#drawing of my weed bag

[overchromatic]

if i don't draw him I'll explode into smithereens.

[chestersturniolo]

dealer!chris x fem!reader

Summary ; dealer!chris visits y/n for a top up of her usual, but intrigue consumes her and she decides to try something new.

Warnings ; strong mentions/use of drugs (don’t do them!) , use of y/n & pet names. 

============================

after a long, long day, i trudge through the door of my apartment with a deep sigh. 

i throw my bags down by the door and immediately head to my bedroom, to the pretty glass jar stashed in my dresser. 

i fumble around the draw and pull it out,eagerly snatching the lid off. 

“fuck” i mumble to myself, whilst staring down at nothing but pathetic crumbs laying at the bottom of the jar. i let out a frustrated huff,setting it down on top of my dresser.

i reach to my back pocket, pulling out my phone 

the upside to running out is needing more…and needing more meant seeing him. 

chris was my first ever dealer. and my only one since then. at first i was terrified of him, i had never smoked before. so having to meet a scary stranger guy to be able to do so, made it even more nerve wracking.

••••••••••flashback••••••••••••

my heart is in my throat as i walk towards his car. the soft glow of the streetlights that flicker slightly not helping my nerves. meeting a random guy in his car at night for illegal activity? what could go wrong?

the only thing that keep those thoughts at bay (not really) is the fact i got his number from a close friend who i trust. 

“here goes nothing” i sing to myself before reaching out to the handle, plopping down into the passenger seat. i keep my eyes at my lap, too nervous to even make eye contact. 

“uh-hi” i mumble, barely audible

“what’s up… what do you want, and how much?” 

i tear my eyes away from my lap, to meet the boys gaze.

woah

i open my mouth to talk but nothing comes out, partly because i didn’t expect him to look like this , and partly because i had no idea what to say. or how any of this works. 

i just sit, staring like an idiot , mouth agape.

“helloooo” he says with a slight underline of frustration in his voice, waving his hand across my eye line to grab my attention. 

“what do you want” he repeats, 

i force myself out of my trance “um…weed?” i squeak, coming out more like a question 

“okaaay? and how much?” he presses.

his face emotionless and stern

once again i have no idea what to say. this should be so simple, but i have no idea the terms and phrases, how much is too much, how much is too little????? i try my best to hide the thoughts running through my head with a simple “just a little i guess…”

what the fuck is wrong with me 

i watch as his eyebrows raise and he lets out a soft chuckle

“you’ve never done this before have you” 

i wave of embarrassment washes over me as i feel my cheeks burn up, realising that my inexperience is so blatantly obvious. my gaze once again falls to my lap.

“uh..no..no i haven’t” 

he must notice my humiliated state, as his whole demeanour shifts.

“hey,don’t worry about it” he reassures, his voice now soft. 

“i’m just glad you came to me” 

i glance up to him once again, a new set of eyes now looking back at me. warm and reassuring.

a soft smile on the corner of his lips.

“i’ll help you out okay? i don’t think you should do it alone” 

i nod softly. for some reason i trust him.

•••••••flashback end•••••••

the rest of that night was spent with chris. he wasn’t so scary after all. we went to a backstreet and he talked me through everything. we smoked, we talked , we laughed. He made me feel so comfortable and safe. and i will forever be grateful for it.

i have been going to him ever since. although it’s not just a transaction.

we’ve hung out every now and again (a/n iykyk) and an unspoken connection has been built between me and chris since we met that night. i’m honestly not sure what it is. 

i’m not just a customer.

he’s not just my dealer.

we care for eachother.

———————

i change into an oversize T and some shorts to get comfy, whipping my bra off and basking in the free feeling. i hear my phone ping, i look over to see a text from chris ,

“here”

i smirk and slip some shoes on, not bothering with any extra clothing, making my way out the the apartment.

 

i see his car parked in the complex lot, i rush over ,goosebump’s engulf my skin as the cold night air whips around my legs. i swing the door open, plopping into the passenger seat of the warm car, the smell of chris’ familiar cologne fills the air. 

“hey ma” he chirps, shooting me his signature smirk whilst his eyes trail down to my legs and back up again.

“want your usual?” he asked, starting to rummage through the backpack on his lap.

“pleaaaaseee” i smile. 

chris starts pulling out handfuls of baggies placing them on his lap, whilst looking for my usual. my nosey eyes fall on the pile, examining the contents of each bag. one in particular catches my eye. the bright white contents staring back at me. i had never had any interest in anything else other than smoking. but for some reason,in this moment, my intrigue was strong. 

“here” chris says, holding out a familiar bag. 

i grab the bag without looking up 

“thanks”

chris notices my fixation and follows my gaze down to his lap. 

“oh absolutely not!”  

i snap my head up, his slightly widened eyes already on me. his eyebrows are raised as he looks at me with a face full of disbelief. this quickly turns into a stern look.

“no way, i’m not selling that to you” 

“why not, you sell it to other people?” i challenge with a slight pout. 

chris sighs and tears his eyes away,setting them on the dashboard. 

“yes, but they’re other people ma. you’re you.” he glances back to me 

“i’m not selling that shit to you y/n” 

i roll my eyes with a defeated sigh. 

“fine” i mumble, crossing my arms, turning my head frontways away from chris.

“don’t sell it to me. i just kinda wanted to try it…” i speak quietly, whilst making sure the disappointment in my tone was clear. 

see i knew chris was a softy deep down. at least for me. so i figured i’d try and make him cave with my pouty tone. but just incase that wouldn’t work, i had the perfect back up. Chris was firm about me not buying from anyone else… it wasn’t about him losing business, it was about other peoples product. He’d warned me countless times about “stepped on shit” and he made it very clear he doesn’t want me to go anywhere else for a fix.

“i guess i’ll see if y/f/n has any other contacts, maybe they’ll sell it to me” i say casually

“god dammit” i hear chris hiss under his breath through gritted teeth.

i smirk internally knowing that comment was working exactly how it was meant to.

i feel him grab my jaw, guiding my head back towards him. his eyes staring intently into mine.

“one try” he states. pointing a finger at me with his free hand. 

my lips turn upward into a smirk,

he notices my satisfaction, releasing his grip on my jaw. he sighs with a shake of his head. stuffing the scattered baggies on his lap back into his bag, before opening the car door and stepping out. i watch him as he comes round to my door, opening it and reaching a hand out. 

“come on” he orders. 

i grab his hand, he pulls me up and starts leading me back to my apartment. 

—————

my leg bounces anxiously as i perch on the edge of my couch, watching as chris wades through his bag once again. finally he pulls out the bag i was fixated on. he holds it up to our eye level, his eyes move from the bag to me.

“you’re sure about this?” he asks, with a dead serious expression. searching my eyes for any traces of hesitancy.  

i nod my head 

“talk to me” he presses 

“yes chris i’m sure”

he gives a soft nod of his head before opening the bag.  i watch as he brings his finger to his mouth giving a small suck to the tip, getting it wet. 

he pauses, glancing up to me

“you trust me?” 

i nod once again  “of course” 

he reaches into the bag dipping his finger into the powder. i watch curiously as it sticks to his wet finger tip. he scoots closer to me on the couch and uses his free hand to hold my jaw. 

“open sweetheart” he whispers, giving my jaw a small squeeze.

my brows furrow slightly, but i obey, slowly opening my mouth.

chris brings his other hand towards me , and slowly slides the coated finger into the side of my mouth. i feel him find his way to my gums, slowly rubbing up and down. his reassuring eyes not leaving mine. 

he repeats the action to the other side,then slowly pulls his finger out, planting a sweet kiss onto my cheek whilst still holding my jaw. before placing the finger that was in my mouth, into his own, taking off the excess. 

he sits back into the couch and watches me.

a mixture of anticipation and nerves start to wash over me, my leg returning to its bouncing state. the fear of what will happen next starts swirling in my brain. 

chris noticed my shift immediately , he reaches over and grips my knee, holting the bounces. brushing his thumb in small soothing circles. 

“hey-” he coos, bobbing his head down slightly to meet my gaze that’s now resting on the floor

“-it’s okay ma, i’ve got you aight?” 

================================

a/n - thankyou for reading loves🤍🤍🤍 and thankyou again for 500 of you!!? this was a fun one i hope you enjoyed. requests open 🥰

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

[elliesbarbie]

hands to herself e.williams

title: hands to herself wc: 3.8k

characters: fwb!ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: drinking, drug-use (weed), ellie being clingy as hell, public sex, cockblocking.., sub!ellie and dom!reader for like a second if u squint, dom!ellie and sub!reader, pet names (baby, angel, slut) edging, face-sitting, tribbing

summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you

a/n: this is way longer than i intended it to be…. the smut is there….. i promise….. proofread SLIGHTLY will probably make changes as time goes on. lmk if i missed anything!

you were the last one to get to the beach house. you had some complications with your car leading to you arriving a whole 3 hours late.

you were pissed to say the least.

exam season had just ended and you were so ready for your only worry to be about what swimsuit you were going to wear for the next few hours, definitely not finding out what the number for roadside assistance was.

with a long sigh you pull into the driveway, as you turn off your car you let your head fall onto the steering wheel. there’s only a brief moment of silence before you hear an excited yell coming from in front of you. you look up to find, dina, one of your best friends since high school, peaking her body through the front door and urging you to come in.

“y/n!! finally, you’re here! come in!!” dina yells and quickly turns her head over her shoulder, “jesse come help y/n with her things!” you smile, already feeling better, this is exactly what you needed after what felt like days of driving.

you turn off your headlights and get out of your car, “what’s up, y/n?” you see jesse smirk at you and slide behind dina to help you with your things. “definitely not my mood” you grumble, hardly holding back your smile as he gives you a side hug.

“hey, none of that shit, you’re here now, be happy” he draws a smile on his face with his two pointer fingers and starts on your luggage. you laugh to yourself and start to stretch your arms, you had your body in the same position for like 4 hours, you felt like a rusted slinky.

“i can get my stuff ya know” you say, coming out of your much-needed stretch, “dina will drown me in the pool if she sees you with any of this, so i got it” jesse’s words sound strained as he begins to walk into the house with two of your bags on each of his arms and you give a quick thank you.

“hey,” ellie says, her voice coming from behind you, “thought you’d need this” you quickly turn around to see her with her arm extended, holding a blunt out to you, well, rather what was left of it.

“ellie” you feel even more annoyed, “you left me like one hit” you felt yourself grow more upset until you can’t help but laugh as you take the blunt from her hand and take a hit.

“it’s the thought that counts, no?” she laughs and crosses her arms. as you exhale you give yourself a chance to look at ellie and you notice she’s already wearing her swimsuit, a black sports bra and black to green gradient swim trunks, you can see her toned stomach and muscular arms…

this is exactly the vacation you needed.

“my eyes are up here, perv” ellie smirks and steps closer to you. she wraps her right arm around your waist and puts her mouth to your ear, “dina’s watching us, let’s not give ourselves away” she lets go and heads toward the front door “c'mon” ellie flicks her head toward the door and you follow with a smile.

she’s too smooth for her own good you think to yourself as you enter the huge beach house that you and your friends rent every year.

you and ellie had history. ever since you two were in middle school, ellie would always get jealous of the other friends you had and you found yourself jealous of the girls ellie dated. then in high school is when you started questioning your feelings for her.

during a sleepover, you guys had gotten to the point of having that deep conversation at 2 AM and you ended up admitting that you had never done anything with anyone. to this, ellie laughed, not at you but at the fact that she thought you were lying straight to her face. cause in what world would no one have made a move on you yet? she knew the only reason she hadn’t was because she never wanted to ruin the friendship you guys had but when you finally were honest with each other, your friendship developed into something more.

to this day you don’t remember exactly how it got brought up but eventually, that conversation sparked the question, “should we be friends with benefits?” and from that night on you two had a countless number of late-night meetups, quickies, and “bathroom breaks”. at first, it started out as “ellie is teaching me things so i don’t have to be embarrassed for my first time” into “ellie, i'm horny. let's fuck”.

as soon as you walked through the door, dina is greeting you with a big hug, “we’re gonna have the best time” she smirks and walks over to the kitchens island, “jesse’s putting your bags away in the room now and when he gets back the party begins so, y/n, i suggest you get ready” you can hear the excitement in her voice as she goes to make everyone drinks.

you laugh and make your way upstairs, catching a glance at ellie on the couch before opening the door to your room.

“you’re a fast worker, jesse, thank you” you say as jesse puts your last bag down and winks at you, “you know it! now don’t take too long getting ready, we’ve already been waiting forever” jesse yells as he walks out of your room and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes.

you open your bag to find the swimsuit ellie bought you for your birthday

perfect you think

you slip on the polyester bikini, take your hair down from your loose ponytail and you’re already out of your room. it fits you perfectly, it’s a pink string bikini that barely covers anything. just ellie’s type.

as you stride down the stairs you can feel ellie’s eyes on you. a little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it? you think to yourself as you start to sway your hips. you can see her tense, this is the first time you're wearing this swimsuit since she got it for you.

you feel a sense of pride knowing the kind of effect you have on her.

"what's on the menu tonight, barista?" you lean over the marble-covered island making sure to accentuate your ass. dina turns around with the freshly made drinks in her hands, "pink gin spritz and strawberry mojitos" she carefully walks over to the sliding glass door, "gonna put these outside, meet us out there!" you see the door seamlessly open by itself until jesse appears, taking some of the drinks from dina to help her set on the outdoor bar.

before you can even comprehend the sound of rustling on the couch behind you, you feel a hand on your lower back. "knew you'd look fucking perfect in this" ellie breathes onto your neck, barely above a whisper. with her presence comes the smell of teakwood and weed.

her hand travels further down and rests on the small of your back right before your ass. "you're drivin' me crazy, babe" your breath hitches as her pointer finger hooks under one of the strings holding your bottoms on. "would be so easy to just," you can feel her finger start to work at the knot when you quickly shoo her hand away.

"dina and jesse are right outside, waiting for us mind you" when you turn around, ellie's face is inches away from yours. god, if it weren't for the pair outside you would be in her pants within seconds. her emerald eyes stare into yours with such lust your knees about give out.

“ellie” your voice drags. ellie moves her hands slowly from your hips to your waist. humming in response. her hands move higher and higher as they start to graze the bottom of your breasts, moving her thumbs back and forth, barely touching the tips of your areolas.

“so pretty” ellie hums, flicking her eyes between your tits and your eyes, practically giving you puppy dog eyes. you groan and clasp your hands around hers, pulling them away and to her side, “you said it yourself, let’s not give ourselves away” you start towards the sliding glass door and glance behind you, “keep it in your pants, williams”

she scoffs and follows you out.

the luminescent lights flood your vision as you step outside, there’s a cool breeze along with loud music, it’s honestly a beautiful sight. there’s lights hanging over the pool, connected to the patio, and even colorful lights in the pool. you spot jesse on one of the lounge chairs with a beer in hand and want a drink of your own.

walking over to the bar, you decide on a strawberry mojito and see ellie pop-up on the other side of the bar. “what are you drinking tonight?” you take a sip of your cocktail, humming in delight. “you” she says nonchalantly and you can’t help but laugh, “el, pick a drink, im getting in the pool” as you turn to walk over to the pool you can see ellie throw her head back, you’re loving this.

the cool water feels so good as you slowly step into the shallow end. you put your glass on the ledge and dip your shoulders under, leaving your head out of the water. you stand up and walk over to your drink, taking a sip before leaning your head on the ledge, watching ellie get into the pool. as her stomach reaches the cool water she hisses and her stomach tenses, at this rate you’re just about as horny as her. you break out of your daze when she fully submerges herself under water.

it feels like the music fades out when she comes up, her eyes lock with yours, she’s just so beautiful, especially in this lighting. her hair slicked back, freckles showing, flushed face, and her lips curling into a smile. she was just so gorgeous. you almost forgot your close friends were there when she walked towards you and spun you around, wrapping her arms around your waist and settling her head on your shoulder.

you wanted to kiss her so bad right now. you felt yourself grow needier and tried to push down the feeling of your clit pulsing, you needed some kind of friction. silently begging ellie to catch on. and it was like the gods heard your thoughts.

ellie’s knee pushed your legs apart, resting in-between the both of them. you tense, there’s a the tiniest bit of friction and it feels oh so good, but it’s not enough it just makes you more and more needy. you’re losing your train of thought when dina speaks up, “ellie sure is clingy tonight” she giggles as she gets in the pool with a huge flamingo floaty. “you know how she is when she gets high, dina” you’re trying to avoid any questions arising between the group, but ellie just makes things harder.

you can feel her arms loosen around your waist, only for them to find your hips. she buries her face in your neck and above above a whisper she asks you, “can i move them?” she gives your hips a tight squeeze to make sure you understood what she meant. you’re surprised with how fast you respond, turning your head to the side to avoid dina, “please” your hand grasps onto ellie’s and you can feel her smirk on your skin.

she starts out slowly, as to not being much attention to you guys. jesse had gotten in the water and was actively trying to flip dina off her float so it wasn’t hard to go unnoticed.

her hands grip to your side like her life depends on it, the thin layer of your bikini makes every movement feel more enhanced. your clit moved back and forth between the fabric of her swim trunks and onto her leg, the difference of texture making you ache.

“jesse stop!” dina yells and you both practically crack your necks looking over to them. dina was over jesses shoulder, hitting him on his back. “stop fussing! we’re at the beach, i wanna go to the beach” he makes his way over to the back screen door uses a hand to unlock it, “we’ll be down here if you need us!” jesse practically yells.

but you can barely hear him with ellie’s hands lingering ever so close to your pussy. she wastes no time in turning you to face her and places you two onto the stairs of the pool. she’s immediately on your neck, placing quick and sloppy kisses all over.

“such a fucking tease. dressed like this and not letting me touch you?” she hums into your neck, taking a breath in-between kisses to get her words out. you feel as if you’d float away if she let go of you. her hands were attached to your hips, grinding them harshly against her thigh. you moan into her touch and can feel the heat form between your legs.

“el-lie… hold on” you whine and that finally gets ellie’s attention. “what, babe? am i going too fast for you?” the auburn girl tilts her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. a fake frown forms on her face before you respond. “not here, dina and jesse are- “ she cuts you off with a kiss, it’s slower this time, “gone. they’re all the way down at the beach, probably doing the exact thing we’re about to do, so…” ellie’s voice trails off as her thumb rubs over your pulsing clothed clit.

you shudder. “d-don’t bring them up right now” you sigh, arching your back into her. it’s your turn to kiss her now, tilting your head you kiss her slowly at first, wrapping your hands in her hair and tugging. ellie whines into your mouth and you pull her off your mouth.

she looked so good like this. face flushed, head tilted back, lips pink and swollen. her pupils were so dilated you were concerned for a second. only a second. before you lean into her ear and whisper, “want to fuck me in the hot tub?”

ellie practically moans at the thought. as you let go of her hair she grabs at the backs of your thighs and massages them. you gently remove her hands and slide off of her. “needy, huh? follow me, baby” you slowly climb up the steps and over the to the isolated pavilion on the other side of the porch.

ellie is following you like a puppy-dog, practically drooling at the sight of your now, wet body. that bathing suit was the perfect idea, she thought.

as you step into the hot tub, you groan. if you weren’t hot already, you were now. you barely get a chance to adjust when ellie wraps her hands around you to grope your tits. she’s pushing you into the back of the hot tub, you could feel a jet in front of you. “what do you think would happen if we turned this on…” ellie reaches one of her hands up and turns the jets on with a small press of a button.

the hot water hits your pussy and you physically jump back. it’s hits right on your clit, you’re a whining mess. “ellie…. el this is too much” you’re grabbing at her hands, her arms, the side of the tub, but nothing works. ellie continues on your tits, face submerged in the side of your neck, working on your jawline. “too much, angel? seeing you in this suit was too much for me, but you didn’t show me mercy, did you?” you moan.

“ah- i… just wanted to” your mind is scrambled, the pressure on your clit along with all the attention on your tits and neck almost makes you cum. and ellie can tell. just as you start to shake. ellie let’s you go.

you’ve never looked back quicker. it looks like ellie’s gone. you’re confused for a second until you see her submerge from the water, shake off her hair, and stare at your ass. “god damn” ellie looks up into your eyes while she slowly leans you forward, giving her full access to your ass. bent over the hot tub, she gropes your ass. gives it quick kisses and gentle smacks. “so pretty for me, such a fucking slut” she squats down in the water and uses her pointer finger to rub your throbbing clit.

“ellie, please. need it so bad” you grind your ass on her fingertip hoping for some kind of friction as you feel her slide your swim suit bottoms down your ass. “look at how wet you are for me” you can hear her smirk as she spreads your lips with her pointer and middle finger. you could practically cum on the spot.

“stand up for me, baby” as you move, ellie slides to sit under you and immediately brings your hips down. her lips connecting to your clit in seconds. sucking harshly, she grips your thighs, massaging them. “el… god, fuck!” you whine, grinding your hips on her face, her tongue flat against your pussy, letting you use her for your pleasure.

“that’s it baby, all needy for me” ellie moans on your clit. you can feel your orgasm catching up to you quickly, ellies tongue lapping at your wet hole and moving up to do quick circles on your sensitive nerve has you trembling in seconds. “ellie! ellie! fuck!” you ride out your orgasm on her tongue while you try to relax your breathing.

ellie gives your clit a quick kiss before slowly bringing you back down into the water. “so good for me, angel, always so pretty” ellie whispers into your ear and cups your face with her hands, dragging you in for a kiss. you eagerly slip your tongue into her mouth. when you break away there’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“ellie, you’re pretty too, you know” tilting your head, it’s your turn to make her feel good.

“was thinking about you, earlier” you slowly grind your hips against her trunks, she spreads her legs slowly, allowing more access. “oh yeah?” ellie smirks and your hands travel to her toned stomach.

“thought about… your abs and your arms” your hands roam her body. “touching me..” you whimper as ellie’s hips move up to meet yours, in slow thrusts. she whispers curses under her breath. she somehow maneuvers her hands under you and slips off her swim trunks, shuddering at the heat of the water.

“fuck, baby, you’re killing me” ellie leans her head back when your hips speed up, you lean forward to kiss on her neck. sucking at her sensitive skin, you can feel her moan, “come on, make me cum, angel” ellie’s hands are in your hair when your lips travel up to meet hers.

your hands eagerly grope her clothed tits as her head falls back again “f-uuuck, baby, im close” your hips speed up as she tightly grips at your hips. her head is cuddling into your shoulder as she finally comes down from her own orgasm and you follow close behind her.

you become a whining mess in her mouth. chanting her name, yet again, and she loves every second of it.

“always so good for me” ellie takes your hands in hers and pulls them down to her side. you lean down and kiss her, “remind me not to wear this suit in front of you again” you giggle and see ellie scoff.

“please, i already know what your next birthday gift will be”

[loserboysandlithium]

In honor of 4/20. A lil shotgunning with Eds. Fwb.

18+ hoes warnings: smokin’ that good good 🍃 and ofc smut. Slight degradation

*******

“Never? You’ve never smoked before?” Eddie’s dark eyes widen on you as you shrug your shoulders nonchalantly.

“How? How is this possible?” Eddie continues with his dramatics, his jaw practically on the floor at this point.

“It’s not that big of a deal Eddie.” You giggle as you watch his expressions change from confusion to excitement as he jumps up off the couch.

“You wanna? There’s no way I can date a girl who hasn’t smoked. Come on, sweetheart. This is bad for my reputation.” Eddie jokes, making you roll your eyes.

“First, we’re not dating. Second, what reputation is that, Munson?” you tease.

“You know.. my uh- bad boy reputation. My super charming yet slightly mysterious drug dealer reputation?” he winks down at you, his words making you snort out a laugh.

“Oh, you’re mean.” he pouts, crouching down in front of you. “You don’t have to. But it could be fun.” His tone drops suddenly as his ringed fingers begin dancing across your exposed thigh. Your small skirt worn for this exact moment.

“You gonna help me, Eds?” you drop your tone to match his, watching as a slick smile spreads across his pretty face.

“Fuck yeah.” he grins, jumping up to retrieve his little lunch box from his room. He plops down on the couch, opening the metal box to reveal a small bag of weed. You observe him carefully, watching as he picks through the seeds and stems, breaking up the little pieces of green.

His tongue pokes out as he concentrates on filling the small rolling paper perfectly before bringing it to his lips, sealing it tightly. He reaches into his jeans, pulling out his zippo before glancing your way again. “Ready?”

“Almost.” you whisper softly before hiking up your skirt, swiftly moving to straddle his lap. Eddie hums in delight as you place your hands on his shoulder.

“Ready.” you purr, taking your bottom lip in your mouth, biting it gently. You can feel him beneath you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing perfectly against your clit as he pops the joint in between his lips. He inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds before releasing a cloud of smoke into the living room of the trailer.

You expect Eddie to pass it to you next but he draws it back to his lips once again, taking a large hit. His brown eyes land on yours as his free hand gently cups your chin, pulling you closer. You feel his soft lips brush yours and you part them on instinct, allowing him to exhale the smoke into directly into your mouth.

The taste is a familiar one, one you’ve tasted on his tongue so many times. It was stronger now though as you feel the smoke circulating through your lungs. Your eyes shut as you focus on the slight tingling beginning to tickle your brain.

“Baby.. uh- you might wanna let that go.” Eddie’s voice brings you back to reality and you open your eyes to see his head tilted slightly, watching you with curiosity. A warmth spreads across your body as you finally exhale.

“That was a big hit.” he chuckles as he takes another drag. This time you’re the one who leans in, gripping the back of his neck firmly as you press your lips back to his. A soft moan leaves his lips as you shove your tongue into his mouth, smoke escaping around the kiss.

You do your best to inhale but his fingers are now digging into your hips making it hard to focus on anything else. Your brain feels slightly fuzzy as you begin rolling your hips, pressing down onto his crotch, his dick hardening more with every second.

“Need you.” you mumble into his mouth, giggling as he almost tosses you out of his lap in an attempt to reach behind you, snubbing the joint out on the coffee table. Then his lips are back on yours, his hands roaming your body, roughly pulling your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest.

“Fuck sweetheart, no bra.” Eddie groans, latching onto your nipple immediately.

“Just for you, Eddie.” you coo, allowing your head to fall back, the high making every sensation more intense.

“Mmm, good girl. Such a good girl for me.” he mumbles in between kisses to your hardened nipple. His words of praise have your panties soaked as you speed up, grinding even harder on his lap.

The button of his jeans presses hard against your clit making you let out a needy moan. “Fuck..” Eddie breathes, his hands suddenly gripping even tighter as he locks you in place.

“Right there, baby?”

“Yes, shit.” you whine, feeling the chill of the metal on your clit through the thin material.

“Use me, sweet girl. Want you to cum just like this.” Eddie burns, bringing his forehead to yours. You keep your eyes on him as you begin rolling your hips again, making sure to hit the perfect spot every time. Your hands tangle in his wild curls as you spreads your knees a little more.

Small whimpers and moans pour from your lips as you grind on him, each roll of your hips bringing you closer and closer. Your wet panties leaking through onto his dark jeans.

“Look at you, such a little slut, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, Eddie.”

“Is my little slut gonna cum for me?”

“Mhmm, so close.”

“There we go, baby. Just like that. Don’t fuckin’ stop.” Eddie mumbles drunkenly, panting heavily as he helps you pick up speed, your wet pussy gliding up and down his clothed cock.

“Want you to cum too..” you whimper, your nails digging into the back of his neck as you bring yourself right to the edge.

His firm hand slaps your ass hard making your head fall forward, letting out a little squeal into his neck.

“Fuck Eddie!”

“Faster baby.” he growls in your ear.

“Wanna cum, cum with me please.” You beg, aching for your sweet release. Wanting more than anything for him to reach it with you.

“Eddie please, I’m gonna- fuuck.” Your hips jerk violently and your teeth sink into his neck as you let go, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.

“Sh-shit…” Eddie stammers, his cock twitching suddenly beneath you, making a mess of the inside of his pants. You ride out your high, rutting against him pathetically.

“Holy shit.” He breathes as your hips slowly come to a stop.

“Mmmm… Happy 4/20 Eds.” you sigh as you collapse onto his chest.

He chuckles breathlessly, kissing your temple.

[prazinos]

Art Come To Life

Summary ~ Xavier Thorpe was an interesting outcast to say the least. He had the power to make his art move, which is why it comes in handy in times like this.

Disclaimer ~ I do not support Percy Hynes White, this is about the character and not the actor.

WARNINGS: Smut | Handjob | Masturbation (M) | Oral (F) | Fingering (F) | Squirting | PiV | Unprotected sex (seriously wrap it before you tap it | probably bad | MINORS DNI |

You were walking to your best friends dorm, waving to Enid and Wednesday as they walk past, your legs growing tired from how large the school was and it didn’t help you were still in your school uniform and your brand new doc martens hadn’t broken in yet. Your feet were killing you

you finally had reached Xavier’s dorm and knocked on the door only to have no answer. You sigh pulling out the spare key Xavier had given you after Rowan had been expelled (or according to Wednesday, killed).

Opening the door you saw Xavier slumped back in his desk chair. You squinted at him before he let out a moan. The blush quickly rising from your neck to your face as your thighs clench at the noise. Your eyes widen, you can’t really have walked in on your best friend masturbating and then have found it hot, there’s got to be something wrong with you. Xavier lets out another loud moan and you whimper at the sound. Immediately he closes his sketchbook and whips his head around covering himself.

‘What are you doing here Y/N?!’

‘I’m-I’m so sorry Xavier I was, I was just coming to see you because I um got some weed from, from uh from Ajax and I was going to smoke um some with you’

‘God this is so humiliating’

You took this as a chance to tease him, while cruel, it was slightly funny

‘Were you really jacking off to a drawing you did?’

‘What? No I had my um my phone on my sketchbook’

He looks mortified and you only feel slightly bad when you reach to grab the sketchbook. He attempts to grab the book before quickly going to cover himself again.

As you flick through the pages, you can see him squirming in your peripheral.

Your eyes widen when they land on a drawing, a drawing of you and Xavier, but it was you riding him. Your eyes dart back to his face and he looks like he’s going to explode.

You smirk at him before placing the book down.

‘Make it move Xavier’

‘I-What?’

‘Make the drawing move’

He moves his hand over the drawing and it immediately starts to move. Your eyes trail over your naked drawn body, bouncing on top of Xavier. You watch as your drawn self throws her head back. You look over to Xavier and notice he’s palming himself slightly. Smirking, you reach over to his hand and remove it from his hard cock, you glanced at it, taking it in, it was at least 8 inches, it was thick but not to the point it would hurt, the tip was an angry red and you took in the neatly groomed pubes at the base.

You brought your hand to your mouth and spat in it before wrapping your hand around his cock. Immediately Xavier’s head was thrown back and you saw as his hands gripped the armrests, his knuckles turning white.

You smiled at his reaction. Your hand started moving up and down his cock at a fast pace, you rub your thumb over the slit of the head and he whimpers loudly, tears sprouting in the corners of his eyes. He looks at you in the eyes

‘Please, please Y/N, let me cum I need it so bad’

You smile at his begging and nod. You lean down and lightly lick at the precum on the tip, his hips bucking harshly as he cums down your hand.

He’s a panting mess when he comes down from his climax. Whispering quiet thank yous. You smile before licking the cum off your hand, you groan at the tangy musky taste that’s just so Xavier.

You turn around, bending over, rummaging through your bag before finding the weed that Ajax had given you. You toss the bag towards Xavier, he always rolls better joints. But instead of opening the bag he slams it down on the desk startling you.

You stand back up and notice Xavier’s dark expression. He stands up taking long strides towards you and you start walking backwards before your back hits the wall. Xavier smirks at your nervous expression. He leans down smashing your lips together.

You kissed him back just as feverishly as he was kissing you. He tasted like nothing you have ever tasted before. Your hands reach into his long hair and pull lightly, making him groan. He bites down on your bottom lip, making you gasp. He takes it as an opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips and into your mouth. You’re taken aback by the sudden confidence.

He finally breaks the kiss and you take in his swollen lips and tussled hair. He suddenly picks you up, hands under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. He smiles when you gasp as he squeezes your thighs.

He tosses you onto his bed and you kick off your shoes and socks. Tearing off your jumper and attempting to unbutton your blouse before you’re stopped by Xavier. He rips your blouse open and you glare at him as he chuckles darkly. Hearing the buttons hit the wooded floor you groan internally as when you ask Enid to fix your now ruined blouse she will ask how it got damaged.

You could have sworn Xavier’s eyes bulged out of his head for a split second as he takes in your deep red lacy bra. You shrug the blouse off and unclip your bra as he rods himself of his own button down and took off his already opened pants.

You reach down to rid yourself of your skirt and when you do, you attempt to take off your panties as well. But Xavier stops you. Pushing you down onto his bed, you lean on your forearms to see what he was doing and you could feel yourself getting extremely wet as you watch him take your panties off with his teeth.

He spreads your thighs licking his lips and you stop him, clamping your thighs shut and he looks up at you expectedly

‘Xavier wait, you don’t have to do that, I know guys don’t really like doing that’

‘Oh Y/N, I’ve been wanting to taste this sweet pussy for months’

He pushes your thighs apart once more before licking a stripe up your dripping cunt. You groan in unison, Xavier starts to devour you as your hips buck into his face he stops you by placing a hand on your hips pushing you down. You feel as his tongue plunges into your dripping hole before sucking on your clit, he was so talented with his mouth.

You didn’t know where to put your hands and as you looked down you nearly came at the sight of him making eye contact with you as he sucks on your pulsing clit. He notices your hands hesitate before he grabs them to place in his hair. He smiles as you grip his hair tightly, once again bucking your cunt into his mouth. He pushed your hips down and bit your clit lightly, not hard enough to hurt but enough for you to yelp and get the message that he wants you to stop moving.

You didn’t think you could feel anymore pleasure but Xavier surprises you by plunging his fingers into your cunt, curling them, you feel yourself clenching around his fingers, he continues to thrust his long fingers into your g-spot and suck on your clit. You felt like you were going to pee, trying to push Xavier’s face away

‘Xavier please ‘m gonna pee’

He ignores your pleas and doubles down smirking into your pussy

You heard it before you felt it, a loud gushing noise as you felt a liquid shooting from your hole. You moan loudly as Xavier works you through your intense orgasm.

As you come down you begin to feel too sensitive. You pry his face away squirming back before looking down at him once more, noticing his chest and chin are soaked in juices.

‘Xavier I’m so sorry oh my god I didn’t even know I could do that’

‘You have nothing to be sorry for, that was so hot Angel’

He stands up before lying down on the bed. He motions for you to sit on top of him and you obey,

‘Shit, I don’t think I have any condoms’

‘It’s okay, im on birth control but if you feel safer with the condom and don’t want to do this anymore-‘

He cuts you off with a searing kiss

‘Oh baby and miss the chance to feel you cum on my cock? I want you to ride me to oblivion sweetheart’

You blush at his vulgar words before nodding. You align his hard again cock with your entrance and slowly lower yourself, you moan loudly and he whines, you start to bounce on top of him, throwing your head back with another loud moan. You bounce harder. Xavier’s hands coming to your hips to slam you down onto his cock, you let him guide you as you continue bouncing.

Xavier’s hands leave your hips and you whine at the loss of contact before whining as you felt his fingers come down onto your clit, rubbing it furiously as you feel yourself get closer to the edge you looked down at him, he looked incredible. So fucked out, so fucking hot.

‘Shit! Fuck oh Y/N ‘m gonna cum gonna cum’

His moans get louder as he reaches his climax, the hot spurts of cum tipping you over to the edge as well, as you moan loudly, bouncing on his dick a few more times as he whimpers from the overstimulation.

You collapse down onto his chest, feeling hot, sweaty, and need of a shower.

You look up at Xavier to see him staring back at you

‘I don’t know if you can tell but I really love you Y/N’

‘I love you too doofus. Have for months’

‘Well I’ve loved you since you transferred here’

You did the math realising he’s liked you for over a year.

You smile and kiss him before getting off him

‘Y/N how did this happen exactly?’ Enid questioned looking between you and the ripped blouse

‘Um well you see I kinda got attacked by a um a wolf’ you responded scratching the back of your neck

‘More like you got attacked by Xavier’ Wednesday mumbled. You snapped your head around to Wednesday glaring at her

‘Oh my god!’ Enid yells

A/N ~ I’m not sure if this was good but please let me know if you liked it by commenting, liking, or reposting

Thanks my loves <3

[banj0possum]

What does goth man look like 👁️👁️

whaT DO THE ZOMBIES LOOK LIKE???

this reminded me that i had a wip of the zombie horde in my procreate ghhghhhghgh but i want to give yall a little more than that so im also throwing in some headcannons and stuff from when they were alive &lt;3 <3 <3

💀 Ribs' hair is bleached blonde! It also has a faint smell of weed, hmm.

💀 Just as he is now, he was very hyper. He used to go to a lot of parties and raves. He was actually at a beach concert when he got infected.

💀 He reacts to rock music, if you play a song near him, he’ll turn to where the sound is coming from and go to it and hop around happily, it’s a good way to find him if you loose him in the mall.

💀 Screw looked like he was a scavenger like you before turning into a zombie, you found old cans of food and an almost empty flask of water in his bag amidst things he probably picked up, things he very much didn’t need anymore in his current state.

💀 He and Ribs found a pair of scissors in your drawers once and you came back to your bunker to Ribs cutting Screw’s hair. They both just stared at you with Screw’s hair all over the floor, that’s why his hair looks a bit choppy.

💀 He gets cold easily somehow so he clings onto you the most, the others are a little jealous..

💀 Soda has a lot of burn scars on his shoulder, you make it a point to not use fire around him as he chirped and cooed worryingly when you lit a match to warm some food.

💀 His hair is surprisingly soft, a bit dry but it isn’t as covered in blood and dirt like the others.

💀 his shirt is slightly in better shape than the rest of his clothes, he’s probably had to change it after a while.

💀 Bo looks like he’s lasted longer than the others considering his supposed military experience and a bandage present on his leg ever before finding him, he’s had in on for a while.

💀 The sides of his face are scratches and torn, revealing his teeth underneath, it makes it hard to chew sometimes but that’s why he focuses more on getting the others food more than himself.

💀 He’s a bit of an attention seeker so if you see him beekeeping the others in line or doing something good, please praise him, he’ll be so happy. The others tease him for it because he resembles a dog when he leans down for you to pat his head.

Anyway here’s your funny little zombos !! Hope you like how they turned out ! I promise to give y’all a proper drawing of goth next time too!

[physalian]

How to subtly show the passage of time in your narrative

For instances where actual concrete numbers would be either jarring or unrealistic for your characters to know, like if they’re castaways in a remote region, prisoners of war, under house arrest and unable to access technology, or any other situation where a character cannot ground themselves in a reliable timeline. Or simply in fantasy settings that don't tell time in concrete numbers.

Giving your readers actual numbers can be jarring, whether it’s explicit measurements of things that invites readers to do the math that you might not have (thus risking plot holes), looking out of place in your narrative style, or giving numbers your characters realistically wouldn’t know.

Things like a 60lb bag of dog food, or an 8ft ladder, or a 2 liter bottle are different. Those are common measurements most people come across in conversation or otherwise. Taking an aside to make sure your readers know that a kiddie wagon is 3.5 feet long is… weird. Unless the story demands that, for some reason, this measurement is critical knowledge.

Passage of time is the same, and even more prone to potential plot holes. If you’re writing a story where time is critical, like characters are on a mission and timing must be perfect, then lacking numbers would be strange.

Anything else, though, and in the real world, we estimate all the time. “It’ll take maybe 45 mins” we say, not “it’ll take maybe 36 mins”.

But if you’re in a situation where characters don’t have clocks and calendars, their estimates should be broader and broader and more hyperbolic. “Talking for hours” “sleeping for days” etc. Otherwise, how do they have an exact sense of how much time has passed, and why is a specific number important? Readers can tell when a character or narrator is being hyperbolic.

If you want to get even more vague and subtle, you can either have characters notice environmental details, or clue the reader in without characters even knowing.

I think I’ve mentioned this already, but my go-to here for cases that last months is characters commenting on how long their hair has gotten, or the narration saying something like, “their hair has grown out over their eyes”.

But there’s a bunch of others

How thick the dust is on their surroundings

If the leaves on the trees have changed colors, grown back in, or fallen off

How long their fingernails are

How chipped nail polish has become

How nasty bruises have faded and changed colors

How much weight they’ve lost or gained

How much mold is on bread, or how much food has been eaten or rotten

How many cobwebs/spiderwebs have appeared

How desiccated the corpses of frogs or lizards have become

How grey their hair is, or their dog’s fur

How many weeds are growing in the sidewalk or in the gutters of their house

How many leaves are covering the lawn

How faded paint has become

How far natural roots have grown out, or hair dye has faded

All of those tend to be a more negative passing of time so here’s some lighthearted ones

How full the refrigerator door has become with children’s drawings

How cluttered the dresser is now with family photos

How worn a favorite pair of jeans/shoes or sweater is

How big kittens or puppies have grown

How many baby clothes don’t fit anymore

How many gummy fingerprints are all over the sliding glass doors

How worn the couch cushions are

How the floor is all scratched from dog nails or toy wheels

How much fur is everywhere

No matter what, even if characters do have clocks and calendars at the ready, you can still be subtle about it. Yet another example of showing, instead of telling, in about the same amount of words.

[princhii]

↳ Feel It

bada lee x fem!reader

not proofread!

↳ cw!: 18+, dom!bada, drinking, use of weed, smut, use of strap, sub!reader, age gap (reader is of age, just refers bada as older woman!)

a/n: ahhh this is my first time ever writing anything so pls go easy on me yall 🫡 heavily inspired by the song ‘feel it’ by jacquees :] also lusher is referred to as both seoyoung and lusher! hope u enjoy also happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate ⭐️

“do you like the way it feels, mama?— shit, back that ass up on it just like that baby.”

and just like that, you were there. on her bed. ass up face down. how did you even get there again? oh yeah, that’s right.

the club.

———★✮꩜⋆

you were never really one to go out and party, let alone in a setting where you didn’t know your surroundings. yet, here you were, letting your bestfriend of five years, seoyoung, also known as lusher amongst everyone else— help you pick out an outfit for the night.

“oh, what about this? it’s…cute!”

“lush, i told you i want something casual. not an outfit that draws attention towards me.”

you rolled your eyes as your bestfriend kept begging you to please do it for her, just this once. and because you love her too much, and kind of wanted her to shut up, you decided to wear it. the rest of your evening was spent trying to get ready for a clubbing event your bestfriend got invited to. she’s known lots of people throughout all these years of being her bestfriend, yet you never really agreed to going to events like these with her. not because you were being rude, but because you genuinely just didn’t like that setting. it wasn’t really your ideal way of having ‘fun’. it also made you a little uneasy and a bit overwhelmed knowing lusher would probably get out of her way to show you off and introduce you to literally everyone she knew. and yes, that meant everyone.

that’s what you get for having a dancer as your bestfriend— even better, she’s in a crew.

of course, after five years of being very close, you knew about it all. you were there when it was announced she’d be on the second season of street woman fighter, and you were there when her crew ultimately won the show. you were also there when it came to her introducing you to her beloved crewmates. she was very affectionate and wanted her members to meet you personally. it was also an excuse to get to invite you to places with them, in which you did go— well, sometimes.

the rest of the crew grew fond of you and got used to your presence when you’d accompany them for rehearsals or just other activities. you yourself grew fond of the girls. except for one girl in particular. bada lee. you didn’t know what it was, but there was something about her that made you feel the most nervous around her. it could probably be because she was a bit older than everyone else, or it could be because of her carefree nonchalant aura, or it could also be the fact that she was so insanely attractive. and that’s something you for sure kept to yourself. you felt small around her anytime there’d be an interaction. like that one time you went back into their shared studio to grab your phone because you had left it in there.

you made your way back into the studio, heading towards the far right corner where you had left your phone. realizing you also left your charger, you quickly grabbed both. as far as you knew, it was just you in there. that was until you heard someone clear their throat rather loudly. as if they wanted you to know.

“ah, so that’s who’s phone it was.”

you froze. the all too familiar voice infiltrating your ears. you placed your missing items in your bag before turning around and making eye contact with the taller girl. she was standing by the doorway, keys in one hand and duffel bag in the other, assuming it was her dance bag. she gave you a small smile once you met each others gaze. it took everything in you to not audibly whimper at the sight. she was wearing her signature baggy sweats, some oversized shirt, and a cap to hold in her hair, a few strands loosely peeking through along with her bun. it was such a basic, casual outfit— but it had you melting. her attractive nature was something you were definitely not immune to.

“oh uh, yeah. was in a rush and must’ve forgotten it.” you awkwardly laughed, subconsciously gripping onto the straps of your bag for dear life.

bada glanced over at you before giving you a small nod and turning the main lights off.

“well, it’s a good thing i came back. otherwise i would’ve locked up and not notice someone being in here.” bada’s voice was kind, speaking to you very respectfully. truth be told, there was honestly no reason for you to be so nervous. but you were. you were very nervous around her. more nervous than the time you had to bail lusher out of jail, but that’s a story for a different time.

———★✮꩜⋆

“look, y/n, i promise you everything will be fine! just loosen up a little, it’s not a bad thing to have fun y’know?” lusher tried cheering you up, touching up her makeup in the backseat of the uber. you, on the other hand, were very anxious. in this moment you began to regret even coming.

“you know this isn’t even my thing. i just said yes because you promised me you’d do my laundry for a month…” and at that, your bestfriend laughed and lightly smacked your arm, gasping as she faked being offended.

the uber arrived at the infamous club lusher had been yapping about the entire drive there. you two stepped out before making way towards the entrance. it’s not like you were insecure about showing yourself off, you’re a very confident person actually! it’s just you hardly know anyone who’s attending and it’s the way your dress would tend to ride up with every step you took. lusher took your hand and gave it a light squeeze before sending you a smile as you both walked inside. the vibrations from the blaring speakers already reverberating against you, the reek of alcohol and other substances hitting your nose. you were quick to notice that lusher had immediately began greeting people, her hand still in yours as she tried to get you to engage and make conversation with a few people she knew. needless to say, it all went well. after a good thirty minutes of being dragged around and forced to interact with people, you were then led to the mini bar. you gave small waves and smiles as you saw some of the girls waiting for you and lusher to arrive.

“y/n, you look gorgeous!” kyma squealed, practically jumping out of the stool to wrap her arms around you and fawn over your outfit.

“that’s literally what i’ve been trying to tell her but she thinks it’s ‘too risqué‘, can you believe that?” your bestfriend laughed, some of the girls joining and trying to boost your confidence. and to all of their commotion, you said your thank you’s when accepting their compliments and attempts at bringing your confidence up.

eventually, you decided to indeed let loose, and ended up having a few drinks, a shot or two, and moved your body onto the dance floor with the girls. throughout the night you really did try your best to have fun and take advantage of it since it’s not something you go for. and it was working! you were genuinely having a good time. as you made your way back to the mini bar to grab another drink, the bartender working was quick to grab your attention.

“‘s been paid for, ready to drink.” was all he said before going back to attend other club goers. you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before grabbing the drink the bartender had referred to. obviously skeptical, you eyed the glass. hell, you even sniffed the drink, because you know, you never know! after observing the glass full of alcohol you decided to down it. tonight you were letting loose, remember? might as well go all in. your face became flushed and slowly but surely, all the drinks were making their way back to hit you.

“didn’t really take you as a drinker so i had to see for myself, pretty.”

once again, you froze. only this time, you could feel the older woman’s breath down against your neck as she leaned into your ear, causing you to shudder whilst her velvety voice rang through your ears. bada always had a habit of just appearing out of nowhere— at least, that’s what it seemed like. turning around to face the taller girl, who was a little too close, you forced a half assed grin and gave her a small ‘thank you’ for the drink. you discreetly held your breath as best as you could, she was seriously standing close. her gaze slowly dropped down your body, confidently checking you out. a small chuckle left the dancer’s lips before backing away realizing she was indeed, way too close. you cleared your throat, trying to ease the tension and act normal— whatever that is.

“you looked like you were having fun just a while ago, why so quiet?”

oh i don’t know maybe the fact that you bought me a drink and proceeded to call me pretty then just happened to stand right in front of my face, i don’t know.

you thought to yourself, letting out a soft frustrated sigh, you rolled your eyes at the girl and turned back around getting yourself ready to order yet another shot because clearly you were not loose enough if you still managed to get this tense around bada even while being tipsy. before you could even open your mouth to order, a hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you back slightly. whymewhymewhymewhyme, you cursed at yourself, gritting your teeth behind closed lips.

“slow down, you’ve drank quite a bit i saw you. let’s go with the others, yeah?” her hand trailed down your arm, leaving goosebumps across your skin, grabbing your hand. “i don’t normally condone this but,” she continued. “minah and tatter recently got new stuff, c’mon.” and with that you found yourself getting dragged to a far corner to a lounge room of some sort, some of the girls already sitting there. excited squeals and claps were given once you and bada walked in to join, taking seats with them. you groaned when you realized what the girls were doing, then groaned even louder when lusher blew a cloud directly into your face followed by a fit of giggles. tatter looked over at you, handing you the freshly rolled joint you assumed she just made not even minutes ago. bada nudged your arm, giving you a small nod and encouraging you to take it. you knew some of the girls would smoke every here and there. you even smoked occasionally with lusher some nights. it’s not like you’ve never smoked, you just didn’t want to deal with the consequences of your own actions the morning after. ultimately accepting tatter’s offer, you grabbed the joint and let minah light it up for you. you placed the joint in between your lips and inhaled deeply, taking in as much as you could despite already being somewhat drunk. exhaling, you blew out the smoke towards the ceiling, throwing your head back and smiling to yourself. you took another generous hit then handed it over to minah.

“what?” your voice cracked slightly as you coughed, bada glaring at you.

then she smirked.

then her eyes darkened.

then her tongue swiped across her puffy lips.

oh god.

———★✮꩜⋆

bada’s grip on your hips grew tighter, forcefully pushing you against the wall. your fingers lost in her striped colored hair. the kiss was filled with nothing but pure sin. her tongue hungrily exploring the inside of your mouth, she’d occasionally pull her tongue away to suck on yours. bada pulled away, giving you both time to catch your breaths. she looked down at you, her thumbs rubbing circles against your hips.

“ever since seoyoung introduced us to you, i’ve been dreaming of this.” she huffed out, grabbing you by the chin. “you’re so fucking bad.” her thumb lightly grazing your bottom lip. looking up, you caught her biting her lip as she focused looking down at you and scanning your body in a now disheveled dress. bada’s hand’s slowly trailed down your sides, then down to the hem of your dress that was now hiked up even more. she let it sit up above your hips. you felt her lean into you, her large hands going back to firmly grip your hips, only this time she placed her leg in between yours, pulling you down against her thigh.

“fuck, you’re so pretty…” her voice sent chills down your spine, she sounded so sexy.

“follow me.”

and you did. she opened the door to her master bedroom and let you walk in first. before even having any time to observe the older woman’s room, you felt her arms wrap around you from behind, her face buried into your neck. she placed small kisses across your neck until she got comfortable enough to start biting and sucking. your breathing grew shaky, whimpering ever so slightly at the attention bada gave your neck attentively. although this was not the time to think about it, you were definitely not excited to have to explain to lusher why you and bada left together so secretively.

“bed, now.”

you snapped out of your thoughts once you heard bada’s voice and felt her breath against your ear. she guided you over to her bed, laying you down gently, contrary to the way she was just being rough with you. bada swiftly helped you out of your dress before leaning back slightly to take in your now exposed figure. she smirked to herself before tugging her bottom lip in between her teeth, glaring back over at you. you felt a familiar heat pool in your lower stomach, quickly reacting and crossing your legs. the striped haired girl snarled and forced your legs back open as she placed her large hands on your thighs, forcefully separating them.

“don’t get all shy on me now. i see the way you stare at me, god, you really thought i wouldn’t notice?”

her hands slowly caressed your inner thighs. a low groan escaped her lips.

“and now you’re making a mess on my new sheets.”

you bit your lip trying to hold back your whimpers. you couldn’t help but drip at the way bada spoke to you, the way she teased you by grabbing on your thighs, just shy away from your heat. a surprised yelp was let out as you felt bada pull you just towards the edge of her bed. she knelt down and propped one of your legs up on her shoulder. the older woman lightly blew against your wet core, the cool sensation causing you to moan and involuntarily buck your hips towards her.

“such a needy little thing.” bada teased you, placing a small kiss against your inner thigh.

“tell me what you want, princess.”

her long slender fingers softly tracing just the outside of your folds, teasing you when she lightly brushed over your now wet cunt. you felt your heart beating out of your chest as your breathing grew heavier, shakier.

you looked down at bada while she peered up at you from in between your legs. unfortunately you couldn’t hold back any longer and the sight alone was enough to make you throw your head back and let out a desperate whine. bada laughed at you, her laughter bouncing off the walls.

“i’m gonna make you feel it, mama.”

she got up from between your legs and leaned into you, placing a soft kiss against your temple.

“make me feel like you ain’t ever had it..” she huffed out lowly into your ear, nibbling softly against your earlobe. you heard a light ringing in your ears as you started to feel dizzy. her weight on top of yours, one of her hands still groping and caressing your thigh while her other hand was trailing up and down your side, nails slightly scratching at you. wet sloppy kisses were scattered all around your neck, bada making sure to mark every spot her lips connected to. definitely was not going to be fun explaining why you have so many hickeys along your neck.

“b-bada wait—“ you pushed her away gently, her face hovering above yours. she furrowed her eyebrows at your sudden movements.

you looked away shyly, turning your head to the side. a low chuckle erupted from the older woman, it was like poison.

“haven’t even started giving you what you need and you already wanna run from it, baby?” bada teased, pressing her hand down against your lower stomach with slight pressure. you instinctively let out a rather loud moan, arching your back into her touch. she took this as her sign to keep going, lowering her face down to your chest this time. her warm tongue swirling around one of your nipples, her free hand pinching and rolling the other. you let out quiet curses and whimpers as she got to work. and, yes, she marked you there too. after a few minutes, bada pulled away and looked down at your chest, contently humming to herself as she saw the bruises forming across your chest, on your boobs themselves, and right underneath. she came back to lean in for another kiss.

her tongue almost immediately forcing itself into your mouth. loud wet noises from the kiss were all that could be heard in the room. her hands freely roaming across your body, groping you hungrily. you let out moans into the girl’s mouth, your arms snaking their way to wrap around her. you bit her bottom lip, tugging on it slightly in between your teeth. your eyes fluttered opened to look up at bada, her lip still in between your teeth as you pulled it slightly, never breaking eye contact. you felt her grip tighten on your waist, her thumbs dipping into your sides roughly.

“fuck…” she groaned as you released her bottom lip, now becoming slightly swollen. giving you a light peck against your temple once more, she went back down to kneel in front of you. repeating her previous movements and propping your leg up against her shoulder.

“seoyoung never mentioned anything about you being a slut.” bada chuckled, her index finger lightly, so painfully lightly, tapped on your throbbing clit. your hips naturally bucking up to gain more friction. the girl continued doing this until she herself grew impatient.

“be good and take it all for me, yeah baby? be a good girl for me?”

you whined shamelessly, nodding your head and babbling incoherently. bada smirked, assuming that was your way of agreeing with her. she peeked up at you from between your legs, giving your thighs a light squeeze before peppering soft kisses just on the outside of your heat. a loud cry rippled through the bedroom walls as you felt her tongue lick a long strip against your folds, hands immediately darting down to grip onto her hair, your chest shakily rising and falling. her tongue dangerously, and skillfully, working its way into your wet cunt. you felt pressure being applied to your clit which caused you to choke out a moan, your fists now full of her colored hair. her thumb rubbed circles across your clit, applying pressure as her tongue continued to work its way into your core, going as deep as she could. strings of babbled whimpers and curses escaped your lips as the girl kept working her way into you. bada’s lips locked around your aching clit, teeth lightly grazing on the bundle of nerves with every suck she gave. tugging on her hair, you tried pulling her in even closer. until you felt two long digits scissoring their way inside of your sopping cunt.

“h-hey slow down—“ your barely coherent sentence was cut off by a loud moan, feeling her fingers curl up inside of you as she gave a particularly strong suck on your clit. you felt her moaning into your pussy, causing the vibrations to make you weaker, needier.

“ ‘m gonna cum..” you whimpered out, your hands moving to grip the sheets, bucking your hips into the older girl’s mouth.

taking note of this, bada completely removed herself, now hovering over you once again. you mewled out at her, begging her to go back and finish what she had started. in swift movements, she removed her top along with her bra. you gawked at her, eyes lighting up at her exposed upper half. she smirked at you, lowering her face into the crook of your neck. she gave small kisses this time, they were sweet and playful.

you could hear sounds of rustling fabric, you craned your neck to the side and tried to look down at both of your bodies. her pants now disheveled and tossed elsewhere. but that wasn’t it. your eyes practically bulged out once you noticed she was already wearing a harness with a very large toy attached to it.

“like what you see, princess?” bada chuckled, her lips kissing all over your jawline. her large hands roaming your body once more, groping you with desire and the need for more.

“you know, when i found out you were coming with seoyoung,” she gently and carefully sat you up before flipping you over. your stomach now on the bed and your face resting against one of her soft pillows.

“i just knew i had to wear this.” she teased, her hair brushing up against your skin as she leaned to whisper in your ear. snaking one of her hands to the front of your neck as the other one stroked her strap, playfully rubbing the head against your wet folds. you opened your mouth to say something but ultimately failed doing so. the only thing coming out of your mouth being whines and weak attempts at begging. her hands roamed down your back before stopping right above your ass. she slowly trailed her hands down lower before forcefully groping your ass and letting out a guttural groan.

“such a nice ass you have , baby, fuckkk.” bada bit her lip, leaning back and smacking your ass, cursing under her breath as she watched the way it jiggled. you cried out as you felt her hand forcefully smacking your lower half. you managed to lift your head up slightly and turn around, looking back at bada. her eyes were dark and heavy, wet tongue licking her lips, her gaze never leaving the sight of your ass. you suddenly had an idea.

keeping your sight on her, you lifted your hips up, now supporting yourself on your knees. you kept the upper half of your body pressed nicely against the bed. your position was nothing short from slutty. your back creating a perfect arch as your ass was fully on display for the older woman right behind you. heavy breathing was emitting from bada, her hands now holding onto your hips as she slowly and teasingly rubbed her silicone cock across your folds. over and over and over again. you moaned desperately, grinding back against bada, wanting to feel more of it. you heard bada mutter a few curses before feeling the tip of her strap peeking it’s way into your heat. you couldn’t help but let out an almost pornographic moan while you felt her forcing just the head of her strap inside of you. to say it was big was an understatement. it was huge. the tip of her cock alone was enough to make your eyes water. another whine from you was let out when you felt her hand smack your ass once more.

you grabbed fistfuls of the sheets just beneath you, trying to pull yourself up. it all failed once you heard bada growl lowly, forcing your hips backwards which caused you to take in her entire length.

you cried out loudly, giving in and letting your tears fall freely. bada laughed quietly at your given state. but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to absolutely ruin you right here right now. she gently started to pull out but was quickly stopped once your hand went back to grab hers.

“don’t take it out…please d-“

bada didn’t need you to tell her twice.

she shoved her strap all the way in one sharp thrust, her nails digging into your hips. you moaned her name out, your face falling directly into her pillow. she gave a few shallow thrusts, wanting to give you at least some time to adjust to her length. regardless, you kept whining underneath her, begging for more.

bada didn’t give you what you wanted. so naturally you decided to do what you thought was best.

you took the initiative and started rolling your hips back, shamelessly fucking yourself on her strap. you kept rocking back, wanting to feel every inch burying inside of your cunt. bada couldn’t help but let out a rather loud moan at the sight, her eyebrows furrowing while her face contorted into one of pleasure. her arm draped across your back before her hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your face back down on her pillow, your cheek pressing up against it.

“do you like the way it feels, mama?— shit, back that ass up on it just like that baby.” bada talked you through it as you kept fucking yourself onto the silicone cock attached to the older woman, her own clit becoming even more sensitive from the friction. she groaned right beside your ear once she lowered herself and hovered above you.

“so so so fucking pretty and good for me.”

she forced your entire body back down so you laid flatly across her bed. her strap coming out of your now painfully aching pussy. it’s not that it was actually painful anymore, it was the fact that she removed herself when all you wanted was to take her inside repeatedly until it became too much. and even then, you’d still want even more. your little crush on the older woman now becoming complete lust and desire, you wanted her more than anything ever right now.

and as if she could read your mind, she was giving you exactly what you wanted.

she placed her knees on either side of your body, her long legs slightly draping over your smaller ones. she pressed her body completely on top of yours. you could feel how hard her nipples were as they brushed against your back. bada grabbed her strap before aligning it directly in front of your heat. she let out a needy groan before shoving it all inside, chuckling slightly to herself when she heard you whining. her hands smoothing down your back and on your sides.

“so fucking pretty.”

bada huffed out in between each rough thrust, loving the way you cried her name out. you gripped onto the sheets once again, practically screaming into the pillow. your vision became blurred from the tears, your mouth biting down onto the pillow. bada did not like that one bit. grabbing your hair, she yanked you up towards her, your back pressing against her front perfectly. from this new angle, you could feel her thrusting even deeper. throwing your head back, you rested your head against her chest, her long arms wrapping your smaller figure. you choked out moans, your mind growing fuzzy. but god it felt so damn good.

“jesus christ, y/n you’re so hot. god you take me so well, don’t you? you like that?” she teased, biting down on your shoulder. she picked up her pace, thrusting faster, deeper. her hand trailed down to your lower stomach, pressing down.

“you feel that, princess? be good and tell me how good it feels, y/n.”

you turned your head slightly to look up at her, well, at least try to. you opened your mouth to respond but only managed to moan erotically, her hand still pressing down.

“feels so g-good— bada please!” you wailed out, reaching down to rub your neglected clit. you shut your eyes closed, letting the overwhelming waves of pleasure take over your entire body completely. bada smacked your hand away, not being too happy at your movements. instead, she replaced your hand with hers. her long fingers rubbing your bundle of nerves while she kept fucking into you.

you gasped for air as your legs started to tremble, your thighs growing weak. bada could tell just how close you were, and she was enjoying ever second of it.

“mmm, ‘m cumming bada i’m—“

once again, she pulled out completely. in which you let out a frustrated groan, lightly smacking bada’s arm.

“wanna taste you.” she whispered to you, kissing your cheek softly before taking the strap off and tossing it to the side. she turned over and laid on the bed, taking your hand and pulling you towards her.

“sit on my face baby, want you to finish here.” she pointed to her mouth, giving you her signature smirk as she winked at you. hesitantly, but still obeying, you climbed over on top of her until you hovered just a few inches above her face, not wanting to fully sit. you felt her kiss your inner thigh before she wrapped her arms around your thighs and forced you to sit on her face fully. immediately her tongue darted out, prying inside your heat. your eyes rolled back as you leaned over to hold yourself up, grabbing onto the headboard. her nails digging into your thighs as she devoured you. your hips started rolling frantically against her face, the top of her nose brushing against your clit repeatedly.

“o-oh my god yes…bada fuck please.” your grinding grew erratic, you felt yourself nearing your much needed orgasm.

you felt her voice vibrating through your cunt, but couldn’t make out what she was trying to say as she never once separated her tongue from working its way into you. her hand reached up to rub your clit, licking and sucking like her life depended on it.

she’s too proud to admit it, but she was getting off to this. her own hips needily bucking into the air with ever moan of her name you gave out, with every cry and whine, with ever lick she gave your cunt. and god was it her favorite.

all it took was one final lick and rub on your clit before you felt yourself coming completely undone. your body shook above bada, your thighs trembling against her head. you leaned forward to rest your forehead against the headboard, letting out continuous moans and wailing out bada’s name. the dancer lapped up the mess you made, helping you ride out your orgasm until she felt you stop shaking and recollecting yourself. her arms extended out to help you off of her. you managed to make yourself comfortable and laid next to the older woman, your breathing still heavy as well as hers. bada brushed some of the hairs out of your face, some of them sticking to your forehead due to the sweat. she kissed your nose and poked at it, giggling at your dazed state.

‘she just fucked me stupid and now she’s acting all cute, how is that even possible?’ you thought to yourself as you looked at her with admiring eyes.

“you did so well, princess.” she praised you, stroking your hair. all you could do was give her a small smile and lean into her touch. you scooted closer to her, burying your face into her chest. her heartbeat was still pretty fast. she wrapped her arms around you trying to pull you in even closer. she peppered kisses onto your head, whispering sweet praises to you. you felt your face heat up all over again as you grew nervous. which is very ironic given the fact that you had just been fucked by bada. you removed yourself from her chest to look up at her only to find her already locking her eyes with yours. you couldn’t help but laugh softly. she was so beautiful. her lips curled into a smile. before you knew it, your lips locked and soon grew to be a playful yet passionate kiss. you cupped her face with one of your hands, your thumb caressing her cheek. her teeth lightly nibbled on your bottom lip.

the sound of a loud ringtone could be heard coming from the living room. you smiled into the kiss before pulling away and kissing the corner of her lips.

“it’s my phone, let me go ch—“ you were cut off by bada pulling you back down.

“we’re not finished.”

just like that, bada had you pinned down once again.

———★✮꩜⋆

“ugh, why won’t she pick up the damn phone?” lusher sighed and threw her phone onto the couch.

“i’m sure y/n is fine! i saw her leaving with bada. actually, me and kyma saw them leave together.” minah perked up, trying to comfort a worried lusher.

“dude…they’re probably fucking..” tatter joked, trying to stifle a laugh.

lusher’s eyes widened at the thought, quickly shaking her head and trying to erase the image from her head.

“oh my god! they’re so fucking.”

[starlightazriel]

bee 10

series desc: modern best friends >lovers au(fem reader, tattoo artist coke boi az haha) part 10 psa: not everyone will like this part lol don't kill me borderline domestic violence/abuse

warnings: 18+, rough sex where reader is drunk(blurry consent lines, i know i have issues im sorry), unprotected sex, spanking, praise, bj, possessive az, dark az, more groveling, drug/alcohol addiction, az having lots of inner monologue, self loathing, depression

a/n: canon az would never do this omg hes an angel with women bee series az however is a hot mess PROCEED W CAUTION!!!! kisses xoxo

AFTER COMMENTS RECEIVED I ADDED A POLL FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS REWRITE OR PART 11 VOTE HERE

wc: 4.7k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist<3

ten

Azriel was watching the front door for hours. He knew she was back in town, he saw Kat's story. Y/n standing next to her, drink in hand. A grin, bloodshot drunken eyes, swollen from crying too, a tiny jean mini skirt, a crop top that was definitely Kats as it stretched too tightly over her generous breasts, nipples rings showing through the taut fabric. It had taken everything in him not to throw his phone through the flat screen. She was out looking like that, and he was here, miserable, sober besides all the weed he had smoked, which didn't do much for him anymore.

12:23 am.

He did clean up the house a bit for her... He couldn't let her walk into the mess he had created. He started with all of the trash, moved to the dishes, put any paraphernalia away back in his room, picked up all of his clothing strewn about the house.

1:37 am.

Fuck. The drawings. Azriel hesitated in front of her door, though he had been spending a lot of time in there recently, knowing she was back in the city, it somehow felt like a violation. That was ironic, considering how all of this had even started between them. It took effort not to physically cringe when entering her room, and his stomach twisted, cheeks burning at the realization that she had been in here. She had stopped here earlier before going to Kats. There was her bag. Right there, in the corner. His eyes settled on her bed, three of his drawings laid there carefully. He swallowed thickly as he looked at the drawings, each one made in the peak of his mental breakdown he had been going through since she left. One was of their hands, his own scarred flesh against her delicate smooth skin. One of her by herself, laughing, happy, his gut twisted. The last, of them kissing, him holding her face in his hands, tear stains dotted the page and that feeling of guilt that he was all too familiar with lately settled, dragging him down with it.

2:01 am.

Fuck. What the hell was she even doing? Where was she? He let out a heavy sigh before he picked up each and every one of the messy drawings he had done and brought them into his own room, shoving them deep into the filing cabinet by his desk. That was when the pacing about the entire house began— he couldn't possibly sit still now.

2:22 am.

Twenty minutes of pacing wasn't him doing any good, so on went the TV, he thought some cartoons should make him feel better and he settled on CatDog. Another spliff, some chips, cartoons humming in the background. It was better than going out of his fucking mind wondering what she was doing. Which he was still doing— but at least the mindless cartoons helped to drown out the voices screaming in his head, and the insatiable desire to do a line. He had forced himself to stay sober today... He wanted a clear head when he spoke to her.

2:46 am.

Azriel froze when he heard the doorknob turn, his heart beginning to pound wildly. He hadn't seen her since that night on her parents porch. What was she going to say? He had been preparing himself for the worst.

"You cleaned," a small hiccup, flushed cheeks, nervous, sad eyes avoided his as she entered the apartment. She was looking around, anything to avoid eye contact.

"I did," he rose to his feet, dropping the end of the spliff into a the ash tray he had been using. He took a few strides closer, freezing in the hallway when he finally got a good look at her. Lipstick smudged across her lips, hair disheveled, stray pieces falling around her face and eyes.

"Az," she whispered, her eyes widening slightly as they met stare that was growing angrier with each passing second, the emotion emanated from him, filled the apartment like a heavy shadow that pressed into her chest, that made her want to cower away from him.

He didnt know what it was, what over came him but he was in front of her in an instant, long scarred fingers grabbling her face, jaw clenched, grip tight around her own jaw, her cheeks squished, smudged lips smushed together. She's afraid of you, stop. She yelped quietly, eyes wild, wide with fear as she stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.

Stop now.

"What the fuck did I say?" it was a low growl, deep from his throat, she was drunk, he could tell, she could barely keep herself up, her knees wobbled, both hands curling around his arm, trying to pull him off of her. He knew this wasnt okay— no this was wrong, so very wrong.

Let her go.

"Az," she whimpered softly, her eyes glazed with tears.

Fucking stop— irreversible damage Azriel, stop now, before you can't.

"I told you not to fucking play with me. You fucking reek like booze and you look like a cheap fucking whore," a lie, his eyes flashed as it passed his lips, she thrashed slightly trying to free her face from his grip. "Stop fucking moving," he grunted, releasing his grip on her face to grab her neck, his fingers squeezing against her soft flesh, he felt her swallow beneath his grip, his blood thrummed.

"Az stop," she begged, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his arm, eyes wild and nervous as her nails dug into his skin.

"This is mine, its all mine," he rasped, his other hand roaming roughly over her body, "I swear to fuck— y/n if you gave my pussy up," he nearly choked on the words, his blood boiling and stomach churning at the thought.

This is wrong Azriel— stop, stop now. You should be on your knees begging forgiveness, stop.

This wasnt him, this wasnt supposed to be happening... This was his father— this is how his father treated women, not him.

"Az, I didnt," her voice broke as she rasped, her eyes were afraid but also— tender, because she knew him, she knew he didnt mean to treat her this way, she understood him on a level that no one else could.

"I should slap the fuck outta you for coming home like that," his fingers loosened on her neck, a sigh of relief escaping her lips with the motion. He didnt mean it, he would never hit her, his chest tightened, her eyes flashing as his words sunk in.

What the fuck is wrong with you? She's never going to talk to you again.

"Im sorry," she slurs softly, her glazed gaze dropping as if she couldn't look him in the eyes, guilt settled on her face. No, this is my fault, don't do that, don't look like that because of me.

"Don't be sorry," His voice was still firm but his eyes softened, swallowing the lump in his throat. I don't deserve you, run. Fucking run. "Just be a good girl and take off your whoring outfit," he finally loosed his fingers from her neck with a gentle push and she stumbled back, wobbly on her feet, she's drunk as fuck, don't fucking do this Az, this is fucked. Youre fucked, youre fucked in the head.

"You missed me didnt you?" she relaxed again allowing a small drunken giggle to escape her lips, she steadied herself on the near by side table before beginning to undress. His eyes followed her movements as her fingers slid over her silky skin and she slowly unclasped the dainty clips on her high heels revealing the fresh looking French tipped toes, his mouth watered at the sight of her.

Tell her how much you miss her. Tell her the truth, tell her youre sorry. Put her to bed Azriel, change her clothes, put her to fucking bed you sick fuck.

Anger outweighed his desire to do the right thing, he couldn't stop himself, what if this was his last chance to fuck her? To feel her?

"Keep going," he encouraged, his hard cock aching in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his sweats, he could feel the precum leaking from the tip, painfully so, he hadn't gotten his nut off since last time they'd fucked weeks ago. He watched as she slid the little mini skirt down her long smooth tattooed legs, many of them he had done himself. She looked so fucking good, shit he'd missed her. "Mhmm," he hummed to himself, his eyes burning into her skin, not looking away for even a second. She shimmied off the crop top next, her braless breasts bouncing deliciously as she freed them from the tight top. A soft involuntary groan escaped his lips at her now near bare body before him. He took a step toward her, placing his hand under her chin and tilting her head up so he could inspect her, she shivered slightly at the touch and he pressed his thumb lightly into her chin, his eyes raking over her bare skin.

"Azriel," she whispered, squirming slightly under his gaze, he froze at the small purply spot behind her ear, a little hickey.

"Oh youre so fucked," he let out a soft breath, poking the small bruise, she let out a small yelp, flinching away from him.

"Az! What is wrong with you?!"

So many things.

"What is wrong with you?" a soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes growing darker with each second that passed, he reached behind her, his body pressing against hers as he did, her breath caught, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. In a swift motion he cleared everything off of the side table in the hallway, the ceramic bowl that held their keys cracking on the floor, she winced, opening her mouth to say something but he grabbed her chin tightly again, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You come into my house, at almost three am, dressed like a fucking thot with a hickey on your neck, face all fucked up," he released her jaw aggressively, her head thrown to the side slightly, she let out a soft whimper, rubbing her chin. "Who gave it to you?" he demanded, placing his hand on her shoulder and whirling her around, pressing her against the table so her hips were flush with it, another small whine escaped her lips.

"It doesn't matter Az-"

"Tell me," he growled softly, his hand connecting with her ass in a sharp smack, she flinched, her hand finding the edge of the table and she held tightly. "Tell me," a warning edge in his tone

"E-Eris!" she yelped out softly, bracing herself for the next impact.

"Yeah, youre so fucked," he chuckled dryly, without an ounce of humor in his tone. Rage was coursing through his blood, red, red was all he could see. Fucking Eris, why? Why him? He didnt know why it infuriated him so much, maybe because he was so different from Azriel, practically opposites. How could she even be attracted to both of them? His pale perfectly smooth skin and red hair like the fucking devil, immaculate cleanness, infinite pockets and endless confidence and suave. He hated all of it.

"Az please," she begged, and he was too angry to even acknowledge the damage he knew he was doing.

"Youre soaking wet," he yanked her thong down, exposing her bare ass to him, his mouth watered again at the sight. "Is it because you like when I rough you up like this?" another smack to that same reddened spot on her bum followed by another soft whimper, her fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly. "Or is it because you like redheaded pricks?"

"Both," she bit back, her words slurred, he laughed again, that same humorless cold chuckle before his hand connected with her skin again, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. A shaky breath released from her lips as she braced herself for more, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Makes me sick you let him put his hands all over you. Act like a whore get fucked like one," his gravelly voice laced with intent as he released his hard cock from his sweats, they pooled on the floor at his feet as he wrapped his fingers around his thick length. She gasped softly, wincing at the sting as he slapped his cock on the round of her ass in that same spot he had spanked numerous times. His teeth sunk into his lower lip, cheeks flushed with anticipation, he had missed this.

"Youre mine, you understand me?" he asked, his tone sharp as he slid his leaking tip over her entrance, he hissed softly under his breath at the feeling of her wet cunt on his most sensitive skin.

"Yes Az, yes I understand," she rasped softly, another soft yelp leaving her lips as he shoved his cock into her, a low guttural groan leaving his lips. He had missed this so much.

"Good girl," he ground his hips against her ass, pinning her against the table, another small cry left her lips as he pulled his throbbing cock nearly all the way out and back in, the table shook beneath them. His thrusts were greedy, quick and unforgiving as she fell apart beneath him. Her pussy clenched around him, the tip of him dragging across her g-spot with every forceful stroke.

"Az," she let out a broken whimper, her mouth falling open, face twisting in blissful pleasure as she came all over his cock. He rasped a breath, surprised he hadn't been the one to cum first. Maybe she had been wound just as tightly as he was.

"Oh?" he breathed out, panting softly from the pace, small beads of sweat forming at his temples. "You came already?" he asked, a prideful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he ground his hips his cock filling her up so perfectly, her creamy release leaking around the base of his cock. She only whined softly in response which was only broken up by a soft yelp when he abruptly yanked his cock from her. Azriel grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up on wobbly legs before pushing her down on her knees.

"Go on," he grunted, his eyes glazed as he stared down at her, she was drunk as hell. He swallowed, wrapping his fingers into her hair and tapping his cock on her face, she loosed a breath, her jaw dropping open for him. She gagged as his cock hit her throat, not nearly fitting, he moaned, holding her head in place and fucking her face. "Fuck baby, good girl," he panted softly, his cheeks flushed, eyes glued to her, she moaned around him, her eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as he brushed the back of her throat over and over. He hummed in approval as she swirled her tongue around his tip, dragging it along the underside of his cock, over his balls and then back up, her lips wrapping around him again.

Azriel cursed under his breath, his fist tightening in her hair as he released his thick ropes of milky cum into her mouth, she nearly choked as it shot to the back of her throat, one of her hands gripped the back of his knee tightly as she swallowed every last drop and sucked his cock clean. She panted, shrinking down onto the floor a bit her knees nearly buckling beneath her. He released her hair as she sunk down, a shaky breath escaping her lips as he did, his gut wrenched at the sight of her. On the floor beneath him, body dusted with red marks that he knew would turn to purple by the morning, he left them there. Azriel swallowed thickly as he tucked his cock back away into his pants before leaning down, putting his hands under her arms to lift her.

"Come on, get up," his tone is soft as he helped her up, once she was on her feet he easily he picked her up, and she rest her head on his chest as he brought her to the bathroom. "You feel lighter... You eating?" he asks, the guilt beginning to gnaw at his gut.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking sick piece of shit.

"Mhm," was her only response, he let out another small sigh before setting her down on her feet. "Where's all my pictures?" she slurred softly, her eyes raking her her room.

"Put em away," he muttered, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he rifled through her clothing retrieving a soft cotton pair of panties and a long t shirt.

"I liked them Az," she mumbled lazily, her eyes closed as he dressed her in her more comfortable clothing. He winced a little at her words

"Bed time," he breathed, steadying her on her feet before scooping her up in his arms again, and placing her into her bed. He tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking them around her body.

"Why didnt you tell me you were moving to Vegas Azriel?" she asked, her words still slurred, he swallowed hard, tugging at his hair as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"We should talk tomorrow," he muttered, knowing she probably wouldn't remember the conversation if they had it now. She only nodded, her eyes still closed. Azriel reached out hesitantly and gently rubbed her back as she fell asleep.

He stayed there, watched her sleep, the soft glow from the string lights she had put up along one of her walls the only thing iGuilt gnawed at his gut, at his insides, he wanted to jump out of his own skin.

She deserved so much more than him... The little girl that he had shared his favorite candy with in front of her house, the girl that had saved him, so many times— she deserved the world, and he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't even keep her happy, the dark circles and the drop in weight proved that. It was his fault. All of it.

All day, he had gone all day without a single line.

And now— after he had taken advantage of her, put bruises on her, fucked her while she was too drunk to say no, said horrible fucking things he didnt mean...

Now he needed a fucking line.

-

A soft groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, pain, I was in pain everywhere— felt like I had been hit by a damn bus. My head pounded from the amount of alcohol I had consumed, my pussy was still lightly throbbing, completely beat up from last nights activities.

The house was quiet, but still my head throbbed.

My mind was fuzzy but I remembered pieces, remembered that I had made out with Eris, come home late, Azriel had put his hands on me- we had fucked. I groaned again, pressing my palms into my aching eyes.

Obviously, Azriel was out of fucking line— out of control. I hadn't thought our situation could get any worse, and now, impossibly worse.

Could I blame him for his actions when nobody taught him how to love someone? When I knew that his need for control had rooted from the childhood horrors he had once faced? Could I blame him for his actions when I knew his brain had developed around abuse and violence? No, I couldn't blame him.

Maybe I was in denial, but underneath it all? Still my Az.

Waiting on the counter for me was a latte and a breakfast sandwich from my favorite cafe, next to it a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it, my chest swelling at the bouquet he had drawn along with a few bees flying around it, the drawing was messy a few ink splatters where he had pressed the pen down too hard, but still beautifully done like anything he touched with his artistic ability. A small message scribbled at the bottom.

hope its still warm when you get up im sorry if you don't completely fucking hate me stop at the shop before your shift, i love you, azriel

Still my Az.

I sighed, frustration beginning to bubble within me. Always lax, always acting like everything was just fine. I was tired of it, I was tired of always just pretending like everything was okay when that dark cloud of depression had reared its ugly head weeks ago.

It was an effort to shower, to get dressed, I didnt have the will to put any makeup on besides a little mascara afterwards. Every movement felt heavy and painful and full of more effort than it should, but it wasnt only my physical condition from drinking an ungodly amount and Azriels- outburst. It was also my emotional state- my brain so utterly exhausted from all of the trauma I had been enduring in the past weeks. I couldn't even bare to look in the mirror for more than a few moments either, the fingerprint shaped bruises dusted along my jawline highlighted by the brightly lit bathroom.

It was even more of an effort to get myself out of the car when I reached the shop. Anxiety gnawed at my gut, would they ask? Would they even notice? It didnt matter, I needed answers. I needed answers to questions I hadn't even formed yet. The bells chimed as they usually did and the stares I received upon my entrance didnt do anything to sooth my anxious gut. The lack of clientele in the waiting room definitely helped, a little.

"Hey," I said wearily to Kat and Cass, I avoided eye contact at all cost, and found my usual place leaning against the counter. Kat was in her chair behind it, Cassian perched on a stool nearby.

"Hey boo," Kat says quietly, I could feel Cass' boring into me. Don't bring it up. I could tell by his lack of greeting he was about to.

"Y/n, please don't tell me Az did that," Cassians voice is soft but I could hear the concern laced in his tone.

"Is he here?" I ignored his question completely, I didnt want to get into it. Not now.

"Hes doing a tattoo, Cassians room is empty tho— if you wanted to wait for him, its been a couple hours, hes almost done," Kat didnt pry, she knew better, and Cass didnt protest when she offered his room up without asking first.

"Thanks," its slightly breathless, with an effort not to burst out in tears in front of them. I couldn't handle the worried stares— the pity. The door clicked shut behind me and I dropped my bag on Cassians piercing bed and slid into his chair. Alone, now, I let the tears of frustration flow freely. They were silent, but hot and streaming, I wiped my eyes with my sleeves, letting out an exasperated sigh.

I didnt know how long it had been when I heard his voice outside, I held my breath to listen. "She's here?" surprise, hopeful surprise.

"Az— Im not past putting you on the floor if you put your hands—"

"Im not," Azriel cut him off with annoyance. I straightened, realizing he was about to be in here.

I sniffled, wiping my eyes again quickly to try and hide the evidence of my tears before Az stepped in, in all his brooding glory. His face was grave, eyes impossibly more tortured than usual, hair messy and disheveled, chains stacked, poking out from under his shirt, he was in the same clothes that he had been in last night and it didnt look like he'd gotten an ounce of sleep.

"Leave it open," I commanded softly, I saw Cassian quickly look away and back toward Kat as Az began to shut the door. Hurt flashed in Azriels eyes, but he stopped, leaving the door where it was. It wasnt wide open, but open enough.

"You don't trust me," it wasnt a question, but a statement, and he was right, to an extent at least. I didnt think Az would hurt me— after last night... I wouldn't feel bad for asking him to leave the door open.

"Youre fucked up," I muttered when our eyes met, his pupils always a tell tale, he swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion. "Probably should have this conversation another time."

"I was always fucked up Bee, every fucking moment I was fucked up— it doesn't matter," he took a step toward me, I held my breath again, my eyes tracing every movement he made. "Im sorry." Another step, I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as I watched him drop to his knees in front of me.

"Sorry doesn't fix everything," my voice broke, he winced, his eyes boring into mine, showing me a vulnerable side Id never seen before.

"I know that," he breathed, and I almost broke all over again seeing the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Im so fucked in the head Bee nothing I did last night was okay- fuck- it was- Im sick Im sorry," he rambled, he slid his hands into his hair, his fists curling into it, his elbows on either side of his head.

"Its not okay none of it— the fucking bottle girls, the lying, last night especially... I- you asked me last night why I kept Vegas from you and I have nothing- I have no good fucking answer or excuse that makes it okay but I swear I was gonna ask you to come with me, like fuck y/n I wish you could see I wish you could understand—" rambling again, I let him, my tears flowing again, words failing me. "I would let Rhys fucking sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this fucking city without you," his cheeks were flushed, tears running down them, I hadn't seen this before... As well as I knew him he never showed this much raw emotion, besides anger. "I know Im a fucking addict and a fucking alchy, but Im trying to be better, I went to AA, Im trying to quit drinking, but Im fucked Bee- Im so fucked up from all the shit Ive never faced and Im so fucking sorry I put that on you lastnight."

AA, he had done that for me, my heart ached for him. To hear him say those things about himself, in front of his friends, my heart ached knowing how hard all of this must be, but for me, he was doing it for me.

"If you never forgive me I deserve that, I honestly do Im a piece of shit— a fucking stain on your very existence you deserve so much fucking more than someone like me," I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to stop saying all of those horrible things, as angry as I was at him.

"Im so fucking sorry," he breathed again, his voice breaking, with a sob. Az, my Az, the one who hid behind that cold stare and never let anyone in, the one who never let that hard exterior crack... Was on his knees for me... Every word, Kat and Cass could hear every single word, they could hear him cry, hear his confessions his countless apologies and he didnt care. He didnt care that they knew, he only needed me. He needed me like air to breathe.

And I felt it, I felt it with every ounce of me because I needed him just as much.

So I didnt hesitate when I reached for him, when I pulled his hands from his hair, and pulled him to me. His body went limp, his knelt form hunching over as he let his head fall into my stomach.

"It's okay Az, breathe," my voice was soft as I stroked his hair, holding him close to me while he cried.

I knew it wasnt okay, none of it was, but he needed me and I needed him, and the rest I would figure out later.

-

a/n: wow they are toxic and codependent hahaahahaha NOT FULLY PROOF READ EXCUSE MISTAKES

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@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies @durgenyx

[steddieas-shegoes]

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

In Love and War Pt II

Summary: Warlord!Rhys takes his mate back to his mountain camp and Tamlin's!sister!Reader has to decide the best way to try and escape

Content Warnings: Morally Grey!Rhys, talks of violence

Part I

--------------------

We ride for hours. The first two riders I’d seen join us after the first; they too have wings, tucked tight against their backs. Under different circumstances, I might be tempted to ask why they bothered with horses at all when they can simply fly, but thought better of it. The less I learn about them the better. All the easier to keep them in my mind as some faceless evil so I feel a little less guilty about putting an arrow in their eye when I escape. Rhysand has foolishly left me with my weapons, I'll put that mistake to good use when the time is right. 

By the third hour, we’ve left the bog and the forest behind, riding through what was once a sprawling plain but is now nothing but weeds. There is no magic left to keep this place fertile and thriving. Hybern’s Cauldron backed powers have stripped most of the land of its power, leaving ruin and famine behind in its wake. Little has managed to grow since, he’s been using the Cauldron to make sure a majority of the crops grow in his fields, where his slaves can tend them and ensure he gets the bulk of the harvest. There's nowhere to run out here.

Especially not when the rest of the riders regroup. There are twelve of them in total, all falling behind my captor as his great, midnight black stead takes the lead. 

I haven’t ridden a horse in a long time, could not afford to keep one, but the ones that I had, back in my youth, had never been this graceful. Even with my added weight the horse gallops like it has wings, swift as the wind, its blue-black mane trailing gracefully behind it. I almost don’t mind the ride, minus the circumstance and company, as the sun begins to set ahead of us, the sky a symphony of purple, orange and pink.

Eventually, we come to a river, flowing with large chunks of ice from a not yet frozen ice flow further upstream, where they stop to water their mounts. 

My captor dismounts first, large, gloved hands gripping my waist to help me down. By the Mother, his hands are so large against my hips! I’m suddenly very aware of my own size. 

“Don’t try and run,” he warns.

I glance around to my lack of escape routes and roll my eyes. “Darn, I was planning on throwing myself into the river.”

One of the others, the male I’d spotted first I think, snorts beneath his hood. 

Rhysand grunts out a warning before leading his horse to drink and filling a canteen he had tucked in his saddle bag. His back is, foolishly to me, I could easily draw my knife and stab him right here, but a quick glance around tells me that really would end with me taking a trip down the river. All his men carry swords and knives and there’s one with a wicked looking dagger strapped to his thigh; I barely reach the chin of the shortest among them, and that doesn’t account for at least a hundred pounds of muscle difference between us. I know that I have thinned, my ribs poking out beneath the heavy, hole ridden sweater. Some days I feel… brittle. Today especially. I’m not winning any fights against one of them, let alone twelve.

No, I just need to be smart. Wait for an opening, steal a horse, and run as far away as possible. So far, whatever this monster thinks I’m supposed to be to him has saved me from harm, I don’t plan on sticking around to see how long that protects me. Even if I did believe in mates-- as if the Mother ever cared enough about me to give me a soul tie to anyone--I’ve seen the worst in people enough to know it didn’t mean much in the end. What’s a mate but someone obligated to be a breeding mare? What’s a bond if not a magically induced aphrodisiac? I have little doubt that I’m actually safe here; just alive and conscious because it’s too much of a hassle to try and drag my limp body around.

My scheming comes to a grinding halt as Rhysand returns with the canteen, water sloshing the edge as he holds it out for me. It hasn’t occurred to me just how dry my mouth is until I see that water. 

Of course, I’m not going to let him know that. “No thanks.”

“I’m not going to poison you,” he returns.

“Poison's the least of my concerns,” I retort.

He grabs my hand and pushes the canteen into it. “Drink.”

“Bite me,” I snarl.

His men chuckle at that, which must upset him because his wings twitch behind him. He draws a deep breath before saying, “Ask nicely, mate.”

I should dump the water directly on his head, and my hand twitches around the canteen as I debate it, but in the end I decide against it. This male murdered half my family in cold blood, whatever thin amount of protection I might have remains only as long as he doesn’t think I’m a threat. To escape, I need to be smart.

On that subject, does he even know who I am? Does he remember riding into our camp that night, sword drawn, slaughtering my people as they jumped from their mats? Or were we just another blurred face in the mass of lives he’s taken in the name of conquest? He’s as bad as Hybern. Even if he has forgotten, I won’t.

I twist the lid back on without drinking anything, ignoring the way my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

“Don’t say I didn’t try,” he growls as he takes it back and slides it into his saddle bag. There’s a rolled up sleep mat, a blanket, and another sword all tied neatly to that bag. Nothing too heavy, meaning their encampment can’t be far. I need to find a way to get away before they reach it; there will be too many eyes there.

“Your bow,” he says, holding out his hand. 

My hand tightens instinctively around the belt across my chest, the leather worn and cracked from years of use. “No.”

“You can’t ride into camp with them.”

“Great, then you can just leave me here.”

It takes him two steps to be back beside me, and I’m embarrassed to admit how easy it is for him to snag the strap and yank it over my head, despite my best efforts to keep that from happening. 

“Give that back!” 

“The knife can stay, as long as you don’t do anything stupid,” he says like I’m a misbehaving child. 

He keeps his back to me as he ties my bow and quiver up next to his second sword, my stomach rolling at the sight of my things next to his. 

Rhysand orders his men to mount up as he turns back to me, and I get the impression he’s looking me over for more weapons beneath the hood. I still have no idea what he looks like. Ugly and scarred, like most warlords are, I imagine. I’d never gotten a good look at him that night, had only seen those three stars on his hood and that giant sword between his wings, dripping blood. 

“You won’t need any weapons,” he says, in what sounds like it’s an attempt to be gentle, but falls flat. “You’re safe with me.”

I’d have been safer with the kelpie. But I don’t say it, I don’t say anything at all as those large hands lift me back onto the horse, or when he swings into the saddle behind me. I don’t say anything when we cross the river, icy water biting through my thin pants, making my teeth chatter, or when the wind whips relentlessly at us as we leave the grassy plains and head into the mountains. The chill feels like a thousand needles being jammed into my skin, but I will bear it silently. He will not get the satisfaction of seeing me weak; will not be gratified by any sort of conversation for the duration of our journey.

Or at least, that was the plan. 

“You’re shaking,” he says, one hand gripping the reins as he uses the other to slide his cloak off his shoulders and over mine.

The material is thick, lined with fur inside, so startlingly warm between his own body heat and the fur that when it settles over me I give a little sigh of relief. The sleeves are too big, swallowing my hands as I try to pull it more fully over my body. “Thanks.” It slips out of me before I can stop myself.

“You still haven’t told me your name,” he replies as he settles around me again.

The smell of him, jasmine and citrus and the sea invades all my senses. I want, more than anything, to get it out of my nose, to keep the knowledge of him far, far away from me, but yet, despite my mind’s protests, my body burrows deeper into it. 

There’s still no encampment or settlement on the horizon, the horses moving deeper and deeper into the mountains as night falls around us. As long as we’re not stopping to make camp, I think I’ll survive. 

“And you haven’t told me yours.” If there must be a conversation, best I can do to buy myself time is steer all conversation away from me.

“I’ve had many names, but most call me Rhys.”

Most called him Death Incarnate amidst a number of things that would make a sailor blush, but I don’t think I’d ever heard anyone call him Rhys. That was entirely too normal. 

“Ok, Rhys,” it tastes like bile on my tongue, acknowledging him as anything other than the monster he has always been called back home. “Where are we going?”

The moon shines bright above us, illuminating the slender path we take through the mountains, a steep drop off on one side of us, nothing but sheer rock wall on the other. 

“Home,” he replies. 

I can’t help the scowl that escapes me, but at least he can’t see it. “And where is home exactly?”

“You’ll see soon,” he replies as he expertly guides his mount up a rocky path. There is no hesitation in his movements; he’s ridden this path many times.

I run a hand over my forehead. “I don’t remember coming this far out.” It slips out of me. If he knows this path then we’re close to the Illyrian borderlines, where his warband can make a semi-permanent encampment. These are grounds I’m not supposed to be anywhere near, nor did I think I was. 

“Where were you headed?” 

My brother’s made his claim through the Grasslands, the ground barely fertile to feed the livestock in the summer. With winter coming fast, he’d tried pushing his boundary lines into the forests near what had once been the Human Lands. I meant to go through the woods, skirting around Hybern’s slave camps and slip into the Uncharted Territories to find some game. I must have skirted too far past the slave camps when I’d lost my map running from those Highway Men.

“The Uncharted Lands,” I say because I honestly can’t come up with a lie that doesn’t make it look like I belong to Hybern or Amarantha. The boundaries between the warbands shift too often, encroaching too close. Sometimes I can barely tell who’s who and this is the only world I’ve ever known.

“Why?” He asks as we crest an incline and lead the men over a long, smooth plateau on the mountain’s western face. The wind is worse here, snapping at us like whips and before I can even burrow into my borrowed cloak, he’s drawing the hood of it over my head.

His arm tightens around my waist as he barks at his men to start riding single file. 

“Was looking for food.”

The horse’s hooves echo between the valley of rock beneath us as we press forward, the precariousness of our situation buying me time to figure out my lie. If I’m not hunting for my brother, what am I doing out here? It’s been a long day; a long week honestly. The rumbling of my stomach and the wind at my face and the warlord at my back seem to occupy the limited space in my quickly tiring mind. The hood of the cloak doesn’t help. It is embedded with some sort of magic, because even though it makes everything dark and warm, I can somehow see right through the fabric, right where that cluster of stars are, as if they’re eye slits. Magic items are rare these days, and expensive, I could probably buy out the Grassland’s market of deer jerky for this item alone.

Eventually the plateau dips, taking us down the other side of the mountain, into the misty canyon below. If I didn’t know where I was before, I really don’t now. Mountains are Illyrian territory, as forbidden and unwelcoming as the Imperial City Hybern had erected in The Middle centuries ago. I need to be paying attention so I know the way back; my eyes are sharp, sharper than most, I should be able to make out a deer path or trail easily, even in the dark, but my eyes are so heavy.

I give myself a little shake. Gotta be paying attention.

The swaying, even gate of the horse reminds me of being a small child, sitting in my mother’s rocking chair as she reads me to sleep. She and my father had always loved telling us stories, my father his made up theories and tales from the road, my mother her books and poems. I try to sit up and adjust my position in the saddle so I’m not slouching forward.

“You do not ride often,” Rhys says, his grip pulling me back more solidly against his chest, so I can feel all the hard planes of him. He’s got to be freezing without his cloak, even if he is still wearing long sleeves and gloves.

“No,” I bite back the rest of the story; how my people had suffered with the loss of my father. How Tam hadn’t been able to organize our survivors in the aftermath, how he’d been unable to store enough food for us that first winter and many of our rider’s had deserted. How he’d had to decide if keeping our stables full was worth the price of the lives hunger was stealing from us; how we’d been forced to eat and sell a few of them, my father’s prized war horse included. 

“We’ll change that,” he says, half to me, half to himself. “I think I like having my mate ride with me.”

I bite the inside of my cheek until it bleeds. At least I’m awake now. 

“You still haven’t told me your name.”

The mist settles around us as we step into the valley, even as the path ahead becomes nearly invisible, he doesn’t slow or get down to walk the horse. He knows where he’s going, has done this so many times he could do it blind. A rare gift many of our traveling cities don’t receive. Envy swells in my chest. I have never had  a place secure enough to set up a permanent camp. The Grasslands are our borders sure, but we move through them daily in fear of an attack, keeping ourselves vigilant for whenever Hybern or Amarantha decide they want more than they’ve already taken from us. Always changing our paths, our camp layout, always moving. How come this monster gets this luxury and my people don’t? 

“You are so hesitant to give it,” he muses, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Do I know it already?”

Shit.

“No, that can’t be right. Our bond is too obvious, I would have remembered.”

He’s as clever as he is quick on his feet, unfortunately.

“So I will know you by association, is that it?”

I should just fling myself off the horse and try to lose myself in the mist. If I’m lucky, maybe one of his men will trample me by accident and this horrible nightmare will be over. At least, if I’m dead I will not have to explain my failure to Tam, or face the alternative of being this male’s breeding mare. Neither is a future I wish to meet.

It is only then that an alternative solution occurs to me.

Tam said I couldn’t come back without food; I’d made a nuisance of myself back home and had swiftly suffered the consequences of it, and with winter coming in fast, my brother has to know he sent me on a fool’s errand. Perhaps intending to keep me out of his way for a while; or to finally get me to bend the knee and submit to his authority as warlord. I hadn’t been of age to take father’s mark, and my allegiance had fallen through the cracks in the years after. Until I was integrated, Tam couldn’t marry me off, as I suspected he wanted to do often, and was probably using this opportunity to try and make me see reason. A future I also loathed to picture. Perhaps, if I played my cards right here, then I could find something more useful than a deer to bring back. If I played along with this little mates concept, what could Rhysand show me? Couldn’t I use any knowledge he gave to my advantage? Surely Tam would find other uses for me than marrying me off with this sort of leverage. My brother was known for his grudges, if I found a way to offer up his enemy on a silver platter, perhaps I’d never have to worry about being married off again.

My stomach twists as the plot plays out before my eyes: This fool taking me into the lands my people had never been able to access before, convincing him to let his guard down, to show me where his people were vulnerable. I could get my hands on camp movements or their supply lines; I could count the fighting men or the horses, make list after list to take back in the place of a few meals I know deep down I’d never be able to find before winter. 

My parents faces flash before my eyes. My mother, so gentle and…sad. She had been sad long before my birth, always missing a home she couldn’t go back to because of Hybern. But she had always tried to be there for me. To sing to me and hold me. She had been good and kind and if she knew where I sat now… what I thought I might do…

And my father. He was cruel and cold and I’d spent a long time wondering if he’d ever loved me at all, but he had been a good leader. He had inspired the men, even on days that had been bleak. He’d been willing to shed whatever blood was necessary to ensure the survival of my people. If this opportunity had been presented while he was alive, he would have tossed a collar around my neck and dragged me to Rhysand’s doorstep himself. 

As for Tamlin, well if he so much as saw Rhysand’s arm around my waist as it was now he would have torn him to shreds. He would hate it, but I think my brother was as calculating and ruthless as my father had been. His protective nature could be overruled by what he deemed necessary to keep us alive. 

I’d need to play my cards right, if I was to make this work. “Yes,” and I force my voice to a whisper, my shoulders hunching in feign defeat. I will have to find ways not to look so utterly revolted about this male touching me; will have to bury all my base instincts to run and claw and fight every time he calls me his mate. But I can do it.

I will do it. For vengeance. For my angel of a mother. For the survival my father died for. I’d damn myself a hundred times over for a chance Tam had never found. 

He rests his chin on my shoulder, thinking and it takes every inch of willpower I possess to not shrug him off. A few hours together and this prick thinks he can just touch me so casually? As if I have no say in the matter because he is my mate and therefore owed whatever affection he sees fit to grant me?

“You can tell me, I promise I won’t hold it against you,” his voice is… gentle. Far more gentle than a man in his position should be and I have no idea how to respond to it. 

“My name is Y/N,” I saw softly, like I’m scared the wind will hear me. “Tamlin is my older brother.”

He stiffens behind me and I find myself holding my breath. This is it.

“He never mentioned he had a sister,” he says more to himself than me.

I almost audibly let loose a massive sigh of relief. “Yeah, well he isn’t too fond of me at the moment.” Never mind I didn’t know that he and Tamlin had ever talked on a mutual basis. Sometimes, usually over a mutually beneficial wedding ceremony, did rival camps come together and exchange weapons, food and sometimes training. If I remember correctly, I think there might have been times when we’d done so with the Illyrians, but never did Tam mention that he knew Rhysand personally. Rhysand was always a name whispered like a curse, as if saying it too loud would bring death and destruction upon us. 

“He sent you out here? Alone?” That last bit comes out like a growl.

“Banished, is more of the term he used,” I say under my breath, hoping the tone conveys embarrassment. 

“For what?” He hisses, his tone promising violence. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

Now what would convince Death Incarnate that I was something meek and fragile and in need of protection from my big, bad brother? If we really were mates, it would be in his nature to want to protect me, from both physical and emotional harm, but I needed to be careful. Too extreme a lie and I was likely to restart the war between our camps that had cost me my parents. I needed something to pack enough punch to convince him he needed to keep me close, to be looked after, but not so bad that it sparked a fight.

Perhaps my best bet was to appeal to the bond. “He wants me to take his mark,” I twist the sleeves of the cloak between my fingers as I speak. “So he can reap the benefits of marrying me off to one of Autumn’s commanders.”

Rhysand has gone still as death itself behind me and every nerve ending in my body feels like it’s on fire as whatever dark power lives within his skin comes to life. All my instincts scream at me to run, hide.

“But Eris is… cruel and I told Tam I couldn’t do it.” Eris was probably too old for Tam to try, but there had been talks, even when I was a girl, about how my father had wanted an alliance with Autumn, and Eris had his own history with the Illyrians. “He told me I needed to sort out my priorities and when I didn’t, he threw me out.”

“That’s just like him,” Rhysand snarls.

I bite down on my tongue to keep from snarling all the things I’d rather say in my brother’s defense. 

“How long have you been out here on your own?”

“About a week, I think,” I could say longer, but on the off-chance he has spies that could check that sort of thing--and I’m fairly certain the stories about Illyrians and their shadow agents are not far off--I’d rather play it safe. 

He brings his mount to a brief halt as two, looming carvings in the mountain’s face appear through the fog. The touring statues sporting the same great, talon tipped wings as Rhysand, stand guard over the pass ahead of us, their hewn sword held aloft. Sleeping wyverns lay at the base of each statue, their carefully carved eyes at eye level with us as the men fall in line behind us. The air is tinged with magic--overly sweet and oppressive-- as we approach, some sort of shield.

“From here,” he says softly in my ear, the mask still shielding the lower half of his face from the wind rough against my cheek. “You’ll never have to worry about being alone again.”

I’m going to be sick!  Play it safe. Play the game. For Tam. For Mom and Dad. I will myself to picture their faces again, to keep reminding myself what is at stake. 

Rhysand kicks the horse into motion again, passing through the shield with a flick of his gloved hand, soft ripples of magic parting for us like someone had pulled back a curtain. I’ve never seen anyone use magic so casually, so fluidly. Once all the riders have passed through, I feel the shield fall back into place behind us. No turning back now.

Ahead, the path begins to widen. At the far end of the path, still shrouded on either side by the mountains, sit two torches, the light guiding the way. When we reach them, the path dips dangerously into a valley, all filled with large, midnight black tents. More torches and bonfires light the cloth city, the sounds of drum beats and revelry beckoning from beneath us.

“I see the party started without us,” one of the men says from behind us.

“Devlon must have had a good run,” Rhysand muses as he takes us down into the valley. 

As the lights draw closer, I can start to make out the tribal markings and depictions sewn into the sides of the tents. There’s singing to go with the drum beats, all in a language that makes no sense to me, just like the markings. Something from the Mountains none of my people had ever been privy to. 

When we reach the outskirts of the city, we are greeted by two towering males, wearing little other than loose, dark paints and a smattering of blood red paint along their bare chests and faces. Each holds a spear, a dagger strapped to their muscled thighs. 

One barks something at Rhysand in Illyrian, his slate colored gaze fixed on me, still wearing the lord’s cloak. I’m grateful they cannot see my face, the fear I know will be clear in my eyes. It is hard enough to hide the trembling in my hands.

Rhysand dismounts to greet them, still speaking in Illyrian until they retreat into the maze of tents beyond. Despite the raucous laughter and music coming from the center, the rows of tents are organized into clear streets and sectors, some dancing bodies visible in between the rows, though most of the camp seems to be in its heart at the moment. 

He runs a gloved hand over the horses neck as he turns to face the men, their mounts dancing beneath them. “We will strategize in the morning.”

That is apparently dismissal enough, as his men bow their heads and kick their steads into motion around the outskirts of camp, soon disappearing into the darkness. My stomach drops as I realize I’m alone with my enemy for the first time all night. My anxiety only heightens as he takes the reins and guides the horse forward without a word of where we’re going.

I’m too scared to ask either.

Staying on the edge of camp means I cannot see any of what is happening within, though I glimpse bonfires and revelry often enough to guess. It is not unlike our own celebrations, even if the music is different.

Rhysand still doesn’t speak as we pass another group of sentries and head up a well worn path in the heart of the valley. The grass is lush here, would be up to his knees were it not for the cleared stretch lined by torches. It is quieter here, the music distant.

Overhead, the stars glitter like a million little diamonds, all the constellations I have memorized a stark contrast to the dark shadows of this hidden mountain world. We’re surrounded on all sides by mountains, shielded from view and harm by stone. It is so different to the rolling hills I am used to, it is nice to know that the stars, at least, have not changed.

The path leads to a secluded circle of larger tents, still black but stitched with stars not unlike the ones on the cloak I’m still wearing.

We pass yet another group of sentries as we approach, and only once we’re face to face with the largest tent in the circle does Rhysand finally stop.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

I should have run. Should have thrown myself into the river. Should have risked a quick death trying to fight my way out of this than subjecting myself to this.

Rhysand grabs my waist again and lifts me off the horse as if I weigh nothing. Compared to his size, I’m sure I do. In the torchlight, this is the first time I’ve managed to glimpse his face. I’d been drastically wrong about his appearance. The monster that haunted my nightmares was not some old, scarred thing as I had pictured, I wasn’t sure he was even older than Tam. A young lord, his features sharp, but clean cut. Some of his raven black hair fell loose around his sun kissed face, framing a set of violet eyes so bright they practically glittered like stars in his head, the rest was braided with strands of blue and purple thread. By far the most beautiful male I’d ever seen in my life and I think I hate him a little more for it. 

“You must be tired,” he says finally.

I don’t know what to do or say, so I just nod, which I think might be a mistake because now we’re heading inside the tent and all I can hear is the pounding of my heart in my ears because I have made a terrible mistake!

By some magic trick, torches flair to life as we enter, the soft orange glow cast in eerie patterns against the sleek black leather walls. On one side of the tent is a bed large enough to accommodate someone with such massive wings, piled with furs and pelts of various animals. On the other end, a table with some chairs and various weapons and books and trinkets scattered about the top of it. There’s chests piled in the corner, locked and dusty like they haven’t been opened since they’d been moved in. The floor is covered in a dozen different rugs, all overlapping in an attempt to make the place feel cozier but the patterns and colors are all so different that it looks like a whacky patchwork quilt. Clearly a layout chosen by a male.

“I apologize for the mess,” he begins as he takes off the scarf tied around the lower half of his face and places it over the back of a chair. “I… was not expecting to come across anybody out there, let alone bringing anyone back.”

“What were you doing out there?” My voice shakes too much for my liking and I’m convinced I asked that far too quickly to not be totally obvious, but it’s too late to take it back now.

“Scouting,” he says with no further explanation as he tosses his gloves onto a heap of more gloves on the edge of the table. 

My muscles stiffen as I watch him warily. If he starts undressing I might really change my mind and try to run for it.

I am prepared to do what is necessary for my people, but that is a line I cannot cross yet. Not tonight.  

He steps closer to where I stand dumbly in the center of the room, drowning in his cloak, and he nudges the hood off my face with his knuckles. 

I have to remind myself to stop biting my lip as the fabric slides off my head. Even fully clothed, standing this close to him, with those violet eyes drinking me in like that, I feel very exposed and vulnerable. 

“You’re shaking,” he says softly, his hand drifting down the side of my cheek.

I hate that I shiver under his touch. Hate that my eyes go to his full lips and how soft they look in this torchlight. I hate that I find him beautiful, hate that I do not pull away as he cups my cheek. I hate myself for putting myself in this position in the first place. 

“I…” this is not an act, I really don’t know what to do or say here. My chest aches with the way he’s looking at me, like maybe there really is some strange, mystical thread linking us together and it’s coming awake the more he has his hands on me. Yet my mind balks and screams all the same and I cannot tell which of them is supposed to help me do this. “This is a lot.”

“There’s no need to be afraid,” he assures, his voice low and husky, a tone I think might be better suited to the bedroom. “You are safe with me.”

Safe.

As if he could ever make me feel safe.

His thumb rubs circles in my cheek, the calluses along his palm from years of sword play scratching pleasantly across my skin. Violet eyes rove over me, studying the plains of my face like he’s cataloging every detail. “I’ll get you something to eat.”

I let loose a breath as he heads back to the tent flap, where his horse is still waiting.

“For now, it would be best if you stay here. Don’t go anywhere without me. At least, not until you take my mark.”

And then he’s gone, finally leaving me alone for the first time in hours, but even if I wanted to do some snooping, I can’t. All I can do is stand there as my stomach rises in my throat. 

His mark.

How the hell was I supposed to go home bearing Rhysand’s mark? 

I rub my temples with my fingertips. I need to find something useful to take back to Tamlin and get out of here fast, because if I don’t, I may never be allowed to go home again.

---------------------------

Tag List: @judig92, @randomperson1234sblog, @nyxbranwenn, @lilah-asteria, @barb00235, @landofpetrichor

Let me know if you would also like to be added to the Tag List! I have a good couple of chapters planned :)

[fanaticsnail]

Hi! This is anon with the doctor oc.

I have not a request but just a thought. Imagine Doc revealing to the crew that flowers can be edible (I think it can be new info for most of them) just for it to backfire immediately because someone is trying to eat a poisonous flower the next minute

What Did You Eat, Bubblegum?

Hey Doc Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,600+

Synopsis: Sharing your passion has ended in un very foreseen circumstances, but leaving you a little upset regardless.

Themes: Platonic!Bubblegum x gn!reader, Platonic!Killer x gn!reader, softness, little bit of flirting, allergic reaction, poisoning, venting, swearing, medical practice, patient x doctor, terms of endearment, reader is referred to as "Doc" - the doctor of the Kid Pirates

Notes: As someone who has a basic guide for foraging on edible weeds and native plants in my home country, this is very dear to my heart. I use flowers in most of my cooking, especially as garnishes. Onion Weed (three corner leek) is my favorite edible flower. Screengrab from this clip.

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sinning-23 @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @nerium-lil

“Oh, come on,” you whisper beneath your breath, hastily rolling back the sanitary lining sheet for your treatment cot to house its next victim. 

“Hey Doc," the voice of the hulking first mate called over from the threshold of your office door, "Got another one for you.” Bubblegum was heaped over his shoulders, his face three-times what it ought to have been. 

Bubblegum was hastily placed down in a heaping thud, his head immediately flopping backwards and his mouth hastily gasping and gulping for air. His skin was blotchy and donning the same vibrant hue of purple as his lengthy hair. 

“What did you eat, Bubblegum?” you gently coax your sensitive crewmate, noticing the rise in welts and pus-filled boils forming beneath the surface of his skin. Bubblegum attempted to smile at you, his teeth drawing back to reveal a sheepish grimace. 

“Wih wahs’ah fauwah,” he muffled past his abnormally puffy lips. Your puzzlement was depicted on your brow as you looked to Killer. He sighed, rotating his head on his shoulders and donning the 'hat' of 'muffle-translator.' 

“It was a flower,” he nodded to you, gently walking to perch his hips against the back of your office chair. 

“And where did you find it, sweety?” you asked Bubblegum as you donned your hands with latex gloves. 

“Doun bai n’dah wayah n’ groien’ i’da reyds,” you nodded along to Bubblegum's muffled words before looking over to Killer. 

“Down by the water and growing in the reeds,” Killer bobbed his mask along with each nonchalant explanation. You nodded, looking over to Bubblegum and readying an aloe-based balm for his itching skin. 

“And what color was it?” you bit back your growing smile as you added, “Be as descriptive as you can, sweetheart. It helps with every detail to know how to treat you.” Killer rumbled a soft growl below his breath as Bubblegum began to explain himself. 

“N’ah sem ehz woit n’dah pels ‘er ewow,” you sucked your entire bottom lip into your mouth as you turned away from both men, overcome with the ridiculousness of the encounter, and stifling a laugh with knowing Killer would have to translate for you. “N'ah miwow ehz weyd n’deyre wahz bwaek speirz grewin’ aouda n’dah senn’r. D’ehr wayah wah’z pewlin’ inah cwoiyew ahda boyum.” 

Without missing a beat, you straightened your back and bore your eyes directly into Killer's mask and waited for his translation. He huffed back a guttural growl, inhaling deeply as he translated for you. 

“The stem was white and the petals were yellow, the middle was red and there were black spikes growing out of the center,” he uttered concisely, “The water was pooling in a coil at the bottom.” You nodded, gently mincing up a remedy with your mortar and pestle and bringing up a drawstring bag. 

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded along, placing down your mortar and pestle and removing a portion of the creamy aloe concoction and pasting it on his features, “And what did you learn?” Bubblegum’s face blushed a soft hue of pink as he widened his eyes to depict his innocence. 

“Notta gow fowahjin’ ithow m’hawaht doktnar,” he uttered sorrowfully. You smiled down at him as Killer translated for you. 

“Not to go foraging without the ship's doctor,” Killer uttered nonchalantly with a soft shrug. 

“My hot doctor, you mean,” you nod back at him over your shoulder, finishing off with Bubblegum and giving his shoulder a soft squeeze. “Use this balm until the itching, swelling and bruising goes down. Okay, sweet pea?” 

Bubblegum nodded along and gave you as much of a close-lipped smile as he could muster. The purple-haired crewman exited your office and closed the door behind him, prompting you to exhale while removing your latex gloves with a curt ‘snap.’

Just as you began to relax, two arms snaked around your waist and tugged you back into the wall of flesh and muscle behind you. You shrieked in response, your whole body growing tense with fright. 

“You little shit,” a husky pur called down into your ear, forcing lighting to surge from your coccyx up to your cranium in a fizzling crackle, “You could understand Bubblegum the whole time, couldn't you?” A small squeak was pulled from your throat. 

His arms felt like everything all at once, overwhelming your senses. Secure and welcoming, taunting and warning, strong and intimidating: all of the things you knew Massacre Soldier Killer to be. You lulled your head back on his chest, looking up at his mask adorned face and giving him a coy, pouty smile. 

“I didn't want anything to get lost in translation,” you shrugged in his arms, clicking your tongue up at him with a mocking taunt painted on your lips, “Didn't want to miss an opportunity for you to use that pretty voice I love so much, big guy. It's always a joy to fuck with you a little bit.” 

“Oh, you're a little bratty today,” he purred down at you, the hue of his icy blue orbs gazing dangerously down at you through the several holes in the mask, “What's got you in such a shit mood, hm? Wanna tell Daddy about it?” You refused to pay his comment any mind, instead shrugging out of his arms and tidying up your work bench. 

“You know, if you keep using that one slip up against me, it's gonna lose its charm,” you scoffed at him, ridding the cot of the sanitary lining and throwing it into the trash compartment beside the bench. You spray down the leather lining to sanitize it, wiping it down and casting away the disposable material in the same trash compartment. 

Killer continued to watch you, eying you off and reading your body language with ease. 

“So you don't want to talk about it?” he offered you, spinning your desk chair around to watch it rotate with a soft squeak at the metal base, “Gonna do that thing you do and pretend you're fine until you explode?” You huff out a puff of exasperated air and turn back around to him. 

“Look, I'm just a little pissed that my idea of fun turned around and detonated in my face, is all,” you pout at him, folding your arms and glaring at the trash compartment at the side of your bed. “When I borrowed that book on edible plants for remedial purposes from the Blackleg chef, I should've known it'd turn to shit. Sometimes I forget the crew I serve with, I should've known better.”

“You shouldn't feel apologetic for your enthusiasm,” his tone was solid and baring a hint of warning, “We love your enthusiasm. I-... I love your enthusiasm.” His stutter caught you off guard, prompting you to arch your brow at him. 

“I'm fully aware of how much you all enjoy my enthusiasm,” you arch your neck and look down your nose at him, your pout still evident on your features, “I just wish you'd all check in with me before eating random shit you find on the side of the bay.” 

Killer’s soft, high-pitched giggle prompted you to drop your pout and offer him a soft, half-smile. His laugh continued as you joined yours alongside his, softly reaching forward and placing your hand on his scarred, left forearm. 

“Alright, alright,” you squeeze his arm and teeter off your joint laughter, “Let's get back to work, yeah? I've gotta do some paperwork correspondence with Trafalgar.”

“Trafalgar?” you could hear the audible arch in his brow, his disdain depicted in his tone, “Why?” 

“He was asking about something, is all. Something to do with my dissertation paper back when I graduated,” you shrug, gently releasing his arm and turning back to your desk. “I don't get to geek out about my thesis often, and getting his questions via Den-Den made me feel passionate about my studies again.” 

Killer nodded along with you, slowly returning your desk chair back towards your desk and gently coaxing you to sit down in it. 

“Dinner’s in about about thirty to forty, if you're coming,” he uttered beneath his breath. As he turned away, he felt your hand clutch his wrist and hold him in place. He gently glanced down to look at you, your face not leaving your desk as you withheld your growing fluster. 

“Thanks, Kil,” you continued to hold your eyes fixed on the desk in front of you, “For listening to me, I mean. It means-... It means a lot to me.”

He leaned down, his mask brushing it's brow gently against your temple. 

“I'm happy to be on ‘Doc Diffusal Duty’ any time,” he whispered softly before pulling away, “You wanna talk, know I'm here, alright?” 

“You're the best, big guy,” you give his wrist two rapid squeezes before letting go of it, returning back to your writing. Killer halted at your door, glancing back at you and watching as you returned to scratching and marking your journal and shifting through the papers. 

“It's paella, by the way,” he called back over to you, “Just in case you were wondering.”

“I'll have an epinephrine on standby for Wire,” you called over your shoulder, “We both know there's no holding him back from your cooking.”

“Oh, Doc,” he clutched his heart in feigned dramatical emphasis, “You flatter me, but there's really no need.” You paused, cocking your head to the side and your brows knit in puzzlement. Killer giggled softly before his regular baritone cadence returned. 

“I used chorizo as a substitute for shellfish, just to give you a bit of a break.” 

Before you had the opportunity to turn the entire way around, you noticed Killer was already away from darkening the threshold of the doorway. Your bottom lip quivered at the thought that he changed the menu just to suit both Wire’s anaphylaxis, and to give you a break from playing disciplinary warden and watchdog. 

You were definitely going to volunteer for washing up duty as payment for his thoughtfulness.

[pinecipitation]

Hiii could you possibly do like..smiling friends with a reader that’s on their period headcanons?

I GOT U BRUH TRUST ‼️

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER (with fem aligned anatomy, if you bleed then this you shall read‼️

word count: around 500

content warning: nothing I think

credit to @kryloxen for the what size joke in charlies bc they’re the funniest bitch I know

PIM: prioritizes treats and food

- he’s got sisters, he knows a thing or two because he’s seen a thing or two

- will be very understanding and empathetic, out of anyone he’d be the nicest

- would probably know ur week is coming before YOU know, and is prepared as usual

- I’m a huge candidate of baker pim, I believe he’d bake sweets and remake your favorite desserts just so you always have a sweet treat around

- he has enough knowledge on products to be able to pick up stuff in stores for you, but if he has to talk to an employee he’d stutter and blush a little, but my god he’s getting u ur damn tampons

- again, super into sweets and treats, will come back from the store with bags of anything you want and crave, he’s a very sweet boy

CHARLIE: prioritizes comfort and warmth

- “ayo i’m at the pad aisle what size pussy you wear?” hurry up he’s getting weird stares

- you’re always more than welcome to wear his oversized clothes and hoodies, he actually subliminally encourages you to but seeing you lounge around in his stuff makes him feel like he’s helping

- heated blankets, multiple blankets and pillows, hoodies, HIM even, everything about charlie’s home and charlie himself is warm, cuddly, and comfortable

- will ask a thousand times a day if you’re cold, if you’re hot, if you’re lying about not being hot, and is often on standby with either a warm drink or a cold glass

- always overuses the same “wings? wtf is it gonna take off” joke on pads

- jokes around too much to a point where it almost aggravates you, but at the end of the day, if he sees you start to get annoyed he will always offer himself as a cuddle buddy and offer couch time and a movie

ALAN: prioritizes peace and meds

- medicine cabinet stock full of any pain or sleep pills always, you’ve never had to make him go to the store at 11pm for anything

- like pim, will also know your week is coming sooner than you do

- always has meals and hydration prepared for you, is extremely into making sure you get every vitamin and protein your body needs in these trying times. like seriously he has a full water bottle that he needs you to finish daily

- is not afraid to yell at his upstairs neighbors to shut up, or a kid on the street to stop screaming. he values you and would rather die than overstimulate you even indirectly

- will always draw nice baths and include your favorite scents, again I see him as a huge hygiene person so trust he’s got that bath and body works set of whatever smell u smelled once and liked

- loves quiet time where you both are near each other but just sit on your phones respectively or watch a show on low volume in the background of something else. it’s like allowing yourself to do what you want, but still be near the other person

GLEP: prioritizes za

- would say ew and then offer you weed

[sweptawayghost]

Light My Fire PT.1

PAIRING: Joel Miller X Reader

DUEL POV

Word count 6.8K 

CHAPTER WARNING: male masturbation, mentions of alcohol, age gap, mention of guns, slow burn, pov,flirting, friends to lovers, mentions of choking, angst, fluff

Series summary: Joel Miller is down bad for the first time in a long time. After him and Ellie arrive and settle into life in Jackson, Joel is itching to get out. He becomes your patrol partner but he could be so much more if you give him the chance. 

This will be a slow burn 

Anything written in italic indicates someone talking to themselves

Hello anyone who cares enough to read this!

So I had previously written two parts of a series I was planning titled “In Dreams” . Since then I have decided I want to change how I write this and have decided that a good old fashioned POV would be more enjoyable to write. So this will be the main series but I will leave my previous works up. if you have already red my first part of In Dreams you don't really need to read this one but i have changed a few things

Thank you for reading and as always your feedback is appreciated!!!!!

///

Joel Miller was down bad. 

He found himself wondering how far too many times. He was sure he'd sworn off love and romance but then there you were. With your toothy grins and your warm palms. Eyes that made him feel safe and seen. 

Your laugh filled his ears and swelled his heart. He would do anything to be in the same room as you, he would move where you move, he would go where you go, He could listen to you talk about anything and nothing as long as you kept looking at him and laughing at his stupid jokes. 

He wishes he could tell you right now how badly he wanted you. He wishes he could let you know how important you were to him, how he would move mountains if it would make you smile. 

He hoped you would see how much Ellie loved you.

Joel saw the spark return to her eyes thanks to you. He loved that you cared about her so much, as if she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world. 

How you fed her, brushed her hair for her. You happily opened your home to her when you knew Joel would be gone for a night or just to make sure she wouldn't be alone. 

There were just certain things that Joel couldn't provide for Ellie. But He knew you could. He wanted you to be in her life regardless of how he felt for you and how you felt for him. How do you feel about me? 

///

JOEL

I draw my eyes down to the half drunk glass of whisky that rests lazily in the palm of my hand. 

The late afternoon light comes flooding in through the doors as a young man runs into the bison and jumps behind the bar and through to the kitchen. The chill of the fall air sweeping in alongside the light. 

I've always liked fall. I loved the feeling of the warm sun pouring down on me in the mornings and the burning numbness in my fingertips when the sun begins to set and the chill of night starts breathing down my neck. I loved the way the leaves changed and morphed into shades of a fire, I liked how delicate they seemed, ready to be swept away at the slightest gust of wind. I loved the way the earth smelt, especially when it rained. 

I loved the way the earth started to soften and sink, It made it easy to track. Rain brings water and water is a lifeline. 

It was also nice to see the town prepare for the cold months that were about to come. People up on the roofs of their homes, cleaning gutters, fixing shutters and patching broken windows, salting meat and tanning hides, pickling and preserving anything they could. Preparing the green houses, people dragging bags of soil and horse shit to the doors, weeding, turning soil. People worked steadily but they never seemed rushed, as if there wasn't a sense of urgency or an immediate threat looming over their heads everyday. Sometimes it just seemed like a normal, sleepy, small town. In a normal world. On a normal day. 

I move my eyes to my brother sitting across from me, even though he's right in front of me I feel a million miles away from him. It makes me a little sick to see how unfair the years have been to him. It might also just be because I just never envisioned him this old before. I always saw him how he was when he was twenty. So full of life, happy, electric, even when he shouldn't have been, it probably would have saved him from getting into a few scraps back in the day and it would have saved me from a bloodied nose when I had to step in and help him. 

Now he looks… sad

Distant, cold and old. His eyes that once lit up with fire now sunken and barely an ember burning in the night. I wish he was fatter as well. It would probably make me feel better for not being there for him, for letting him endure all that he has without my help. Maybe I shouldn't blame myself. Afterall, he was the one who left. 

I still wouldn't trade him for the world. 

“So your patrol partner…” Tommy's voice pulled me back into the moment. The door swings shut with a soft thud and suddenly the sound of patrons and chatter fills my ears again.

A million miles away

“You’ll like her but…” he trails off looking down into his own glass, the lights in the bison were low and warm, it felt like a hug, it felt warm it also made everyone seem warmer and more alive, more vibrant. 

Tommy let the corners of his mouth turn upward, almost smiling “ She’s shy, she's real weary of new people so no offence intended” he stated, pulling his glass up to his lips and sipping its content. 

No offence intended?

“Is that your subtle way of tellin’ me she a bitch?” I raised an eyebrow at my brother and let my eyes roam over to the door again as it swung open, letting in more fresh air that settled on my forehead that I didn't realise was burning until now. 

“Some would say” is the only reply he was offered

Some would say. 

But Tommy wouldn't. 

Now Tommy may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I trust him when it comes to people. He seems to have an inapt ability to tell when someones genuine and when someones about to fuck you over.  I trust him with this one. I wouldn't trust him to set a trap, or to wake up when he was told to. I wouldn't trust him to drive a tractor in a straight line and I wouldn't trust him to borrow and return my tools no matter how many times I remind him. But this I can trust him with. 

“She's good quality” He continues “if she asks you some out of pocket shit it means she likes ya” another smile threatens to bleed across his face “ And if she treats you like you're stupid then she really likes ya” He throws the rest of his drink down his throat before dropping his glass back down to the table. 

I let the side of my mouth curl up with his words, knowing exactly what he means before I pull back the rest of my drink.

///

As I walked home that afternoon I thought about how surreal everything felt. It sometimes felt like I was watching a movie or tv show and not actually living this life. 

Tomorrow I’ll be going out on patrol with a new partner. Tommy had taken me out a few times teaching me the ropes, not that it was necessarily complicated work and while I knew after a while I would be placed with a new partner I was worried. It was easy with Tommy, we would communicate so much with only the nod of a head, we knew each other's limits, no need for small talk or to fill the air with unnecessary chatter because some people can't sit with silence. 

Tommy knew exactly what button to push when it came to me. This was a blessing and a curse, especially given that I knew exactly how to push back. 

I’m not scared of new people… but I am scared of stupid people, im scared that this person will crumble under pressure and fuck up. What if they make a stupid move that costs me my life, what if they leave me for dead, what if they don't know how to turn the safety off their gun because they've never had to point it at anything. 

 I filled my time in between patrol shifts with Tommy by completing handyman duties, fixing things made me feel useful, like I wasn't so much of a burden and I was earning my keep at least. Not like there was a shortage of jobs around here, it seemed like there was always something to do, patch up a fence, sweep out a barn, fix a hinge on a door, one of the women even asked me to come over and clean her pipes, I told her I wasn't qualified for that kind of work, the sexual innuendo not lost on me, just didn't wanna give it up for a woman who thinks that a cheesy line like that would work on me. 

I just kept on moving from one thing to the next, I couldn't slow down. I didn't want to slow down because that would have given me time to think. 

A small group of five or six kids runs past me in the street grabbing my attention and pulling me out of the mental nightmare I was about to fall into.

Sometimes it's hard to believe that we are here, that the threats of the outside seem like a distant memory and that we don't have to fight tooth and nail to make it to the next day. 

This notion also made me feel uneasy. I feared what this would do to me over time, letting myself relax and letting my guard down. When we arrived, Tommy asked that I surrender my pistol, only temporarily until I “acclimated”. Tommy and big words aren't a usual mixture, it's kind of like putting hot sauce on vanilla ice cream. Without my gun I felt naked, like I have no means of defence, even now as I walk down the street I feel the absence of its weight on my hip. 

I wasn't used to people smiling at me as I walked past them, I wasn't used to women smiling at me when they walked past my house,sometimes 3 times a day. I wasn't used to finding ‘ready to cook meals’ at my doorstep when I came home and I wasn't used to small tokens and gifts left on the front doormat, books, notepads, pens, paper clips and rubber bands, thumb tacks, shoe laces, toilet paper. Almost insignificant things, but now seem like so much more. 

///

I Woke up with that feeling in my chest… again. like a high calibre bullet has blasted through me for only a moment. For a moment, I'm back in the basement. I'm on the freezing concrete floor laying on top of a barely there mattress and my back is so sore I feel like I'll never be able to get up. For a moment, there's a pain in the left side of my abdomen and it hurts worse than the feeling in my chest and the pounding feeling in my head. For a moment… 

I open my eyes letting the blue hues of the morning sky flood my vision as it spills in from between my curtains and paints itself on my walls and ceiling. I try not to let my mind go there. I try to keep those memories packed away. I try to save them in case…  Well, I don't know right now, but I know that thinking about it isn't going to change it.

 I pull myself up and hang my feet off the side of the mattress, rubbing small circles into my chest to try alleviate the pain that's decided to set up camp there. 

I let reality wash over me again. 

I'm safe. I'm okay.

As if those words should make me feel better, as if I deserve to feel that way after everything I've done. 

In the time since Ellie and I have arrived I've set up a routine for myself. I need to keep busy and I need to keep moving. Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. Coffee has entered my life again and like a toxic lover I just have to keep going back for more. I don't know how I ever lived without her, she's the devil in disguise, she's dark and deep, while the instant stuff was nothing compared to the real shit, but i couldn't love it any less. 

In the weeks that Ellie and I spent getting settled into the house, I quickly learnt all the creaks and cracks the house made as you moved through it. On really windy days it was almost like it was breathing with the way it groaned against the wind.

I pulled open the front door, pushing my shoulder into the wood as I pulled it back so the swollen wood wouldn't make too much noise when I pulled it away from the door frame.  It's funny how every sound seems like it's amplified when the suns not out. I whirl my head around to look up the staircase, I can see Ellie’s bedroom door from where I stand, the blue light casting the whole house in a dream-like shade of blue. In a few hours she'll (hopefully) be up and well on her way to school. 

I know it's definitely not her favourite thing and trust me I think school for the most part is a waste of time but I have seen her hand writing and i've seen her try to stitch up a wound and I doubt that she could point out which berries are safe to eat and which ones will turn your insides to gravy. 

Unlike the QZ, this school would actually be helpful to her. Besides all that… she needs friends, she needs connection, she needs to feel safe and not just with me. 

Stepping onto the front porch with socked feet I let the steam of the coffee swirl around my face and inhaled the chilled morning air. The streetlights glow softly on Jackson's main street, a few blocks aways from the place I now call my home. I hear the soft murmuring of people start to make their way into the mess hall for breakfast before starting their daily assignments. It reminded me of before. 

When Ellie and I arrived back in Jackson for good we didn't have much more than the clothes on our backs, we both smelt to high heaven and my feet felt like they were going to fall off, my face hurt from squinting my eyes and my lips were cracked and bloody. When I looked at Ellie I felt my heartbreak, as much as I was hurting I knew she was hurting ten fold. She looked so defeated. 

The community had put together something of a welcome basket for us. The house was stocked with towels and sheets, the wardrobe had some clothes in it, t-shirts and a winter jacket as well as some thick socks, the ones I wear now. A pair of jeans, underwear and even some shorts… I will never trust a grown man who willinging wears shorts.

Ellie got more or less the same items, even a few dresses which remain discarded in the back of her wardrobe, finally she got a new pair of shoes and not those shitty canvas ones that would leave her feet soaked to the bone. 

Soaps, toothbrushes and toothpaste, lip balms, conditioner and shampoo, razors, a hair brush and a comb. All such simple items which now seem like they are worth their weight in gold.  The bars of soap were imperfect and misshapen, the toothpaste came in a powdered form in an old glass container that looked like it once housed a candle or some kind of ointment. So many of the clothes had holes that had been patched over and mended in some way, same with the sheets and towels. 

The items and all their imperfections made them even more special. Handmade and hand mended. Someone cared enough to see the potential in salvaged items that were otherwise discarded and left behind. 

I remember that first shower I had. 

I wanted to cry

Maybe I did cry, it's hard to tell. 

I remember how it felt. Human, warm, like I was wanted, like someone was holding me and stroking my skin with a thousand fingertips. I wasn't just having a shower, I was washing away all the blood that had dried in the cracks of my skin, I was washing away all the grime that clung to me like a stubborn headache, the sweat, the guilt, the tightness in my chest that I knew would be there tomorrow when I wake up but in the moment it felt like it was gone forever.  

I felt guilty taking so much when I had taken away so much already. You have to stop thinking that. 

I can almost imagine the last twenty years were just a really bad and vivid nightmare as I stand in the crisp air of the morning. The neighbourhood starts to stir and begins to breathe to life before the sun makes its way over the hills. I close my eyes and drag in a breath and release it as I drop my chin to my chest. The sound of gravel crunching under foot, muted conversations and the sound of my neighbour walking around the upper level of their home. All familiar sounds, now alien. 

I crane my neck from side to side to relieve some pressure from the ache that lives there.

When I look down at the woolly socks that cling to my feet I notice a growing hole in the right foot, where my big toe lives, the pad on the heel also beginning to thin out, ready to throw in the towel any day now. Shame, I thought to myself, I really liked these socks. 

///

I make my way down to the gates of Jackson. I remember Tommys words from yesterday “If she treats you like shit she really likes you” 

I'm not one to shy away from a challenge, I like straight forward people but you have to be careful it doesn't fall from being blunt to being an asshole, I like to think I've perfected that. If this new partner of mine wants to believe that she's better than me because, what? She’s been here longer? She knows the routes better? that’s fine but if she fucks up and makes a fool of herself I’d be very happy to give her the reality check she needs. 

I pass a few friendly faces as I walk down the street, offering a wave because that's the neighbourly thing to do. Neightbourly. The concept seems odd when you've seen the things we have. 

Arriving at the gates I never expected to see you. 

In fact you were probably the last thing I would have expected to see on patrol at all, you looked so… young. Like the world hadn't gotten its claws into you yet. 

your face held no expression as you looked straight ahead at me, actually it was more like you were looking through me.

 Your face looked fresh and warm, your lips looked so soft, your cheeks all rosy from the chilled air. The sweater you wore swallowed you and a few strands of hair fell into your face as you moved towards me. 

You looked serious but when I looked into your eyes I could tell you were soft. 

You were a hell of a lot younger than me that's for sure and I began to imagine how you Were before all this.

What are you like now?

Would you leave him bleeding out in the woods?

Would you be one of those chatter boxes that would rather spew bullshit than shut it? 

Have you ever killed someone?

Have you ever killed infected?

What do you sound like?

Oh shit her mouth is moving she's talking to me.

“I'm sorry what?” I say, I must look stupid, was I staring at her? You're holding out a leather strap to me and for a second I thought you were holding a hand out for me to shake, the reins dumbass, take the reins from her hand. Feeling like I've just woken up from a fever dream, I now see that you're holding the reins of two horses as well as two rifles slung onto one shoulder and your backpack on the other. 

“Your horse” you say to me lifting your brows with a weak smile, your arm still outstretched with the reins in your clutch. 

I take the worn reins, feeling how the leathers have been softened by the warmth of your hand. 

You slide one of the rifles off your should as well, handing it over to me 

“You a decent shot?” my voice came out in a low whisper, still thick with sleep. 

You let out a small huff as you readjusted your backpack and rifle before climbing onto your horse. Without saying a word you gave him a look that said hurry the fuck up and lets go. 

///

Tommy was right, you were shy.

You didn't say much, not even offering me your name. 

You seemed capable, you took the lead on the trail, you checked out the weapons, you saddled the horses, god you even packed extra food incase I forgot to bring some. 

You were prepared. 

Oh god I hope she doesn’t think I'm some useless trigger happy lug head.

You had taken the lead on everything. Normally I'm the one to prepare, I'm the stoic one, I'm the one taking the lead. God, is Jackson making me soft. 

I felt my every move was under a microscope. Like you were watching and waiting for me to fuck up. 

Every so often I could get a glimpse of your face, your soft expression, your eyes that dart back to find me, eventually you slowed your pace and walked your horse next to mine. Neither of us make an attempt at small talk. Good, can you think of anything worse than “how the weather?”, “who did you have to kill to be here?”, “ouch you lost your parents, yeah so did 80% of the people who live in jackson” bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.

Periodically I would see you looking at me but you never met my gaze, always turning away as if I didn't see. You made me feel… sweaty, nervous like I want you to like me.

“I want you to like me” seriously grow up Miller what are you fourteen. You've working together not in an arranged marriage. You didn't even tell me your name until we were several hours into the shift and communication became necessary. 

“Im Joel by the way”  you responded with a look that said yeah I know dumb ass.

For years I've been the quiet one, I've been the muscle, I've been the protector, I've been the lead. Now here you stand in front of me with your arms folded over your chest, cocking a brow looking extremely unamused at me. I towered over you, somehow I've never felt smaller. I felt like a side salad to a steak. I was the supporting act after years of being the main attraction. 

Patrol was uneventful, I tried to stay out of your way and when you told me to jump I asked how high. You held my gaze for a bit longer now and an odd feeling stirred in my stomach when you did. I started to notice small details on you, cuts, scares, bruises, broken finger nails, small patches on your jumper where you had mended it time and time again refusing to leave it behind. The way you adjust your backpack periodically cracking your back as you did so. I liked the way you smelt when you walked close to me or when the wind changed direction. Jasmine.

Small things. Insignificant thing that told me a lot about you.

I wonder what you noticed about me. 

///

I wanted to look at you more. Almost like I want to press pause and study you uninterrupted. That's not creepy joel.

You still held a stony expression when we approached the gates, while I felt relieved to get out of your presence I also liked the way I felt around you. 

You held your hand out to me and for the second time today i find myself zoning out and getting lost in your eyes, your expression doesn't change and oh shit she's talking again 

“Say that again” 

“The horse, Joel” 

God my name never sounded so good coming from someone's mouth.

I look down and see your hand stretched out towards me. 

“Unless you wanna hold my hand” a small smile pulls at the corner of your lips 

Oh god she smiled at me, that's so cute.

I drop the leather strap into your hand, a lazy half smile sits on my face because you smiled at me. She's starting to walk away, say something back, think of something. Anything. 

“Do you need help getting back or do you think you've got it under control?” you ask, turning over your shoulder slightly as you start towards the stables. 

“Im good” my voice cracked slightly from the lack of talking. I could be embarrassed but I'm not, the flutter of your lashes as you looked up at him, the hushed toe of your voice, the plumpness of your cheeks, I don't care how I sounded. 

As I stood watching your walk away I thought about Tommys words again.  “If she treats you like shit she really likes you” 

God, I've never wanted to be treated like shit so bad.

///

“How was it?” Tommy had asked me as he honed in on the bowl of stew, he held it close to his chest as if someone would swipe it from him if he didnt. 

“It was fine” yeah fine in the way that she doesn't even need me there and she gives me a weird feeling in my stomach. 

Tommy raised his eyes from his meal, he rested the bowl on the table with one hand cupping the warm porcelain and the other reaching out for his beer. “Really? Just fine” I've known my brother long enough to know when he's leading me. “Nothing interesting happen that you wanna tell me about?” what the fuck is he getting at?

“Yeah Tommy we had so much fun, we sang songs and picked flowers and braided each other's hair” I spat out “what are you getting at? Nothing happened” Tommys expression didn’t change at my words, the lopsided grin still smeared on his face. 

“It's just that you haven't wiped that smirk off your face since you walked in” 

“Fuck off, tommy” 

///

The next morning came and I didn’t feel as tired as I normally do, my back didn't hurt as bad as I expected it to and the ache in my head reduced to a light fog. My mind felt quiet, almost like all the shouts and screams were happening a mile down the block and not right in front of me. 

I chalk it up to patrol, having something that occupied my mind, something to keep me sharp and it definitely didn't have anything to do with you. 

Get up. Get dressed. Get to it. 

Once I made my coffee and slung the door open as quietly as I could , I returned to my spot on the porch. Once again I closed my eyes and hung my head. Absorbing the noise around me. I opened my eyes for a moment, noting the sharp bit of cold on my big toe, that holes gotten bigger. I close my eyes again. 

Music, the crunch of stone under foot, the shower running from inside the house, the neighbour walking around the second floor next door. I wonder what I'll do today, probably preparing for winter like everyone else. I should go get some food, make a nice dinner for Ellie, and I should try talking to her, make sure she's okay.

“Morning Miller” like I'm being woken from a dream, I open my eyes.

“You busy today?” how the fuck do you know where live? 

///

When you told me you were taking me out of the walls I expected it to be more or less the same as yesterday, like we were filling in a shift for someone else. Instead you walked me to the opposite end of Jackson’s gates and through some poorly secured sheet metal in the fence. I should probably report this to Tommy, this isn't a disaster waiting to happen or anything.

You handed me a pistol and not just any pistol, my pistol. the one I carried halfway across the country with and the one I reached for more times then I can count. The same one I killed with. The one that Tommy had taken from me when I arrived. Was he setting it aside for me? Did he know about your “unofficial patrol” runs? The trails look almost overgrown, like it doesn't get walked often, branches cover parts of the track and the leaves hang low from the trees overhead. Fire

I can feel the sun beaming down on my back leaving a sweat patch right between my shoulder blades and beads of sweat form along my hairline. You walk alongside me, a long sleeve shirt hangs loosely from your form, your hair pushed back behind your ears, although some pieces fall into your face. 

Today felt lighter, the cold air filled my lungs, the sun poured down on me, my pack felt lighter, the weight of the pistol on my hip felt right and the throbbing in my knees felt like no more than a tickle.   

I like the way you smell, even though you said you stank. I liked the way you looked at me, it didn't matter if you were smiling or not.  

“Why did you invite me out today?” I turned to look at you to find your eyes already on me. “Given how talkative you were yesterday” I continued “and does Tommy know we’re out here?”

I hear a laugh escape your lips and when I look over at you you're smiling at me again. The way the sunlight lights up your eyes and makes you look like you're glowing is overwhelming. You look back down at the trail. You adjust your backpack and crack your back, the same way you did yesterday. 

“You seem good, Joel” I fix my eyes back onto the track ahead of me stepping over rocks and fallen branches. “I'm sorry if I came off rude” you continue “In a world where women like me are beaten down, stolen away, used and left for dead…” you stop, eyes firmly fixed on the toe of your boot. You seem so small when the next words come out. 

“I want people to see me as a threat before they see me as anything else" 

///

“Will you walk me home?” you asked me as we approached the gates of Jackson. The possibility of spending more time with you made my heart thump in my chest, even with the ache in my back returning along with the throbbing feeling in my knee, I would walk you anywhere you wanted. Although if I get the chance another time I will make fun of you for asking. The mean little girl wants someone to walk her home. So cute. 

Our unofficial patrol ended when we found an old wood shed about a mile and a half from home. One infected. Taken out by you. We checked a trap out in the woods behind the structure that turned out to be empty. As you waltzed into the wood shed I scanned over the shelves that lined it, books scattered, pens and notepads, a pile of blankets thrown in the corner along with some clothing items, a large black drum sat next to the door, a hose running from the lid of the barrel to the roof. There was an old couch pushed up in the back corner of the shed as well. In the other shelves sat large containers, ‘STOCK’ scrawled across the front of a few of them.

Looking around the structure I soon realised that we didn't ‘find' the place, you were just coming back to it. “What the fuck is this pace?” I asked as you rummaged around in one of the boxes marked “STOCK” 

“Some of the kids call it the love shack” You looked over at me, amusement in your voice “but it's kind of like a supply station” you pull something out of the container and jam it into your bag before i can make out what it is “and yes Tommy knows all about this place” 

What's that tone? Mischief playing in your voice. Is she only saying that so I don’t tell Tommy? She's not that stupid. 

I followed you up your porch stairs taking in the exterior of your home. It's small, the front steps bow when you step on them from years or use. The paint on the weatherboards peeling and faded with time. The elements havent been kind to a lot of the homes in Jackson and I have spent a lot of time looking around thinking of all the things I would do if I had the resources. It didn't stop at my house either. Soon I was imagining renovating half the town.

Your front wire door looked like it was hanging on by a thread and one of the gutters and pipes that ran down the side of your house was all but rusted out. 

I stopped when I reached the top step, you shoved your front door open with your shoulder and knee, a practised move that I'm sure you've done hundreds of times before, knowing just the right angle to hit it at. 

Once the door swung open you shrugged off your bag and toed off your boots.

“Wait here a sec, okay?” and you disappeared into the house “I’ve got something for you” I hear you shout from somewhere inside.

I approached the front door but did not step over the threshold. Looking into your home felt like reading someone's diary or eavesdropping on a secret or walking in on someone changing. 

Books lay spread out on the ground next to the fireplace and on what he assumes is your dining table. Blankets draped over the couch and spilt out of a basket near the front door.

She told me to wait.

A day bed sits in the corner of your lounge room. A basket of yarn spilling out onto the floor along with a few half finished projects along with a tin full of sewing needles, pins, measuring tapes, scissors and a few different colours of thread. 

she didn't tell me not to come in but she also didn't invite me in.

The whole room was lit up in a soft orange glow from the afternoon sunlight pouring in from your kitchen window. It looked warm. It looked like a home. 

Why do I feel so dirty for looking. It's just her living room.

The image of you sitting here on this sofa popped into my head, a blanket wrapped up around your shoulders. Half asleep with a book in your hand while it rained.

I'm not doing anything wrong, I'm just looking.

Or layed out by the fire. The dancing flames lighting up your eyes and warming your soft skin making you glow in the otherwise dark house. 

“What are you smiling about?” you asked looking up at where I stood, a hand propped up on the door jam.

“Just lookin” my palms feel sweaty. You were just checking out her house, not her ass. Calm down Miller. 

I look down at the item you extend to me. It's a bottle, the label worn and water damaged. The seal on the top has been broken and the lid has dents and scratches, it looks like it's been pasted through a few other hands before it found its way into yours. Take the bottle you moron.

“Thank you, its real nice of ya” 

The bottle was filled with an amber liquid and as soon as I opened the lid and inhaled I could tell that this bottle of, what I can only assume is homebrewed bourbon didn't come cheap and didn't come around often.

Now, I didn't know it at the time but this would be the first of many gifts that you would bestow upon Ellie and I. 

The next thing you did for me was mend my clothes, including my favourite pair of socks that I was wearing that first day we met. 

After that I would be coming over and borrowing tools because my dumb ass brother never returned mine and then you would make a joke about needing a screw or asking how big my hammer was. Then you would teach Ellie to sew ‘a skill everyone should know’ you told her.

I would come over in the next few days and clean out the gutters before the storms started to roll in. I would rip out the rotting floorboards from your front porch and replace rusty nails. You would bring me homemade meals or fresh bread to which I would invite you in and you would never decline. 

I loved how you seemed to fit into the house that was meant to be mine, but you felt like a part of you was here even after you left. You would kick off your boots leaving them alongside mine and you would throw your jacket on the hook next to mine or throw it on the back of the couch. 

I didn't know it now but soon I would be teaching you chords on the guitar and swapping books with you. 

I would happily follow you out on more unofficial patrols, sometimes we would be gone for a few days at a time trying to find supplies in dilapidated barns and old properties that had fallen victim to time and the elements. Tommy did know about these little excursions, although he didn't know about the makeshift hole in the fence. I'm sure you got a slap on the wrist for that one.   

I would be coming over to your house to drag Ellie home when she was avoiding chores or trying to dodge school.

I just didn't know yet. 

“You need me to help you get home?” a bashful smile laced your face. I couldn't tell if you were just flushed from the warmth of your home or if you were blushing. 

You pushed past me in the doorway raising an arm and pointing a finger past my shoulder down the street. 

I let my eyes follow the outstretched arm. Seven houses. Seven houses and across the street was all that separated us. Fuck

“See ya neighbour” 

As I walked home I could feel the goofy smile that hung from my lips. 

I slowed my pace, observing the bottle as I went. Chatter in the streets picked up, people started to return from assignment to rejoin their families, others turning straight to the bison in favour of a drink. I listened to the distant sound of children laughing and playing in the streets. The sounds of a neighbourhood. 

///

That was the first night I dreamt about you, it was the first night you pulled me out of a bad dream. It was the first night that I went to sleep with your face at the front of my mind. When I woke up in the middle of the night you were the first thing I thought of. When I closed my eyes and pulled my cock out of my boxers I saw you and when I started jerking myself off I saw you. Fuck i feel dirty. I couldn't stop myself even if I tried. I saw your smile and the strands of hair that stuck to your face. I pictured you laid out by your fireplace, bathed in an orange glow with my hand around your throat as you moaned my name.  

Just once, get it out of your system. She’s attractive, I'm only human. It's fine. 

I let myself imagine all the things I would do to you. Because in the morning i wouldn't think about it again

Just once

I let myself imagine your tight pussy swallowing me up. I could almost feel your hot breath on my neck. I let myself imagine you on all fours and I let myself imagine you riding me on the couch in your living room.

Just once

I let myself imagine how your pussy would taste as I ate you out and I let myself imagine how you could sound as you came on my face, on my cock, on my fingers.

“Just once” I whispered to myself before I spilled onto my hand and sheets.

[madaqueue]

4.20

pairing: suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: roommate geto. language, smut. smoking weed, high sex, pet names (angel, baby), praise, light nipple sucking, kissing, sex. 18+, MDNI

word count: 2.4k

a/n: blah blah drugs are bad whatever anyways geto would absolutely smoke irl

You swing open the door to your apartment with a huff, throwing your bag down in the entryway and kicking your shoes across the hall.

“Bad day?” asks the familiar airy voice from across the room.

A sarcastic chuckle leaves your lips as you take your hair out of the tight bun you wear for work, shaking your head as it falls. “You don’t even know,” you respond, eyes traveling across the room to see the source of the question, your roommate Suguru, on the couch in your shared living room.

He sits with his legs spread, only adorned with grey sweatpants, his bare chest softly illuminated by the evening sun streaming in through the nearby window. Reaching his hand out, he grabs the bong perched on the coffee table, holding it up to you.

“Then you better get your ass over here, because I’ve been waiting all day for you to get home,” he teases.

He’s always known just what you need after a shitty day, a way to drown out the agitation your coworkers seem to never-endingly bring upon you. Running into your room, you quickly change into pajamas, desperate to remove the stuffy business casual outfit that always feels out of place on your body.

Now much more comfortable you return to the living room, slouching down next to him on the couch. “You didn’t have to wait,” you hum, reaching a hand out to grab the lighter, desperate for the mental respite of melting into that familiar high.

“‘Course I did,” he purrs, “no one else around to play with my hair the way you do, angel.”

Trying to ignore the butterflies building in your chest from the nickname, you flick the lighter on in your hand as you steady yourself above the glass piece. Igniting the carefully pre-packed bud, courtesy of Geto, the embers spread as you inhale the smoke. It burns slightly as it fills your lungs, holding for a moment before you exhale, the familiar sweet taste lingering in your mouth before passing it to Suguru.

Before you know it, the constant static of noise in your mind quiets.

The sounds of whatever cartoon he picked out echoes through your apartment as he situates himself between your legs on the couch, his back leaning against your chest as your palms comb through his dark hair.

This little routine between the two of you had become your favorite part of the week, an inexplicable relaxation washing over you as you sit in silence and forget your worries for a moment.

Your fingers absentmindedly braid and unbraid his locks, the sensation sending shivers through his body. For both of you this was practically a form of self-care, a way to treat yourselves for the stress you endure.

Shifting his weight slightly, he reaches an arm out to the table to grab the bong, holding it towards you so you can take another hit. Leaning forward, you rest your chin on his shoulder as he lights the bowl for you, smoke filling it as you inhale, the glass cool against the heat of your lips.

He repeats the action for himself, and something about the way his eyes barely close as he breathes in, his eyelashes fluttering ever so slightly, makes him look so soft.

Everything in your body feels light, warm. Lazily tracing your eyes over his body, he looks just as warm; something in you wants to touch him, feel him.

Sliding your arms below his, you place your hands on his thighs, taking in the fuzzy texture below your palms as you continue watching him. He exhales, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at you.

“What’re you doin’ there?” he breathes, curiosity lacing his voice.

The way his skin seems to glow draws you in, placing your lips against his neck as you continue tracing your fingertips along his legs.

“Soft,” you murmur into him.

An airy chuckle escapes his lips as he leans into your touch. His hands find their way to the bare skin of your legs beneath your shorts, his thumbs beginning to draw small circles along your inner thighs.

Suddenly, it feels like you’re vibrating, your entire body pulsing with each beat of your heart. Scanning for the source of the new sensation, you notice the heat between your legs, cunt throbbing in pace. Suguru’s hands move slightly higher, only intensifying the desire building within you.

Of course you had thought about fucking him, it would be insane if you hadn’t, especially given the way he walked around in only a towel after showering, hair dripping as he strolled through the kitchen, or how he’d come up behind you and press his chest against your back when you struggled to reach something from one of the taller shelves, or when he would stroke your hair gently after a long day as you rested your head in his lap.

But at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t - you couldn’t risk jeopardizing your living situation (or, more importantly, your friendship).

Maybe it was the weed clouding your thoughts, or maybe it was the months of shoving down your feelings for him, but right now, you can’t bring yourself to care: you need him.

Your hands move up his legs to the waistband of his sweatpants as you paw at the fabric, mouth never separating from the crook of his neck as you begin to suck lightly on it.

He takes in a soft gasp at the sensation. “Careful, angel,” he hums. He wouldn’t admit it, but your touch is absolutely addicting, the softness of your fingertips tingling every inch of his body. Deep down, he knows that if you start, he may not be able to stop.

Yet, rather than heeding his warning, his words ignite something in you, something that needs more. You slide one hand under his waistband, but as soon as you nearly make contact with his cock through his boxers, he moves.

Before you can even realize what’s happening, he’s turned around so he’s on top of you, one knee between your legs as the other cages you into the couch. Loose strands of hair fall over his face as his dark eyes meet your glazed-over ones.

“S-Sugu?” you stutter as you try to focus your gaze on him.

Everything feels cloudy, far away. The only sensation tethering you to reality you is him, his leg beginning to press against your clothed cunt through the flowy shorts covering your lower half. A soft moan vibrates inside you as your eyes slam shut, your hips bucking up, aching for any source of friction.

His chest rises and falls, struggling to take in enough air as he looks down at you, your eyes closed as you rut against him, the sight making his breath hitch.

“God, you look so perfect like this,” he mutters, your motions never slowing.

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, trying to stifle the sounds of pleasure threatening to leave your throat.

Suguru smiles above you, laughing to himself. “That feel good, baby?”

Eyes still closed, you nod, humming a soft, “Mhm,” in confirmation as you struggle to form words, the mixture of your high and your hedonism intensifying as you find a pace pathetically rubbing against his thigh.

Your hands reach up to him, grabbing onto his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself as you approach your release. Right as you feel the tightness in your stomach, he pulls his leg away from you, a desperate whine leaving your lips.

“Not yet, angel,” he purrs, “it’ll feel better if you cum on my cock. You want that?”

Your teary eyes flutter open and meet his, pupils blown wide in lust as you weakly nod.

He leans over you, lips nearly touching your ear. “I know you’ve got some words floating around in that pretty little head of yours,” he whispers, “use them.”

Using all of your energy, you manage to choke out a broken “Yes.”

“Good girl,” he whispers against your skin, his words making your cunt throb. His fingers trace down your body until he’s thumbing the waistband of your shorts. “Why don’t you take these off, pretty,” he softly commands.

He leans back, allowing you to remove your clothes and toss them across the room as he sits up, back resting against the couch and legs spread apart. He pats the thigh you had just been grinding against, and you crawl to your place in his lap.

Straddling his waist, his eyes lazily trace over your body, now only covered in your tight tank top and soaked-through panties. One of his hands moves to your hip as the other pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock that nearly hits his abdomen from how hard he is.

Your eyes are drawn downward as your mouth opens in awe of his size, reaching down and gently stroking up his length. He sucks in a sharp breath as your thumb traces over his slit, dragging the precum that had been pooling over his flushed tip.

So focused on the way his cock twitches in your palm you barely register his fingers ghosting between your legs, pushing your panties to the side as he glides up your slick folds.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he murmurs as you continue absentmindedly stroking him.

Without realizing it, your hips begin circling against his hand, his palm roughly rubbing against your clit as you whine. “More, Sugu, please,” you beg, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

He chuckles lightly at your soft desperation. “Okay, angel,” he hums, mind hazy with his own desire for you.

He gently grasps your wrist to move your hand away from his base and replaces it with his own, using the hand on your hip to guide you above him, aligning his tip with your entrance.

Slowly sinking down on him, your eyes flutter shut as waves of ecstasy course through your body. Your head falls forward as you lean against his shoulder, the sensation of being stretched by him making your vision go white.

When he finally bottoms out in you, your pussy clenches around him involuntarily, eliciting a soft “fuck,” from the man as your eyes threaten to roll back.

“Y’take me so well, angel,” he purrs, “such a good girl f’me,” his words slurring in lust.

Eyes still closed as you lean against him, you begin to rock your hips forward, your motions slow and imprecise. As you find your rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you as you circle your waist, his hands trace up under your shirt, his touch like electricity sending shockwaves through your body.

His palms reach your breasts, his fingertips setting your nerves on fire as he kneads the soft mounds. Pleasure builds in your core as you lean your head back through a moan, mouth hanging open as you arch towards him. Leaning forward he places wet kisses down your neck before lifting your shirt above his wrists, sticking his tongue out and circling your hardened nipple before placing it in his mouth.

“F-fuck, Suguru,” you whine as your hands move to his hair. As he feels your fingertips brushing along his scalp, tingles run down his back and he shivers against your body.

Pulling away from your chest he moves his palm behind your head, tilting you down to look at him. Your eyes are unfocused, a lopsided grin across your cheeks as your eyes roam his face. He looks equally dazed, a lazy smirk decorating his features.

“Wanted you so bad,” he hums, “been thinkin’ about this for so long.” He looks up at you with a fuzzy adoration in his tired eyes, the smile on your face spreading as you blush at his words.

Everything about the moment is unhurried, calm, as you lean forward and kiss him. Your lips meet messily, mouths parting as your tongues glide together.

Your hips continue grinding against him mindlessly and he starts to thrust up in pace with your motions, his cock hitting deeper and deeper into you.

You moan into him, the only sound you can make as your thoughts cloud with bliss. Tension tugs at your core as you feel yourself approaching the edge of your release.

Your shared apartment is filled with the sounds of skin against skin, the lewd wet sounds of his cock bullying into you, your whimpers and moans echoing off the walls. Both of you are otherwise silent, lost in the moment, unable to formulate coherent thoughts other than the ecstasy you share.

“M’gonna cum, angel,” he finally whispers into you. “Finish with me?”

All you can muster is a nod, mouth loosely agape, waiting for his tongue to slot back against yours.

As soon as he does, his lips warm and moist, he thrusts harder into you, purely following a carnal need living deep within the core of his body, his muscles acting on their own.

Pushing his pelvis higher, his tip prods against the sweet spot inside you that has you completely losing yourself, the tightness inside you snapping as you come undone.

Your pussy flutters around his length, pushing him to his own release as he pumps thick, hot ropes of cum that coat your insides.

His hips slow as he imprecisely fucks himself into you, prolonging your high.

When you finally return to reality, he pulls his lips away from yours, a trail of saliva momentarily connecting you as your eyes flutter open to meet his.

“Y’look so pretty,” he coos, taking in your sweet fucked-out face: pupils blown wide, eyes glassed over, lips parted as drool pools in the corners of your lazy smile.

Resting his hand along your jaw, he brings his thumb over to wipe the spot from your mouth, rubbing it over your lower lip. Without thinking you stick your tongue out, taking his thumb into the warmth of your mouth as you suck it, eyes nearly rolling back inadvertently as his cock twitches inside you from the sight.

Moving his hand away, he instead pulls you into another messy kiss, feeling the heat of your skin against his.

Finally sliding yourself off him, you both giggle in bliss as you clean yourselves up, returning every once in a while to take another rip of the bong.

You fall asleep cuddled next to him on the couch, playing with his hair, more relaxed than you’ve ever felt before.

[florencemtrash]

Hummingbird: Chapter One

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

You leaned back against the desk, ignoring the leftover smattering of paint as it seeped into your overalls, and checked the time. Miles’s face was stuck to the pages of his sketchbook, blue and red ink staining his cheek as he snored softly. One hand loosely gripped an open highlighter, the other dangled over the edge of his desk, half-eaten sandwich abandoned on the floor.

Twenty minutes. He’d been asleep for twenty minutes, and if you let him sleep any longer, he’d be late for fifth period.

You rapped your knuckles on his pencil case, the ringing tin jolting the teenager awake. Brown eyes flashed around the room, fists shooting out in an amateur boxing move as he tried to figure out why his spidey sense hadn’t warned him of any danger.

But there was no danger here. Nope, just Miss Y/l/n staring at him curiously from under raised brows.

“Wakey wakey, Miles,” You wore your usual pair of yellow Converse and paint-splattered overalls, the pockets hanging wide and loose after years of carrying around paint bottles, brushes, and books. The school board liked to complain about your “improper dress,” but at the end of the day you were one of the school’s only art teachers - and the most highly approved by students.

“Oh heyyyyy Miss Y/l/n.” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping to the floor and snatching up his forgotten lunch. This was the fourth time you’d caught him sleeping in your classroom. Any more and you might actually have to start giving him detention. He tossed pens, snacks, and his sketchbook haphazardly into his bag, but not before you caught sight of a familiar blond-haired, blue-eyed girl smiling in front of a backdrop rioting with yellow, pinks, and blues more vibrant than a fireworks display. “GWEN!” the comic-style calligraphy called out next to her glowing face. Miles always seemed to be drawing her these days.

“You’ve still got five minutes left, calm down.” Miles straightened up to face you, clutching his lunchbox to his chest and smiling nervously. You folded your arms over your chest and stared pointedly at the gangly boy in front of you. With how much he’d grown over the last few months you wondered if one of his ancestors had been a garden weed. 

“You want to talk about what’s been going on, Miles?” 

“What do you-what do you mean?”

“You’ve been falling asleep in my class, this is the fourth time I’ve caught you napping here during lunch, and now I hear from Mr. Maloney that you’ve been skipping English.”

“He-he told you that?” He tugged at the collar of his shirt, hoping for a breeze to drift in through the window and save him from his nerves. He thought he’d been good about juggling the responsibilities of being a high-schooler and everyone’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. If his parents noticed anything different about him they chalked it up to teenage angst and grief over Uncle Aaron’s death. But someone had caught him slipping up.

You shrugged, “The teacher’s lounge exists, and people like to talk.”

“Oh…” he mumbled, shoulders dropping.

The dull ringing of the school bell cut through the silence, followed shortly by the rumblings of conversation as students filled the hallway, moving with the current like fish in a river.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Listen, Miles, you’re not in trouble, ok?” Miles sighed in relief. “If you need to eat your lunch or just take a break in my classroom that’s fine with me. I just want to make sure you’re not trying to flunk out like last year.” 

He shook his head adamantly. He couldn’t - wouldn’t - drop out of Brooklyn Visions now. He had a plan for the future: go to Princeton, figure out multiversal traveling, and reunite with Gwen and Peter and the rest of the Spider-gang. Seemed simple enough… and totally doable…

“I promise that’s not the case, Miss Y/l/n.” The sincerity behind his words satisfied you.

“Alright Miles, but I’m keeping an eye on you,” You said dramatically, squinting your eyes and pointing at his chest. Miles snorted, mouth breaking open into a lopsided grin, “Now get out of here or Mrs. Cape will think I’ve convinced you to go to art school again.” 

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I just…”

“Yes, yes, you want to go study physics at Princeton,” you waved your hand in the air, tracing some invisible pattern in the sunlight before grabbing a wet wipe from your desk and tossing it to Miles, “Quantum mechanics, the multiverse, and all that stuff.” 

It wasn’t the first time he’d told you about his future plans, but the words that left his mouth had a tendency of flying over your head. The kid was too smart for his own good.

You paused and took a moment to look at Miles, to really look at him as he scrubbed away at the ink on his cheek, “Those Princeton schmucks would be lucky to have you.”

“Thanks Miss Y/l/n.” Again he gave you that crooked, boyish smile.

“Alright now out, out!” You shooed him towards the door, watching as he saluted you and flashed you one last smile before joining the crowd of students and disappearing around the corner.

You slipped back into your classroom, the smell of charcoal, dried paint, and pencil shavings settling into your lungs - sweet and comforting. There wasn’t an inch of space that wasn’t covered in some manner of artwork: sketches, paintings, collages… colorful graffiti that you should probably scrub out before parent-teacher conferences. Most of the pieces were the works of current students, but sometimes people like to leave things behind on purpose, trusting that you would find a place for them somewhere.

You wiped down the desks, rubbed the worst paint splotches from your overalls, and then collapsed into your chair, swiveling around and munching on the sandwich you’d picked up at the Prospect St. bodega. You had thirty minutes of peace and quiet before sixth period. 

That’s more than enough time. You thought to yourself. Maybe I’ll get some grading done and-

A head of curly black hair popped into the room, face wet and screaming with tears. You straightened in your chair as the boy’s lips thinned, then turned down. His shoulders began to tremble.

“He…He,” Hiccup, “He broke up with me, Miss Y/l/n.” 

“Oh geez,” you sighed deeply, setting your sandwich down and ushering the boy in. 

There were things you missed about being a teenager… the highs and lows of a first love were not on that list.

>>>

Saturday nights were sacred - the only time you reserved entirely for yourself. No grading, no reviewing and updating lesson plans, no agonizing over student reviews. You’d used to go out with old college friends for drinks on the weekend, but most of them had moved out of the city or gotten married and were doing married people things.

Is this what getting older is like? You wondered as you snuggled further into your couch, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders to keep out the chill. It wasn’t too terrible… albeit a little lonely.

The latest in a slew of cooking shows played out on the tv, throwing flashes of light onto the book-burdened coffee table and providing the background noise necessary for you to finally get your thoughts out of your sketchbook. But the moment you went to put the pen nib down, your mind went blank, and not in a good way. Every line looked wrong, the eyes of the figure looking bloated and misshapen. Time creeped by slowly, dragging you along for a ride as smooth as sandpaper.

 You knew the cause of your frustration, but knowing never made it better. It had been two months since Richard had moved out, two months and one day since you’d found out he was cheating on you with some grad student at NYU. 

Pendejo.

You’d hated his interior decorating, but now the blank spaces on the wall screamed his name. 

You tossed your sketchbook and pencil onto the ground and went to make a cup of tea. Maybe you were better off calling it a night and crawling into bed. Mid-year reviews had just ended and you had a long list of emails to reply to in the morning. One thing you hadn’t been expecting when you’d accepted this job was the number of parents who’d be on your ass about their kids getting a B in art - in art. 

The tea kettle was just about to open its mouth and start singing when a crash sounded from the living, followed by a sheepish “Whoops.” The muffled word punctuated Paul Hollywood’s critique of someone’s lemon tart - too stodgy.

Your blood ran cold as the stranger continued to mutter. 

“There goes another one. Wow there’s a lot of stuff on the floor.” Another one of your precious potted plants hit the ground with a dull crack. 

You grabbed the wooden bat from where it leaned against the wall, swinging it easily behind your head. At least there was one good thing Richard had left you with. 

You creeped out into the hallway, backing up towards the front door with your eyes trained on the shadowy figure making a mess of your living room. The figure fluctuated in and out of existence as he stumbled about the room, tripping over the piles of books and art supplies littering the ground. His body splintered outwards like cobwebs and twisted with flashes of bright light, haunting and inhuman. 

The creak of the floorboards gave you away. All at once the figure stopped and turned around to look at you. Where its face should have been was a single, flickering white spot, pulsing with curiosity as it tilted its head to the side. 

Mierda. 

You bolted towards the door… but he was already there.

“Why hello Mrs. O’Hara. Nice to finally meet you.” A thousand voices said at once.

You screamed and swung. 

The first swing missed, leaving a crater in the drywall. The second swing hit true, but the bat merely sunk into the black void of his body, some force ripping it out of your hands as you staggered backward. “Oh! Well that wasn’t very nice.” The creature laughed. 

Spindly tendrils of dark matter grabbed hold of you and you let out one final scream before the Spot swallowed you whole.

There was a momentary blindness and the sensation of falling before you were unceremoniously spit out onto a hard granite floor. You winced at the rough cut of broken glass beneath your heels, with nothing to protect you but a thin pair of socks. You looked upward and gasped. 

Where there had once been a towering glass ceiling dozens of stories high lay a gaping hole, the metal beams blown backwards into the night air like a blooming flower. It took you a moment to recognize the building, after all you’d seen it nonstop on the news for weeks last year - Alchemax.

What the hell?

Police tape criss-crossed over the debris like yellow spider webs, the scene broken up by black holes that morphed and twisted around you, pulsing with the same energy as the stranger in your apartment.

I must be dreaming. You thought. But in the back of your mind you remembered bits and pieces of what Miles told you he’d been studying over the summer - wormholes and spacetime and portals to different universes. 

You picked up a piece of metal off the floor, experimentally tossing it into one of the spots. It disappeared under the surface like pottery in slip before popping back into existence above you. You only narrowly lunged out of the way before it crashed into the ground and stuck there like a sword in a battlefield.

“Beautiful, isn’t it Mrs. O’Hara?” the Spot stepped out of a hole in the fabric of spacetime beside you. 

You jumped back, choking the scream in your throat. “That’s not-that’s not my name.” You managed to say. “Maybe you’ve kidnapped the wrong person?” A stupid hope.

“Oh? What is it then?” You said nothing, daring to lean down and pick up a jagged piece of roof panel. It might not do much, but it made you feel safer with its weight in your hands. “Well you don’t need to tell me. I just wanted to ask you a question.” He blipped out of existence, taking with him the darkness that pooled out of his skin.

“Who is Spider-Man?” the voices said as the Spot reappeared right beside you.

“You’ve got to stop doing that! Pendejo.” 

“What?”

“Just talk to me like a normal person.” You pointed the roof panel at him, keeping him at a safe distance.

“Who. Is. Spider-Man?” He stepped closer, the tip of your makeshift weapon sinking into his skin like he wasn’t even there. 

The question made you pause. That was what he wanted to know? He had kidnapped you just to ask about Spider-Man? 

“Um, I mean, he’s kind of the local superhero. Stops thieves, saves kittens stuck in trees, makes questionable brand deals at times-”

“NO! I know who Spider-Man is.” 

You blinked in confusion, eyes shifting to the side, “Then why did you kidnap me?”

“I want to know Spider-Man’s identity! His real identity.” The edges of his body sparked, shooting outward and striking the walls of the room. Dust and plaster fell to the ground like snow.

“I don’t-how the fuck am I supposed to know who Spider-Man is?!”

“You know him! The other version of you knew him!” 

“What, other me?”

“The alternate universe version of you!” He threw his hands up into the air like a petulant child. The darkness around him grew with every passing minute, crawling around on the floor and up onto the walls like a reptile looking for its next meal. He slid his hands down his face, somehow pulling at the ether he was made of as he muttered under his breath.

“Whatever, I may have miscalculated. You’ll still be important. Don’t you worry. You may not know who Spider-Man is, but Spider-Man sure knows you.”

Next chapter ->

>>>

Author's Note: so... I may have gotten carried away and written the second chapter as well... hope you enjoy!

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