sit in on a session or take you all to the movies or something, okay?”
He paused, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his undone, patterned overshirt. “That’d actually be pretty cool. You’d do that?”
“Yeah, kid, it’s no problem.” You walked over to give him a side hug before nudging him out the door. “Now beat it, I’ve gotta get ready.” It took another minute or two of brainstorming before you decided to snag Dustin’s Hellfire t-shirt from his laundry basket– thank God you had just done his laundry for him. You thought it’d be the best fan attire since Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly selling merchandise.
Once you were ready to go, Robin called shotgun as the four of you piled into Steve’s car. “Sorry that you guys have to tag along now, but you know how Dustin gets.”
Glancing at you briefly in the rearview mirror, Steve replied, “It’s no big deal. Sorry I told him you were going to see Eddie.”
“It’s fine,” You shook your head. “I wanna lie to him as little as possible anyway, I just haven’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”
“I know he wants you to, but you don’t always have to tell him everything right away,” Robin reminded you. “I mean, what were you gonna tell him– that you were fucking one of his best friends? He doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you guys are actually together yet–” She was interrupted by a punch in the shoulder from Steve.
He gave her an incredulous look before Nancy took over, reaching over and squeezing your hand. “What she means is, you guys should take your relationship at your own pace and tell Dustin when you think the time is right.”
“Right, that’s exactly what I was gonna say,” Steve added.
Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.”
“What? I was!”
When you were finally standing in the parking lot of The Hideout, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Robin hooked an arm around your shoulders and started for the door. “Come on,” She drawled. “Let’s catch ‘em before the show starts, you’ll be okay.”
They weren’t hard to find, setting up on stage front and center. You could see Eddie kneeling down to plug in the amp until Gareth lightly hit his arm and pointed in your direction. A grin stretched across his face as his stare dragged over your frame, taking in your fishnets, short skirt, and Hellfire tee. He excused himself to the rest of the guys before jogging over to you. “Hey, I didn’t realize you guys were coming along.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Dustin found out where I was going and I didn’t want him to get nosy–”
“Are you kidding? This is the most sober people we’ve ever had in an audience, don’t sweat it.” He briefly squeezed your waist then let his hand settle on your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t meet your eyes just yet. “I appreciate you guys coming, I know it’s not really your kinda music.”
Steve waved him off. “Nah, man, I’m sure it’ll be great.”
“Thanks, Harrington.” His arm moved from your waist to your shoulders, “I’m gonna steal her from you guys for a couple minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to show her some of the equipment.” Robin opened her mouth to make a smart remark but was stopped by another punch from Steve.
He guided you to a nook behind one of the walls in the far corner of the bar. Humming lowly, he cupped your face so you’d look at him. “You really dressed for the occasion, pretty girl. You look fucking incredible.”
“Well, I haven’t gotten my exclusive Corroded Coffin t-shirt yet, so I figured this was the next best thing.”
“My apologies, babe, I’ll get right on that.” He dipped his head to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.
“Somebody smoked a joint without me,” You teased.
With a good-natured smile, he rolled his eyes in false exasperation. “Sorry, should’a gotten here earlier. We can smoke all you want after, alright? Pothead.”
“What’s that thing people say?” You asked sarcastically. “I think it was something about a pot, maybe a kettle?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughed. A whistle from Gareth called his attention to the stage and he exhaled heavily. “Okay, that’s my cue. Wish me luck?”
“Like you need it,” You pecked his lips. “I’m really excited to hear you play. You guys are gonna do great.” Eddie smiled and stole one last quick kiss before darting back to the stage, leaving you to make your way back to the others.
“We may have taken the liberty of getting you a drink,” Steve said as Robin pushed a glass across the table toward you.
“I would be offended if you hadn’t.” Taking a few swigs, you looked over to where Eddie was finally settling the mic into its stand, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. They didn’t bother with grand introductions given the small crowds that gathered weren’t exactly there to see Corroded Coffin; they simply started into their set.
The boys mostly stuck to covers of semi-popular songs– sticking to their roots with Metallica and Black Sabbath, but appeasing the bar patrons with some Led Zepplin and a grudging Bon Jovi song. A few pieces they’d weaved in were their own and you could tell, but they certainly weren’t out of place. You could see where their inspiration came from.
You caught up with Nancy, Robin, and Steve between songs, but they mostly carried the conversation as you watched Eddie. Anyone really paying attention would be able to see that he was in his element. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead, fingers moving masterfully over the strings as he powered through Trapped Under Ice with incredible accuracy. While you had heard the dramatic voices he put on during Hellfire, you hadn’t known that he could also mimic James Hetfield and Ozzy very impressively. He wasn’t perfect, but what little he lacked in refinement and precision, he more than made up for with passion.
The middle-aged drunks occasionally gave some muted applause for the songs they recognized, but otherwise ignored the free entertainment. He really was underappreciated here. In front of a real audience, you couldn’t imagine the kind of stage presence he’d have.
Over the next two hours, you worked your way through a couple drinks. You hoped the frequent crossing of your legs could be attributed to the short skirt you were wearing rather than your dwindling patience and self-control as you waited for Eddie to finish his set. When they finally wrapped up their last song, you made your way up to the stage. He was lowering the mic stand when you got to him, holding his gaze as you dropped a twenty in the guitar case in front of him. There were only a few other bills and some loose change inside.
“God, please don’t. Seriously, that’s insulting.”
“Are you kidding? That’s an investment. I expect it back with interest when you guys make it big.” He held a hand out to you as you joined him on the stage. “Really, I thought you were amazing. You’ll see when you get outta this place.”
He just gave you a small smile and brushed his thumb over your cheek, eyes sweeping over your face briefly before he took both your hands. “So I really do wanna hang with you, babe, but I absolutely have to move all our gear first. Is there any way I can convince you to stick around?” His lips dragged over your knuckles, leaving a few kisses as he spoke. “Have a li’l smoke sesh in the back of the van once it’s empty. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Your chest warmed at the attention he was lavishing you with in front of all of his friends– Dustin’s friends– and you tucked your chin a little bashfully. “That’s fine, Eds.”
“Awesome. We’re gonna finish loading the van, then you can ride with me to Gare’s to unload everything there, then I’m all yours. Cool?”
“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”
Holding your face in one hand, he squished your cheeks and shook your head back and forth lightly. “Always makin’ fun ‘a me, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on your puckered lips and subtly patted your butt. “Go sit with your friends and I’ll let you know when I’m finished, okay? So glad I had my best girl cheerin’ me on tonight.”
As he went back to helping the guys pack up, you went back to Robin, Nancy, and Steve who paused their conversation when you sat down.
“Swooning already?”
“Somebody’s definitely looking a little starstruck,” Robin added. “Ready to ask him to sign your boobs?”
“The way it’s sounding, he might later,” You replied before taking a sip of your drink.
“I’m proud of you,” She nodded and took your hands dramatically over the table. “At least one of us is leading a successful love life. We will live vicariously through you.”
“Well then, let me know when we figure out how to tell our little brother that we’re dating his male mentor.”
“Wait, did Dustin say Eddie was his male mentor?” Steve interjected. “That’s so not true–”
Robin shook her head. “Steve, shut up.” She smacked your hand and nodded behind you just before you felt hands settle on your chair.
“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” Eddie’s rings clinked against the metal of the chair, his voice not far from your ear making your heart rate pick up.
“Yeah, you guys were great. We’ll have to come again sometime,” Steve replied.
Nancy politely asked, “How long have you been playing, Eddie? Some of those songs seemed pretty complex.”
“I started playing with the guys when I was in eighth grade, but I started teaching myself around sixth. So, I guess about…nine or ten years?” He shrugged, thumbs drumming against the chair.
“You’re really talented,” She commended.
“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” His hand shifted to your shoulder before he continued on playfully, “Your guys’ friend here gets a backstage pass though, which means she gets to come watch us unload equipment at Gareth’s mom’s house and smoke my weed.” He took your hand as you stepped down from your high-top chair, pushing it in for you and grabbing your purse as you said goodbye. “Thank you guys again for coming. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?”
Steve gave him a one-armed hug as he nodded, “Definitely, man.”
The two of you walked back to the van, hand in hand, your steps echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot. The others were already waiting in Gareth’s garage passing around a joint when you pulled into the driveway. You followed Eddie around to the back of the van as he opened one of the back doors. Gareth got up to open the other one, handing you the joint as he passed you.
“Alright, boys, think we can manage our fastest unload yet?” Eddie asked, cracking his knuckles.
“Yeah. As long as you don’t tweak your fuckin’ back again, old ass,” Jeff scoffed in return.
“Seriously, dude. Lift with your legs,” Gareth chimed.
Eddie made a talking motion with his hand and mumbled mockingly back before grabbing one of Gareth’s drums. “Start moving your shit or I’ll stop discounting your weed.”
“Oh, yes! Forgive me, master!” Gareth snarked, voice quavering with feigned fear.
They all got to work on moving the drum kit out first before moving on to the other equipment. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you took a hit and sat on the edge of one of the chairs they had out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I mean, there’s a fridge in the corner, you wanna grab a few beers?” Jeff asked, getting a grasp on one side of an amp.
Gripping the other side of the amp, Eddie gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, did you seriously just send her on a beer run?”
“It’s literally the other side of the garage. Shut the fuck up and bend your knees.”
You grabbed a beer for everyone– except Eddie, who was stuck with cherry Coke until he was done driving– and passed them out when they were done moving the amps. Then, to kill some of the time, you sat in the van and packed a bowl to smoke with Eddie later. When the equipment left in the back started to dwindle, you, Jeff, and Barry made conversation while Eddie unloaded some of the lighter equipment with Gareth. Keeping his voice low, the drummer suddenly spoke. “You know you have to like– marry her, right?”
“What’re you talking about?” Eddie chuckled, though his face and neck warmed at the mental image.
Gareth jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in your direction. “Dude, she’s over there talking to your nerdy loser bandmates about Judas Priest’s influences on Iron Maiden’s first album. And she’s actually invested. You’re not gonna find another girl like that in Hawkins. Not to mention how you talk about her–”
“Alright, shut it,” He huffed. “Just help me get this shit out, it’s getting late.”
When the last of it was finally tucked away in Gareth’s garage, Eddie checked his watch and sighed. Eleven-thirty. “Damn.” Your conversation with the boys had drifted to your opinions on heavy metal power ballads when his hands settled on your waist. “Sorry that took so long, you ready to get going?”
“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ll see you guys later though, alright? We should really head out.” The three of them thanked you for coming and said their goodbyes before settling back into their fold-out chairs, presumably to keep getting fried.
You and Eddie climbed into the van and he started it up before looking over at you. “It’s not the first date anymore. Any chance I can convince you to stay the night?”
“No convincing needed. I didn’t know how late I’d be home so I already asked Nancy to cover for me if Dustin calls.”
“Wait, you really want to?”
“Of course I do. Will Wayne mind me staying there?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t care. He works the night shift and sometimes he works overtime, so he usually isn’t back until six or eight in the morning. And occasionally he’ll even stop for a drink with a couple guys from work and that could take ‘til ten,” He explained with a little crooked smile. “He’d love you, though.”
You noticed him freeze up a little as he registered his own words, so you took one of his hands and laced your fingers through his in your lap. “I’m sure I’d love him, too. He must be a great man if he raised you.”
He squeezed your hand lightly as he relaxed. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” There was a moment of quiet, just the low hum of the radio and the roar of the van until Eddie spoke again. “You wouldn’t wanna go to Lover’s Lake, would you?”
“Sure.” His hand settled on your thigh and your lips curled down as you repressed a little smirk. “I didn’t take you for the type.”
“Hey, I can be romantic,” He defended lightheartedly. “I just prefer places like these when they’re less populated.”
“Why? So you can smoke and have sex in them?” You asked with a joking scoff.
“No, I just like my privacy. It’s more intimate without a bunch of obnoxious people around.” He paused, then conceded. “But yes, I like to have a range of recreational activities to choose from. Is that so bad?”
You shifted your leg so his hand drifted further up your thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking me there to do both, would you, Eds?”
“I’m taking you there to do whatever you wanna do, sweet thing.” His tone remained casual, but his hand slowly crept higher and higher. “We could lay down and look at the stars…Maybe go for a swim…” Goosebumps rose on your skin as his short nails dragged across it, fingers catching on the loops of your fishnets. “What d’you think?”
“We didn’t bring swimsuits,” You remind him.
“So?” He asked as he pulled into the small gravel lot hidden by the trees. Looking over at you with a smirk, he continued, “There’s no one else here.” He got out of the van and came around to open your door as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”
After grabbing a couple of blankets from the back of the van, he took your hand and lead you out away from the trees. You helped him lay out the blankets, crawling onto them and kicking off your shoes. Eddie lay down beside you and you looked over at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been out here at night. It’s really pretty.”
“Can’t believe you think so when you get to look in the mirror every day,” He shot back without effort, giving you that goofy grin of his.
Lightly smacking his arm, you fought back a big smile of your own. “That was terrible, you know that, right? That was actually so bad.” Your combined laughter sounded loud in the near-silent clearing of the lake; your voices were only accompanied by the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot.
He rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked down at you. “You’ve gotta get used to taking my compliments, babe, even the corny ones. ‘Cause soon they’ll be comin’ non-stop.” You simply hummed in response, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to shift over you, arms on either side of you to support himself as his knee braced between your legs. Lips sticky with your lip gloss, his mouth made a path to your neck. “Y’really do look so pretty tonight, baby. Never seen you in a skirt before, I could barely pay attention to our set.”
“I thought you did amazing.” His hot breath on your neck made you squirm, grasping at his shirt as your hips wound against the firmness of his thigh. “Had me wet the whole time.”
“Fuck, wanted to get my hands on you so bad. Just performing had you all soaked for me, huh?” Your skirt rode up toward your waist until Eddie decided it was unnecessary, leaning back to yank it off. “Jesus H. Christ, fucking look at you.” Lying beneath him, fishnets stretched taut over your spread thighs leading up to your Hellfire tee, you were his fucking dream. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t a religious man but, at that moment, he wished he was because he felt like he needed to thank somebody for your existence. It was like every fantasy he’d ever had simply walked out of his head and into his life. “Seriously, I might need to take a minute.”
“Can you help me out of these while you do?” You ask, curling your legs up to your chest.
He guided one of them up to his shoulder, running his hand down your outstretched leg and eyeing the tights before he looked at you. “Am I in trouble if I say no?”
“If you take them off now without ripping them I’ll wear them for you again sometime,” You bargained teasingly.
“I’ll do it if you let me eat you out through them next time.”
You shoved lightly at his chest with your foot, trying not to laugh. “You’re such a freak.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but you could see he didn’t take the name to heart coming from you as his hips pressed into your ass. “Careful callin’ me names, babe. I’m starting to like it when you’re mean to me.”
“Pervert.”
He hummed, trailing kisses down the inside of your leg and finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your fishnets. “Only for you, sweetheart.” His short nails scraped gently along your skin again as he carefully drew the tights down your legs. The second they were off, you sat up to pull him into another hungry kiss.
Deepening it, he started to ease you onto your back again but was shocked when you pulled away. With a coy smile, you asked, “How ‘bout that swim?”
Baffled, he was unable to come up with a response before you were standing and whipping your shirt off. His brain kicked back into gear when you dashed away from him toward the lake. Then he was running after you, fumbling to kick off his shoes and strip in the process. He froze as he watched you take off your bra and jump in wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. Finally kicking off his jeans, Eddie dove in after you.
Attempting to wipe the water from your eyes, you looked around for him in the water. Just as he breached the surface behind you, though, he grabbed your waist and shouted. Your squeal broke into a fit of giggles as he squeezed your sides and pulled you into his chest. “You’re such a dick!”
“That’s what you get for bein’ a tease.” Staying close to shore, the water came nearly to his shoulders. He urged you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands settling under your butt to hold you comfortably.
Arms settling loosely around his neck, you looked away pointedly, that mischievous little expression finding its way to your face again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you don’t. ‘Cause the sweet girl I know would never do a thing like that, right?” He asked sarcastically.
You shook your head and answered in a falsely solemn tone. “Never.”
He chuckled softly until you leaned into him, nipples hardened from the chill of the water and pressing into his chest. Faint smiles never left your faces as you shared a few messy kisses. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down your spine while you pushed a strand of wet hair from his face. Swept off his shoulders, his soaked hair allowed you to see his whole face more clearly than ever. He started to feel self-conscious as your eyes drifted slowly over his features, taking him in, your thumb stroking over a spot beneath his ear that gave him chills. “You’re so handsome, Eddie.” He opened his mouth slightly like he was going to respond, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything so you changed the topic for him. “It’s nice here at night, we should come back again sometime when we don’t have any other plans.”
Eyebrows furrowing, he frowned in confusion. “What do you mean ‘other plans’?”
Untangling yourself from him, you faced him and swam backward toward the dock. “Hotboxing the van and having amazing sex, obviously. C’mon.” Climbing out, you held your arm tight over your chest as you snagged your bra off the dock and ran to the blankets still on the ground.
Eddie was close behind, picking up his trail of abandoned clothing. He started to apologize for the lack of towels, but you quickly waved him off and you both dried off as well as you could with one of the blankets. While you wrapped yourself in the dry blanket, he gathered your things with his to carry it all back to the car. “Go ahead and get in the back, I’ll start it up and get the music going.”
Opening one of the back doors, you found that the floor was already covered with other blankets. Climbing inside, you felt the van rumble to life. You could hear Eddie rustling through cassettes in his console as you peeled off your sopping-wet underwear and curled up with the pillows and blankets he’d put back there. The bowl you’d packed in hand, he finally joined you in the back. When he climbed in he paused to fidget with something you couldn’t see and suddenly the back doors were illuminated by little twinkling lights. He swung the door closed and tugged off his boxers before you asked, “When did you have time to do all this?”
“Hm? Oh, it’s all been back here for a little while. I just laid the blankets out in here when I grabbed the other ones to lay down by the lake.” He settled beside you, the top half of his blanket bunched in his lap leaving you free to ogle his tattoos– a favorite pastime of yours. “You want the first hit?”
You shook your head with a small smile, eyes tracing his features like they had in the lake. His hair was still heavy with water, but his forehead was hidden again and his curls were starting to come back. With nothing but moonlight, his eyes had looked black; in the glow of the fairy lights, you could see their warm cocoa-brown color again. His pretty lips formed an O as smoke billowed out of them. Their blushy-pink color nearly matched the flush on his cheeks, which you knew would spread to his neck and chest soon enough. He was beautiful, really.
He offered you the bowl and it stayed quiet, excepting the Master of Reality album playing softly, while you took a few long rips. You passed it back to him and let the silence continue for a moment before you finally said, “I’m gonna tell Dustin.” Unintentionally hitching in a breath, he choked on a throatful of smoke. The resulting coughing fit was so intense it brought tears to his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh as you rubbed his back. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you still leaned over the console to grab the bottle of water from the cup holder.
Taking a few swigs, he cleared his throat. “Okay, sorry,” He let out a big breath before he looked at you again. “You’re ready to tell him?”
“Yeah.” Too nervous to hold his gaze, you curled into his side. He welcomed you, of course, tucking his blanket around the both of you and kissing the top of your head. “I just feel like things have gotten…real. You try to take care of me in ways no one else has before and everything feels so easy with you– and honestly, both of those things scare the shit out of me ‘cause that usually means everything is absolutely going to go to shit…But you look out for my brother, and I feel like I can trust you, and everything we do together just feels so intimate…” You huffed embarrassedly and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I think Dustin deserves to know that I care about you so much.”
“That we care about each other,” He corrected you. Hand framing your jaw, Eddie made you meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be there with you when you tell him. I don’t want you to do it alone, we should do it together. I still have to get his blessing, right?” He added jokingly. Before you could say anything, he started to ramble a little nervously. “I feel like this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve never had the chance to have anything serious before, but you…You’re all I think about now. That first day I met you, it was like I had this ‘Where have you been all my life?’ moment and you’re all I’ve wanted since, and I know that sounds really cheesy and dramatic but–”
Your mouth on his cut him off, which seemed to be a habit you were forming. He didn’t mind though, he’d been told to shut up in much less pleasant ways. When you pulled away, it was only enough to murmur, “I know the feeling.” Your nose nudging his was enough for him to keep it going, hand hooking under your knee and drawing you to straddle his lap.
The blanket slumped to your waist leaving your torso bare for his eyes and hands to wander. “You’re just so fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty girl, right, baby?”
Toying with one of his damp curls, you held his gaze as you agreed, “No one else’s.” At your answer, he pulled you in for a much more desperate kiss. His fingers pressed into your back while the others slipped beneath you to find you soaked, your chest flush with his as his tongue passed your lips.
He pressed two fingers into you easily, slowly massaging your g-spot until you were whining into his mouth. “Feels like you might not even need me to stretch you out, sweetheart.” Hips canting forward involuntarily, your clit ground into the thick base of his cock. Finally letting you catch your breath, he withdrew his hand from between you and looked down to watch how your slick spread on his skin as he rutted against you. “Mmm, gonna let me show you how bad I need you?”
You brushed his hair back from his shoulders as you breathily replied, “Condom?”
“Wallet,” He answered. Leaning over his shoulder to grab it off the console put you in the perfect position for Eddie to mouth at your tits, lips wrapping around one nipple while the roughened pads of his fingers found the other. You moaned quietly and tugged at his hair, but grabbed the wallet and rifled through it.
“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”
“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.
Huffing impatiently, you began to wind your hips against his again. “D’you promise to pull out if I let you fuck me raw?”
He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Really– I mean, are you sure? You don’t have to.”
“Need to feel you now, Eddie,” You insisted.
“Alright, sweetheart, I promise.” He lovingly pecked your lips before grasping your waist, helping keep you steady as you slowly sank down on him. Fully seated in his lap, a gasp rose in your throat. “There you go,” He murmured comfortingly. “I know, baby, but you’re so good. Can finally feel how wet you really are. Takin’ me so deep.”
Your voice was nothing but a high-pitched, airy sigh. “Feel you everywhere.”
“S’Cause I’m made for you.” Your forehead rested against his as he continued. “I was made to fill you up, pretty girl.” His words provoked a pathetic moan from you, spurring you to lift your hips fractionally just to ease back down again. Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you tried to start up a steady pace, but your thighs trembled with every motion. The moans and whimpers you let out started to sound quiet and watery and it worried him, but the determined rocking of your hips never ceased. “You doing okay, baby?”
Not lifting your head, you sniffed frustratedly. “Need help, Eddie.”
“Oh, baby, why didn’t you say so?” He cooed sympathetically. “S’okay to need my help, c’mere.”
Arms around your waist, he guided you up and down on his cock at a careful speed until you were grinding down on him again. “Eds please, I need more,” You whimpered. Rolling his hips to meet yours, he didn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around you and quicken his pace. The way he was hitting every possible spot inside you had your eyes squeezing shut to keep them from crossing. Thighs trembling, you shivered as he rubbed and squeezed at them.
Eddie’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the console, hands running slowly over your hips and across your stomach to palm at your tits. “Look so pretty on top’a me, sweet girl. Might have to make you ride me more often.” His thrusts into you sped up, the console against his back giving him more leverage. One of your hands rested lightly on his lower abdomen to steady yourself but once his thumb found your clit, you were practically writhing in his lap. He rubbed it in firm, precise circles and felt you squeeze around his cock uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Can’t wait to feel you soak me for the first time.”
Something felt different than usual as that coil wound tighter in your stomach. It was hotter, like flames were crawling across your skin. It felt like your bones shook and your eyes swam with stars as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his stomach, those of the other hand doing the same to his thigh, trying to anchor yourself with your head in the clouds.
It wasn’t until the ringing in your ears cleared that you heard Eddie’s feral groans, making you look down. Everything was drenched; your thighs, his cock, his stomach, and his chest glistened wet in the warm lights. The sight made you register the sloshing sounds of your dripping wet pussy as he started to slow his thrusts enough to pull out. Arms enclosing around your waist again, he all but pinned you to his chest as he rutted between your stomachs. Lips molding to yours, he kissed you sloppily before his gaze wandered your body in awe. “Can’t believe you fuckin’ squirted f’me. Fuck–” Cut off by his own moan, his forehead fell to your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, his hot spend painting both your skin and his.
After he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, he eased you onto your back, watching the filthy mixture of your come drip down your used cunt. “Eds, what’re you doin’?” You asked timidly as he lowered himself between your thighs, voice coming out in a barely-there squeak.
“Wishin’ I could take a fucking picture, sweetheart. I was gonna clean you up. Want me to use the blanket instead? S’okay if you’re too sensitive, especially after all that.” You nodded and he kissed the side of your knee with a smile as he grabbed the soiled blanket and quickly wiped himself off. Your legs flinched as he patted you dry and his eyes filled with concern as he murmured your name. “Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?”
“No,” You struggled to raise your voice above a mumble. “I’m okay, Eds, I’m jus’ all sensitive.”
“Promise me that’s it?” He asked, running his hands comfortingly over your legs. Pointedly avoiding his gaze, you huffed through your nose and your eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, c’mon, what is it? What’s the matter?”
You answered him in a whimper, sniffing back tears every few words. “I jus’ made a mess ‘n I’ve never done that before ‘n now everything’s all yucky–”
“Aw, baby,” He chuckled through a sympathetic pout. Lying down and drawing you to his chest, he wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. The two of you curled up under one of the clean blankets. “Nothing’s yucky, sweet girl. Just gotta wash the blankie, no big deal.”
“But ‘m still all sticky,” You pout up at him. “C’n we take a bath when we get home?”
“Home?”
“Your trailer, Eddie,” You whine. “Wanna take a bath.” Lids heavy with exhaustion, your eyes slowly fluttered closed repeatedly before they’d snap open again.
“You’re so sleepy, sweet girl.” He brushed your hair back from your face. “Think you can take a little nap back here while I drive us home?” You nodded dreamily but still clutched at him whenever he tried to get up. “I know, baby, just twenty minutes and we can take a bath. Okay?” When you finally conceded, he tugged on his jeans and made the short drive home.
Once you were bathed and dressed in nothing but a borrowed Metallica t-shirt, he tucked you into his bed before crawling in beside you. You dozed off easily with your head on his chest, but he stayed up just a little while longer. Palm rubbing circles on your back, his lips ghosted over your forehead. “I love you, baby,” He whispered almost silently. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feeling of your heart beating against his side, counting them like a child would sheep until he fell asleep.
The next morning, you woke up first, Eddie’s arms around you and his chest molded to your back. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help your tiny smirk as you registered the feeling of him squeezing at your tit, his even, heavy breaths against your shoulder telling you he was fast asleep. Slowly rocking your hips back, you bit back a laugh when it made his grasp tighten while he nuzzled into your neck. He rutted against you, half-hearted and arrhythmic in his unconscious state. It wasn’t until you reached back to hold his hip and grind directly against his cock, separated only by his boxers, that he finally grunted himself awake. “Mmm, g’morning t’you too, gorgeous.”
“You’re a perv even in your sleep, you know that, Munson?”
He mouthed at your neck with a sleepy grin, “I could’a told you that. How’d you know I was dreamin’ about you?”
“Well, your right hand was my first clue.” You pointedly ground your hips into his again and looked back over your shoulder at him, “Wanna guess my second?”
“Can’t help but get ideas, babe. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, in my shirt, no panties…” His fingers walked a path down your stomach, stopping just after your belly button. “Promise I kept my hands to myself, though– while I was awake, anyway.”
His hand drifted leisurely between your legs but you groaned. “Eds, what time is it?”
“I don’t know, almost nine? Why?” His lips never left your skin, still working over your neck and shoulder without leaving obvious marks.
“We can’t, we have to go. Dustin’s at Mike’s and I wanna make sure we get back before him. I’ve still gotta make myself decent and figure out what I’m gonna say to him.”
“What we’re gonna say to him,” He corrected. “And can’t you stay indecent a little longer?”
“Wayne’ll be home anytime,” You remind him, “If he’s not already.”
He pouted, “But how often do we get to have great morning sex after a night together like this, baby?”
“Any morning now that I’ll be staying over whenever you want,” You point out.
“Hmm, I s’pose that’s true,” He agreed contently. Stretching out beside you with a loud groan, he pecked your cheek before he got out of bed. Yawning, “I’ll be right back,” he headed for the bathroom.
Rolling over, you buried your face in his pillow and breathed in. Old spice shampoo, weed, and Marlboros filled your nose and it made every muscle in your body relax. Him. You wanted to bottle the scent, soak every pillow and blanket and sweatshirt you owned with it. You’d never have another restless night again. Lifting your head slightly, you left your nose against the fabric but allowed your eyes to flicker around his room.
A bottle of lotion sat on his nightstand, he didn’t seem to bother with tissues though. You weren’t surprised. Handcuffs hung on the wall, also not surprising, but they still made your thighs twitch. There were more band posters than in your room, including a hand-spray-painted one for Corroded Coffin. He had three guitars, his prized possession– his other sweetheart, as well as another black and white electric, and an acoustic painted to say ‘this machine slays dragons’. An amp sat across from the bed and his dressers were strewn with clothes and beer cans. It was easy to imagine him existing in here. Playing guitar in bed in his boxers or planning the party’s next campaign at his desk.
Your eyes snapped to the door when it finally opened again. “Still in bed, huh?” Nodding with a small smile, you watched him rummage through his dresser for today’s band tee. His hand settled on Slayer before he thought of running into your mom, and opted for the much tamer Deep Purple one beneath it. “Well, you should probably put somethin’ else on before I take you home. What you’ve got on might get a little breezy.”
“Bite me,” You yawned, flipping him off as you got up.
“I didn’t think we had time for that,” He replied snarkily. He finished getting dressed as you slipped on your skirt and balled up your fishnets to put in your purse.
When you were both ready– or as ready as you could get for now– you headed for the van. “I’ll make coffee when we get to mine,” You offer. “My mom should be at work, so I’ll make breakfast. Food might help soften the blow.”
“God, you’re acting like we killed his cat or something,” He laughed. “We’re not breaking bad news, babe.”
“It’s still a shock, alright? And Dustin has big feelings, you know that. I just don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable or lied to. Me and him don’t usually keep secrets, so this is a big deal.”
“I can be tactful, alright? But I’ll let you do most of the talking if that makes you feel better, I know you’re worried about him.” His fingers laced through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay though, sweet girl.”
Pulling into your driveway, you let out a heavy breath before you got out and lead him inside. As you got dressed, you tried to practice what you’d say, rambling your thoughts aloud. He left you to your process, only stepping in for you to bounce thoughts off of or to keep you from getting lost in your concerns. You only paused once you made your way into the kitchen. Putting a pot of coffee on, you asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes okay for breakfast? They’re his favorite. I’ll probably make a little of everything else too; eggs, bacon, sausage, there’s fruit in the fridge.”
Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep the words ‘marry me’ from rolling off his lips. “Sounds incredible, baby. Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s okay.” Watching you methodically gather everything you needed from the fridge and cabinets, he figured he’d just get in your way if he tried to lend a hand. While you cooked, you mumbled through your prepared speech again, knowing it would never go so smoothly in actual conversation. Thinking about it more, you just hoped Lucas and Mike didn’t come back with him.
By the time he made it home, leaving his bike in the yard, you had made more than enough food and Eddie had already eaten his. Dustin was talking the second the door was open. “What’re you doing here, Eddie? Something going on with Hellfire?”
“Nice to see you too, Henderson.” He retorted, standing and flicking the bill of your brother’s hat into his eyes. “Your sister made you breakfast. I hear chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite.”
He eyed both of you suspiciously as he started toward the kitchen. "Yeah, what's it to you?" Eddie shared a confused look with you, but decided not to say anything. After he’d made his plate and sat down at the table to dig in, Dustin spoke again with a mouthful of food. “So, what’s with the special breakfast? Why’re you guys being weird?”
“We’re not being weird–”
“You’re alone at the house together,” He pointed out, still shoveling food into his face. “That’s weird.”
“It’s not weird– would you just listen? It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to run something by you, alright?” Eddie could tell you were fumbling, forgetting everything you’d planned to say. His hand itched to reach out for yours on the table, but he knew you wanted to get the words out first. “I’ve been–”
“Seeing Eddie?” Dustin interrupted. When the two of you shared a glance and you opened your mouth to question him, he continued. “Mike and Lucas told me last night.”
“How did they–” Eddie began, but Dustin cut him off.
“Apparently, everybody knew but me! All the guys in the band knew! Steve, Nancy, and Robin knew! How could you leave me out of the loop like this? You know I hate not knowing things! I have to know everything!”
“Dusty, calm down,” You said softly. “I wanted to wait until I actually had something to tell you. He’s your friend, I didn’t want to change the way you look at him just to go on a couple dates and decide it wasn’t gonna work.”
Nose wrinkling, he asked, “So, what? You guys are like– boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?”
You snorted and Eddie couldn’t help the small, smug smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Back of your hand hitting his stomach, you tried not to laugh as you answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Turning back to your brother, you added, “Only if you’re okay with it, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you can’t trust Eddie anymore.”
“It’s kinda weird, but I guess I don’t care as long as you don’t make out and all that gross shit in front of me. And you’d better treat her right or me, Mike, and Lucas are all leaving Hellfire,” He tagged on pointedly.
“You don’t have to worry about that, you have my word.” He looked like he was about to say more, but opted to stay quiet.
“Okay, well, I think I’ve lost my appetite for now.” Dustin stood from the table, “I’m gonna go back to Mike’s and tell them they were right.”
Rolling your eyes, you started to clean up. “Be safe, I love you.”
“Love you, too!” He shouted back just before he yanked the door shut.
As you started rinsing dishes in the sink, Eddie’s hands found your waist. “I think that went well.”
“Hopefully it doesn’t stay awkward for long,” You sighed lightly. “I guess Lucas and Mike did the hard part for us.”
“Guess so,” He drawled in agreement. “So, what now?”
“Now? Hmm…” Drying off your hands, you turned to loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess now we do whatever we want, no more sneaking around.”
“I hope that’s not gonna suck the fun out of it for you.”
“‘Cause watching you Tetris yourself through my window is such a turn-on,” You scoffed.
He gave you a look of mock offendedness. “Good thing I won’t have to do it anymore, since you clearly don’t appreciate the athletic prowess it takes to climb through that window without waking your mom up.”
Halfheartedly rolling your eyes yet again, you let your fingers dip past the neck of his shirt, fingers grazing along the top of his spine. “How about you roll us a joint and then I’ll show you how much I appreciate your ‘athletic prowess’?”
“You drive a hard bargain, babe,” He sighed theatrically. “But you know it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”
“Obviously,” Lacing your fingers through his, you dragged him toward your room. “That’s why I offered.”
As the three boys gathered at Mike’s house again, he asked, “Wait, we were right?”
Lucas stood, pointing at him. “I TOLD YOU, MAN!”
Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”
“I TOLD YOU!”
“GUYS, SHUT THE HELL UP!” Dustin interjected.
Lucas cleared his throat as the two of them settled back into their seats. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“So, you’re really okay with Eddie dating your sister? I mean, it’s not gonna make Hellfire awkward or anything, is it?” Mike questioned.
“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’ll definitely be nasty seeing them all lovey-dovey or whatever, but they’re still just Eddie and my sister. As long as they don’t act different, I won’t act different.” Turning on the TV, Dustin flopped onto the couch next to Mike. “Besides, I think part of me knew they’d hit it off– I’m like a natural matchmaker. They just have too much in common, ya know?”
part one | part two | tmic masterlist
tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trln @cantreadbutcute @kennedy-brooke @navs-bhat @sluggzillaa @whatwedontdointheshadows @saayanaaa @depressedacidtest @unholyyylita @m-chmcl-rmnc @pullhisteeth @vivalasv3gan @a3trogirl @thesagewitchh @djoseph-quinn @darlingdixon
<3
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#too much in common#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie munson x henderson!reader smut#eddie munson x f!reader smut#eddie munson x f!reader#stoner!reader#18+ mdni
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Joel & Clementine | Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind (2004)
#joel barish#clementine kruczynski#kate winslet#jim carrey#movies#cinema#film#indie film#movieedit#cinematography#tv series#series#movie scenes#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind
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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader Valentine's Day scenario
Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, vulgar language, knowledge based on the first four episodes of the 2024 series.
There may be possible triggers in this story.
If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.
You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!
Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor and his little darling!
This is a collaborative piece with @isuckatwritingsobenice with special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing-desk and @riddle-simp for providing criticism and feedback. If you would like to read the one that started it all, I'll leave a link to it here.
As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.
For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on for tonight's broadcast :)
Although he had figured out why you were and what he needed to do to push you in the right direction, Alastor was still annoyed with what he was…feeling towards you.
When his mother died, he had stopped feeling. There was no reason to keep feeling when the only person in his entire world was gone. Is that the reason why he became a serial killer? Who knows. Is she the reason why he keeps smiling, because he always remembered her saying that you never fully dressed without one? Absolutely! Why bother wearing a frown all the time when he could keep everyone on their toes with a smile and a salutations over the radio?
So why is it that when he thinks about you, it is like his mind is torn between annoyance and fondness? Why does he have the urge to simply hide you away from the world and keep you all to himself instead of making your misery even greater for his own amusement? He doesn’t know and if he doesn’t figure out why, he knows he will lose his temper very soon. Charlie had already demolished the second to last wall of his patience on the insistence that everyone in the hotel should participate in a crafting session to celebrate a human holiday. Valentine’s Day, of all things.
He is a gentleman. And a gentleman, as his mother has always taught him, is to never raise his hand against a woman. She did not say anything about Lucifer’s delusional daughter who believes that the people of Hell can be redeemed. Even you, someone who is just as rational and calm as he, believed in her. That a sinner had a chance to go to Heaven when their actions in life are reflected on their afterlife. It’s common sense, really.
So why couldn’t you see that? Even Vagatha was starting to have some doubts too. But she would not dare say what is truly on her mind about this passion project to Charlie’s face yet due to her incredibly strong loyalty towards the princess.
Regardless of his observations of these two ladies, Alastor found himself caught in the enigmatic web of emotions as he observed your seemingly indifferent facade from his favorite chair in the parlor. He was not helping with decorating the hotel. You were though. You stood underneath Charlie, steadying the ladder she stood with gloved hands as she pinned strings of pink and red paper hearts over the hotel’s entryway. Vagatha was nearby, busying herself with other tasks, including asking Husk to please not drink all of the red wine, they are saving it for tonight! Angel was flirting with Husk. Husk shot a rude gesture in return. Niffty was making the hotel spotless again when she already cleaned it a few hours ago. Alastor had no idea where Sir Pentious was and frankly did not care.
When he had decided to help with the hotel, he was just going to watch from the sidelines and let everything run its course. But there was something being formed here. A connection was beginning to make itself known and he did not like that. The Radio Demon comes and goes as he pleases without being tied down to anything or anyone. If this feeling continues to fester inside of him, why he’ll toss himself into the fiery pits just so that he could be his old self again!
“All right, these are all done!” Charlie said happily, pulling away to look at her handiwork with pride before she averted her gaze to you. “You good there, [First Name]? Sorry I had to pull you away from gardening to do this!”
“I don’t mind.” You said. [Eye Color] irises watched as the princess began to climb down, each step squealing creak-creak beneath her stilettos. “What will we do about snacks and dinner? We already have the drinks covered through Husk.” You held out a gloved hand to the princess on the third step from the bottom. Charlie gladly took it, but not before she spun you around, the bone-white skirt billowing slightly to reveal the laced-up boots on your feet.
“Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out! In fact, I’ll make a grocery list for Niffty right now! Then we’ll need to see if we can add anything else. Ooh, maybe something for the staircase? Or the chandelier? This party is going to be so much fun! Can’t you feel the love in the air, [First Name]?!”
You blinked at her. “No.” You carefully distanced yourself away from her. “But I do remember there is something I need to bring inside before I forget about it again. I’ll be right back.”
You bowed your head to them and scurried across the parlor, making quick strides across the parlor and taking a left underneath the intricate railings of the grand staircase. There was a light click, and then there was silence.
The hotel, constructed on the hill, possessed a limited garden space that showcased carefully manicured flora. There was also a greenhouse. Both locations were left unexplored by Alastor because he knew the flora you had carefully tended to, and in his opinion, it was too soon to share his secret just yet. However, he did know that the door under the grand staircase, the centerpiece of the hotel’s architecture, was how you always traveled around.
Each corridor held secrets, inviting exploration and mystery within the confines of the Pride Ring’s overlook. But the door you took was a shortcut to whichever place you desired to go to: the garden or the greenhouse. Fifteen minutes passed, and then the door opened again.
Walking out of the staircase, everyone saw the bright red roses cradled carefully in your gloved hands.
Charlie squealed in delight, racing towards you with wide eyes. Vagatha followed close behind. Angel just looked up from his phone to see what was all the ruckus in faint interest.
“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh! You did it, [First Name]! You really grew something!!” Charlie all but shouted, her excited cries bouncing across the vaulted ceilings. Vagatha leaned forward, a small smile stretching across her face. “Great job.”
“It was a little tricky, but I was finally able to figure out the proper fertilizing formula, including a place where they can get just enough sunshine but not so much that the petals would not be burned. An inch of water each week. Too much water and I might actually kill the roots.” You explained. “Since the weather doesn’t change much down here except for the occasional acid rain, these actually had time to grow.” You then took one flower, holding out to Vaggie. “For you.” You said, then placing another one in Charlie’s hands. “And you. If you’d like to make them last for a little longer, put them in a vase with sugar water.”
Charlie beamed. “Thank you!”
“Thanks.” Vagatha said.
You inclined your head, then crossed the room and proceeded to pass around your hard earned flowers to everyone. You kneeled down to Niffty’s height, tucking one behind her ear before standing up. She jumped up and down in happiness, causing the flower to fall but she caught it, holding it as if it’s the most precious treasure she had ever been given. She promised to give you something in return, to which you politely declined.
You walked over to the bar and handed a rose to Husk. He stared at the flower, then back at you before he put down the bottle he had been drinking from on the counter, plucking it from your hand. “Thanks kid.” He muttered, laying it next to him and then taking another swing of his booze. Angel immediately slid into one of the booths, grinning toothily at you.
“Got any for me, toots?”
You held out a rose to him. He made a flirty joke and promptly shoved it in his chest. “So~? How do I look?” He crooned, batting his eyes at you as he pushed up his chest floof right in front of your face. Honestly, when will this whore learn this is not how someone speaks to a lady?
Your countenance held a fleeting perplexity at his vulgar words and actions, your brow furrowing for a moment before your stoic expression returned…though Alastor could see…an inquisitive expression in your eyes. You were thinking about something. What he did not know and he was quite curious to see what you do next.
So he sat in silence and watched.
He watched you stretch your hand outwards, carefully extracting the rose from Angel’s person. Angel opened his mouth, no doubt ready to complain when he froze midway as you artfully placed it on the right side of his head. You withdrew, casting a scrutinizing gaze upon him before nodding in approval.
“Flowers adorning your hair enhance your allure far beyond the glimmer of rainbow glitter or imitation jewels.” You said. For the first time since he arrived at the hotel, the famous pornstar Angel Dust was rendered completely speechless. The only thing he could stutter was a ‘thanks’, a faint red hue staining his pale face.
The gradual decay of the rose in your hand did not escape Alastor’s notice and he was delighted. A manifestation of the latent powers he possessed, to cause living things within a certain distance to wither. He smirked, appreciating the subtle dance of his influence. You spun around, meeting his gaze. “Permission to approach, sir?”
Husk gagged. Vaggie groaned. He laughed.
“Of course you can~!” He said. Oh, you were trying so hard to respect his personal space, how adorable! Goodness, hadn’t you caught on that he only touches people that he is interested in? Why, he’s touched Charlie’s shoulders so many times that he is shocked that Vagatha hasn’t tried to stab him out of jealousy!
So you approached him. But when you held out his rose to him, it was already dead.
You were shocked but you did not need to say anything; your face, and your eyes, told him everything. He was pleased and amused all at the same time. What would you do next? He thought. You looked down at the rose, then back at him. Carefully placing the other rose, the one that wasn’t completely decayed yet, on the coffee table. Your gloved fingers coiled around the stem of his rose and deftly snapped it in half. You took another step, and leaned forward to pin it to the left side of his coat.
You took a step back. You looked at the flower, then back at him. “It still suits you.” You said. “Although it is dead, a decayed rose suits you just as much as a fresh one.”
Alastor felt his withered heart pulse under his skin for the briefest moment until it went still again. He knows he is a dapper of a gentleman, someone who takes pride in his appearance and knows how to use it to his advantage. But hearing your compliment made him preen in his seat. Almost. He had a reputation to uphold.
“Coming from you my dear, that is the highest praise I had never believed would be uttered from your lips~!” He said, abruptly standing up from his chair and staring down at you with a grin. “Now that I’m all spiffed up, it’s your turn~!”
You tilted your head to the side. “I don’t understand.” You said with an expressionless face.
“I just remembered that I have an errand to run in our dear city, and I am in need of your skill sets~!” He was rambling. He knew it and it was pissing him off because the Radio Demon does not stutter or act flustered around anyone. He snapped his fingers, feeling the familiar thrum of his magic as it left his body, evaporating into a plume of red mist that covered your body before it disappeared as quickly it had come. Gone was the same outfit you wore every day, and in its place was an outfit much more suited for any self-respecting woman; a light pink sequined flapper dress, a rope of pearls around your neck with a nice little cloche hat to top it off. And he mustn’t forget the pair of white heels on your feet!
Yet just as the applause track echoed across the parlor, Alastor noticed that you looked away from him. You were uncrossing and crossing your adamantine skeletal arms, the gloved hands being the remaining piece from exposing the scars of war entirely to curious eyes.
Oh. Oh. You were even quivering? Such a shame.
Trying his best to ignore the disappointment gnawing at his bones, Alastor sighed and snapped his fingers again, dispelling the enchantment on you and simultaneously replacing the outfit with something….much more suited to your style, but matching him in every sense of the word. A white ruffled white blouse poking out from the collar of a red waistcoat, a matching ruffled skirt that covered your legs and stretched to your ankles, where the black-heeled stilettos peeked out from. The white gloves were dyed to onyx, and the cute hat was replaced with one that had a wider brim with a black rose stitched on the side. In your hands was a red parasol. But his favorite, personal touch was the ruby brooch shaped like a stag, like him.
Replacing the emerald one you wore every day, supposedly in memory of Major Gilbert. The man whom you claimed did not love him romantically since you cannot love. That tad-bit he had overheard when you shared one thing about yourself in the group exercise.
But more importantly, you no longer seemed anxious. In fact, you were back to your normal, monotone self~! How wonderful and annoying!
Alastor grinned in approval, twirling his microphone expertly between his fingers before rapping the end of it against the floor with a loud thump. “Now then, shall we be off, my dear~?” He said, extending his arm for you to take. You looked at him, then back at Vagatha before you stepped towards him, very cautiously placing your gloved hand in the crook of his arm. It took a lot of self-control to not pull away in disgust from the contact, but he held onto his composure because he is a gentleman not a brute.
“Now then, let us be off~!” He bellowed.
“You’re supposed to actually be helping us around the hotel, not fucking off, you prick!” Vagatha yelled, her lovely silver hair standing on end as she swore in Spanish. Charlie was trying to calm her darling down with a sheepish smile, wishing the two of you a good time and don’t worry about a thing. Alastor just grinned and quickly led them out of the hotel, down the steep hill and into the city.
Though as soon the two of you were parading through the streets, you immediately pulled away from him and stood exactly five feet behind him. He could not help but feel amused by your antics, nor the relief of actually having his personal space back even when he had offered his arm for you to take, not the other way around. You knew better than to initiate contact. Although unexpected joy hummed in his veins, this…genuine connection, this bond, began to chip away around the edges of his collected facade. And as the two of you continued your walk through the Pentagram at a steady pace, there was also this irritable and irresistible annoyance starting to bloom in the back of his head and quite frankly it was beginning to give him a headache. Why is he feeling so many things at once? Can’t feelings have an arranged timetable so he doesn’t lose his reputation as a fearsome overlord?
Why are feelings…so damn complicated? Why?
Not wanting to sink any further between the allure of your company and his own resistance to vulnerability, Alastor began to hum a little tune to distract himself. He did not want to think. He refuses to fall even further than he already has. He turned his head slightly, gazing at you from his peripheral vision. You were looking around curiously, watching sinners live their sinful lives and probably wondering why you had earned the same damnation as they did. At least that was what he initially thought until he saw your eyes darting from the street corners, the buildings…ah. The cameras.
You were worried about Vox seeing him after he had put the little pest in his place last week? Oh, you were quite a little darling, weren’t you?
“There’s no need to be concerned about those tiny picture boxes, my dear!” He exclaimed suddenly. “This face was made for radio, the proper medium to express oneself!”
“...You’re certain?”
“Of course! Now it should be around here…ah-ha! Here we are! Follow me or you might get swept up by another gentleman!” Alastor joked as he quickened his pace towards a mortar-and brick building sandwiched between two other more modern buildings on the other side of the street. The restaurant, embraced by mortar and brick, stood between modern edifices. Its interior exuded a warm ambiance, with dim lighting casting a subtle glow on polished wooden tables. The booths were nestled in the back, providing a private setting for the two of you. The menu possessed an array of culinary delights, promised a refined venison experience.
Rosie had recommended this place to him a while back, but never got around to it after he left for his sabbatical seven years ago. You did not keep him waiting, matching your stride with his and the host’s.
Despite just how much the host trembled in fear at the sight of him, handing out the menus and stuttering the name of their server, the host couldn’t stop staring at you with a dazzled, licentious look in his eyes. Alastor had to hold back the urge to make the server part of his menu. Or maybe he shouldn’t? Perhaps this youngster needed a reminder just who he is?
“…Alastor? Alastor? Sir?”
Your voice called out to him, the barest hint of concern laced with curiosity before he shook himself out of his thoughts. “Yes, my dear?” He asked.
“Are we doing a reconnaissance mission?”
The static around him screeched to a halt, and he stared at you with an incredulous expression.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You had said that you needed my skill sets on this outing,” You said, blinking at him, folding your gloved hands together on the sleek wood table. “My specialties from serving in the war include that as well as hand-to-hand combat and weapon handling. Is….this about new territories that are up for the taking? Why was the extermination date moved up to six months? Or this mission on a need-to-know basis?”
…He knew you were oblivious to Angel’s flirtatious remarks and modern slang, but he did not think that it would extend that you did not know that when a gentleman takes a beautiful lady for a night around the town, it means he has the intention of courting. What sort of life had you lived before coming down here? More importantly, how does he explain without looking like a complete fool?
The Radio Demon thought for a long moment before a proverbial lightbulb went off inside his mind. Yes, he thought delightfully. That will do. Mirroring your position - spine straight, bony fingers interlaced, and placed neatly on the table, maintaining eye contact. He spoke.
“Considering your skills-set, I wanted to see if you are truly as talented as you claim to be~! And there is no better way to evaluate a person’s worth than through a simple test. A game, if you will!” He leaned forward, pushing a wave of his powers throughout his body, releasing it from the bottom of his shoes and scattering throughout the establishment. Well, his friends at least. Now for the rules.
“My shadows are somewhere in this restaurant. Some are easy to see at first glance, some are not~! Find all six of them, and you get a prize! If you guess incorrectly, however, then you must truthfully answer a question I will ask. The time limit will be until we leave, and you must maintain eye contact with me at all times! Since this mission is….a personal one of mine, you must be able to blend with the crowd and not draw attention to yourself, to us, or this mission will be compromised. Any questions?” You shook your head.
“Wonderful~!” He bellowed in delight
And then the game began.
Between interruptions with their server and mild conversation, you whispered where each shadow as you looked at the second side of the menu, unable to decide what to try. He obviously recommended the venison, and he would either say you found a shadow or guessed incorrectly. By the time you had informed the server of your entrees, you found three out of six. You got two tries wrong. Alastor got two questions out of you.
“What was your life like before coming down here, my dear?” He asked.
“I served in The Great War as a soldier of the Leidenschaftlich Army. My commanding officer was Major Gilbert Bougainvillea.” You answered. “When I was relieved from my duties, I worked at a postal company until my death.”
“And do you know what it means when a gentleman asks a young lady to join him for an outing?”
You opened your mouth, and then closed it, confusion flitting across your face for the briefest moment until you answered him. “I do not.” You said slowly. “From my experience in the barracks, the men would escort the young ladies that have caught their interest to the pub or somewhere else…and they would not come back until past curfew. The major would lecture them if he caught them. He told me…it was a sex thing. But I was too young to understand what he meant back then.”
Alastor almost choked on his venison at your words, his equilibrium thrown off for a moment before he quickly recovered, swallowing the delicious morsel and maintaining his dignity by wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I…see.” He said slowly. “And you are aware that this is not that kind of courting, correct?”
“Yes.” You answered. “Because you do not like anything related to sex, which is perfectly fine.”
“But do you know that when a gentleman courts a young lady without…that in mind, it is because he has a romantic interest in her?” He asked, staring at you straight in the eye. “And he would like to get to know a little more in a setting that does not include any third parties?” There. He thought as he saw your eyes widen just a fraction. Understanding. You were catching onto his intentions! Finally, another emotion! You have shown him another expression besides indifference and confusion! Good job! Now will these blasted feelings finally go away? Out of sight, out of mind as they say!
Then the look on your face melted away, becoming a mask of stoicism as you answered him softly.
“I appreciate the sentiment….but I am afraid that I am no longer capable of feeling emotions, at least…what it truly means to love someone. It can come in many forms and is expressed differently with each person. The romantic sense…it isn’t meant for me. And I’ve come to terms with that when I was alive, and when I came here. I am grateful for what I already have.”
In the back of his mind, Alastor had actually thought he would get another reaction out of you, perhaps seeing your cheeks turn red and hear your heart thumping against your rib cage. But at the cost of hearing someone actually reject his advances?
That does not seem quite fair, does it? He chuckled darkly in amusement.
“Hm~. You say that you are no longer capable of expressing yourself beyond a grim facade? I beg to differ, my dear. I have seen you show discomfort, anxiety, and understanding all within a single day of being in my company. I can guarantee that’s the most I have ever seen of you since you came to the hotel.” He craned his head to one side, still smiling. “But fear not, I wholeheartedly welcome a challenge.”
With that being said, he graciously decided to extend the little game with the progression of their meal, right up to when the waiter brought them your desserts. There were still three shadows to find, and he continued his line of questioning, observing your reactions and demeanor as you answered him.
Alastor will not lie and say that your rejection of courtship did not bruise his pride. He was used to being feared and worshiped in a single breath. Being liked was something else entirely, yet being disliked? Quite rare, with the exception of Vox and the other Vs.
“You can certainly keep me on my toes, darling.” He said playfully as he stood up from his seat, walking to your side and offering his hand. You stared at him owlishly before placing your hand in his gloved one.
“My mind cannot change that easily I’m afraid, Alastor. You are wasting your time.” You said.
“We shall see, my dear. Perhaps you just need a little more…persuasion.” He replied, before delivering the final question to you, a personal one: how many had you killed when you were a soldier? You replied. I cannot remember anymore.
He was quite stunned at your answer…but he was satisfied, and that was all that mattered. He knew more about you than Charlie probably could ever pull out of you during a group exercise. No one else. Not Husk, Not Niffty, and certainly not Angel Dust nor Sir Pentious. And that gave him an advantage over anyone else who would be so bold as to approach you with a romantic intention.
“I see.” He hummed. “Come, come, you’ve passed the test~! And I did promise a prize to the winner~!”
Instead of the traditional flowers, chocolates, or stuffed animals that were given to a lover on this atrocious holiday, Alastor had purchased new ink ribbons for your Remington typewriter and another pair of leather gloves. Perhaps he will allow you to keep the outfit he dressed you up in. You did wear the same thing every day. It was better than trusting Angel Dust with upgrading your wardrobe.
You thanked him, the barest stretch of a genuine smile stretched across your face as you cradled the bag that held your gifts before it disappeared as quickly as it came, and you focused on the road ahead. Yet to him, the fearsome Radio Demon…it was such a smile that lasted long enough to commit it to his memory, and reinvigorate his desire to pursue you.
After all, no one else in this cesspool is worthy to court the soldier maiden of the Hazbin Hotel except for him…
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#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#yandere alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#forbidden-sunlight#yandere x reader#yandere#ns.fw#yandere male#fem!reader#violet evergarden!reader#character!reader#cw obsessive behavior#cw obsessive love#tw obsessive behavior#tw obsessive love#valentine's day 2024#valentine's day fic
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she loved me, yes, that I'm still loving her.
1. Mahmoud Darwish // 2. The Separation, Edvard Munch // 3. Holding On To Heartache, Louis Tomlinson // 4.+5. The Banshees Of Inisherin, Martin McDonagh // 6. The Voice I Owe to You (#63), Pedro Salinas // 7. Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind, Michel Gondry // 8. Poem for a Blue Page, Natasha Rao // 9. Feeling Your Absence, Mathilde Roussel-Giraudy // 10. White Ferrari, Frank Ocean // 11.+12. Silueta Series, Ana Mendieta // 13. There Is No Absolution For The Fallen, Only Dying, P.D.
#mahmoud darwish#louis tomlinson#the banshees of inisherin#edvard munch#eternal sunshine of the spotless mind#web weaving#poetry#art#words#films#movies#cinema#heartbreak#i still love you and no one is surprised#mystuff#m#parallels#comparisons
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