#Drunken teen

[steddieunderdogfics]

our house (in the middle of our street) by fivecenturiesverse

Rating: Teen and Up

14,489 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: POV Steve Harrington, Asexual Relationship, Kinda, idk that happened, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Lesbian Robin Buckley, Bisexual Vickie (Stranger Things), Implied Sexual Content, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Disabled Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Domestic Fluff, Literal Sleeping Together, Sharing a Bed, steve harrington match maker, mom and dad steve and eddie, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Good Babysitter Eddie Munson, Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Confessions, Flirting, Not Beta Read, robin and steve codependency, Roommates, Living Together

Summary:

He's in the market for a house, it's not his fault the Creel Murder House is the cheapest place he can find. It's kind of the perfect house, really, Steve's got a big family.

Eddie fumbles in rolling the blunt. They’re sitting in Eddie’s room while he rolls on the tray balanced on his knees. “You’re — you’re giving me a key?” “Yeah. I don’t know if you want to move out of here but uh… option is there if you uhm, need it?” He stays staring at Steve, fingers paused over the tray like the ridiculous caricature of a stoner caught red handed by the cops. “For real? What about rent?” “Yeah man, of course. I know you haven’t been sleeping great here for obvious reasons and like, a new place isn’t going to help that much but…” He shrugs. “Got more rooms than I know what to do with, so fuck rent. I’m getting keys for you and Rob next week and maybe some for the kids, I don’t know if I trust them with keys to my house.”

This is a MOD rec as a part of our Fic Fridays.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[nyxi-pixie]

thinking abt this again.

[lakemichigans]

whenever someone needs to give dean a job in an AU they always go with mechanic but let's make some noise for street racer dean

[starlightvld]

My Love is Like an Apple Pie

A fic with chapters based on the Sheith in Autumn prompts.

Chapter 7/7: A cowboy success story

A night of Halloween fun with friends ends on a sweet and hopeful note for the future.

Fic is complete!

[therosevest]

be so serious with me. do you think that shared trauma caused by interdimensional violence and death and government conspiracies and survivor’s guilt would seriously be outweighed by a petty high school breakup.

[goldshadows]

@unbearablyindifferent / teen verses sc.

" i can explain. " she's home way past curfew with no heads-up whatsoever. to be fair, her phone had gotten lost in the midst of all the chaos of finding out she can in fact get drunk from terran alcohol. " i was having so much fun and i forgot the time. "

[thedailyvio]

Day 2

[ipwarn]

I thought I disliked late night evacuations before. It sucks even more when you have covid. 

[dpmultibitches]

The idea of Stark Industries and Wayne Enterprises being rivals but Tony and Bruce's Brucie persona being relatively good friends when they were younger bc of running in the same circles is honestly hilarious to me

[idabbleincrazy]

I'm being plagued by the mental image of Lex singing Limp Bizkit's Nookie while Clark watches on in increasing horror. 😆😅

[beeseverywhen]

I think we should be able to add comments. Like you do with a word doc. Fair enough don't bring back editing. But every reblog should show a little thing to click on saying that I've had ideas since so I can be like. 'PS. I wrote this when I was drunk'

I think tumblr should have a feature where if a post gets over 1000 notes it automatically adds a banner to the bottom reading: Stop! Before responding, have you considered that this post may have been written for the audience of the blogger's immediate followers and they did not carefully calibrate each sentence to eliminate all potential misunderstandings like they were bargaining with a particularly literal-minded demonic entity? Ok thanks :)

[teamred]

obvious

✩‌ merchant!qimir x acolyte!reader | fluff | angst | humor | 2.3k

SUMMARY | during an evening of drinking with qimir, he strangely asks if you've ever thought about dating your master.

WARNINGS | kissing, drinking, implications of a spicy time post-story

RATING | teen+

NOTES | again this is probably outside of canon but all i can say is ilq (i love qimir)

///

In the lower level of Qimir’s newest target of a store invasion, several drunken bottles of alcohol and used shot glasses clutter the front counter. You sit across from him on a high stool, as if you were a customer to his bartending. 

Which wasn’t quite far off, since he was the one who poured and bought everything for you tonight. Qimir had called for a celebration; you had successfully raided a small village nearby, seizing all valuable goods and leaving no witnesses behind. You did it for yourself, but also for your anonymous master–the same one Qimir serves. 

While you are your master’s dedicated pupil, Qimir’s tasked with being your resourceful guide. He follows you across the galaxy, always having anything you need at your disposal and knowing where to go, who to find, and how to concoct everything from anything.

Sure, he may be clumsy and occasionally overly inquisitive, but you’ve grown to like him. 

So much that you're retelling the time when a female Gungan tried to fight you in a cantina on Tatooine.

“And so, it turned out they thought I was the one who stole her ex-boyfriend, but it was the human at the table next to mine!”

Qimir breaks into a smile and nearly spits out the lomin ale in his mouth. After a fit of coughing and swallowing his drink, he shakes his head fondly. He seems truly amused and fully relaxed, though perhaps mostly due to the alcohol.

A few beats pass. It's a comfortable silence at first. 

But then he starts playing with the stem of his bottle, and the air slowly begins to shift. It shifts entirely when he asks the next question–

“Why aren't you like this around him?” 

Him referring to your shared master. 

The mixture of spicebrew, lomin ale, Corellian wine, and whatever else you had has lowered your filter completely. You answer frankly, folding out your fingers to list the reasons. 

“Firstly, he needs to get me drunk. Secondly, he’s not you, Qimir. And third, disregarding everything I just said: how do you know I'm not?”

“Am I wrong?” he presses, his eyes fixed on you as he raises an eyebrow and takes another swig of his drink.

“I mean, if he eventually shows his face to me, maybe I could. But until then…” 

Nonchalantly, you lift a shoulder and down the rest of what’s in your cup. After finishing, you lean back onto the counter, resting your chin in your upturned palm, and wait for him to fill your cup again. 

And so he does, but Qimir becomes uncharacteristically pensive. Eyes focused on serving you, rather than on you. After pouring your drink, his playfulness with the bottle turns into a tight-fisted grip. Maybe drunk Qimir was more somber. Quiet.

“Maybe…” His voice drops to a lower, deeper register than you’re used to, his eyes avoiding yours as his mouth tightens. An index finger rhythmically taps against his bottle, like a dooming countdown. “Maybe he’s not sure if you’re loyal enough to see his face.” 

The sudden slamming of your cup against the counter breaks his demeanor, and he’s back to being his usual, easily-startled self. 

“Well, that frustrates the shit out of me because I respect him!” you cry, almost yelling at him. 

Qimir’s gaze sharpens, giving you his entire attention, and you stare back resolutely. Readying yourself, as if confiding in him might reach your master’s ears, wherever he may be. Hell, he probably was listening with a device somewhere on Qimir, on you, or within the store.  

“I obey him. I've killed for him. I’d do anything for him,” your voice slightly wavers, but you push on. “I am literally devoted to him with every breath in my body.” 

There’s a sting in your eyes, but you refuse to let yourself show weakness, even if it’s just Qimir in front of you. Bringing the cup to your mouth, you let the burn scald your throat, drowning any trace of sadness or frustration. 

You chug for some time. After a while, Qimir lifts a hand, but you abruptly stop drinking and interject with a tired chuckle and small smile; he awkwardly drops his hand. 

The serious moment passes swiftly with a twinkle in your eye. You silently thank the alcohol for that.

“Although, maybe that's half a lie.”

In the corner of your vision, you catch the intrigued quirk in Qimir’s eyebrow, along with a flicker of anger. Barely noticeable, but it’s there, and you wonder why he would be angry.

You waggle a finger. “Keep this between us, but”—you lean in closer and drop your voice to a whisper—“I'm probably more devoted to you than to him.”

You exchange a glance, and the expression on his face shifts from seriousness to amusement, the flicker of anger completely dissipated. He mirrors your earlier stance, resting his chin in his palm. 

“That's only because I help you all the time,” he says, granting you a soft smile that reaches his eyes. 

This is a rare moment from Qimir, so you try your best to commit it to memory. Remembering his warm glow, the crinkles around his eyes, and how close he is to you. So close that the hint of the alcohol in his breath brushes your face, but it’s not as strong as you thought it would be.

“Well, there's that…” you admit, nodding, and you break eye contact as you say–

“But you're also my friend, Qimir.”

You barely breathe the last few words out in a whisper, almost as if you were ashamed to say it. But you aren’t–worry merely runs rampant as you fear rejection or something of a similar shade, despite it being just a platonic confession. 

“I am?” 

His reaction causes you to peer back at him. He draws his head back with a tilt, and you’ve never seen him so puzzled before. There’s a brief pause as he gives it some thought, his eyebrows furrowing in contemplation.

Then, he nods his head and his lips curl into a crooked, almost cocky, grin. 

“Huh. I guess I am.”

You clutch your chest in jest and muster your best puppy-eyed frown. “Ouch, if I knew this relationship was that one-sided, I would’ve asked him for another one of his followers to replace you.” 

The glimmer in his eyes reads as good-natured, but the blatant flexing of his grip against the edge of the counter says otherwise. 

“You wouldn't.”   

You push back, jutting out your chin and getting close to him again with a flash of a smirk. 

“Oh, I absolutely would.”

You stare at each other, holding your ground. 

But then he breaks the little game when he slightly drags his lower lip between his teeth, followed by a fleeting glance towards your mouth.

Your breathing hitches. 

In an instant, the moment shatters when Qimir clears his throat and pulls back.  

“Do you…” Qimir begins hesitantly, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing a random spot on the counter. He inhales deeply, almost as if he’s steeling himself, then continues, “Have you ever thought you and him could be, like, something more?”

“You mean…” You squint, searching for the right words. “...have I ever thought about dating my master?” 

“Mm-hmm.” 

You raise an eyebrow and stare blankly at him. 

“You've met him, right? We’re talking about the same guy?”

Before he answers, he sips again from his bottle. You become entranced by Qimir’s Adam’s apple as it bobs with each glug. Maybe these thoughts were being filtered through beer goggles, but if Qimir wanted to know about your current ranked dating choices, he'd probably be at the top of your list. 

A soft pop sounds as his lips detach from it. The word kissable flashes through your mind. 

“I mean, I know he's not really the talkative type but–”

“But what if he's butt-ass ugly?” you blurt out in a screech, pressing your hands into your cheeks in your drunken state.

“He is not butt-ass ugly,” Qimir cuts in, more defensively than you expect. 

You drop your hands and chortle loudly, so much that it echoes throughout the store. In disbelief, you grin ear to ear. 

“I thought you said you haven't seen him before!” you say, holding out an arm. 

“I—I didn't. Haven't! I haven’t,” he stammers, raising a hand and shaking his head. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair. “But why must you assume he's ugly?”

You groan, shaking closed fists and tapping them to your forehead. “Why else wouldn’t he take off that stupid mask?” 

You glance up, seeing Qimir’s nostrils flare as he opens his mouth, but you quickly cut him off. 

“And why would I like him that way anyway? All he does is just bark orders and share wise, yet oddly cryptic, phrases.” 

“Hey, so do I,” Qimir retorts, flicking the tip of your nose with his finger. The force he uses makes your nose sting a bit, but you’re sure he didn’t mean to flick you that roughly. In response, you ruffle your nose petulantly. 

You could definitely get used to being like this with Qimir more often. 

“Yeah, but you’re not as cryptic,” you point out, “and he’d be lucky if he was half as handsome as you, Qimir.”

You lightly touch his arm, expecting him to bask in your compliment, but he catches you off guard with a chuckle instead. 

“Why are you laughing at my compliment?” you ask, somewhat hurt.

“I'm just enjoying your company, my”—he hesitates for a second, as if catching himself from saying something else, before meeting your gaze—“my friend.” 

The way he says friend hangs in the air, carrying an unspoken weight. He shakes his head, as if brushing off a thought, and laughs awkwardly. “I’ve gotta get used to that.”

Surprisingly, he continues to dwell on the subject of you and your master. “I mean, if you really think about it, the guy's probably lonely. Probably also likes you a lot more than he lets on and–”

“Okay, stop.” You hold both hands out. “Why are you trying to set me up with him?” You gasp, “Oh, my god–is he your brother?” 

“Wow, time flies by so fast!” Qimir exclaims dramatically, quickly getting up from his stool and practically tripping on his own feet. “It’s getting late, and I’m gonna head to bed. Good night!” 

In the blink of an eye, he’s already darting upstairs to his temporary bedroom. 

“Qimir, answer me!” you call out. “Is he a distant cousin? You must’ve seen him before if he’s related to you.” 

“Good night, my friend!” he hollers back.

“Qimir, get back here!”

“Sweet dreams! And drink some water before you go to bed!” 

Even in moments like these, Qimir still manages to have the final say, his words always laced with the utmost care for you.

///

A few hours go by, the moonlight shining strongly in the night sky. In the comfort of your makeshift bed nestled in one of the corners of the store, you toss and turn aimlessly. Your mind replays everything with Qimir from the last few hours.

And then realization hits you like a sack of duracrete bricks.

You bolt upright up from the bed and switch between muffling a scream in your pillow and smacking it against your face. 

How could you have been so blind to how obvious it all was?

Throwing aside your covers, you carefully and quietly tiptoe upstairs. 

At the top of the stairs, with the help of a few burning candles nearby, you peek at the sight of Qimir snoring softly on his side, arms flopped in different directions; it warms your heart.

You approach and take a seat on the empty side of his bed, summoning courage to gently trace the contours of his face, following the sharp lines of his jaw. He stirs awake moments later, turning to face you directly. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Qimir mumbles groggily. He rubs his eyes. “Everything all right?” 

“Qimir, can you pass a message onto my master?” you ask urgently. 

“Right now?” he groans in annoyance, sitting up. “Can't it wait until morning?” 

“No, I'm sure you can pass it on now. It’s a pretty simple message.” 

You lean in. It’s a quick kiss as your hand rests on his arm. It has to be quick, or else you might change your mind. 

Plush lips press against yours. It’s still and tense for a beat, and then he replies with a slight kiss back. He’s the one who breaks away first, but he leans his forehead against yours.

“Uh, I… You want me to kiss him?” he asks in confusion. 

You slide your hands to the nape of his neck.

“If you mean kissing yourself, then yes, Master.” 

Like flipping a switch, Qimir’s demeanor transforms into something entirely else. His presence intensifies, exuding confidence and strength you’re unused to. His eyes darken, locking onto yours with a gaze that can penetrate your soul. 

His rich, deep voice returns from before, now tinged with authority.

“Took you long enough, my acolyte.”  

This Qimir—your master—moves swiftly with urgency. His grip on your body is firm, almost possessive. His kisses are passionate, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor. 

“Told you I'm not ‘butt-ass ugly,’” he mumbles, almost growling, between kisses. You giggle, but your giggle quickly turns into a moan as he presses his body firmly into yours.  

“And my mask isn’t stupid. I'll have you know it saved me so many–”

You silence your master with another kiss, focusing on the present and pushing aside debates that could be saved for later.

For now, all you want is to remain in the comfort of his bed, letting the night truly begin, marking the beginning of what your master and you have unknowingly long awaited for. 

[woso-dreamzzz]

Menor's Halloween

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The second of my Halloween-centric fics

Alexia grins as she looks at herself in the mirror, straightening out her skirt and putting the finishing touches on her makeup.

The family Halloween party has been a staple ever since her childhood, bringing the family back together every year without question.

It was basically a rule at this point, something no one could get out of and chosen to take place on a day when no one has an excuse to be elsewhere.

"Are you ready yet?"

It's Olga's first time at the party, unable to make it the past few years. She's gone fairly conservative with her outfit, a generic Halloween costume of a zombie cheerleader.

Alexia can forgive her though because originally Olga hadn't been able to come until her meeting in Madrid was cancelled last minute so she had to buy the unpopular costume from the store.

Alexia, on the other hand, has had her costume planned out for months with everything ironed to perfection.

"Ready!" Alexia calls out," I just need to find-"

"The bag is on the table where you left it last night."

Alexia grabs the bag from the table, swinging it over her shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of the car.

Family events like this one normally end up with a lot of drinking and, while she wouldn't usually partake, Alexia's already planned to allow herself a few more drinks than normal.

Olga's decided to take up the driving home duty to let Alexia drink however much she wants.

"I'm nervous," Olga says, straightening out her cheer skirt and rubbing at her face - though she grows a little annoyed when the face paint rubs off onto her fingers.

"Don't be nervous," Alexia says," You've met everyone before."

"I know but...Halloween party seems more official."

"They'll probably already be drunk," She replies," And try to ply your with pizza. Or paella. Depending on if my aunt cooked or my uncle convinced her to order in."

"Sounds delightful."

"That's the spirit!"

Alexia knocks on the door, greeted by the slightly tipsy face of her cousin when it opens.

He giggles a little, a sure-fire sign he's been drinking. "I-I thought you were already here." He bursts into more hysterical laughter after that and Alexia gets the feeling that she's not in on the joke.

"And you've brought the wonderful Olga! Come in! Come in! Can I interest you in some pizza?"

"So Tio convinced her?"

"No. Mama cooked. Papa just ordered in anyway! Off you go now, Ale. I want to talk to your girlfriend!"

He pulls Olga away without another word and Alexia rolls her eyes.

"Gee, I love you too. Typical."

Alexia rolls her eyes fondly, easily losing her cousin and girlfriend in the crowd of family members either halfway to drunk or already firmly there.

A giggling hiccup has Alexia turning to see another one of her cousins by the fridge.

"I could have sworn you were already here," She says, giggling and Alexia sighs.

"Alright, what am I missing here? You're the second person to tell me that."

Her cousin giggles again, downing another vodka shot and shooting Alexia a drunken smile. "Just that I could have sworn you came with Tia Eli today. Though...you did seem a little shorter."

She giggles off before stumbling away but she's already given Alexia all the information that she needs.

She picks her way through her family members, stopping briefly to say hello to the aunt and uncle who are hosting and then her mother before finally seeing who she's been looking for.

"Is that my shirt?!" She demands," And my armband?!"

You turn around, eyes wide. An answer is on the tip of your tongue before you take in what she's wearing.

"Is that my skirt?! Are those my rackets?!"

"Don't change the subject!" Alexia says," You've dressed as me for Halloween?!"

"You dressed as me!"

"That's different."

"How?"

"It-It just is!"

Alexia takes you in as she steps back. You've got your hair done up in her usual ponytail rather than your regular braids. You've got her full Barcelona kit on along with the armband and her boots. You've even brought a football with you just in case people didn't realise who you were meant to be.

Alexia, on the other hand, had gone out of her way to dress like you. She's wearing one of your tennis skirts and your Nike shirt. She's got her hair in your usual braid with your Barcelona cap and even the gold shoes Nike gave you for your Olympic run. She's got a racket bag over her shoulder, full of the old rackets you'd left at home before your move abroad.

You seem to be taking Alexia in just like she's taking you in before nodding.

"Those are the replica shoes, right?" You check.

"Yeah. They cost a lot though. You're quite the superstar. That isn't one of my hattrick balls is it?"

"No, just one of the ones you leave lying around at Mami's."

Alexia nods. "Good. You look good though."

"Thanks, I practiced your haughty look a lot."

Alexia rolls her eyes. "I don't have a haughty look."

"You so do all 'I'm Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona, the best team in the world'."

"But I am Alexia Putellas and I am captain of Barcelona which is the best team in the world. I won the Ballon D'or twice, you know."

"Yeah, well I won all the Grand Slams. And the Olympics."

"Now, now," Alexia says," This isn't a bragging match. Because if it was, I'd win." She reaches for you, trapping you in a headlock and rubbing her knuckles against your head. "Which one of us has more awards?"

"Only because you're an old woman now. By the time I'm your age, I'm going to be the greatest tennis player in the world."

"Yeah," Alexia teases," Aim high."

You grin at her, shoving her away before trying to tackle her to the floor. She doesn't move an inch but you had been expecting that.

"I guarantee I can score more goals on you than sets you can win against me."

Alexia laughs.

"The garden's free. Want to test that theory?"

You grin. "Well, don't start crying when you lose."

[r3starttt]

OBLIVIATE | 01

ellabs x reader | series m.list | > CHAPTER TWO

CW: modern!au. +18 content. poly relationship. POC friendly. | dom! ellabs x sub! reader. college encounter (study session). praising. overstim. edging. threesome. finger sucking. fingering.

SUMMARY: College life quickly became overwhelming with drunken teens, constant disruptions, and the flaunting of wealth, pushing you to prefer solitude until you found yourself striving for perfection, craving approval, and immersing yourself in that lifestyle despite initially finding it insufferable. As summer break approached, exam stress mounted, but hey, now you've got some help.

CHERRY COLOURED FUNK

You were born to be perfect. So were they. Perhaps that's why you bonded so effortlessly.

The day was warm, and all you could think about was reaching your dorm, meeting your roommate, and escaping the suffocating presence of your family. A bunch of privileged stupid individuals who brought you to this esteemed institution just to counter anyone who dared to question their, and soon your, intellectual superiority by flaunting your attendance at a very prestigious college.

Two kisses, one on each cheek. Your mother's final words were, "Don't take any of this too seriously." Little did she know what lay ahead. In fact, little did you know too.

Your room was dull, far more formal than you had anticipated. Sunlight streamed through the plain brown curtains. It felt a bit suffocating even.

Voices echoed from all directions, all comming from what seemed like the main garden.

One voice in particular caught your attention as you peeked through the curtains.

A tall blonde girl stood out, a sweater draped over her shoulders with its arms knotted in front of her chest. She wore a brown t-shirt that clung to her toned frame and a pair of vintage jeans.

Beside her was a shorter auburn-haired girl, a cigarette in hand. Her attire was less conservative.

Even from their hairstyles, you could tell which one came from a rich family and which one didn't care about it. the blonde had her hair neatly braided; the other sported a messy bun.

You met the blonde's eyes, her grou still talking and laughing ridiculously loud. She murmured something to the girl on her side. You could tell she wanted to look too.

You closed the curtains, hoping the day would end quickly.

-

One week into college, you were already overwhelmed. Drunken teens roamed everywhere, not even the fun kind. There was constant joking and bossing around. Classes were frequently interrupted by wealthy kids flaunting their impunity. 'I'm the reason you have a job'

That's one of the main reasons so far you've decided to stay on your own. Having private aproachments with some teachers at the end or beggining of the class, making sure they knew you. Also making yourself comfortable in the library, religiously before going back to your dorm to sleep.

"Is this seat taken?" You barely heard the question, too absorbed in the music playing through your headphones. You shook your head, moving your chair and books to make space for whoever wanted to sit next to you, in the nearly empty library. Guess the luck was over.

As you took your headphones off you immediately recognized who they were. Have you got yourself in trouble just by looking at them?

"We wanted to approach to you since the first day, but you always seem busy" the blonde one spoke. She seemed quite sophisticated, from the way she talked to the way she sat. It did a nice contrast with her appearance, built and big.

"She's been kind of stalking you." The auburn sitting in front of you both spoke. She looked like the type of girl everyone wants to be friend with. And maybe she was considering she had got herself way too comfortable with you already. Teasing and moving her legs over the chair.

The girl next to you simply rolled her eyes, clearly embarrassed by the not so fake admission.

"So, I'm Abby... uhm, Anderson. And she's—" the auburn interrupted, introducing herself "Ellie"

"Williams" Abby finished for her.

-

Months went by after that first interaction.

You realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.

But it all turned into an obsession. You craved perfection, setting impossible standards for yourself and others that you felt like achieving, and desperately needed everyone's approval. More specificly, Abby's and Ellie's approval.

So you spent days and nights with them and their friends, sitting on their laps so they could show you off. Letting them put their hands on your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans whenever you walked.

Going to parties with them, getting drunk, and hating yourself for every drop of alcohol that entered your body, knowing you had class the next day.

At first, it was insufferable. Yet it didn't take long for you to adjust.

You started to understand why rich kids acted the way they did. The more time you spent with them, the more you enjoyed it.

You convinced yourself there could never be a better thing than partying until you vomited and making out with the girls you trusted most. You somehow felt safe.

You also realized that the only way to be perfect in your parents' eyes was to embrace this lifestyle, which was probably the only reason you gave them a chance on the first place.

-

Summer break was closer each day and you needed them attached, so far everything was about study sessions, breaks to eat together or rest. Exam season was a nuisance you didn't quite contemplate and you needed to get the job done.

Heavy eyelids stared unfocused at the floor of your dorm. underneath your bed a dark red rug being graced by your suck covered feet. dancing along the fabric.

Ellie was sitting on the floor, already reading through a study guide you had made. She had her head resting on her knee, her eyes scanning the paper spread out on the floor and her pencil on her mouth. A hum escaped her lips as she wrote down what seemed like the answer.

It was the first time you ever accepted their help. Probably the first time you've let them in your dorm, at least sober.

Abby, beside having you comfortably sitting on her, had her glasses on, reading what seemed like theory for another subject. She didn't really need to study much but there was nothing else to do if Ellie was the genius here. Plus she barely got the note to pass that subject last year.

"What's exactly troubling you?" Ellies voice broke your trance.

What really was troubling you wasn't something you could just say out loud. You knew why Abby was here, and it bothered you. Were you ready for this? For them?

You turned your head towards Ellie, processing her words before answering, "uhh I don't- how're you supposed to do-" you gently brushed abbys hand off your waist, sitting next to ellie and pointing to the part of the process you've got lost on.

Abby didn't hesitate, simply gibing your hip a soft squeeze. But you could feel her looking at you, then looking at Ellie and again at her book.

You spent at least the next 8 hours doing exercise over exercise nonstop. Until your eyes felt heavy and your back could barely hold your head up. You needed a break.

You decided to take a look at Abby once Ellie stood up to grab something to eat. It was cheesy of you, but knowing she liked to constantly chew on something, you had bought a few gummies for her.

Abby knew just by the look on your face that you needed something. "Come here," she said, patting her lap.

Her action elicted a smile on you, sheepishly standing from where you had all day sitting. Your bare foot made the wooden floor crack at each step you took closer to Abby.

"You're taking break?" She spoke soothingly to your ear. Taking her glasses off and widening her legs so you could comfortably swing your legs in between hers. You nodded

Her hand patted on the side next to you, confused you shifted your gaze towards the matresss. Ellie came from behind you, grabbing your waist briefly before sitting next to you. You could hear her chewing.

"Don't get to overwhelmed yeah? So far you've done good, and-" Abby's fingers intertwined with yours, dragging your hand to her lips and leaving a soft kiss against your knuckles. "Ellie's gonna be there for you"

Her words did make you forget about your worries for a moment. But you knew if you failed any exam, you'll be proving your family you were just like them, you'll be making them pay a ridiculous amount of money to pretend nothing ever happened. And you could allow yourself that.

"Hey" Ellie spoke, her hand resting on your shoulder "Abby's right, don't overhtink it, yeah?"

You pressed your lips together. Unable to brush your thoughts away. "Let her help you" instictively your eyebrows furrowed at Ellie's words.

Her eyes met Abby's, followed by your own, just now realizing what she meant. "Fucking horny, Ellie" you laughed it off.

Abby kissed you first. It wasn't the first time she did. But you knew this was different. Ellie, as usual, just followed.

's okay if you don't want to' Ellie whispered. Her hands underneath your shirt as you had your back pressed against her chest. Abby had her lips against your neck, her hands gripping at the flesh on your thighs.

"We're taking a break, right?" You replied, making her smile grow. She hummed in agreement, leaving a trail of wet kisses on the other side of your neck.

"Lay down" Abby spoke between kisses. You had to push Ellie away to obbey her order. You could tell by how her breath hitched and how hungrily she pressed her lips against your skin. Ellie had probably dreamt about this.

Both grabbed each side of your body, laying on their respective sides. Abby's fingers dragging your leg bettwen her own making sure you couldn't move it. Ellie did the same with the opposite one.

Her hands desperately took your shirt off, undoing your jeans and making enough space in between your legs.

You were ridiculously wet already. Feeling abby trace her fingers along your chest, moving your bra underneath your breasts.

Her fingers toyed with your nipple, her teeth against your skin. Ellie kept on sucking at your other breast with such hunger she had already made a mess, her kisses sloppy and wet.

Abby trailed a path down your stomach. Feeling every inch of your skin until she got to the hem of your panties.

Her eyes hadn't missed a single reaction of yours. Your head pressed against the matress, wanting to close your leg; aching for the smallest friction against your clit. And she was willing to give her girl just what she wanted.

"Ellie" Abby mutters, making her turn her attention to her. Just with the look on her eyes, Ellie understood.

Her hands moved under Abby's, chuckling against your skin "You're so wet" your breath hitched at her words. The feeling itself. It was all too overwhelming.

Ellie made sure to rub her fingers against your clothet core. Pressing over it, feeling your arousal grow at every move Abby made against your clit.

Your lips let out pleads to both, their names comming out in a shaky acute tone.

"Shhh you can take more babe" Ellie coos. Your answer being interrupted by Abby abruptly taking her hand off your clit.

Her now wet fingers gently tugging at your hardened nipple again, pinching such sensitive bud between her fingers. 

"Keep them wide for me, yeah?" Ellie's lips pressed against yours before you felt her fingers inside your underwear.

She starts slow, harshly rubbing circles over your clit. Abby's fingers travelling to your mouth to keep you shut, her mouth licking on your skin, eventually letting out gentle praises for you. 'such a good girl'

You moan and whine, gaging on her fingers. "Doing so good for us" Abby whispers, meeting your face. She looked so proud, seeing you all fucked up, your pretty lips around her fingers.

And you suddenly joint. Ellie's fingers inside you already, thrusting your core with ease. "Hear that" Ellie remarks shaking her hand in disbilief, Abby laughs with her, mocking you and how desperate you've got for them. "So wet, huh?"

The grip Abby had on your stomach looses, feeling her hands slowly sliding down on your clit, toying with it again at an unsteady peace, slowing down each time she hears your breath go faster, every time she sees your stomach clenching or whenever she feels you pulsating.

You shut your eyes close, unable to do anything else than let yourself get drunk on pleasure.

Ellie's whines overlap with your own. Feeling herself grow wet at each thrust she makes on your cunt. Feeling you clench around her, feeling your arousal making a mess on her hand.

"You can take it baby" just hearing Abby's voice makes you want to sob. "P-Please" you whine, your hands clenching around nothing, feeling yourself closer to the orgasm you so much desire.

"Oh you're gonna cum for us?" Abby coos. Smiling at your breathless cries. "She's so close" Ellie murmurs, feeling your walls tight around her fingers.

"Y-Yeah" your eyebrows knitted together as Ellie's thrusts became erratic. Abbys fingers still overstimulating your puffy clit, scissoring your folds just to not give you all the pleasure.

You cry as you reach your climax, feeling a warm hand against your cheek. "Shh shh"

Their hands tease you just a few seconds after you've reached your high. Feeling you shake underneath them. Your thighs jumping one last time before they let go.

Your eyes open, noticing your erratic breath show underneath your falling chest.

Ellie's fingers move with ease toward Abby's lips, and she simply takes them, licking your arousal off her hand.

"Fuck" you breath out, resting your head against the matress again, laying between them.

Reblogs and Comments very much appreciated!!!

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[covetyou]

kissogram

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pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Teen (18+ only blog!) warnings: drunk Joel, soft possessive Joel, lovesick Joel, wingman Tommy, fluff, idiots in love and in denial word count: 1.8k summary: A familiar sound wakes you from the soft slumber you'd not long fallen into - sounds you'd dreamed about in the months since meeting Joel Miller. This time, as you creep down the stairs to come face-to-face with your intruder, you can be certain it's not a man decked out in plush red velvet.

A/N: happy birthday to Joel Miller, happy TLOU day to us, and, most importantly, happy GOD DAMN IT ARE YOU CLOSE TO SAYING YOU LOVE EACH OTHER YET day to these two babies.

I'll be back with more dress up!Joel in 5 weeks 💛

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A familiar sound wakes you from the soft slumber you'd not long fallen into. The click of a door. The woosh of your house decompressing. Muffled footsteps. They were sounds that your own ears hadn't heard in months, and yet ones you'd heard a hundred times over in your dreams since that first day you met Joel, decked out in plush red velvet in front of your Christmas tree.

It's why, when you fully come to and pull yourself up onto your elbows, you find yourself blinking in confusion in the dark. Dreams and reality are tricky things to figure out when you're on the precipice of both. And, while the sound of foreign footsteps on your living room floor was something you dreamed about - fantasized about - a feeling of unease is quickly creeping up your spine the longer you listen to the hushed tones coming from downstairs.

Whatever - whoever - it is, isn't even trying to be discreet, not by the way your door suddenly slams and something rattles against the wall.

You don't even try to be discreet either, jumping from your bed and stomping over to the door. It's stupid, maybe. Probably.

Almost definitely.

The first time may have worked out well for you by creeping down to find Joel in your house, but that didn't mean any other break-in was going to go as well for you. Now, all these months later, you didn't even have your old umbrella to arm yourself with as you throw open the door and fly downstairs, hoping the element of surprise will save you.

Slamming your hand against the wall, you drench your living room in artificial light so suddenly your eyes can barely adjust before you're screaming out into the room in a feeble attempt to scare off your intruders.

"Get ou- what the fuck?!"

"Jesu-"

"Fu-"

The scene in front of you is a mess. Mail you'd left on your coffee table earlier is strewn all over the floor, your bowl of knick-knacks over turned in the middle, and two of your sofa cushions dumped onto the floor.

Most baffling of all are the people in the room. You know them. Of course you do. Who else would it be. Joel Miller is stood - or rather, he's being propped up - in your living room, gripping onto his brother as he desperately tries to keep his legs beneath him.

"Tommy? Joel? What the fuck are you two doing here?"

Joel, who by now has caught the sound of your voice, has stopped trying to keep himself upright, and is instead staring dozily at you, a lopsided smile spreading across his face. Tommy, meanwhile, is now taking almost the full weight of his older brother, and suffering for it, barely keeping his own legs from buckling as grunts and groans.

"I dropped him home but he - shit man you're heavy, stop it - he kept wanderin' this way. Kept askin' about a goodnight kiss. Told him I'd give 'im one but -"

"Hi," Joel cuts in suddenly, slurring around the simple greeting as he moves toward you despite Tommy's protests.

"Joel," you say in warning, as the broad man stumbles toward you on drunken feet.

In response, he raises a single finger, clearly much slower than he intended to, and the smile on his face spreads even wider.

"No."

"No? What? Joel, look I think you sho-"

"Birthday Joel. 'm Birthday Joel," he grins, and you can't help but supress a laugh. This is maybe his most lackluster costume yet. He has a crumpled party hat on and the same clothes you saw him leave in earlier this evening, and it makes you wonder how long he's been keeping that one in tonight - whether he told his friends the same thing down at the bar, or if he'd been holding it back just to tell you. By the proud look on his face, and Tommy's confusion, you suspect the latter.

"Hey there, Birthday Joel," you say with a soft smile. "Now, what're you doing over here and not at your own place? It's late, Joel. I said I'd see you in a couple of days -"

"Birthday Joel deserves a birthday kiss."

You raise your eyebrow at him, stopping his stumbled wobble in its tracks. "Deserves?"

"Wants. I jus' - I jus' wanted to kiss you," he breathes, looking down at your mouth with another smile so soft your breath leaves you in a quiver as you try not to embarrass yourself by letting loose the bubble of affection sitting in your belly.

Naturally, you'd given Birthday Joel plenty of kisses earlier today - a day that technically wasn't even his birthday yet - before Tommy came to pick him up. You'd given him so many kisses he was almost late out the door to his own birthday drinks. Tommy had rolled his eyes then just as he is now, slapping his brother on the back and steadying him all in one move.

"Told you, man," Tommy says. "She wouldn't 'ppreciate bein' woken up just to kiss your ugly ass."

Tommy winks at you, and tries to manouvere Joel toward the door, but Joel, somehow speedy despite his drunkenness, manages to round back to you, arms spread and ready to envelope you in a hug before he stops himself and instead delicately grabs your hands.

"Jus'... Jus' missed you," he hiccups. "Missed - missed my girls."

"Okay, Prince Charmin', I'm tired, you're drunk, we all gotta sleep, let's go."

"Tommy?" you say, letting Joel's thumbs caress the back of your hands as he holds them, refusing to let go even as Tommy tries, and fails, to tug him toward the door once more. "I can drop him home, if you wanna get goin'?"

For a second, it looks like Tommy's ready to object, determined to get his brother back home and in bed, just like he promised. But then he looks at his brother, and the lovesick look on his face, and decides to leave well enough alone.

"I'll see you at dinner tomorrow," he says to Joel. "Sarah's bein' dropped off at-"

"At ten, I know," he slurs. "Miss her. Missed you. My girls."

After a minute of prising your hands out of Joel's, you see Tommy out, walking with him to your door. The spare house key you'd entrusted to Joel months ago is deposited safely into your hand, before he wishes you luck with the birthday boy, and jogs the short distance through the darkness to his truck and zips away into the night. Joel, who you'd left unattended for all of two minutes, has already taken it upon himself to flop down onto your couch, and is fighting a losing battle with his drooping head as you approach.

"C'mere," he mumbles with a wobble to his head, hands making a reach for you.

"You're still after that kiss, huh?"

"Uh-huh," he says, grinning again as you hinge, bringing your face close to his.

His eyes flutter closed before you even close the distance, pressing soft kisses to the corners of his smiling mouth, before pressing a softer, lingering kiss to his lips.

"That good enough for you, Birthday Joel?" you whisper.

"Mm. S'good. Missed you."

"You've said that already."

"S'true."

"I'm gonna get you some water, sober you up a bit before I get you home."

Joel is asleep on his side, legs pulled up onto the couch, when you come back with water. You doubted you'd get him home tonight, with the state he's in, but you were at least hoping to get him upstairs and into bed, where he could better sleep off whatever demons were coming for him in the morning. As he starts to snore, face pressed into the couch cushion, you're suddenly very grateful that he won't make it up the stairs.

You tidy up the small tornado of mess that's torn through your living room. Mail is picked up and put where you should've left it in the first place, the bowl is righted and its contents replaced, the cushions are shoved back on the couch. Assessing the man himself, you soon realise there's no way you're getting him comfortable without waking him, so you prod his side, waiting until he wakes before whispering gently to him.

"Joel? Let me get this shit off you," you say, tugging at his shoes.

For all his drunkenness, he does try to help. He fumbles with his belt buckle, getting it halfway undone before his frustrated grunts turn to curses, and your hands replace his. In no time his belt is off, and he's kicking off his pants, reaching for you and dragging you to sit beside him again.

"Joel, you're drunk, we're not playing -"

"Jus' a kiss," he asks, tapping his cheek with a smile that crinkles his eyes.

It's impossible not to give in, or smile too as you press your lips to his cheek and he hums softly, already letting sleep claw back at him.

"'Nother one," he says, as his eyes droop.

"You're drunk, Joel. You should sleep."

"Not Drunk Joel - Birthday Joel," he mumbles, with a sleepy smile as you pull off his crumpled birthday hat and toss it aside.

"Then get some sleep, Birthday Joel."

You stand, your weight shifting off the couch and jostling Joel, his head already so heavy with sleep it wobbles to the side. His hand still finds yours though - pulling you to a stop as you try to creep back upstairs.

"Come to dinner? Tomorrow? Come meet Sarah," he asks, brave with sleep. "Want - both m'girls there."

He'd hesitated asking you all week. You could tell by the way he stumbled over the words each time he explained his birthday plans - bar with the boys the night before, dinner and a movie with Sarah and Tommy on the big day. The lengthy pauses had been filled with an invitation he could never quite get out, and you didn't want to fill in the blanks yourself.

He's dozing, already mostly asleep, by the time you can even answer him. So, instead you stroke softly at his hair, watching as his whole body suddenly gives in to sleep, giving him a final kiss on his cheek, and whispering in his ear;

"Ask me again in the morning, Birthday Joel. Ask me then, and I'll say yes."

In the morning, when you're both sipping coffee and Joel is nursing a hangover the likes of which he's never seen, you don't expect him to keep to words he was too tired to hear. But, he does, not meeting your eye as the words he was never brave enough to say until last night come spilling out once more.

And, just like you said you would, you say yes.

next part

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[buddierecs]

accidental kissing buddie fics

this list has different rated fics, so please look at the rating make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

went a little like this by: thedesertpenguin "buck kisses eddie on a random morning. two problems with this: 1) they are not together 2) they don't realize they've kissed" word count: 3.2k rating: teen and up important tags: fluff, humor, mild angst, soft!buddie natural instinct by: inkinmyheartandonthepage "buck drives eddie and chris to the airport and, on instinct, he kisses eddie goodbye." word count: 7.9k rating: general audience important tags: car accidents, hurt!evan buckley, pre-relationship, idiots in love, soft!buddie, team as family, fluff, angst accidents happen (but i will love you on purpose) by: withmeornotatall "buck kisses eddie, goes grocery shopping with christopher, then realises he's in love with eddie, in that order" word count: 4.4k rating: general audience important tags: fluff, crack, love confessions, feelings realisation angel baby by: maxisbi "eddie accidentally calls buck "babe" and then they're cute for 2400 words straight." word count: 2.4k rating: general audience important tags: friends to lovers, getting together, pet names, sharing a bed crossed wires, words and... wets by: znks "sometimes, after a short pitstop through some yearning, your bff accidentally kissing you can lead to wonderful things" word count: 7.4k rating: explicit miscommunication, angst, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, gettign together, love confessions, shower sex, comeplay, thigh fucking of accidents and inevitabilities by: tawaifeddiediaz "the one where they accidentally kiss, and the cards fall right into place." word count: 3.5k rating: teen and up important tags: fluff, pre-relationship, soft!eddie diaz, getting together basic instinct by: delilah2040 "the one where buck and eddie are literally the last to know that they're dating." word count: 2.8k rating: general audience important tags: accidental relationship, idiots in love, oblivious!buddie, fluff on autopilot by: indigobaz "after a distracted eddie kisses buck, chris has a lot of questions. too bad eddie is at work and buck is the only adult available for questioning." word count: 3.5k rating: general audience important tags: friends to lovers, fluff, getting together, christopher diaz has two dads nobody gets me (like you) by: cephalopodx "eddie kisses buck goodbye. they aren't together yet." word count: 2.2k rating: general rating important tags: getting together, fluff, cuddling strike up the band and make fireflies dance by: bibbawrites "5 times buck and eddie kissed as best friends and 1 time they kissed as more" word count: 3.5k rating: not rated important tags: 5+1 things, eddie diaz pov, fake dating and you kisses me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever by: asteriasera "a few months after breaking up with natalia, buck mentions he misses kissing during the annual grant-nash christmas party. eddie, of course, offers to kiss him, and things spiral from there" word count: 16k rating: general audience important tags: getting together, mutual pining, gay!disaster eddie diaz, drunken kissing i wanna feel the sunshine, shinin' down on me and you by: maira "the one where buck accidentally kisses eddie." word count: 3.7k rating: teen and up important tags: idiots in love, soft!buddie, getting together, love confessions