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iluvmattsbeard · 3 days

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older (m.s)

master list

student! matt sturniolo x professor! reader

warnings: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing

preview: 18 year old student Matt is a freshman in college. you are his professor who is 28 years old. Matt is a phenomenal student. but during lectures, he can’t help but check out his professor, fantasizing about you. you tell him it’s unprofessional for you to pay more attention to him than any other student. you also tells him you're too old for him which, he tries to prove to you you're wrong.

*not proof read*

a/n: i’m doing a collab with @mwahsturns ! go check out her version of Matt being the professor, click here ,this is my version of the reader being professor! i’m so glad I had the opportunity of working with her. she is lovely and absolutely amazing overall. i hope to do this again. if anyone would also like to collab with me in the future, let me know! - L 🤍

even though Matt was pursuing his YouTube career with his brothers, Matt wanted to do something on his own. in videos, he is known to spread light on mental health and anxiety. as he did some research, he found a community college that fit his standards. he wanted to major in psychology and hopefully see where it takes him. his brothers supported his decision and he couldn't be anymore excited. he enrolled himself and got in immediately. today was his first day and he was currently packing his back pack. "are you sure you'll be able to handle all of this?" his brother Nick asks. Matt was in the middle of shoving his books in his bag, "yes Nick. i'll be okay. i'm just going to see if this is right for me. if it's not, then i'll stick to YouTube." he responds while zipping up the bag in front of him.

"okay I was just making sure." Nick says getting up from the bar stool in the kitchen. "alright, i'm all set. i'll see you guys later." Matt says putting on the back pack and picking up his car keys. Chris and Nick both say good bye to him and he walks out, heading to his car. as soon as he put the address in his navigation, he noticed the estimated arrival time and muttered under his breath, "fuck." it was not going to be a good first impression he thought. when he finally got on campus, he headed straight to his class. he got to the door and opened it, walking inside to see all the students turn and look at him. "you're late." he hears a woman say. he turns to look at you. you had your back facing towards the class as you wrote something on the whiteboard.

you turn around and he locks eyes with yours. "what's your name?" you ask walking over to your desk. "Matthew." he says eyeing you. "okay Matthew, you may take a seat. I'll let it slide since it's your first day." you respond looking up from your computer to catch his stare. Matt nods and walks to an empty seat. he didn't expect his professor to look the way you did. he looked at the board to see your name. "miss L/n..." he whispers to himself. Matt kept his eyes on you as you spoke, "Matthew, you can ask the person next to you to copy their notes that I previously had up. go over it and try to catch up okay?" Matt nods and does as you say. as he took notes, he couldn't help but get distracted by the professor. your white button up shirt with your hair both placed in front of your shoulders, your long black pencil skirt, stockings, and black heels. he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

as time went by, Matt was always on top of his work. his focus was always there in lectures. he didn't really find the subject of the class all that interesting but, his professor was all he cared about. he wanted to stand out and to do so, he needed to focus on what you were teaching about so he could stay on top. Matt was never good in school but, this was different. after one of the lectures, he decided to stick around as other students left. "is there something you need Matthew?" you ask looking up at him. he was still sat in his seat as he clears his throat, "i'm having a little trouble accessing some material at home." he says lying. "let me take a look." you suggest to him. he gets up and walks over to you with his laptop. "you can call me Matt by the way." he adds on as he places the laptop in front of you. you smile a bit, "good to know." you respond and looks at his screen.

you began to open up the material that he claimed wasn't working. you look at him, "are you sure it wasn't working at home?" you ask. "it wasn't last night. I guess you have the magic touch." he says causing you to laugh, "I guess so. anything else you need help with?" you ask. he shakes his head, "not that I know of." he says taking his laptop off the desk. he starts to walk away but you call out to him, "wait Matt." he turns around and looks at you, "yes?" he asks. you stand up from your chair and smile, "I just want to tell you i'm highly impressed by your work. every single assignment you turn in, is beyond what I ask for." you complimented him. Matt grins before speaking, "I am being taught well." you laugh, "thank you. that just means i'm doing my job." you say clasping your hands together in front of you.

as more lectures go by, he couldn't help but start to fantasize about you. he started to imagine how he would look impressing you with something else he's good at beyond his assignments. the way you spoke, he could just imagine the way you would whisper in his ear. Matt would eye your buttoned shirt and imagine how he would undo it. his thoughts were soon interrupted by the professor clearing your throat, "Matt?" you call out. he gulps and looks up at your eyes instead of your blouse, "make sure you're paying attention." you say tapping on his desk before walking away. after class, you ask him to stick around. "are you okay?" you question him. he was sat across from you, "yes i'm fine. why?" he asks. you laugh a bit, "I could tell your mind was wondering off somewhere else. I just wanted to know if something was bothering you." you say as he stares at you. "oh yeah, i'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to." he responds.

"that's okay, just let me know what's on your mind next time." she suggests. Matt nods and it stays quiet for a bit. "how'd you get into teaching?" he asks breaking the silence. "it's a long story." you say laughing a bit. he has this blank face as he speaks, "I have time." your smile fades a bit as you let out a little breath, "well, it wasn't my first choice. I wanted to pursue in something more creative but to my parents it was more of a dream than a reality. I decided to get into education and well here I am." you continued to ramble but he catches you off guard with his next question, "what's your name?" you look at him, "that's a sudden question. my name is Y/n but don't get use to that." you say. "how old are you, Y/n?" he asks curiously and boldly. "none of your business." you respond as he grins, "i'm just trying to get to know you." you hesitate but eventually tell him, "i'm 28." you mutter out.

"are you married?" he asks making your eyes widen a bit, "no but, that's a very personal question. this is starting to get inappropriate." you say getting up from your chair. Matt gets up as well, "it's inappropriate to try to get to know you?" he asks. you turn to look at him, "it's inappropriate because i'm your teacher. i'm not somebody you need to know better." you respond. he puts on his back pack and smiles, "only innocent." he says walking out the classroom leaving you standing there alone.

a few days later, you were at your desk grading assignments as you notice Matt's work getting sloppy. you ask him to stay after class and he does so. it was all apart of his plan. "Matt, your recent assignments have been painfully hard to grade. you were doing good not too long ago, why are you being lazy with your work?" you ask in a serious tone. "i'm not quite sure. why don't you want me to get to know you?" he asks catching you off guard. "Matthew, we're talking about your work here." you say wanting to stick to the serious conversation. "are you scared Y/n?" he asks making you fix your posture, "it's miss L/n to you." you remind him. "answer my question. are you scared you might enjoy talking to me?" he says. "it's inappropriate." you say repeating yourself from last time. "is it inappropriate to ask what you like to drink?" he asks tilting his head a bit with a small smile.

"mainly iced coffee." you answer hoping to move on from the conversation, "now can we talk about your work?" you ask hoping he would cooperate but, he gets up and puts on his back pack, "i'll fix it." he says before walking out leaving you once again, in shock. you sat there wondering why he was acting the way he was.

the next day, you had your back facing the class as you wrote a check list on the board. as soon as you turned around, you do a double take of the iced coffee that was placed on your desk. you look up from it, eyeing Matt as he just grins and looks away to unzip his bag. unbelievable you thought. after the lecture, you ask him stick around as everyone else leaves. "Matt, don't start this." you say sternly. "what? I can't get you coffee for being a good teacher?" he says with a sly smile. you sigh, "that's nice of you but I know what you're doing." you say with your arms crossed. "what am I doing?" he asks not taking his eyes off of you. "you're trying to flatter me." you mutter out. he laughs and puts on his back pack. he looks at you up and down and greets you good bye as he walks out. "what are you up to..." you whisper to yourself.

when Matt arrived home, he began to do his assignments. "how has school been?" Chris asks before taking a sip of his Pepsi. Matt's eyes stayed on his computer, "not much to talk about." he says. Chris rolls his eyes a bit, "nice talking to you." he says. "there is this girl." Matt lets out. "who?" Chris asks now very interested. Matt looks at him, "none of your business." he laughs to himself as he remembers you telling him that. "then why bring it up?" Chris says with a blank face. Matt just laughs again and shakes his head.

the next few days, you start to notice Matt's work going back to being astounding. how is that possible? how did he do it so quickly? Matt continued to get you iced coffee every day. other students were starting to notice. as you sat there, you continue to look at Matt's work and you started to put the pieces together. the coffee, the inappropriate behavior, and he was purposely being sloppy before. you shut your computer as you look at him already staring at you. you felt a sort of shiver go down your spine as this look was different. his eyes were captivating in a way that made you feel disappointed in yourself for even thinking that. you look away and begin your lecture. after, you ask Matt to stick around once more.

"were you being sloppy on purpose?" you ask standing in front of his desk. "maybe." he responds with the same sly smile like always. you let out a sigh, "Matt, why are you doing this?" you ask. "doing what?" he asks trying to be innocent. you turn around and pick up the iced coffee on your desk, "the coffee every day, you wanting to get to know me, asking personal questions, and now I realize you were purposely trying to stay after class." you let out making him lean back in his seat. "and the question you asked the other day. if I was scared that i'll enjoy talking to you? seriously?" you add on.

he looks down and shakes his head with a smile. "what is so funny?" you question with your arms crossed. he looks back up at you, "do you really want to know?" he says. "yes I do." you respond waiting for him to explain. he sits up a bit as he places his arms on the desk, "I think about you constantly." he pauses for a bit, "do you think I wanted to fantasize about my professor?" he asks. you uncross your arms and gulp, "no one asked you to." you say. he laughs a bit, "yeah well I do. you make it hard for me to focus." he says making you look away, "then maybe you should transfer into a different class Matt." you suggest.

"are you sure you want that?" he says making you look at him. it stays quiet for bit as you both locked eyes. you look away quickly and turn around, "I can't do this." you say walking up to your desk. Matt gets up and walks behind you. you stop in front of your desk, placing your hands onto it. Matt gets closer behind you as he presses up against you slightly. you look ahead of you as you felt his presence. Matt moves your hair away by tucking it behind your ear as he gets closer to your ear. you gulp as you stand still, "are you sure you want me gone from your class Miss L/n?" he whispers in your ear. you felt a shiver roll down your spine, "i'm too old for you Matt." you whisper still looking ahead of you. "I'm of age you know." he lets out. "i'm still 10 years older than you..." you reply but he just continues, "just because I'm young, doesn't mean I don't know how to handle you." you let out breath as he starts to run his hands on your waist, down to your hips.

"i'm your professor Matt..." you whisper. he smirks, "I know. but I can also teach you things." he says turning you around. he steps closer as you lean a bit against the desk, "like what?" you ask looking into his eyes. he picks you up by your waist as he places you on the desk. he was now standing in between your legs as he looks down at you, "I can teach you what it's like to feel good." he whispers. you gulp without breaking eye contact, "Matt..." you whisper back. he places his hands on your face as he pulls you in slowly, closer to his face. your lips were nearly touching, "tell me, do you want that?" he asks. you were filled with mixed emotions. the way you two were, if someone walked in, it would've been obvious what's about to happen. Matt rubs your cheek softly, "use your words." he says in a low tone. his words became more demanding as his eyes grew dark. "teach me then..." you whisper out. he immediately presses his hungry lips onto yours as he kept his hands on your face. your hands were placed on the desk as you leaned into the kiss.

you knew this was wrong but, it felt so right. Matt moves his hands down to your thighs as he places a good grip on them. he pulls you closer, making his grown erection touch your core. you moan out quietly from the sudden action as he then starts to unbutton your shirt slowly as he continues to kiss you with the same eagerness. you buck your hips a bit against his clothed cock as he finally got your shirt to come undone. he then pulls it open, moving it behind your shoulders. now you were mostly revealed at top as your blouse was low on your elbows.

he moves his lips to your neck as he places wet kisses, he begins to suck your skin as he finds your sweet spot, causing you to throw your head back a bit as your eyes went shut. Matt then moves away and looks down at your skirt. he pulls it up slowly, revealing your black lace panties. he begins to kneel down as he pulls them down. you look down at him as he makes eye contact with your wetness. "already so wet for me." he says before moving his head closer in between your legs. he spreads your legs apart slightly as he started to work his way to lick your folds.

your breathing started to go uneven as you let out a breath. he began to tongue the inside of your entrance as you kept your eyes on him. you ran your hand through his hair as you moan quietly. you don't remember the last time someone pleased you. he starts to run his tongue up and down your entrance as your eyebrows furrowed, making your mouth open slightly. the mixture of the wetness of his tongue and your natural wetness was driving you crazy. his tongue worked like magic. he then began to flick his tongue onto your clit as he stuck two digits into your core. you moan from the stimulation as your thighs started to close in. Matt looks up at you as he watches your face change from the way he was moving. his fingers started to go in and out of you as he then started to swirl his tongue around your throbbing clit.

you grip his hair even more as you kept eye contact with him. he was loving the view he had. the way your mouth kept letting out beautiful noises, he knew he was living up to his words. you buck your hips, wanting more from him. he removes his fingers from inside of you and pulls away. he stands back up and licks his lips. "you seemed to enjoy that." he says. "you're looking like you don't mind anymore miss L/n." he lets out as he starts to unbutton his pants. you look at his crotch as he pulls down his pants with his boxers. you felt yourself in between your legs ache. you needed him badly. he strokes his cock as he makes you look at him in the eyes, "do you still think you're too old for me?" he asks, "look how hard you made me." he adds on.

he then grabs you under your thighs, pulling you closer to him as he rubs his tip at your entrance. "M-Matt..." you whine out. "if only you could look at yourself right now. not so inappropriate now huh?" he says with a grin. he then pushes himself into you as you throw your head back from the way he began to stretch you out, "fuck." Matt moans out lowly. you moan at the way he started to thrust slowly. you didn't know if you could take all of him but, he made sure you did. he starts to thrust harder into you as he pushes himself deeper into you. you wrap your legs around him as you pull him into a kiss. he kisses back as he now starts to pound into you. this made you moan in between kisses. your one hand rested around his neck as the other gripped behind his hair.

"keep it down." he says while going back to kiss you, muffling your moans. you shut your eyes as you melt under him. he loved the way he was stuffing you right now. he was finally fulfilling his imagination. you started to push against his thrusts as he gripped your thighs. his thrusts were deep, making your eyes fog up. you didn't know it was possible to feel this good. especially, from your student. he pulls away from the kiss, biting your lip softly. he pushes you down onto the desk, causing some stuff to fall off. he puts your legs together as he continues to thrust at a fast pace. you cover your mouth as you moan into your hands. the position he had you in hurt so good. "fuck i'm going to cum." he groans. "m-me too." you moan out. he spreads your legs and places his thumb on your clit as he started to rub in circles. you were a moaning mess as you gripped onto the edge of the desk.

Matt then releases in you after one last hard thrust. you both cum at the same time. he thrusts out his high as he pulls out of you slowly, watching his cum drip out of you. he grins feeling accomplished. you sat up on the desk as you caught up with your breathing. Matt pulls up his boxers and pants, buttoning it back up. he grabs his back pack and puts it on. he looks at you still on the desk as he smiles, "i'll keep this a secret." he says before walking out.

a/n: turned myself on 💀 LIKES, COMMENTS, REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! - L 🤍

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witchywcmans · 3 days

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PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious.

You were woken up – hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly.

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?”

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.”

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced.

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor. “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment. Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface.

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface.

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit.

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake.

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?”

#my fics #fic: please eat #laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios x reader #laios touden x reader smut #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #one shot: please eat

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seobsroot · 2 days

Text

GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF THOSE BOOKS

summary: lee heeseung loves to annoy you while you do your work, it all goes south when you have to tutor him

contains: nerd x secretly smart guy who acts stupid just to get close to them, gn reader

you opened your textbook and got out your notebook and got ready to start to answer the questions. you heard the chair beside you move back and you already knew who it was. “y/nnnn heyyyy.” he said in a sing-song voice and you rolled your eyes. “hey heeseung.” you spat and he frowned.

“don’t be like that y/n. what are you working on?” he peered at you and you looked up from the limitless amount of words on the page. “the book questions. what you also should be working on.”

you’re probably wondering why you’re being so mean to him, it’s only because he doesn’t know how to leave you alone. unlike some people, you cared about your grades and getting your work done. “oh really? when is it due?” he asked and you huffed. “in 3 days.” he nodded and looked at your page. “how much do you have left?” you held up 3 fingers to indicate 3 more questions.

“wait how many did we have to do?” is his serious. this was assigned last week and he’s had all the time in the world. “20.” you replied and he nodded. you knew he was about to say something else and you shook your head, “no more questions.” he frowned and pulled out his phone when the teacher came up to him.

“heeseung. you’re failing this class.” he acted shocked, but he knew this was gonna happen. ever since he started noticing you, he stopped doing his work. he knew you were the top student in the class and he knew if he could fail at one point, he could finesse a tutoring session. “y/n. i hate to do this to you with your busy schedule, but do you think you could tutor him?” you sighed and nodded.

heeseung was jumping with joy on the inside at your agreement. you set up for the session to be thursday at 3:30. he was ecstatic waiting for the day. when the day rolled around he swore he raced in his car to your house. he had to act all nonchalant when he walked up to your door. he took a deep breath and knocked. “one second!” you shouted and soon showed up.

when you opened the door and he was shocked at what he saw. he was so used to seeing you all dressed up everyday at school, no wrinkles in your clothes. to see you in an oversized tee shirt and some basketball shorts. he still thought you looked beautiful and he walked inside.

“do you want any water or something?” he trailed behind you and said a quiet no. you ended up in your dining room. he looked around to see baby pictures, family pictures, and other things. he smiled at you in one of the pictures of you on the beach under the sand. “hey. let’s get out your stuff yeah?” you snapped him out of his thoughts and he nodded.

he pulled out his science book and go to work. he secretly already knew how to do this, but having you teach him how to do it made it all the better. halfway through, he honestly just stopped listening to you. he started staring at you and you stopped talking. “are you listening to me?” you tapped him and he shook his head.

“what’s the point of being here if you’re not gonna listen?” you shook your head in disappointment and he lightly touched your face. “can i kiss you?” he asked and you stared at him and slowly nodded. he was crashing his lips against yours. his lips were so soft and delicate. you deepened it more by putting both of your hands on his cheeks. his cheeks started to flush and you felt them.

you let off of him and he was still blushing. “that was nice” he said breathless. “you never needed help in the first place did you?” he shook his head no. “i actually know how to do all this stuff already. i just wanted to get you to notice me.” he admitted and you laughed. you leaned in to kiss him again. “well lee heeseung, you could of just said that.”

this might be my longest thing i’ve wrote

#fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #imagines #scenarios #heeseung fluff #heeseung x reader #heeseung #heesung enhypen #lee heesung x reader

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starless-nightz · 18 hours

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Arlecchino with a lioness! wife who is overprotective of every single child in the House of the Hearth

Arlecchino with a lioness! wife who can literally bite off her arm but Arlecchino wouldnt mind it

Arlecchino with a lioness! wife who when they had their first child, Arlecchino had to stop herself from approching you so she doesnt get killed by you

Arlecchino who is glad that your child is born with her hair color and your eye color alongside cute fluffy ears and tail

Arlecchino who loves to play with your child, she even puts her pride on the side to teach them how to roar

Overprotective! Arlecchino ready to die for your fluffy lion child, and she is ready to put traitors who try and hurt you into a forever nap time

Arlecchino who proudly shows off her fluff ball of a baby to every one of her work partners and the other harbingers, even the Tsaritsas and miss Furina

Arlecchino and her lioness! wife who only trust Lynette to take care of their child while they are away

........

Traveler: "What you got there?"

Lynette holding Arlecchinos and yours child in her arms while drinking tea: "Tea."

........

Baby: [does absolutely anything]

Arlecchino: You are my pride and joy.

........

[Arlecchino and lioness! reader a week after reader gave birth]

Arlecchino: My love, please get down from the roof....

Lioness! reader holding their baby: [hisses]

........

Their child:

#lioness wife au #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #lynette #lynette x reader #lingyang

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tsimvkas · 3 days

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show me how — mason mount.

A/N: ik it’s game night but im fucking ANXIOUS and when i finish something i just need to post it!! elisa asked for this one so thanks or complaints are on her 🙇🏻‍♀️

word count: 4.8k | masterlist

content: innocent!reader losing her virginity with mase that’s it thanks

Since you met Mason, you had always find it hard how he was so open about sex. How it was such a natural thing for him.

You understand that being a boy gave him this privilege, and that your lack of experience made you naturally more shy about it. You still can’t believe Mason Mount was your first.

It hadn’t been easy admitting to him on one of your dates before you slept together, but he was gentle about it, actually letting you lead every make out session and only going as far as you would let him.

And it took you a long time to let him go actually far. Not that you didn’t want to sleep with him — you were dying to be properly touched by Mason.

But he’s Mason. A footballer who slept with countless girls, all of them more experienced than you. Even though he was really sweet about it and telling you he’d teach you everything when you were ready, you still felt insecure.

This only changed on a soft and cosy night six months after you started dating… five weeks ago.

The pair of you only got to see each other during weekdays and the weekends Mason had home matches, so the weeks you could share together were divided into a week at his and another at yours.

It was a cosy night at his, cooking pasta together and watching Spider-Man on his sofa. Mason was laying on his back with half of your body on top of his, his hand underneath your shirt, rubbing circles against your back.

When the movie ended, he turned the tv off and stretched his body, making you giggle before readjusting yours.

“Bed time?” he murmured, kissing the tip of your nose, but you could barely process his words.

He’s so pretty, and you got lost admiring his features. His warm eyes, the tiny and sleepy smile, the corner of his mouth and the uncountable amount of freckles on his face.

Leaning your face upwards, you shyly pecked his lips. Mason smiled, knowing you find it hard to initiate kisses with him, and kissed you back. Properly this time.

It started slow and gentle, and you melted against his body. Your boyfriend had the power to make you dizzy with just a kiss, and your had to grab his shoulder to be sure you weren’t falling off the sofa.

Mason squeezed your waist, sneakily sliding his hand to your bum. It was something you both had agreed was fine for you, and he’d often slap it whilst passing through you, or cheekily grabs it during a movie session. He hadn’t done it whilst kissing you yet.

When you slightly opened your mouth, a bit surprised by his actions, Mason slid his tongue inside. He was still kissing you very softly, but it suddenly wasn’t what you wanted anymore.

Moving your hand to Mason’s neck, you felt a heat washing over you, adjusting your body on top of his. Instead of being laid flat against him, you were suddenly with your knees on either side of him, never breaking the kiss.

Obviously, he noticed the shift in your mood. But Mason isn’t the type of guy to jump in the first opportunity, and he wanted to be sure you really wanted to take the next step.

So instead of making any comments or trying to make things hotter, he just laid there, with you on top of him, your tongue deliciously slotting against each other.

When you pulled away just enough to breathe, Mason caressed your chin, giving you that precious mouth closed smile and waiting for your next step.

“I love you” you murmured, tracing his lips with the pad of your fingers.

Mason pretended to bite your fingers, gently squeezing your waist. “I love you, princess”

The way he whispered the pet name instantly got you kissing him again, swallowing his giggle. When your hips unconsciously moved Mason audibly groaned, the sound making your cheeks feel warm.

You gasped at the feeling of his boner against your core. The friction was too good, and you found yourself eagering for it.

Grabbing Mason’s hair and gently pulling it, you started to grind on top of him. Your boyfriend wasn’t exactly expecting it, letting out a loud moan.

“Princess- Y/N, wait” he held your waist in place. “Not here, baby”

“Why not?” you pouted, feeling your cheeks hotter than ever and not being sure if he was denying you.

Mason smiled, stroking your jaw.

“We can fuck on the couch how many times do you want later, but first time is a special one yeah? I need you to be comfortable” he kissed your pout.

“Oh” you mumbled, now feeling a bit ashamed for trying to initiate it and getting caught. You were imagining this would be like in the movies and Mason wouldn’t even pay attention to the fact that it’s your first time. “I just-”

“I’ve been watching you slowly getting ready every week, you know?” he interrupted you. “Your kisses were getting sloppier and your hands started traveling my body more. And last week when you pulled my hair- God, baby. You make me so desperate for you and you have no idea. But I know how it feels to idealise a first time and how movies and books, especially those you read, can make you think the first time can be treated like any other time. It can’t. I won’t fuck you today”

“I got it the first time, Mase” you avoided his eyes, trying not to let the disappointment flood you.

Mason held your chin, making you look at him before kissing your cheek.

“We’ll make love instead, yeah?” he murmured, brushing his nose against your cheekbone and almost making you choke. “Gonna take my time, in my bed. If you still want it”

“I want you. I want you really bad” you admitted, your hand playing with his hair.

“So, can I take you to my bed now? I have a new blanket and I promise is really fluffy”

“I bet it is” you tucked your face in the crock of his neck, hugging his shoulders and waiting for him to sit, adjust your legs around him and get up.

Without rushing, Mason took you upstairs. He gently laid you down on his bed, and the sheets were indeed really fluffy.

Laying between your legs, he kissed you for long minutes, working to get you back in the right mood. After a while, he brushed your hair out of your face and looked you in the eyes before letting you help to undress him.

You stared at his body whilst your boyfriend got off of you to take off his shorts. You had seen Mason’s body a few times, during holidays at the beach and pool days, but nothing like this. Nothing near to the feeling of watching your man freeing his hard cock and then crawling back to you.

He stuck to his words that night. Mason took his time to undress you gently, looking at every part of you as if he was trying to memorise it. He built anticipation, kissing your skin and whispering sweet nothings to you before getting you ready for him.

And soon you realised he was right. It would’ve been really difficult to do it on the couch.

Even though you tried to relax and Mason kept reminding you of it, your body still felt the need to go stiff at every new intrusion of his fingers. Plus, it burned. A lot.

Giving you time to adjust and never rushing you, your boyfriend kept reassuring you every step of the way.

When the sensation of his fingers started to feel better and the only thing crossing your mind was him, Mason asked you once more if you still felt ready to let him have you like that.

Nodding, you waited for him to position himself.

“Relax, baby” Mason murmured in your ear. You tried to, taking a deep breath and letting go, but the intrusion of his tip was enough to make you bite a painful moan.

Inch by inch, he gave you minutes to adjust until you would tell him it was ok to move again. Being the sentimental you ever were, your eyes filled with a few tears and when one of them slid, he gently kissed.

When Mason finally penetrated you completely, he completely stopped moving, kissing your forehead and your eyelids, brushing his lips against your temple.

You knew he desperately wanted to move. You knew that that was the moment he would lose control with an experienced woman, but instead of being filled by envy and jealousy or even insecurity, your heart pounded with love at the way he was focusing on you.

If Mason wanted someone to simply fuck whilst enjoying himself, he could have it. But he was there, paying attention to your body and your needs, wanting to show you the good part of it.

“I think you can move” you told him, but he shook his head no.

“Not yet” he kissed your jaw and your neck, sinking into you a little bit more and sighing. “You feel so good. So cosy and warm” he said playfully, making you giggle. “What? I’m being serious”

“You feel good too” you tried to smile, but all you could do was focus on how it really hurts. You knew it would, but you were expecting a silly pain, something easily ignored.

“Don’t need to lie to me, I know it’s still hurting” he gently brushed his nose against your neck. “It will feel good soon, tho. I promise”

“Ok” you nodded, trying to relax your body. The burn sensation was starting to fade away, but it was still so weird having Mason inside of you.

Still not moving, he started to kiss your neck, slightly sucking on the spot beneath your ear before trailing kisses down your shoulder.

When he came back to kiss your lips, sliding his tongue inside your mouth and groaning, you felt a different kind of heat where your bodies met.

“Mase” you whined, starting to feel impatient.

“I know. Believe me, I know” he stared at you, his big brown eyes only making you feel more needy. “Be patient for me and I’ll make it worthy”

When you nodded, he kissed you again. It felt like kissing him for hours, his tongue slotting against yours, his hand cupping your face whilst he tried to kiss you deeper. When he pulled his body slightly away and his cock slid with no difficulties, you audibly gasped.

“See?” he kept kissing your face, whispering against your ear. “You were too nervous, baby. Thinking too much. Needed to make my girl wet again”

Now that he mentioned it, you could feel what his kisses have done to you. It was like adding oil to a bicycle chain, and the comparison made you chuckle.

Your giggles didn’t last long though, instantly turning into a moan when Mason made his first real move. He thought the sound of you moaning beneath him could actually make him pass out.

Instantly biting your lips, you felt a bit shy for making sounds already, so easily. The thought that you were inexperienced kept crossing your mind, and you didn’t want to act like it even though both of you knew the truth.

“Gonna hide the best part from me?” Mason pouted as soon as you bit your lips, slowly thrusting into you again and smiling when you rolled your eyes. “I wanna hear you. Make sure you’re feeling good”

“I am” you assured him.

“Then show me” Mason whispered, biting your jaw lovingly. “I don’t wanna be the only one screaming”

“Screaming?” you raised an eyebrow, trying to hold another moan when Mason moved again, slowly torturing you.

“You have no idea how you feel wrapped around me. It makes me wanna scream” he admitted, and his praise filled you with pride. “You feel like heaven” he looked you in the eyes, whispering against your lips. “I’m gonna prove it to you”

—

Since that day you’ve been needy for him 24/7. Just a glance at his arms or his tummy, a stare at his tongue darting out of his mouth, the groans he makes when training at home. Everything makes you wet.

He wasn't complaining, obviously. It was like a frenesi, and despite you still having your old activities like cooking together and watching movies curled up, the night would always end with him touching you.

Some nights he would make you cum on his fingers and not ask for anything in return, most of nights he would buried himself into you and make you both feel good, but on a few others… he would teach you different things.

Mason taught you how to touch him, and making him cum only with your hands made you feel so powerful. He also showed you how his mouth feels against you, how good he is with his tongue.

He was slowly helping you to build your confidence and discover what things you liked most, which positions you prefer. You felt so grateful for having someone that cared about you first, that waited for you and now was patient to let you learn step by step.

But as much as he was caring, Mason was cheeky.

That’s why it didn’t surprise you when after a dinner night together, cooking your favourite lasagna and watching Friends, he left to his bedroom and came back with a box.

“What’s that?” you frowned, slightly confused, but he only shrugged.

“A gift”

“Babe” you narrowed your eyes. “It’s not my birthday, it’s not Valentine’s Day, it’s not our anniversary”

Mason rolled his eyes, sitting in front of you and giving you the box.

“I like to buy you things. And this one is really good” he defended himself.

You carefully opened the box, quickly glancing at the inside.

“Mason! What’s that for?” you tried to hold your giggles, feeling your cheeks burning at the sight of a sex you. You couldn’t even get mad at him, seeing that he took the time to choose your favourite colour.

“For when I’m away” he smirked. “It won’t be as good as me but it’ll still be good”

“Babe” you laughed, your heart tightening. “I don’t even know how to use it”

“It’s easy to learn” he leaned down and pecked your lips. “I just thought that can use it alone and discover your body. But we can use it together as well”

You nodded, closing the box and putting it aside.

“Thank you. The colour is pretty” you smiled, but your cheeks were still warm, and Mason giggled before kissing them.

“Such a shy girl. You weren’t that shy screaming my name last night-”

“Mason!” you slapped his arm, rolling your eyes at his giggles.

Since he had training the day after, the pair of you went to bed early so he could rest, trying your best to just sleep. It wasn’t easy since your boyfriend is as needy as you, and soon he was stretching you in the best way possible, murmuring praises in your ear.

The pair of you slept right after, cuddling like you love to do.

A few days later, when you were back at home and feeling needy for him, you remembered what Mason got you for moments like these.

Going to your room and taking the box out of your closet, you stared at him whilst it stared back at you back.

Where’d you start? Your cheeks were warm and red just at the sight of it, and you thought of calling Mason for help before remembering he told you he’d go out with some boys from the England team.

You weren’t sure of what time he’d be coming back so you decided to text and see if it was home already.

You knew straight away that he was still at their meeting, but as soon as you dismissed him your phone started to ring, his contact’s name showing on the screen. You accepted the call and took a deep breath, trying to gather the courage.

“What’s wrong princess” his voice was sweet and your entire body got warm with how caring he is with you.

“Are you home?” you bit your lower lip, not wanting to put him in an embarrassing position.

“I asked what’s wrong” was his simple answer.

You took another deep breath. “I just… it’s so silly”

“And it’s just me. Nothing you’d say can be silly for me”

“Fine- I wanna use what you gave me, but I feel so shy every time I look at it. It’s just easier when you're touching me”

“Oh- ok” Mason gasped, looking around. You heard a few conversations around him and your cheeks got warmer.

“Sorry- I’ll just hang up and we can talk later, yeah? You’re not even at home” you murmured, but before you could hit the button he answered you.

“Are you undressed already?” he cut you, the way his voice got hoarse making you shiver. “I bet you’re not so take your shorts and panties off f’me, yeah? You can keep the shirt if it makes it easier”

“Mase…”

“Just do as I ask, baby” he told you. When you hummed to let him know you had obeyed him, he continued. “Now get under the sheets and spread your legs open f’me, love”

“Okay” you murmured, your face so hot you could swear you had a fever.

“Turn the toy on” he told you, and you did as he asked. “But don’t go directly for it. You can brush it against your thighs, like I do when I’m about to eat you out. Tease yourself, baby”

You followed his instructions, letting him know every step of yours. After a while of hearing you’re breath getting heavier, Mason kept guiding you.

“You can brush it over your pussy now, baby. It’s a different sensation so go slow, enjoy it, rub gentle circles on your lips”

He knew exactly when you obeyed by the profane sound you made, your moan giving him goosebumps.

“Mase-” you gasped, heating his entire body. Mason’s grin didn’t go unnoticed by his mates, but none of them approached him since he excused himself to call you.

“Be gentle, baby. Like my tongue would be” you could hear in his voice how much he was enjoying this himself. “How are you feeling?”

“It’s funny I guess, makes everything vibrates at the same time”

“Circle your clit now” he asked you, and hus own breath started to get heavier.

“Wow” you gasped surprisedly, making him chuckle.

“It feels good, doesn’t?”

“Mase” you whined, your head falling against the pillow.

“Fuck” Mason cursed, looking around to be sure he was still safe. “That’s it, baby. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m there”

The way you cried out made his head spin.

“I don’t want to pretend” you whispered, “I need you”

“I need you too, princess”

“I need you now” you whined, the pleasure mixed up with the frustration of not having him there.

“Do you?” he thought for a second, his feet walking before he actually made the decision. “If you keep being a good girl then you might have me. Turn it to level two, please”

“Mason-”

“Do it” he demanded, and you instantly moaned when you obeyed. Mason pulled his t-shirt down trying to cover his hard member when he got closer to his friends again. “I’ll answer you back in a second princess. Keep going”

“Mate” you could hear Foden in the background. “Can you take me to my hotel? I came with Jack but he’s nowhere to be found”

“No way” Mason giggled, and you could picture him already walking to the exit, not even saying goodbye to his friends.

“C’mon Mase, it’s two minutes away from here”

“Look Phil, I love you” Mason squeezed his shoulder. “But I love my girl more and she needs me really badly right now”

“You’re disgusting” Phil rolled his eyes, but chuckled.

Mason didn’t gave him time to continue, turning his back and leaving, impatiently waiting for them to bring his car.

“Are you still with me, princess?” he murmured, your little pants slowly making him go wild.

“Ye-ah. I’m back at teasing myself like you told me to do. My thighs and- my nipples” you whispered, making Mason groan proudly.

“Such a fucking good girl” he sighed. “So good for me, yeah? You’re so fucking good for me. Bring it to your clit again”

When his car parked in front of him, Mason thanked the valet parking and quickly got in, putting you on speaker and instantly starting to drive the fastest he could.

Mason groaned when you just moaned in response, trying to focus on the road. He silently thanked the universe that you decided to try the toy tonight, when he was at a meeting only ten minutes from your place.

He could do it in five.

“Slide it to your core, baby. Like I’d do with my fingers, can you do that f’me? Slowly penetrate yourself”

“You said about your kisses, your tongue and your fingers as a comparison” you giggled. “What about your dick?”

“Let’s be honest” Mason chuckled. “No toy can stretch you like my cock. That’s why I’m coming to give it to you. Now do as I asked, yeah?”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see it and pressed the toy against your core, giving Mason a loud moan whilst gently inserting it.

“Jesus, you’ll make me cum” he groaned, gripping the wheel with both hands. “Fuck yourself with it, princess. Find the pace, do it slowly”

“The way it vibrates-” you cried out, feeling overstimulated. “I’m- oh my God”

A shiver went down Mason’s spine when you finally reached your high, the loud and high pitch moan sounding inside his car, the way you whined his name after almost making him cum on the spot.

“Don’t turn it off, baby. Guide yourself through your orgasm like I’d do” he instructed you whilst turning the engine off and jumping out of his car, practically running to your front door.

He was glad you were now on the step of having each other's key — he would hate to make you leave your bed to open the door for him.

When Mason got to your bedroom door, he made no sound. Instead, he turned the call off and watched you for a few minutes.

The messy hair, the soft moans, the way your cheeks and forehead were red. The way you were moving gently beneath the sheets.

“Mase?” you murmured, still feeling a bit dizzy from your orgasm.

“I’m here, princess”

“I need you” you cried out, and Mason were quick to enter the room. He was done watching.

Slowly walking towards your bed, he gave you a cheeky smile.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. So pretty, tucked in bed and playing with yourself” Mason murmured, smirking at your red cheeks. Once he got at the edge of the bed, your boyfriend took off his t-shirt, letting you admire his tummy muscles before taking out his trousers and crawling to you only in his boxers. “My innocent baby. Have I ruined you?”

“I think so” you shrugged, smiling when his nose brushed against yours.

“I can’t wait to ruin you more” he whispered, nose now brushing against your cheeks before you get the kiss you’ve been wanting for days. “Did you have fun? Did you cum?”

“Yeah” you nodded, pecking his lips.

“Good. This way you’ll get to know what you like”

“I like how you do it” you told him shyly.

“I can tell” Mason giggled, getting himself beneath the sheets. “But there’s more to know about it”

“Will you teach me, right?”

“Of course I will, bubba. Now c’mere” he tapped his chest, and you were quick to obey, happiness spreading across your body just from being tangled with him.

With half your body on top of him, you shared a slow kiss, savouring each other.

“Babe” you whined when his other hand cupped your chest underneath the shirt you were wearing, gently pinching your nipples.

“I’m proud of you, yeah? Look how far you’ve gone since we met. I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with liking sex and enjoying yourself” he told you, squeezing you against him.

“Thank you” you kissed his cheek. “For being so patient with me, even though you’re not exactly a patient guy”

“Oh” Mason giggled. “I’m a patient guy with you”

“I love you” you stared at him, rubbing gentle circles on his bare chest and smiling when he stared at you back.

“I love you more” he kissed your forehead, sighing when your hand started to travel down.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you touched Mason under his boxer, delicately the way he taught you, just to spread the precum over his length. Brushing your thumb over his tip, you smiled when he let out a shaky moan.

“Feels good?” you asked him, and the genuine tone of your voice made him groan.

“Feels better every time” he murmured, capturing your lips on his.

You didn’t even raise your body nor get on your knees. You were both so hazy that you were only capable of pulling down his underwear, waiting for him to take it off with his legs, and bringing the other half of your body on top of Mason’s and let him guide himself into you lazily, your face on his neck and your chest pressed against his.

Mason’s low moan when he penetrated you made your whole body shiver and you kissed his collarbone, staying still for a while and getting used to your boyfriend’s length.

“Gonna turn us around, yeah?” he whispered after a few minutes, squeezing your waist when you nodded.

With your back now against the bed, Mason hovered over you, kissing every part of you he could reach whilst giving you more minutes to adjust. Your jaw, your shoulders, your clavicle.

You know Mason likes intense sex, even rough sometimes, especially when he’s angry. You’ve talked about it, and you told him you wanna try it in the future, and despite him nodding and agreeing, he likes to be soft with you. To have slow and intimate sex.

And you love how he’s able to be gentle and yet firm with his hips, showing you how much he enjoys the moment by wanting it to last forever.

Your boyfriend slowly thrusted into you, his movement scratching every inch of your brain, the feeling of being filled by him making your head go dizzy. With his elbow next to your face whilst his hand ran through your hair, you turned your head to the side and gently bit his biceps.

“Are you good, princess?” he checked, your actions turning him even more.

“Faster” was the only thing you were able to say, scratching the back of his neck.

“Do you want me to go faster?” he repeated, chuckling when you nodded. “Where’s my shy baby?”

“Mase” you pouted, and he kissed your lips before increasing the pace.

You grabbed every part of his body you could reach, sometimes even scratching his shoulders and back from how hard you were gripping on him.

When you came, squeezing him the way you’ve learned it makes him cum with you, Mason had no choice then to follow you, guiding you both through your highs.

After a minute or two, still panting and groaning, he gently pulled his member out of you, admiring his work.

“Can I?” he murmured with pleading eyes, his lips instantly turning into a pout and you knew exactly what he wanted.

“Yeah, baby” you nodded, smiling when his eyes twinkled.

Gently, Mason used two fingers to insert his cum inside you again, smiling when he got to watch it dripping out of you one more time.

“What do you like so much about it?” you giggled, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s me, all over you. It means you’re mine” he leaned down and pecked your lips. “And the simply thought that I own you makes me hard again”

“I think you should show me just how much you own me” you smirked at him, feeling giddy when his eyes widened playfully.

“Not so innocent, are you?”

“At least not when you’re naked over me” you shrugged, making him laugh before laying down and bringing you closer.

“So I definitely ruined you”

“I’ll always be your innocent girl, tho” you smiled at him, head finding a home on his neck right after.

“My innocent girl, just a little bit dirtier” he snuggled closer to you, his fingers gently brushing against your lower back.

#✧･ﾟ: *✧ tsimvkas — works #mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n

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antonitty · 3 days

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Boyfriend Anton who...

: ̗̀➛ Sfw + Nsfw under the cut

: ̗̀➛ Boyfriend!Anton who'd buy cute little matching dinosaur keychains so the two of you could match.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd gently run his fingers through your hair and praise you for your hard work whenever you accomplished something new.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd let out flustered giggles whenever you'd peck his lips out of nowhere.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd always get lost in your eyes and just has that cute little smile on his face ,his puppy eyes sparkling while gazing into yours.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd let you latch onto his arm or hold onto his pinky in public , he always has his pinky locked with yours.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd get so shy and giggle to himself , muttering "cute" under his breathe whenever you wore his shirts or hoodies that were way too big on you.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd always be the big spoon when the two of you are sleeping , he likes how his long arms can wrap around you so easily and the way you perfectly fit in his arms.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd send you memes with the caption "Us?"

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who took you to "build a bear" on your first date so you could get matching plushies with matching Outfits.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd have a silly picture of the two of you as his wallpaper , turning on the function so that multiple pictures will show up on his lockscreen so he can still have the picture of him and his little brother as the lockscreen as well.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd take you swimming with him , helping you and teaching you how to swim if you don't know how to swim. If you do know how to swim , he'd do little races with you just for fun and purposely slowing down so you can win.

Minors , leave now

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd spend hours between your thighs and eat your pretty little pussy out , sometimes even adding his fingers and thrusting them into your needy hole because he knows how much you love his fingers.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd kiss your pretty clit before he'd eat you out.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd get so overwhelmed whenever you suck his cock , pushing your head down and gently fucking your mouth because he can't control himself , your mouth just feels so good.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who's a switch but is a Service dom most of the times , it depends on his mood. He just loves pleasuring you , your pleasure comes first.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who didn't know that he had a size kink until he started dating you. The way you struggle to take his cock in either your pussy or mouth always gets his cock twitching. Or when you wrap your smaller hands around his cock. The way his hand is so much bigger than yours is so endearing to him.

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who loves buying pretty lingerie for you but nothing gets him harder than seeing you only wearing one of his white shirts without anything underneath. He can't stop staring at your nipples that are poking through the thin fabric

: ̗̀➛Boyfriend!Anton who'd get carried away sometimes and loses control over himself , pushing his thumb into your mouth and moaning at the way you swirl your tongue around it.

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haetrack · 24 hours

Note

*runs into room*

corrupting sweet, innocent, virgin!haech into letting u be his dom mommy 🗣️

*runs out of room*

- ☀️

warnings: fem!reader, virgin!haechan, corruption kink, wet dream mentions, slight mommy kink, guided masturbation, wait just a handjob

a/n: haetrack returns. who’s ready.

when haechan wakes up, he’s a little confused as to why he’s so hot and sweaty. it’s not until he shifts his hips and realizes that he came in his shorts.

the dream that he just woke up from flashes through his mind. there you were on top of him, whispering into his ear. that’s all you were doing, so why is he like this?

it’s not like he hasn’t had these types of dreams with you before. dreams where your lips make close contact with his own, dreams where you touch him a little more intimately. he’s only ever woken up hard though, forcibly willing away his boner for his own sake.

but here he is, cringing at the patch of cum on the front of his boxers. it’s not like you were doing anything to him, all you were doing was sitting in his lap, pretty eyes staring down at him.

he can’t deny the little crush that he has on you. you were one of the first friends he’s made at college. you’ve stayed friends throughout all the years, and you’re still the only girl that he’s friends with. he can’t help but think that you’re cute.

this shouldn’t be a problem. he can just go clean up, take a shower, reflect on his actions, and move on with his day. except he can’t- he’s supposed to meet up with you today.

he’s mad at the world and how it decides to curse him on the worse day possible. now he has to look you in the eye and pretend that he’s been having dreams about you touching him. he doesn’t even jerk off that much, he doesn’t deserve this.

which is probably why he’s having these dreams in the first place. totally not because he might be in love with you and he wishes that one day you could touch and teach him how to have sex. not that at all.

when he heads over to your place later that day, he has to keep himself together as he knocks on your door. he looks at his feet when you open it, trying to avoid all contact with you. you’re quick to notice it though, laughing when you catch him blushing.

he brushes you off, walking into your apartment like he lives there. you pull him into your bedroom as he watches you plop into bed. it shouldn’t feel so different, but he can’t stop thinking about his dream with you.

he awkwardly shuffles to your bed, stiffly sitting next to you. you give him a questioning look, and he tries to get more comfortable. his thigh brushes against yours causing him to flinch away from you, almost as if you’ve burned him.

you raise your eyebrows at him, “are you alright? you’re acting a little weird.”

he scratches the back of his neck, “i’m fine… i just had a hard time this morning.”

you put your phone down, now intrigued, “what happened? bad dream?”

“well, not exactly… you came out in it…”

you shift your body to fully face him, now fully invested, “now you have to tell me what it was about. literally every single detail.”

haechan realizes then and there that he just made a problem for himself. you could barely count his dream as a sex dream, but telling you that would probably be the most embarrassing thing that could happen to him.

especially because you know he’s a virgin. as far as you know, he’s never dated, hasn’t had sex, and probably hasn’t kissed anyone. he keeps to himself, which is probably why he’s like this now.

when he doesn’t respond, you chuckle a bit, “was it that bad of a dream because i came out in it?”

“n-no!” of course he’s being sweet, “it’s just- you were- we…” his words quickly die in his throat, really not wanting to describe to you his dream.

your hand shoots to his thigh, and he begs every god in the world to make sure he doesn’t get hard. he stares at your hand, watches how your thumb smooths over the exposed skin from how his shorts have ridden up.

you realize that he’s gotten quiet, his chest is heaving with every breath. it really doesn’t take you long to piece together what’s happening to him. his suddenly shy demeanor, a dream with you and him in it, and how he’s reacting to just your hand touching him.

he probably dreamt about you two fucking.

it does shock you a little. is there any way your sweet, innocent friend could dream up something like that? his body is probably begging for him to get his dick wet, so it probably isn’t that crazy to think of. you might just have to help him.

you sit in front of him, your hand still messing with his thigh. he’s not looking at you, choosing to stare at his lap. you look as well, noticing the bulge beginning to tent his shorts. you start, “are you sure you don’t wanna talk about your dream?”

he doesn’t hear your words at first, quickly trying to put them together when you clear your throat. “i- um, we were like this together. that’s really it, so i don’t…”

“are you sure that’s it? because i can see you getting hard in your shorts, you know.”

his hands immediately shoot to cover up his bulge, “i-i didn’t mean to-”

you cut him off, “will you let me see?”

he lets out a gasp, “you wanna see my…”

your hands move to the tops of his, and you can feel how they twitch under yours, “i wanna see your dick, haechan? can i see it, please?”

he knows there’s an embarrassing blush on his face, but he can’t help but remove his hands from his bulge. you smile when you see the front of his shorts stretched out, his dick straining against them.

he whines when he notices you staring too long, too quiet. you glance at his face when your hand moves to trail under his shirt, feeling at the soft skin of his stomach, enjoying how his skin jumps at the feeling. “do you want me to help you?”

“i-i’ve never been touched by… anyone else before.”

you smile, “have you touched yourself?”

“i’ve tried jerking off but it just didn’t feel right-” his breath hitches when your hand goes lower, “i couldn’t get myself to… finish.”

you think about his words for a second. sitting back, a smile quickly forming on your face as you say, “i wanna see it. wanna see you touch yourself.”

his face shoots up towards yours, “i can’t do that! i-i don’t even know how!”

you move to sit on your knees, “i’ll help you!”

haechan watches as you place your hands comfortably on his thighs as if this is something you always do. he can’t say he doesn’t like it, your warm touch causing his cock to twitch in his shorts. you smile at the sight, thumbs tracing circles on his inner thighs.

haechan shivers at the feeling, clearing his throat, “should i, um, take off my shorts?”

you nod, biting your lip as you watch him peel them off. there’s an embarrassing patch of precum, his hands moving to quickly cover himself up.

you try to move his hands away, one of your hands lightly grazing his bulge, causing haechan to let out a quiet whimper. a laugh leaves you at the sound, haechan balling his hands into fist at his sides, clearly embarrassed.

he tries moving on, “can’t you just get on with it already?”

you chuckle, “if you wanna feel good, you have to tease yourself a little,” your hands move further up, dangerously close to his bulge, “can i touch you?”

he’s quick to nod, pulling down his boxers. his cock slaps against his stomach, his tip leaking, practically begging to be touched. when you look at his face, he’s red, lip caught between his teeth as he gives you a shy look.

your hand hovers over his length, smiling at how it twitches at the thought of you being so close. your fingers ghost over the base, watching how his hips buck up at the feeling, way too sensitive after all these years.

your thumb teases his tip, a bead of precum spills out. you can hear how haechan’s breath hitches, trying to stop any more noises from coming out. you pull yourself away from him, “now i wanna see you try!”

he lets out an exasperated noise, “you barely even touched me!”

you shrug, “i said i was gonna teach you, you have to do the hard part.”

he huffs, hand shakily wrapping around his length. you watch as he shifts around, trying to get comfortable, taking way too long to get to it. you motion for him to give you his hand, his eyes widening as you spit onto his palm.

you let him wrap his hand around his length again, but this time, your hand holds the back of his. you move his hand up, tightening around his tip as he bucks into his fist. while you try to take it slow, he’s quick to the get the idea, trying to set his own pace.

you remove your hand from his, rolling your eyes at how he whines at the loss of contact. you sit back, watching his shaky and clumsy movements as he tries to get himself off.

“how does it feel?”

“g-good, i just- shit, can’t you help me?”

you hum, pretending to think about it as your hand trails under his shirt. your nails drag against the soft skin of his stomach, enjoying how his muscles jump at the feeling. you whisper into his ear, “didn’t think you could be such a pervert, dreaming about fucking your friend, right?”

he’s quick to deny your words, hand still moving quickly over his leaking cock, “n-no! i just- i couldn’t help it! feels so good, want you to- need you to do something!”

you sit on one of his thighs, moving to press kisses along his neck. it’s suddenly almost too overwhelming for him having you this close. your lips on his neck, tongue licking against his skin. worst of all, he can feel how warm you are between your thighs. he swears he can feel you clench on top of his thigh.

the thought suddenly hits him that you’re enjoying this too. he lets out a loud whimper, his thighs beginning to shake as he gets closer to the edge. you suck one hickey on his neck before moving back, admiring how pretty he looks right now, all desperate and fucked out from a few touches.

sounds of his moans and whimpers fill the room, almost muffling the squelch of his fist around his cock. your fingers trace the skin of his thighs, only making his thighs shake more. his head tilts back, a moan slipping out, “i’m so close to cumming, mommy, please-”

you try not to let your shock show on your face at his words, trying to fit into the role, “yeah? just need mommy to take care of you?”

too fucked out to care, haechan quickly nods, hooded eyes watching as you lower yourself down, “please, think i’m c-close, just need you!”

you swat his hand away from his length, ignoring the complaints as you wrap your hand around his cock. his whines bleed into moans as you tighten your fist around his base, your mouth moving to hover over his tip.

and when you lean over, your tongue darting out to lick at his tip, he cums all over your face with a high pitched whimper. you try to get as much as you can in your mouth, swallowing it all down.

when he comes down from his high, he’s met with the visual of you smiling so sweetly, all of his cum over your face. it’s almost enough to get him hard again, his face heating up once more.

you laugh, licking up at the cum on your lips, “how was it?”

he groans at the sight, “you’re so- does it always feel this good?”

“it’s because it was me making you feel good.” you move up to press a kiss to his lips, enjoying the whine he lets out from how messy it all feels. you mumble against him, “also, you said mommy. really? mommy? out of everything?”

he pulls away to let out an embarrassed groan, arms moving to cover his face, “i just-” he tries to find words, “i never said i didn’t know anything about sex, maybe it just popped up in my mind!”

you shake your head, “you definitely learned that from porn.” he splutters, and before he can vehemently deny your words, “i never said i didn’t like it.”

his hands find purchase on yours, his usual confidence seemingly coming back to him. “that’s good, because i think you might need to teach me some more, right?”

#asks #☀️ anon #vals hard hours #nct smut #haechan smut #haechan hard hours #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios

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loves0phelia · 2 days

Text

Always Knew

Summery: ???

Words: 1,1k

Warnings: alcohol (barely)

A/N: this is my first ever fic, and English is not my first language so if I make any mistake please be nice and if someone sees this I would really appreciate receiving request xxx

The first time you saw Rafe Cameron you were 7 years old. It was the first time Sarah invited you over at TanneyHill a couple days after meeting you in her first grade class.

Like normal girls, you and her went on a bike ride. You briefly remember Ward and Rose saying to not go far since dinner was almost ready. But the only memory that stuck in your mind was how he managed to make you feel better.

Unlike all your friends you still had trouble riding a bike without the training wheels. So when one of them caught a small pebble on the ground it went sideways. By now you were back in front of the Cameron house so when Rafe heard your cries, he along with his dad and stepmother rushed outside.

You were holding your knee in pain. the skin was scraped and your palms were bleeding.

“Are you okay?” he had asked before kneeling in front of you while Sarah and the rest of the family watched the interaction. For a small second you almost forgot about your injuries as you looked into his bright blue eyes.

“y-yeah” you wiped your tears and he looked you up and down and then to the small wheels on the bike.

“ I can teach you to ride a bike without those if you want one day” You nodded and he gave you a smile.

Even at 7 years old you knew you would love Rafe Cameron.

Since that incident you had seen him a handful of times. But the next memorable time was when you were 10. Rafe was celebrating his 13th birthday in the backyard of his house. Multiple kids were having fun in the pool and some were eating cake.You and Sarah along with some were sitting next to the pool drinking lemonade and eating fruits enjoying the day like everyone else.

“Hey Sarah, do you want to play with us in the pool?” a 11 year old Topper asked. The boy always had a crush on her.

“Sure! Want to come with us y/n?” she asked sweetly but you politely refused before continuing sipping on your cold drink.

After a couple minutes some of the kids (who you think were Rafe’s friends) approached you.

“Don't you want to come in the pool with everyone” he asked judgmentally but once

again you decline seeing no problem in staying out of the water.

“Come on!” he tugged on your arm forcefully, leaving a small bruise and dragged you towards the pool. You trashed and tried to break free but just as the boy was about to push you in, Rafe grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him to the ground.

“She doesn't want to go in the pool, idiot!” He screamed, immediately alarming the adults who were having a great time.

“What's going on Rafe?” Ward came to the scene noticing the frighten boy on the ground and Rafe above him.

“He was trying to push Y/N in!” he said and his dad looked at you for confirmation, making you nod.

After that day, it felt like Rafe was always near when you needed him.

At 18 when all your friends were talking about their recent hookups you hadn't even held hands with someone. You were desperate to find someone, to share your first kiss. But It felt like nobody was good enough.

“what's going on in this pretty head of yours?” Your head snapped to the side when you heard his voice. You were sitting outside holding an unfinished beer outside the party where you felt you didn't belong.

“nothing, just felt overwhelmed inside” you shake my head and look down at your feet.

“Come on, y/n i know you. I know there's more than that” he said and gave you a light push with his elbow.

“I feel like I'm missing out, everyone I know has kissed or hooked up with someone and I've never even held hands with a guy. Sarah had Topper and now John B. Sabrina has kissed probably every girl on this island, Kelce always has a new girlfriend and you… you probably had tons of girlfriends” you sighed feeling embarrassed with my lack of experience.

“I've never had a girlfriend,” he whispered and you could barely hear him.

“You're such a liar” you laugh, a blow of wind makes your hair fall in front of my face.

“im serious y/n” he says and gently brushes away your hair behind your ear.

“h-how you're Rafe Cameron, like the hottest guy in the entire outer banks” your words fell from your mouth before you had time to think about them.

“You think I'm hot?” He laughed again and your cheeks reddened now realizing what you had just said. Quickly you had your face in your hands, beer long forgotten on the pavement.

“Oh God, did I really say that?” He continued laughing and you stayed hidden behind your hand trying to create a shield to protect yourself from the embarrassment. But your barrier is broken when his hands grabbed yours to pull them away.

Not wanting to face him you kept your head down, chin tucked against your neck. But when his hand grabbed your chin to make you look at him it was inevitable.

When your gaze finally connects with his, you notice the glimmer in his eyes. Rafe’s hand traveled from your chin to your jaw, you felt your heartbeat elevate as the tension between the two of you rose.

“Can I kiss you, please?” he asked even though his lips were already inches away from yours and eagerly you nodded.

His lips finally connected with yours, after years of secretly yearning for Rafe Cameron.

His hand that was previously on your jaw drops down to your neck as he deepens the kiss.

It feels like the kiss lasted forever when you separate. his forehead drops down on yours and a breathy laugh escapes his mouth.

“I always knew you would be my first kiss” you whisper and a smile breaks onto his soft lips it could light up an entire room.

“And I always knew I would end up with you, remember when you fell off your bike in middle school?” you nod after he asked his question.

“even though i didn't know what love was back then, i knew i loved you” both of his hands grabs your face softly, gently rubbing his thumbs on the apple of your cheeks before pressing his lips to yours passionately.

at this very moment you also knew you would never love anyone more than you love Rafe Cameron

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction

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moonsaver · 3 days

Note

I READ YOUR POST (and also anon!) ABOUT REBELLIOUS! VERITAS/RATIO, GOOD LORD..

Your writing is very good! And I like it! I'm having it for breakfast, lunch, dinner, everytime

BUT LIKE, LISTEN TO ME, WHAT IF S/O WAS REBELLIOUS LIKE HIM TOO. But not like actually him, just typical rebellious student back then. Like, breaking the rules, pissing off the teachers, etc

AND, HIS S/O IS LIKE NOW, NORMAL. A PROFESIONAL, and probably embarrassed of their phase back then. I do see them being Friendly and chilled with Ratio?? Or like "Oh crap, it's the old rebellious dude that tries to teach me random smart stuffs"

But in my opinion, I do see S/O just being like "Oh, what's up Ratio" and just being neutral. Greeting him whenever they passed by or see each other again, while also slightly joking about the things Ratio tried to teach them back then. As they told him that they actually listened to his teaching.. Even though it's.. Well, it's used by unsuccessful methods

BUT ALSO, YOU KNOW HOW XINYAN WOULD TELL EMBARRASSING STORIES ABOUT SHEHNE AND GANYU?

S/O WOULD DO THAT, telling Ratio old rebellious phase embarrassing stories to his students whenever they feel afraid of him. Like

"Oh, did you know that your professor (Veritas Ratio), used to talk so much about our teacher that just give the slightest wrong formula, to the point he keeps getting send to the office? Hah! I was there!"

As Ratio stood there with hidden embarrassed look, as he tries to hold the urge to not shut S/O up.

I'M SORRY IF I'M BOTHERING YOU, THE VOICES ARE COMMANDING ME... THE VOICES OF MY SIMPING FOR RATIO.

QNON ANON QNON!!!!YOU ARE FEEDING ME TOO I PROMISE YOU CAN BOTHER ME (its not even bothering me i love these asks),,, THE TENSION THAT IUST DISSIPATWS HAHAHA WAIT WAIT

Under the cut,might be long!

Soso, you're the rebellious kid who's butting heads with the other jerkwad, the only difference between you two is that he's just a nerd on top of being a rebellious kid. He's the "worst" of both worlds.

It's a very cliche enemies to strangers to acquaintances who respect each other to tension between possible lovers. Its kind of funny.

In your student days, I imagine the moment both of you see each other in the hall, you scowl at each other. Or make fun of something the other has. Maybe he's lugging a bulky art project and you make fun of him saying he looks like a turtle dragging his own shell. Maybe you left your bag's zip open and Veritas comments on how "devoid of knowledge" it is, "like your head" (you forgot all your books somewhere, your bag is completely empty). God forbid either of you tried something experimental and the other catches a glimpse of it. If they're not within talking distance, they'll shout on the top of their lungs. To both of you, the louder it is the more humiliation is involved. You'll find this method is often used by Veritas, as he openly quizzes you and chides LOUDLY that you're a BUFFOON and an IDIOT for not knowing a SIMPLE FORMULA. You decide to retaliate by stealing more than half his stationary, so now he has to scramble to gather extras and literally no one helps him cause he's a jerk lol.

Everyone on campus absolutely either hates it or loves it. Theres fanpages of you two with cringe edits,or those really well-made shitpost ones. Sometimes your classmates just bait the other to go a certain place just so you two cross paths and stir up a lot of trouble. The teachers are all done with both of you.

Cut to the future (or present?), reader's a professor too now. Let's assume either of them is unaware when they join the job (as implied by the request).

I imagine professor reader, if they manage to stay calm and just.. talk normally, it does give Dr. Ratio some whiplash. His pride demands he straightens himself out though, so it's not too soon before he himself drones on about some or the other tedious topic. You mention the past and how often you used to butt heads, and Veritas' first instinct is to immediately retaliate the way his past self would have done; but he stops himself in time, and sighs at it. You've painstakingly ingrained that response into him. But he's still slightly embarrassed nonetheless. It's not too soon before the conversation becomes more relaxed (I mean.. considering Veritas,as relaxed as he lets it be), and as a form of "nostalgia" he brings up all the questions he used to ask you back then, only to be pleasantly surprised when you give him detailed but professional answers. It's not too soon before he learns that you've become a professor aswell. Dr. Ratio congratulates you – with reservations of course, which is completely thrown out the window when you tell him you knew all of this because.. you listened to him.

Ugh. Don't make him feel so sappy. A part of him detests it; warming up and being all chummy with a hopeless classmate of all people. But a part of him is.. kind of happy about it.

Which is promptly changed the moment you also realize he's a professor now.

And that his students aren't spared from the nostalgia either.

He's bursting through the door, jaw dropped, angry and shocked face as you prattle on about how much of an asshole he was back in the day to his students. For a moment, he contemplates whether he should just throw chalk at you and make an example of you to his students, or drag you out. After a few seconds of paralyzed contemplation, he immediately grabs you by the back of your collar and drags you out before something else comes out of your mouth.

It's almost the same all over again – both of you bickering back and forth as he's all pissy about you spilling everything to his students! You've positively tarnished his reputation! Perhaps he shall tell your students how you used to walk around wearing a lanyard and a shirt with the institution name written on it in big, bold letters on the first day? Or that time you tripped and faceplanted right into the trashcan while you complained about his (axe bodyspray) deodorant?

Ugh.. he'll just deal with you later. Although he won't admit this even to himself.. it's nice seeing you again. He didn't think of that, it must be the headache you gave him that's making him think all weird.

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steddieunderdogfics · 24 hours

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments. I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go! For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD. I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.” And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet. - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers #writer's wednesday

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bad268 · 1 day

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Hi I really like your stories! And i was thinking that could you possibly write another one for Kimi Antonelli with a reader that can’t speak Italian while they are travelling in Italy? I believe this is going to be really interesting!

Good Enough (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (Thank you love! Some of this is a real conversation I had with one of my friends)

Warnings: Language lol, aged up Kimi

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 1052

Summary: Duolingo can only do so much

Join my 1K Celly

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

You liked to think that you were well-versed in many things. Italian was not one of those things. That was a bit of a problem especially when your boyfriend is Italian. You would visit him constantly, but you never left his house.

You were a homebody at heart, so you were more than content to stay at his house whenever you came to visit. It was just who you were.

However, Kimi wanted to show you around. He had a larger break between his Formula 2 season-ender and Formula 1 debut, and you were already planning to stay with him during the winter break. He wanted to take you around Bologna, his home city, and take you to all of his favorite places. This was mainly because you took him to all of your favorite places when he visited you and your home city before the season started, so he wanted to return the favor.

The first place you went to was his favorite cafe.

“But this sign says “bar,” Kimi,” You laughed as you reluctantly followed him to the building.

“Bar is a cafe in Italian,” Kimi laughed as he led the door open for you. You walked in and, true to his word, it was a cafe. You walk up to the counter to order, but everything is in Italian.

“How am I supposed to know what’s here?” You signed trying to recognize anything on the menu. “It’s all Italian.”

“Huh, wonder why,” Kimi joked, “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll order for you.”

“Can I just get a coffee with cream and sugar? I feel like that’s easy, right?” You asked looking around at the options, and you saw a bunch of coffee beans behind the counter. Surely they’d have coffee.

“Ciao, vorresti ordinare?” The barista asked as she saw you standing there. You immediately looked over to Kimi for him to respond.

“Ciao, vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero e un tè con latte,” He said to her before turning his attention to you. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“Do they have croissants?” You asked, and he nodded, turning his attention back to the barista.

“E due croissant, per favore,” He replied as he pulled out money to pay. “Grazie!”

“I’m never going to learn Italian,” You groaned as you walked to a table on the outdoor patio to wait for your food. “It’s difficult, and I don’t even know what you ordered us.”

“I could always tell you what I said,” he laughed. “I bet I could also teach you.”

“Please,” You let up as you grabbed his hand from across the table. “Duolingo is not helping. If anything, it’s making it more difficult to understand.”

“You tried Duolingo before asking your Italian boyfriend to learn Italian? Mamma mia!” Just then, the barista brought out your food and drinks before heading back behind the counter. “Here, I’ll help. This,” he said as he gestured to your cup of coffee, “I said I would like a coffee with cream and sugar. Vorrei un cafè con latte e zucchero. Try it.”

“I’m going to butcher the accents,” You admitted as you tried it out, and sure enough, you messed up a little, but it was not too far off the original. That could be chalked up to the lack of an Italian accent. “Was that horrible?”

“Not at all!” He encouraged as he took a drink from his tea. “Then I said I also wanted a tea with cream. Un tè con latte. Are you seeing the resemblance?”

“So tè is tea and cafè is coffee?” You asked and were met with a nod from him. “Then latte is cream, con is with, and zucchero is sugar.”

“Yes! That’s all right!” He smiled as he passed you one of the croissants. “Then what would ‘due croissant’ mean?”

“Two croissants, I’m guessing?” You answered nervously but were met with a smile.

“Sì, you’re doing great!” He praised as he brought your hand up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. “Now, do you know what ‘ciao’, ‘per favore’ and ‘grazie’ mean?”

“Of course, I know ‘ciao’! I’ve heard Bella Ciao before,” You joked. Kimi’s eyes widened as if still asking the question. “It means hi, right?” “Yes, but what about the others?”

“‘Per favore’ sounds like ‘please’ in Spanish, so I’m assuming that,” You replied, “And I bet ‘grazie’ is thank you. You’ve said that a lot, especially after the race, to your engineers.”

“Corretto!” That’s when he noticed you were both done with your drinks and noticed you were done, so he stood up to take the glassware back to the counter before coming back to you. “How about we go shopping? I can keep teaching you Italian while we walk around my favorite places.”

“That sounds fun,” You said as you stood up and followed him down the street, hand in hand. “I need a new jacket anyway.”

“Io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” he replied without missing a beat.

“Huh?”

“I need a new jacket in Italian is io ho bisogno di una nuova giacca,” He laughed seeing your confused face.

“Is this going to be a new theme? Anything I say, you’re going to translate it?”

“Se vuoi che lo faccia,” He said, causing you to glare at him. He laughed lightly before translating, “If you want me to.”

“As hot as I find your accent and you speaking Italian to me, I’d rather you not do that,” You admitted. “Can we just stick to small words that I definitely already know the meaning of and small lessons here and there?”

“Well, what words do you already know?”

“Ciao, per favore, grazie-”

“Word that I did not teach you before today,” He cut you off with a laugh.

“Uh, amour means love, ti amo means I love you, and um, one that’s not so good willed,” You chuckled nervously as you both walked by a huge group of people.

“I still want to know what it is,” He pressed once everyone cleared out of the way, and he pulled you to the side in an alley for more privacy. “What is it?”

“Vaffanculo,” You whispered, “It means fuck you.”

“Technically, it means go fuck yourself, but close enough.”

~~~~~

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vaguely-concerned · 2 days

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another really interesting thing in our man bashir to me is that I think this is the point where garak finally mostly relinquishes his self-appointed role as bashir's teacher. he seems to have taken it upon himself early on, for inscrutable but probably partially horny, partially cultivating a promising (and lovely) contact reasons of his own, to imbue julian bashir with some spysmarts and basic bastard thinking literacy skills, in the hopes that he won't go get his bright beautiful excitable ass killed at the first opportunity. there's a lot of mentor/protege undertone there in the early years. (if you want to get into asit stuff, very much in the same vein as palandine and garak's relationship in the beginning.)

but in omb garak really only has one of his little lectures, and it's basically about The thing about being a spy (and a person) that has most shaped his life: That's something else you've yet to learn, Doctor. A real intelligence agent has no ego, no conscience, no remorse. Only a sense of professionalism. There is no joy, no magic, no real delight to this, no winning, no recognition, and most importantly no connection; the reward for work well done is only ever the work itself. You don’t kiss the girl, get the key — you simply get on with turning yourself into nothing as best you can. and julian, who had just been trying to momentarily imagine a world where secrets can be cool and glamorous and for good, meaningful reasons that empower him to help the world rather than shameful and isolating and alienating and like a damocles sword hanging over him and everything he cares about, shoots back with 'well, but what if not that, though? that's the whole point of this game! this is my story not yours, trust me to know it better than you do. (I have more things to teach you too, if you’d just listen. And once he gets shot a little bit, garak does listen.)'

(somewhere beneath all this is almost exactly the same debate they will have explicitly later on -- "Sentiment is the greatest weakness of all"/"If that's true, that's one lesson I never want to learn". Something something the freedom to imagine and play around with different worlds in your head, no matter how cringefail james bond LARP nonsense that world is as long as it brings you hope and joy and new perspectives, kill the part of you that cringes etc. Garak you're allowed to get out of the closet in your head now, Tain is gone, you can imagine different things than what has been and no one will turn it against you. Im… sad)

through most of this episode garak is observing, and when he's not simply bitching about everything from the sidelines (<3), he's tentatively trying to throw in comments to play along, to figure out how the flow goes like he's learning a different language, and he's BAD at it hahaha. he barged in there to put himself in a position to learn something about julian bashir's ~*hidden inner psyche*~, but UH-OH spiritual uno reverse card time he's having to face some shit about his own psyche and the immense barrenness it's been forced to operate under for so long.

The learning between them has of course always been two-way (that’s partially what the whole relationship is built on), but in giving up the more ‘formal’ role — mask — of teacher, garak is also opening up space for realer emotional intimacy, letting one layer of artificiality fall and allowing more realness to shine through. even so he doesn’t let go of control completely until he’s faced with irrefutable (horny) proof that julian’s sentiments and ideals are backed by real conviction — julian knows (possibly better than garak does) what is a game, and what is real, and where he draws the line between frivolous and deeply necessary is different from where garak would and by the end of the ep I think garak trusts julian more, enough to leave the story in julian’s hands without trying to steer or form him even indirectly/sneakily. And to top it all off, the way julian uses his last dramatic speech to signal that he did also listen to what garak told him… augh.

the teacher role, along with the lies (ever his swiss army knife god bless), has helped garak keep a sort of fine-tuned control of the level of emotional intimacy possible between them, stay in control of what narratives are even on the table. and I think finally letting that fade more into the background transforms their relationship in ways that can pay off big time down the line, for all that it leaves things a bit strange and tentative in the meantime. by garak standards he’s being positively transparent in this episode. for the first time he talks about his time in the order without any coy prevarication, he states his hunger for knowing julian better right down to his ~*hidden inner psyche*~ almost pathetically openly (<3<3<3<3). And this is just my headcanon and definitely not what was meant at the time of airing, the unplanned nature of the augment reveal being what it is, but in context of the whole show as it became it feels a lot like garak offering some of his own authenticity to signal that julian could trust him with his. It feels like garak has figured out at least the rough outlines of what julian has uh got going on and tried to make this gambit, having… perhaps underestimated the extent of the defenses julian has internally/psychologically against Being Known, quite aside from the practical real world consequences of his secret getting out. Anyway. Lots in this episode. Many thoughts.

#the our man bashir post that was promised #garashir #star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #elim garak #julian bashir #does this make any sense. perhaps not. but at least it's out of my head lol #ds9 meta #long post

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drizzledrawings · 2 days

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do you have any young arthur headcanons.. absolutely in love w him

I have so many, he’s my son

(Spoilers btw) Here’s a few:

-loves the mystery novels that Hosea reads, that’s the first thing they bonded over. When Dutch starts teaching him how to read, Arthur is really reluctant and sometimes refuses cause the books are too hard and boring. But one day he asks Hosea what he’s reading and gets hooked on the tale that Hosea spins, so they start teaching him to read through story books

-was pretty scrawny and short for his age (14?) when they found him, but after a year of him being fed right he sprouted up pretty quickly. Even though he was tall, he was spindly for awhile, and pretty clumsy with his new long limbs

-when isaac was born, he was so scared to even hold him because of his own relationship with his dad growing up.

-Hosea and Bessie were like surrogate parents to him, and the one time he called them ma and pa was when he was wasted and emotional

-stole copper from a farm and found Boadicea in the wilds

-when him and Mary first got together, he’d really try hard to look nice for her

-scared of thunderstorms and spiders

-when he was deep in grief after isaac and Eliza died, grimshaw was the only one who was able to get him to eat and drink

-the title of “the curious couple and their unruly son” came about because of Bessie, that’s what she’d call them affectionately

I have more

#ourthur #rdr2

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evangelic-echo · 1 day

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ℭ𝔢𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔞𝔩 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔥𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱

Part 3:

Part 2<

You were new to heaven, that part was obvious. Compared to the others you stood out, looking a lot different from the rest.

You were made to fit in more with the humans, God's newest creations. You had only one pair of wings instead of three, making the clear distinction that you were different from the rest. Due to your purpose being taking care of humanity, your appearances were made to fit in more with the humans than your fellow angels. All the other angels had such unique features while you were given boring human characteristics to adhere better to them.

The few, early moments of life was great. Living in harmony with the few angels that had been created along side with you. One of the being Lucifer Morningstar, known to be as God's favourite. However, you knew him to be your greatest friend up here in heaven. Since the moment of your creation he's been there, showing you the ropes and being an overall helping hand with your duties and responsibilities.

Today was the day our Father had announced the creation of humans. They were mortal beings created by the soil of the Earth, residing in The Garden of Eden. As you walked with Lucifer, all you could do was wonder about how things were going to change with the new mortals being now your new priority.

"Birdie?"

You looked to your left to see Lucifer looking at you with a longing look on his face.

"I thought I told you to stop calling me that Luci?"

"You just remind me of a Bird that's all! I love those two wings of yours."

You brought your focus back to the girl before of you, cursing those pitiful thoughts away.

"Hi! It's so so soo nice to meet you! My name is Charlotte but you can call be Charlie, I'm so happy that Heaven is giving us another chance!"

Being preoccupied with your own thoughts, you hadn't noticed that the young woman had gotten up from her seat to greet you. Now that she was more closer to you, you took note of her other features you hadn't noticed before. Like her height for example, she definitely gotten that end of the stick from her mother.

Another thing you noticed is that while greeting you, she kept both her hands behind her back, not showing any effort to properly greet you with a handshake.

Rude...

Deciding to look past it, you extend your hand towards her instead as you introduced yourself. However, Charlie instead looks down to your arm, hesitating to reciprocate.

"Not to be rude, but uh, Adam tried the same to thing during my first meeting with him."

"Excuse me?!"

You would have never of thought that on this Saturday morning, instead of being at home, watering your plants and chilling on your bed. Your instead dealing with Lucifer's daughter, who he apparently didn't think to teach her basic manners.

"I know you're a hologram, you're up there in Heaven while I'm down here in Hell."

Now you're even more confused. Hologram? Was she not up here in Heaven?

Impulsively, you reach for Charlie's arm, but instead of you grabbing onto her scarlet red sleeve, your hand just falls through while her arm glitches out. You call out to the Cherub as you exit the room, seeking answers as to why it was crucial for you to take part in this fancy ass facetime where you essentially spend your whole day in a room alone, because the only other person you'd be speaking to isn't even physically in the room with you.

"You called me Ma'am?"

"Please tell me why both mine and the princesses time is being wasted by making us communicate through these shitty holograms?!"

"Heaven has always communicated with Hell this way Miss. I- uh, can't do anything about that. Sera believes that..."

You started to tune out the Cherub as he mentioned the Seraphim's name, you could care less about whatever the little creature was preaching about. Turning your back towards the angel, you opened a portal to the embassy down in Hell. Your not against technology or whatever, but using holograms instead of basic face to face communication was just too much for you.

"What are you doing?!! Creating a portal to Hell is absolutely unacceptable! If you step through that Sera will..."

You stepped through the portal without a second thought, cutting off the Cherub.

"I didn't think you were coming back"

Looking around you noticed that the embassy here in Hell looked exactly the same one back up in Heaven. If it wasn't for the fact that you could feel a physical difference between here and Heaven, you would've thought you opened a portal to the meeting room you were previously in.

"So sorry for the hiccup dear, I just prefer to speak face to face when it comes to matters such as this."

"Right! Of course, I completely agree. Well- uhm, it's nice to 'officially' meet you"

Without hesitation this time she extends her hand in your direction and you, of course, take her hand into yours, reciprocating her greeting. Internally taking back the initial thoughts you had of her only a few seconds ago.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too Charlotte"

You were sitting on one end on the unusually large table while Charlie was sat on the other, ranting incredibly fast while pitching her Hazbin Hotel to you. You absolutely did not have the heart to tell her this meeting was scheduled to talk about the shit show of the recent extermination. You also had to admit that this hotel had caught your interest after speaking to that Sir Pentious guy. But looking at Charlie now as she tells you about this project so passionately brought you back to those old memories of you and Lucifer as he would tell you about his plans for the Garden of Eden with that same passion and ambition, which honestly weighed down on your heart a lot more than you'd like to admit.

"Even with the destruction of our hotel during the exterminations, it allowed us to undergo huge renovations which have led to the Hotel looking the best it ever has since opening!"

"With all due respect Charlie, but the exterminations were literally yesterday. It's hard to believe you constructed a whole hotel after it got obliterated in a single night."

"With the help with mine and my Dad's magic, as well as the rest of the residents, we were able to build the Hotel from scratch! With even more rooms and wayy better infrastructure! If only I could prove to you how amazing it looks now! I may have a picture on my phone if you give me a second..."

As she pulled out her phone, humming and muttering to herself as she was browsing for said photo. You got up from your seat and walked towards the door, realising that she could in fact show you the new and improved hotel. Noticing that you were walking towards the exit, she lowers her phone as she focuses her gaze on you instead.

"Hey, uhh- I found the picture!"

"Or you could show me your newly renovated hotel now, in person. It's nearby is it not?"

"Really?! Yeah it's a few blocks down but I didn't think you'd want to venture further than this room."

Charlie did have a point, walking out and around on the streets of hell wasn't a great idea considering you weren't from around here. It's possible that the majority wouldn't be able to notice, but it takes just one demon to notice your energy being very different than the traditional hell spawn. But that should be fixed with a quick portal.

"Oh that's no problem at all. Although, I do have certain expectations for when I'm there."

Charlie, evidently excited to show off her hotel to someone new, nodded her head in response as she waited for you to continue.

"I want to see Lucifer."

A/N: It's been sooo long since I posted and I lowkey missed sitting down and just writing. ALSO THANK YOU ALL FOR THE FOLLOWS🫶. The taglist has significantly grown as well. If you want to be added just feel free to just comment and I’ll add you to it on the next update, which I promise is coming soon!!

Taglist: @alientee @froggybich @simbalioness @elementwind91 @tsukiko26 @weirdgirlislonely

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powderblueblood · 3 days

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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER ELEVEN — ALL TOMORROW'S KEGGERS

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: after you visit an old stomping ground to pad out your college resume and eddie agonizes about the what of what are you, you both return to the place where all this mess began--a classic harrington rager. content warnings: written in the immersive second person (you/yours), oc has a name, background and she/her pronouns but no physical descriptions. era typical misogyny, homophobia, general bad bitch scheming. mentions of drug dealing, sexual situations and strong language. minors fuck off. word count: 8.7k

Dear reader,

A while ago, I mentioned that thing that Joan Didion said about staying on nodding terms with the people we used to be.

Lucky for me and my once-fervent need to be inviolable from all angles, I have a couple of versions of Lacy I can choose from.

Depends on what I need from her.

The hot sprawl of the community hall drags your sense memory kicking and screaming back to age sixteen.

Scarlet nails tugged a rough line through your scalp, elevating your hair so high it might as well apply for zoning permission. An acrid blast of Aquanet settled right in your bottom lashes. Your mother loomed over your shoulder in the mirror, her cigarette ashing into some poor bitch’s retainer case.

“The way they run these things nowadays… it’s a disgrace,” she tutted, but not to you, “These girls are animals.”

That’s gotta be a fucking fire hazard, right?

“Well, if Lacy’s an animal,” a flame haired Ann Perkins guffawed, yanking a backcombed rat of your hair upwards—ow, “she’s a goddamn gazelle, Glory.”

“First kill?” You didn’t miss the smugness curling around her Elizabeth Arden lips, hunching your body glittered arms inward.

“No—god, no, I just mean with how graceful she is. My Carol, bless her heart, she’s got the coordination of her father after a slab of Old Milwaukee. You remember I told you about trying to teach her baton?”

“She sent it flying through the neighbour’s windshield,” you giggled fondly, recalling Carol telling you how much of a stupid cooze her mom was for trying to teach her in the first place. ‘Throwing some stick around—who does she think I am, Lassie?’

“Don’t smile,” your mom slapped your shoulder sharply, “It’ll smudge your gloss.”

You scrubbed it off in the bathroom moments later, reapplying a layer of scarlet lacquer you knew she’d call whorish. Too late.

Knocking back a swig of Diet Coke and two rainbow pills, you took the stage to claim runner up in the Hawkins division of the American Teen Princess pageant, meeting Gloriana’s seething scowl from the audience with your own Vaselined failure of a smile.

The lipstick had lost you the crown, of course. That was the winning theory. ‘If you’d have just done what I told you…’

The chemical sting of Aquanet still hurts your eyes, but you’re not the target this time.

See, a portfolio of writing is one thing, but the other thing that college applications generally look for is community participation. Volunteer work. Charity grubbing. And gracing Eddie Munson’s lunch table with your occasional presence apparently doesn’t count.

Just kidding. Kind of.

Point is, you needed something quick and dirty, yet passably prestigious, with people who would bend to your will. And there’s no one more malleable than insecure high school girls competing in a beauty pageant in small town Indiana.

“Now, Lacy, we are delighted to have you here helping out,” says Claudia Henderson, a one time multi-title holder (just short of Miss America apparently—‘But then they stopped giving homely girls a pass; poor Claudia never stood a chance,’ your mom had told you) and the kind of kindly woman that loves to clutch your arm while you walk.

Ordinarily, you’d be repulsed by such a gesture but you’re desperate.

Before you get a chance to gush falsely, tell her how grateful you are for the opportunity, Claudia cuts you off.

“But I do hope that this isn’t some covert effort by your mother to get back in our good books—because, golly, well, that bridge is burned!”

Of course. Your mom had attempted to sabotage Tammy Thompson’s performance portion by mixing a laxative into her milkshake, because a shit show like that would make your little poetry reading look positively Carnegie worthy. But she hadn’t covered her tracks well enough and got sniffed out by the pageant committee. So had Tammy, poor thing. Horrible day to wear white chiffon.

Incredible that it was that they were still hung up on, and not the… everything else you and your family had going on. You do a decent impression of cringing, looking at Claudia with mournful eyes.

“Claudia, I swear, this is all me,” you assure her, “The time I spent doing pageant prep was just so formative—I think I would’ve been a lot worse off facing, well, certain challenges without it. I’d really like the chance to give that back to the girls.”

Admittedly, your hours spent in front of the mirror training your face to look earnest for the interview portion hadn’t gone to waste on the stand during your father’s trial.

“That is just incredible to hear, sweetie. And between you and I, you’re really saving our keisters because the girl we had helping our hopefuls out with speech prep dropped out last minute!”

That’d be the current debate team captain, Kate something-or-other. She was easy enough to take out—posing as a concerned member of the local Christian youth group, you’d placed a call to her ultra-conservative parents about her hanging out with Billy Hargrove. Which was total bullshit, of course. Billy wouldn’t approach an ex-or-current band geek with a hazmat suit on. A shame, really. The band kids were the only niche that could rival Billy’s baseless horniness. His dream girl could be hanging out behind a trombone someplace, squeezing her knees together.

Anyway, did you feel great about selling Kate out like that? Honestly, you didn’t care about it too much one way or another. The maneuvre felt very classic Lacy, which was in part a little shameful and in part incredibly satisfying to know that, when it comes to manipulation, you’re still batting at a professional level.

Claudia wheels you and your elbow around the room, the oxygen thick with sweat and body spray and pageant application forms. A couple of the would-be queens catch your eye–homely girls, as your mother would call them, who were duped into their well-meaning parentals or sisters or guidance counselors into thinking that doing the pageant was a great way to make friends. A boost to their self esteem. A chance to really show the town what they’re made of!

Someone should tell them to run, but it’s not gonna be you.

“Oh, Lacy!” Claudia suddenly half-shrieks, halting you with a sharp tug, “Meet my special little guy! This is Dustin, he goes to Hawkins Middle. I like to bring him around to meet the girls so he learns how to treat a lady. It’s so important for boys, don’t you think?”

Yeah, start the little lotharios young. You tilt your chin in acknowledgment of the kid, who squints at you from under the rim of a ball cap. Claudia’s attention is diverted by some other poor bastard helping to organize this dog and pony show, but she keeps her hand firmly on your elbow. It’s starting to feel a little like you’re being led around the prison yard. You attempt a tight smile at her son, who’s still looking you up and down.

“Hey, I know you!” he barks– seems like lack of volume control runs in the family, “You’re Nancy’s friend. You slept over at the weekend. I’m Mike’s friend? I ate the green peppers off your pizza slice…? Not ringin’ any bells? Really?”

“Oh, right,” you lie, having no recollection of ever meeting this child, “Pleasure, sure.”

The way he’s surveying you is a little much. “So, what was up with that guy?” he asks you, tone dropping conspiratorially. You don’t know why, but you feel like middle schoolers shouldn’t be able to do that.

“Excuse me?”

“Me and the guys saw some scary dude climbing out of Nancy’s window. Is he–”

What’s up with kids and just having to say any old thing? What happened to being seen and not heard? What happened to being intimidated by your high school elders? If his mother wasn’t standing right next to you, you’d flip that little propeller cap off his head and tell him to go fetch.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The kid cocks his head to the side. “Positive? Because it sure looked like–”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. –Justin, wow, you’re such a card, ha ha ha,” you slip your arm out of Claudia’s as subtly as a woman breaking into a cold sweat can, “Claudia, I’ve got to dash unfortunately, but you’ve got my number! Let me know when I can come and meet with the girls, won’t you? I’m so excited.”

You’re so absolutely fucking not.

Footsteps burn a hot trail through that creaking hall, not quite avoiding a couple of stares as you flit past. Of course, since Ray’s great return brought a whole new batch of grist for the Hawkins’ rumor mill, you’d been subject to more whispers than usual. Any move you made was in some way looped back to either groveling for the town’s forgiveness, assuming your father’s criminal crown, or generally being a case for pity or ridicule. Sometimes both, if people were really creative. Stood to reason that the only person you want to see is someone who’s lived with notoriety like that for most of their life.

Ivana has parked across two spots in front of the community hall, her green Buick gleaming under an unseasonable glare of sunlight. It’s still far too cold to have the top down like she does but she does and she sits bundled in the front seat. A leopard print fur coat, a cigarette, a pair of sunglasses perched in her platinum beehive.

“Christ, girlie, I thought they’d tied you to the stake in there.”

“My escape was narrow, as always,” you smirk, sliding into the passenger seat and tugging your own coat around you a little tighter. “What’s up with the exposure?”

“Feeling the wind whip your face is good for you, especially when you spend most of the day craned over books like you do.”

“This coming from the owner of the biggest bookstore in town.”

“Only,” Ivana corrects you, as she so often does, “Only bookstore in town. You saw what happened when B. Dalton tried to muscle in on my territory.”

“You admitting to knowing something about that mall’s fiery end, Ivana?” Horseshit bombs and the Russian mafia come to mind, but Ivana just cackles loudly and tears out of the parking lot at breakneck speed.

The frigid sting of wind on your face does feel fantastic, you have to hand it to her. Resetting your base temperature from boiling, where it’s rocketed between school and home and Eddie and everything. Much as it’s thrilling, exploring this new aspect of your… dynamic with him, on top of everything else, it’s a lot.

You’re not quite ready to classify your feelings about Eddie without your chest feeling like it’s going to cave in. Every other conversation winds up with your hands all over each other, clumsy in the communication of your unrepressed passion. And it is great, don’t let yourself be misunderstood, you crave it when it’s not happening, and boy do you beat yourself up when you stop it from going all the way but…

The tape keeps getting tangled. Like you’re playing the right song at the wrong part of the movie. It keeps coming out warped and rushed, and you keep feeling like somebody is watching you two.

You two don’t belong shoved into clandestine corners, making out on the sly. You’d been hiding the things that you care about in places like that your whole life. Your books and records under your bed, your clothes in the back of your walk-in wardrobe. Your thoughts in your journal. Your real face from your fake friends.

Eddie’s like a great, flowering plant that has spread his curling vines into every facet of your life, taking root right at the center.

He may not know it, he may be playing the part of being very understanding but he demands light and care. And dirt.

It scares you.

But that tearing breeze settles your nerves, and those are rarely settled around Ivana herself. She has a preternatural way about her. She knows just when to step out of the shadows and twist fate so your path gets a refresh. First, your job at the Bookstore. Now, letting you into her inner sanctum.

Brambles clatter against the green paintwork of the car as you careen down a backroad off of Holland. Gravel sprays as Ivana hauls you up her drive and you catch a fresh smell– to your immediate right, you’re looking out on the still, chilled expanse of Lover’s Lake. You breathe in that post-winter thaw, curling your wistful hands over the passenger side door and she seems to notice.

“Hell of a view, right?”

The slam of Ivana hip-checking her car door closed is the loudest sound out here.

“Peaceful,” you remark, following her up the sagging wooden porch. Another look over your shoulder. You were used to seeing Lover’s Lake from another part of the embankment, usually crowded with cars and beer coolers, bodies in bathing suits baying for attention. You’d been one once, trying desperately to look comfortable in your sweltering skin only to sneak off and take shelter in Main Street Vinyl.

The frigid water seemed more inviting right now.

Another house, this total slouch of a place, stares right at you from across the lake.

“Nice neighbors?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Ivana says, shoving the ancient front door open.

Following her inside, you have to suppress a gasp.

Ivana’s house is no mansion, but the way she’s filled it makes it feel like one. Under vaulted ceilings, everything seems to be cast in a rich, aquatic shadow. Tendrils of greenery embrace each corner and even hang from the ceilings. Threadbare rugs of once-moneyed origin muffle you underfoot. Chairs of velvet sag and every single goddamned surface is covered in tchotchkes, magazines, scarves, photographs. Even the Steiner piano. You catch a glimpse of the pictures in gilded frames as you slowly follow Ivana toward the back of the house–Ivana with equally glamorous looking friends, dancing at what you’re sure is Studio 54. Ivana standing next to Andy Warhol, a disgruntled looking Norman Mailer lingering in the background of the shot. Ivana on her wedding day. And second wedding day. And third wedding day.

Your chest throbs furiously.

You hear Ivana creek up the stairs and you’re not quite sure what the proper procedure is here– do you follow her? Would she push you back down the stairs if you tried such a thing? She’s always seemed like the type. Fiercely private. Only sharing the tiniest tidbits of this rich meal of a life she lived before she came back to Hawkins.

“Come on, girlie. I ain’t got all day.”

You take your opportunity and scarper up the stairs behind her. Eyes flit over even more photographs as you ascend, a smile of disbelief crossing your lips at the sawn-off shotgun mounted on her wall. Like she’s Annie Oakley or somebody. She could be. It’s evident to you now that Ivana has been just about everyone there is to be. It ought to intimidate you, really, bearing witness to someone who’s so successfully lived life before you’ve even begun to, but it doesn’t. The closeness, clutteredness, coziness of this house lulls you into a funny kind of serenity.

“I just don’t get you, Ivana,” you say, not entirely wanting to catch her in earshot as you float into her bedroom. Dark and plush, like everything else. A light comes on in her overstuffed closet.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Of course, she hears everything.

You approach the heaving wardrobe, hands running along silk, chiffon, velvet. Broderie, brocade, lace.

“How the hell do you go from having a full life like this,” you grip the sleeve of what could be one of Ivana’s three wedding dresses, “and end up back in East Jesus, Indiana? I mean you’ve–you’ve been everywhere. You’ve done everything. How can you stand it here?”

Ivana tilts her head at you from where she sits on the ottoman at the end of her bed. Canopy, naturally. She looks at you as if really taking you in for the first time. You shift a little, from one foot to the other. It doesn’t feel probing and accusatory, not like how your mother looks at you. More like she’s reading your palm.

“I wanted to come home,” she says, simply. “Had my fill. Got tired. Wanted to remember what fresh air felt like, and realized I preferred it to car horns.”

“But why not, like… upstate New York? Somewhere actually scenic and peaceful, why Hawkins, Indiana?”

“I wanted to come home, I said. Now,” she gestures to the masses of clothes, “You’ve got ten minutes. One outfit. Dig.”

—

“This is, like, beat for beat my worst fucking nightmare, I want you to know that.”

“You know what, shoot me down but I think you wanna go to this–I think you’re getting nervous because of how excited you are!”

Ronnie Ecker aims a finger gun right between Eddie’s eyes. “Name yourself, body snatcher. Who the fuck are you and what have you done with my best friend.”

She’s got him point blank on that one. He’s acting a little out of sorts–but, in his defense, he’s having, as Rick Lipton might call it, a total wig out. Eddie’s been invited to Steve Harrington’s kegger under absolutely no pretense (but he’s bringing a pocketful of drugs anyway, of course). Eddie’s going to see the (ex) most popular girl in school there, which’d be you.

And Dio willing, you two are gonna disappear into some side room where he’s gonna trace his leaking cock against every inch of your silky, perfumed skin while you hiss his name into the air like it’s the only word you deem worthy enough to speak.

It’s fine. It’s cool. It’s casual.

Eddie tries to shake that thought right out his head under the guise of turning to the mirror and fixing his hair. Fingertips raking into the waves, an attempt to make ‘em look less… or more… he’s got no idea. He’s got no earthly idea. So he huffs.

“What have I got to be excited about?!” Ronnie sighs dramatically, thunking herself into the nearby armchair in Eddie’s room that’s covered in clothes–outfits he’s tried on, like a different jeans-and-t-shirt combination will actually make a difference. “Don’t pretend like I’m not hauling ass to the first party of my high school career so I can be, like, a freak diversion while you two sneak off and–”

Amazing how Eddie’s managed to keep this secret from Ronnie for this long, but she’s got it pretty much sniffed out anyway.

“No clue what you’re talkin’ about.”

“You, Eddie Munson, you’re gonna stand there, preening yourself in the mirror like a fuckin’ peacock telling me the eye contact you two have been making with each other since you ‘made up’ has been completely Christian-minded? Smell test certified?” Ronnie spits. “I just got into New York University, you little bitch! I cannot be fooled! You boinked and it’s scrawled all over your face in her lipstick!”

“Dude, do not say boinked–”

“You’ve greeted her carnally!”

“--who are we, Sam and Diane?”

“If everybody knows your name, man!”

Look, here’s the thing.

You and Eddie have been making out heavy, stolen moments in crooks like the newspaper room after hours, under the bleachers, the decommissioned bathroom, the driver’s seat of Eddie’s van, grinding it out harder than a couple of drumline dorkos from band which has led to Eddie wrecking a couple pairs of boxers a lot sooner than he’d like to. (Which you hadn’t laughed at him about–you’d liked it. It was so fucking hot that you liked it that just the thought of you liking it makes his breath snag if he thinks about it too hard.)

But. Skin-to-skin contact has been… frustratingly minimal, since that night in your bedroom.

See, it’s like, you get there. Eddie’s lips are edging south of your collarbone, his fingers digging into the flush of your tits through your bra and something snaps in you. You go from rolling those rapturous hips into him (god, fuck, don’t–) to tensing right up, looking over your shoulder, expecting to see a door creaking open.

Fear freezing the edges of your features, even if your touch is still hot on him.

“We should–” “... yeah. Yeah. Of course, Lace.” Eddie’s trying really hard not to be an asshole. But it’s hard when… you’re hard. And you, you get him fucking full mouth salivating, forged in the flames of Mount Doom hard. Those tight little skirts you wear are so much more enticing now that he knows what the heavenly enclave feels like underneath them.

Bu-ut.

Your paranoia is working overtime.

Your paranoia is making his paranoia work overtime.

Because, what if after all your dancing around each other, you don’t actually want him and you’ve got no idea how to let him down gently?

Which, Eddie reassures himself, does not track for you. It’d be pretty damn easy to think that your edges have softened with the events of the past couple months, but he’s had a front row seat to how you’ve shed your old edges to reveal different, weirder, more jagged edges. Edges he’s had a pleasure acquainting himself with. You’d have no problem telling him to take a short walk off Sattler’s Quarry if you wanted to.

Eddie adores that about you, the poor sucker.

Anyway, Ronnie Ecker. Dead to rights. Like always.

“If I tell you…” comes the measured grit through his teeth. “... you have to swear, Ronnie, I’m so goddamn serious–”

She hitches forward in her seat, eyes blazing. “Dude. Scouts. Whatever.”

Eddie’s shoulders drop and it all comes out in one big exhale as his rings drag down his cheeks, “GoodbecauseI’vebeenwantingtotellyousobadohmyGOD. Like, oh my god.”

“So full pen or–”

“Be a gentleman, Ecker, Jesus! But yeah, home fuckin’ run.”

“Good?”

His eyes careen back in his skull and he pitches his palms out like a Pentecostal preacher. “Words… evade. Infernal choirs sang. I left a part of my soul in her–”

“Nope, too much!” Ronnie blanches, waving her hands in the air.

“Okay, okay, okay, but Ronnie– you can’t say shit to her. Promise me.”

“Why? We’re friends too, unless you conveniently forgot again.”

“No, I know that, I just–” Eddie swallows, fingers steepled in front of his mouth. His voice comes out small. “I don’t wanna scare her off. She’s fragile.

“She’s fragile? We’re talking about the same Lacy Doevski here, right?”

“Right, the one whose dad just got out of lockup. Fra-gee-lay,” Eddie emphasizes, notes of Old Man Parker, “It’s just… easier like this, right now.”

“Well… is easy what you want?” Trust Ronnie to come through with a gut punch out of left field.

Eddie’s mouth bobs open to fish out some bullshit answer, but not until his bedroom door flies open.

“Goddamn, kid, you gotta get the maid in here.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Al Munson props his hip against the doorframe, sucking all the air from the room. He looks better than the last time Eddie saw him, at least, not like he’s three days cokebent and clammy. More like he went someplace and got a shave.

“If you really didn’t want me comin’ round, you’d tell your uncle to start lockin’ the door. Now, you got something belonging to me– that Stooges shirt, where’s it at?”

A hot line of panic flares up the back of Eddie’s neck. Stooges shirt, darkened on the shoulders from droplets from your wet hair. Stretched over–

“I’unno what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Yes, you do, Eddie,” his dad says, crossing the bedroom’s threshold. Al’s got springs under the balls of his feet, moving with that irritatingly happy-go-lucky effeteness. “It’s my lucky shirt! I need that thing–”

“Hasn’t done you a whole lotta good so far, Allen,” Ronnie mumbles from where she’s bunched up on the armchair.

“Ronnie,” Al’s eyes narrow; they’ve never liked each other because Ronnie’s too goddamn smart for her own good and therefore uncharmable, “How’zabout that for a breath of stale air. Get up a sec, would’ja?”

“C’mon, we’ve gotta go anyway.” Eddie jerks his head toward the door and Ronnie scuttles out ahead of him. He pauses for a breath, watching his dad rifle through the rejected shirts slung over the armchair. “There’s nothing in here worth stealing, by the way. Just in case things have gone so far south already that you’re diggin’ in people’s pockets for spare change.”

Those cut-and-paste Munson eyes survey Eddie and he feels his fist flex. Al’s been a loose cannon lately.

“Big night?”

“Party.” He should know what that means.

“Well, Ed,” Al closes a few steps between them, and Eddie resists the urge to back up. Or wind up. His voice drops so that Ronnie doesn’t catch it. “When you’re ready to graduate from sellin’ ten spots at parties, you let me know. We got something prestigious brewing. Could be the makin’ of you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh, mirthful from his back molars. “Graduation’s a little ways off for me, Dad.”

He catches up with a tutting Ronnie, slamming the front door behind him and heading for the van.

“Seriously, dude, you got a case for a restraining order the way that motherfucker’s conducting himself lately.”

“I got a crowbar and a map of the Indiana Dunes that’d do just about the same thing, I just need a free weekend.”

“Hey!” a voice calls from behind them, and Eddie and Ronnie swivel toward it.

No stemming the smile that peels across his face, heart thud-thudding back into motion. A soothing cool comes over him at the sight of you, settling him right back into his body. You, dressed to the nines. You, coiffed up like you’re hellbent on making an impression. My little cold front.

“Shotgun!” you chirp, skipping toward the van in your spindly little shoes. Both Eddie and Ronnie are rendered speechless for a beat or two.

Shit, you look good.

“There’s only one fucking passenger seat!” Ronnie protests.

“Fine, Ronnie, I’ll sit in your lap– is that what you want?”

Eddie lets you two nonsensically bicker as he guns the van to life, sweeping out of the park in a thunderous roar. He’s trying to stay tuned into the conversation you’re having, he really is, but the way you’ve got your shoulders thrown back and cleavage thrust out, Ronnie squished beside you, is focus-stealing.

“Wait, you’re volunteering at the beauty pageant?” Eddie finally clues in, “Sorry, Lace, there’s no way that throwing glitter on bimbos in bathing suits counts as community service. Otherwise, I’d be ve-ry committed to my community.”

“Right?! Like, how did I get stuck with helping out Granny’s retirement home friends? I could be checking chicks for visible bra straps but I’m trapped with a bunch of senile losers that smell like clove suckers.”

“It’s not just an ogle-fest, you knuckle-draggers,” you roll your eyes, “There’s an entire interview portion, too. You know, where the judges have to pretend to care about what these girls have to say– and it’s my job to make sure they don’t sound entirely braindead.”

“You love an insurmountable challenge, huh, Lace?”

“Never tell me what I can and can’t mount, Munson,” you purr–he’s almost sure he hears you purr. The way you look at him over the center console, eyes all a-felined, does the job for him.

Ronnie keeps her mouth shut, and he silently thanks her for it.

Festivities are fully in swing as you all pull onto Harrington’s street–plus the festivity-specific problem of there being almost no parking anywhere. Cars of your classmates clog the tree-lined streets, along with the vehicles of the wealthier Loch Nora contingent.

Eddie slaps his hands against the wheel. “How the fuck does he get away with this shit?”

“Senior year pass,” you remark, “Plus, Steve’s always-AWOL parentals. Somehow, his shitty home life gives way to an endless well of sympathy on Richie Rich Row here, so he kind of gets carte blanche.”

“The world’s luckiest latchkey k–woah!”

Reeboked feet have to slam down hard on the brakes, as Eddie almost takes out Robin Buckley, hunching her shoulders and marching toward the Harrington’s porch. The screech of the tires almost sends her leaping out of her skin.

“Watch it, asshole! Pedestrians still exist, you know!”

“Sorry, Buckley!” Eddie calls out down the window wound low, “For what it’s worth, you’re blending into the tarmac just great!”

Robin scoffs and continues stalking. Your head snaps to Ronnie.

“Ron,” you simper, “Why don’t you go make sure Robin’s not suffering from post traumatic? I would be, if I almost got mowed down by this decommissioned tank.”

Her brow screws up like she’s about to answer, but genius little you, this works on a couple of levels. For one, your insistence that something will happen between Buckley and Ronnie if you keep pressing their heads together like Barbies, and for two… Half a second alone.

Half a second is all Eddie needs.

“There’s no way I’m gonna remember where I parked if one of you isn’t here,” he tacks on, as if he needs the support, “And she–” by whom he means you, “--has priors in this house. Off ya go, Ecker.”

Banished to the pavement, Ronnie snarls something about hurrying back, which you promise her that you will. Eddie doesn’t promise anything. If he had his way, he’d rare right out of Loch Nora and keep driving, you to his beautiful right and watch as moonlight started to pool in the window over your skin. Just keep turning the wheel, so he could keep looking at you.

You point out a spot a street over and Eddie kills the engine.

“Hi,” he rasps, angling his torso toward you. He doesn’t stem his smile.

“Hello,” you say in return. Your neck rolls against the headrest. You’re looking at him in a slow drip through your bottom lashes.

Eddie has to remind himself to breathe, and his first intake is kinda ragged. It makes you laugh, this little gaspy sound that sounds like a prelude to something else. Your stare breaks, gliding to the dashboard.

“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

“Let’s shall.”

Eddie snaps back to life, dashing out of the driver’s side to help you down from the passenger’s. Your fingers give his hand a little extra squeeze and he takes this very, very liminal opportunity to hold you at arms length, pirouetting you under his hand.

“Sorry. I’m sorry! I had to!” he faux-apologizes. “Gotta test the durability of these shoes, in case you need to make a run for it later.”

Your laugh comes out uncorked and full-bodied and it makes Eddie feel like his head is levitating two feet above his neck.

“Relieving yourself of your hero duties already, huh?”

Silk spills over your curves, skirt billowing around your thighs as you move. That makes him feel very much in his body. You look ravishing, your hair crashing into a wave as you come to a smiling stop in front of him.

Eddie presses his mouth to your fingers, clasped around his hand, and hears the bubble of your breath hiccup.

“Not by a long shot.”

A warm berry encases your lips that he wants to see smudged. He wants to wear it on his collarbone like a second chain.

He wonders if he knows you look like you’re trying to get ravished.

Of course you do. There’s not a single thing you’ve ever put on your body that wasn’t on purpose.

Which, if Eddie considers it, now includes him.

You both barely remember to unweave your fingers as you approach Harrington’s house.

—

A meticulously curated outfit makes all the difference, especially if you’re reentering society. And you are, in a manner of speaking.

Returning to the scene of the crime, the inciting incident that saw you in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van the better part of a bottle of vodka deep and a bruise blooming. Bridges actively aflame between you and those you once considered your closest friends.

They’d given you the matches though. Flicked them at you, expected you to do nothing.

It occurs to you now, as a lingering touch stays between your and Eddie’s pinkie fingers and you cross the porch, that you hadn’t so much as looked in the rearview mirror to assess the damage. You looked through his windscreen as he drove you home.

“Divide and conquer?”

“I’ll find you.”

Eddie used to exist to you as an eyesore on the peripheries of parties like this. Here, where you always felt you were sitting alone on the observation deck, watching everyone else have fun and learning how to mimic it for your own gain. Patching yourself together. You felt him leering over your shoulder sometimes, separate from it too.

Now, he’s the boy spinning you around on the pavement, looking at you like you’re a whole person.

So this should be interesting.

The two of you shove past a couple of clumping bodies on the doorstep, eyes already starting to dagger in your direction. Into the foyer, towards the kitchen, those looks become more and more and more focused. Feels like you’re wearing piano wire for a choker.

‘What the fuck…’ ‘Remember the last time she was here?’ ‘Woah, smackdown rematch. Somebody get Carol.’

Eddie gets a little closer than he needs to, feigning a stumble into you, just to brush against your hardened shoulders and whisper, ‘Head up, queenie. It’s not like they’ve got a guillotine,’ before he disappears to make rent.

The smile you’re about to sneak to him dies on your lips as your name rings out from somewhere in the milieu, someplace near the kitchen.

“Lacy!”

All that cruising for a parking space and you hadn’t locked eyes on a Ford Cortina, had you?

The tardiest student enrolled at Amherst or wherever half-jogs toward you with a smile that makes your stomach lurch. Cold sweat starts to prick against your hairline. Excuse me?

“Oh! Hi!” you hit a higher octave than you were intending, for sure, you can tell by the look on his face. Eyebrows all shot up. “What the… fuck are you doing here?”

College guy shakes his head a little, confused. “You mentioned you were gonna be here.”

“...and you took that as an explicit invitation?” You’re still technically dating him, dumbass. Smile. “Just kidding! It is. Good. To see you.”

A cursory squeeze of his bicep. Christ, you’re bad at this when you’re not prepared. Extra bad at this when your first thought, when you’re doing bad, is where’s Eddie. When did that symbiosis develop exactly?

“Listen, can we go somewhere?” Oh, Jesus. “Talk? I tried to call your place a little earlier and–” Oh, Jesus! This guy looks at you with earnest eyes that you couldn’t tell the color of if you had a gun to your head. Bodies jostling around you, you make the choice to drop in and act a little left of sober.

“That sounds ah-mazing, but I do have to pee, so,” you shoot him a glimmering smile which ain’t takin’. “Grab me a drink and I’ll find you? Grab me a drink and I’ll find you.”

Bolt! You’re stepping over knees as you weave your way up Harrington’s impossible staircase to the second floor bathroom, downing a shot from a tray on your way. Five minutes inside Mrs Harrington’s immaculately designed proto-modern lavatory should give you enough chutzpah to take on the rest of this night, right? Maybe a fully clothed lie down in the jacuzzi tub.

The ten-girl deep line outside the locked door says different.

From the seventh spot, Carol Perkins cranes her perfectly coiffed strawberry head out and locks eyes with you.

No guillotine, huh?

—

Eddie’s gotta wonder, what the hell the Harrington household looks like when it isn’t throbbing with mainstream radio rock and gyrating teenagers. The house is a showroom of suburban perfection, but whenever Steve throws a party, it goes full bacchanal.

Tonight Eddie intends to take full and rapid advantage of the skewed consciousness of his classmates and copious amounts of jello shooters.

Like, yeah, Harrington might have graciously invited him and not directly asked him to peddle his wares by the pool like a fucked up candy stand, but you gotta seize opportunity wherever you find it. People see him here, they know what to do. They know his purpose.

It’s not as if Eddie’s here to mingle, okay?

Do what they expect of you until you don’t have to anymore.

The short term objective? Empty his stash, stuff his pockets and steal away with you into one of the billion bedrooms this mini-mansion holds. But, much to Eddie’s chagrin, that means fighting through the din of Cyndi Lauper and body odor first.

Conjured by his very words, Andy Sweeney swings right into Eddie’s path and yoinks the beer that Eddie was reaching for. The kid doesn’t even look beyond the brim of his baseball cap to notice he’s standing there. He’s too busy jawing with some other basketball tool.

“Lissen, man, say what you want,” Sweeney burbles, “but Princess Trailer Trash is still totally bangin’.”

Eddie’s ears immediately tune right into their garbled conversation.

“Pssh, dude, I don’t care what anyone says, she was frigid then and she’s frigid now. No way some overgrown virgin like Munson is splittin’ those knees open.”

“Still… bet she misses the finer things in life, y’know?”

“Tchyuh, like you, y’mean?”

“Nah, rich bitches like that get a wettie over the dumbest shit. Hey, how many glasses of Cristal does it take for Lacy Doevski to spread her legs?”

“I’unno, man, how many?”

“Well, if the first one has her face down in the pillow, how’s she gonna be able to tell?”

Bile scorches the back of Eddie’s throat. He doesn’t even mean for it, he actually means for a lot worse, but his hand goes right out and grabs the scruff of Sweeney’s shirt. The despicable little dirtbag. He yelps, a sound pleasing to Eddie but not quite pained enough for what this motherfucker deserves.

“What the fuck, freak?!”

Breath forces itself hard through Eddie’s nostrils. That they think they even have the right to talk about you like that makes him want to leave an Andy Sweeney-shaped hole in the Harringtons’ marble countertop, with some blood and teeth and viscera to match.

“Interesting observation, Andy. It’s incredible to witness how the minds of the shrivel-dicked work,” Eddie seethes, “I personally like to enact my violence face up. Seen Billy Hargrove lately?”

Sometimes, Eddie forgets that he’s actually scary looking. The hair shrouding his face, the big hulking rings, the unsuspecting strength he’s gained from hauling around kegs and amps and the weight of the world… Sometimes, it takes a stiffened flash and a sudden flash of fear in someone like Andy Sweeney’s irises for him to remember.

Sweeney stammers something between a no, please! and get off me!, fighting his own piss-pantsery in order to keep up appearances for his bros.

Eddie grabs the Miller High Life from his hand and shoves him back toward his friends.

“Champagne of beers. You understand.”

Sweeney spits, like physically spits at him. “Fucking loser!”

“Says the guy threatening to roofie a chick!” Eddie barks. “God, I know that your line of work doesn’t exactly require neurons but I’m begging you to rub your remaining ones together and see if it sparks some self awareness, Sweeney– go on, try!”

—

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here.”

“Praying I don’t get a UTI, like everybody else in line.”

“You know what I mean, bitch.”

A category five sigh rolls your shoulders forward, hunching them further down the wallpaper you lean against. Carol has stepped fully out of the line, looking viperous but keeping her distance. Like you might have the good sense to strike back this time.

“Oh my god, Caroline, it’s a kegger. I don’t think you need to RSVP.”

“There’s a strict no freaks policy,” Carol The Bouncer says.

A one noted bark-laugh comes from the fifth position in the line. “Yeah, I think we’re getting a little lenient with that one these days.”

From the mouth of Robin Buckley, who stands there like she did at the last party, against her will but as living proof that even the worst people you knew might not be as bad as you thought.

I know Steve. He’s not exactly made for this crowd either.

“Stay out of this, Lesbo Baggins!”

“Hey!” You force your stiletto off the wall and lose your place in line, since Carol’s begging for it. Fuck that. No more shrapnel. “Leave her alone. This is between us, isn’t it? You and me?”

“And the rest of this town,” Carol’s upper lip curls.

“Refresh my memory,” you say, and the choking vice of Carol’s overly familiar body spray is threatening your jugular. You used to come home from her place reeking of the stuff; the kind of smell that transfers, and carried with it characteristics that you were once proud to have rub off on you. The misery, the misanthropy for everyone but your pocketful of someones. And you and Carol didn’t even like them, most of the time. United in smarting bitterness, the way that girls who want more but can’t seem to get it always are. “What’s the problem, Care?”

“The problem,” Carol snarls, “is you, Lacy. Think just because your daddy’s out of prison that everyone forgot what he did? What you did? I’m watching you, trailer trash.”

You’re close enough that you can see the clumps in her mascara. Why hadn’t she separated them with a needle like you taught her to? The Audrey Hepburn method. It had always freaked her out, you sitting there with a pin that close to her retina, but she’d never looked better.

Doomed to fail, without you by her side.

Spine straightening, you draw yourself over her. In your heels, borrowed from Ivana and gilded with her hardiness, you make Carol look small.

“Yeah?” your voice drops to gravel. “You like what you see?”

—

Brainless Hawkinsite pieces of shit can’t so much as muster a response before they lurch for Eddie. Who the fuck knows what cursed or blessed him with rhythm, but he dodges around the bustling kitchen island with relative ease, before he nearly knocks Steve Harrington himself straight through his own plate glass patio door.

“No runnin’ indoors!” Steve slurs in his face, so close that a fleck of saliva goes straight up Eddie’s nostril. Gross. He’s found a home in the welcome bosom of the jello shot, that’s for fucking sure.

“They started it!”

“I don’t give a fuck! Finish it!”

Gruffly, he casts an eye around the kitchen for those rogue ballsacks– they’d scarpered, probably spooked by the bellow of King Steve. Whatever.

“My attackers seem to have dematerialized, you’ll be delighted to know!”

“Why do you do that? Why do you talk like such a fucking weirdo, man?” Steve asks exasperatedly, clutching onto Eddie’s shoulder a little too roughly for his liking. Not that he’s keen on Harrington pawing him at all. “Like what d–... ughh, forget it! List-en! Where’s your weirdo girlfriend?”

“Ronnie’s not–”

“Who the fuck is–” Steve’s whole pretty boy face screws up and he lets out a genuine groan of anguish. “No, asshole, where is Lacy at?”

“How should I know?!”

“Because your nose is permanently wedged up her ass!” Steve yells, but something draws him back. “Or it should be!”

Incredibly puzzling wording. Eddie shakes his head, wide eyes bewildered at exactly what the fuck Steve wants from him. With a scoff, the man of the house walks into the body-to-body wedge of his hallway and runs, from what Eddie can see, right into…

Your little college boyfriend.

Now… what the sweet and levelling fuck…

Eddie Munson’s activating Shadow Arts, he guesses, because he dips as close to the two of them as he can get without being accused of tailing Harrington this time.

“...hey man, what the fuck are you doing in my house?”

“Haha. Good to see you too, Stevie. Quite the turnout–you the big man on campus now or what?”

“I don’t know, it’s a party. I’m personally having kind of an evolution moment of my own. So. Fuckin’. Whatever.”

“... right.”

“How’s… fuckin’... whatever needledick school it is you go to?”

“Tch, man. I made it about a heartbeat and a hangover through the first semester before I dropped out. Came home around Christmas, much to the disgrace of my parents… But I’m havin’ an alright time, if you catch my drift.”

“Huh?”

“Y’know. High school girls. You can tell them anything, am I right?”

Shit.

Know what, though? Eddie, as he sees it, would be well within his rights to yuk it up at this pernicious turn of events. He’s had a bet running (with himself) that this eyesore in beige you call a college beau, with his ugly fuckin’ car and his stupid collared shirts and his Waiting for Godot or whoever, wasn’t all he was cracked up to be. And not just ‘cause of jealousy, no! Not entirely. Well, okay. But, riddle him this– instead of snorting it up good, thrilled to be able to rub your nose in it, that rotten coil of anger started shifting in his belly again. Why do you think that is?

It’s simple. Eddie knows it’s simple. Because Mister Faux Ivy League has wasted so much of your time.

Time that should have been yours and Eddie’s.

He’s gotta tell y–

“Hey, man. How’s it going.”

“Agh!” Eddie yelps, as running right the fuck into people is apparently the flavor de nuit. Ronnie stands, stockstill and deadpan, behind him. Flanked by Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove.

Eddie makes an exasperated noise of confusion, not even dignifying this apparition with a question.

“They wanna play beer pong,” Ronnie monotones. With a glance down, Eddie can see that her front overalls pocket is filled with empty beer bottles. Apprehension swipes at him. See, his good friend Ronnie? She’s a competitive drunk. She, drunk off Jeff’s dad’s scotch, once trash talked Keith from Palace Arcade to such an eviscerating degree that she got a lifetime ban and he left to work at Family Video. Over a game of fuckin’ Tron.

“We wanna play beer pong,” Hagan echoes.

Hargrove sucks on a cigarette, having finally regained the ability to open his eye. Tragic. “Pong.”

“Why?!” Eddie asks, but more like begs.

“Because they insinuated that I would lose.”

“And we’d like to give the future valedictorian a chance to prove us right,” Hargrove drawls, looking as if he’s trying not to admit to himself that he has to look up to address Ronnie. She’s got a head and a half on him, at least. So many complexes in such a roidy, mulleted package.

Eddie sees that his cheque is signed.

“... Fine. Your funeral.”

—

“All I see is some ex-relevant ex-cheerleader in somebody else’s moth eaten clothes.”

“This is Italian silk, you JC Penney clone-ette.”

“Oh, Italian like a meatball sub or Italian like the mob your dad is part of?”

That sets your teeth on edge. God, Ray Doevski wishes– at least there’d be some valor to it then, capos and all. The reality feels far less shrouded in intrigue. Grimier, somehow.

“Carol, you had the jump on me last time,” you grit, “but I’m stone cold tonight. Either see yourself down the stairs or I will.”

“Are you threatening me, freak fucker?”

“You’d love that, bottom feeder.”

“Lacy! Stop right there, y–”

Earrings clinking as you snap your head around, you watch as a thoroughly ossified Steve Harrington almost brains himself on the top step. Neither you nor Carol nor anyone else reach out to help him, caught red handed in the prelude to a catfight.

“Finally, Jesus!” Carol whinges, “Steve, she’s totally trespassing!”

Panic spikes across your shoulders, quills on a porcupine–are you actually about to get escorted off the premises? That’d be embarrassing, being double-shunned at an open-door Harrington kegger. Eddie hadn’t even managed that dire of a social faux pas and here you are, about to do it for the second time.

“Ow! Shut up, Carol!” Steve decides to steady himself by closing the span of his big hand around your elbow; you both stagger under his wheedling. He’s got a bottle of vodka, cracked, wedged in his other palm. “You and I need to have a little chat.”

And before you can make any attempt to yank yourself away, make a run for it in these stilettos you certainly cannot confidently lift knees it, Steve is pulling you in the direction of his bedroom. A choir of middle school-aged angels that all look like you are singing somewhere as Carol and every other girl in that bathroom line save for Robin enviously glare after you, but you can’t hear it due to being plunged into one of the deeper circles of hell.

“Steven, listen–” You’re not even entirely sure where the full-Christian-name-address comes from, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind when you yank your arm free. “I wasn’t trying to start anything. Not really. I was just…”

Click. Steve locks his bedroom door and turns, staring you down. Well, the best that a drunk teenager with drifting irises could stare one down. You wonder how many Lacys he sees right now. You should ask him to count them, finger on his nose.

“You and I need to have a little chat.”

“You said that already,” but you can’t tell drunk people nothin’.

A remorseful edge around his attempt at a come-hither stare is making you feel a little icky, dawdling on the burning balls of your feet. He looks really bad, actually. The picture of someone trying to sift horniness out of grief or whatever. Steve thrusts one hand through his already scuzzed-up hair, the other jerking the bottle of liquor towards you.

“Have a drink, Lacy, Jesus. Relax, for once.”

You accept the bottle from him. Mostly because it looks as if he’s going to crack you over the head with it if you don’t. The vodka sears going down, same as last time, but there’s not the same urgency to meet everyone else on a level of functioning normal, party girl cool. If anything, the urgency lies in taking the edge off being here.

Particularly in Steve Harrington’s bedroom.

Once upon a time, you’d have mown down half this town in your sporty little Porsche to be sitting right where you’re sitting. But now, under the weight of your own self and Steve’s breakup with Nancy, you’d rather be anywhere else. Anywhere.

“Sit down,” he tells you.

Your eyebrows draw in on instinct, very who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?

Steve scoffs, like he forgot to put on his concerned pantomime. He makes a pretty good go of it, slurring. “Please, Lacy.”

Your knees acquiesce, sinking yourself down onto his checkered bedsheets. The combination of that and the checkered wallpaper is creating an incredible cresting wave of claustrophobia.

“Listen, if this is about Nancy, if this is some harebrained attempt to marionette me into getting her back, I–”

“This is about you ‘n’ me, actually.”

Nope. Opposite day. Fucking Twilight Zone.

“No, it’s not,” you outright refuse. The mattress sags as Steve takes a seat beside you.

“Well, why can’t it be?” Steve’s eyes trail a sticky line up your bare arm as he lies back and props himself up, low on his elbows. However, it’s not eliciting the same amount of alarm that it would if someone like, say, Billy Hargrove were doing it. He’s pathetic, and not in a way you find enticing. “You ‘n’ me, it makes sense. Doesn’t it? Don’t you want it to?”

“No!” You balk with a little more fervor than a then-wounded looking Steve deserves.

“Why not?!” No one says no to the king, of course, especially when he’s this soused.

“Because…” You shake your head, legs crossing on Steve’s bed. A different draft of you, the idea of a girl you had long since scrapped screams at you from somewhere in the very back of your head. You’re ruining it, Lacy–everything we’ve worked for! “You don’t want me. You just feel sorry for yourself. And I’m…”

But luckily, he doesn’t catch the trail-off.

“I’m about to make you feel sorry for yourself,” Steve railroads you.

“How’s that?” Another slug of vodka…

“Well,” he struggles to keep himself propped up, “my girlfriend Eddie and your boyfriend Nancy? Recreationally copulating. How d’ya like that.”

… comes right out your nose.

author's notes: so i once again scrapped the idea of a mega chapter because i wanted to give you guys something in case i have to disappear because i start my new job tomorrow! sweating and pissing and crying. but being able to afford to move out soon will be good. anyway, i love writing a good party scene so expect this to leak right into chapter 12 too. onto the fun stuff: - naming carol's mother ann perkins is a not-so-subtle nod to parks and recreation but the characterization couldn't be further off lol - attention all american teen princesses, i found drop dead gorgeous in full on youtube - the debate team captain in question, kate something-or-other, is in fact the very same kate that appears in rebel robin as robin's now-ex best friend - doctor, she's self-referencing again, this time about the time ivana threw an olive at norman mailer - i had to look up the origin of the term 'boinked', and it turns out it comes from cheers! congrats sam and diane - boners forged fire to table straight from mount doom - fra-gee-lay. it must be italian - that's two for one LOTR references if you count lesbo baggins - i am once again pretending to understand things about dnd - i can't mention *jeff bridges voice* TRON! without watching clips of jeff bridges doing things. it's so cliche to cast him as my reefer rick but bitch the heart wants that's all for now, folks! thanks again for reading and pls do reblog and comment and send me asks and things to keep the spirit of this silly little story alive. we're amping up. love u hellcats x

#published by powder #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x f!oc #eddie munson fic #e. munson by powder #l. doevski by powder #hellfire & ice #in progress

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