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jarofstyles · 3 months ago

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Haze

Hi bestie babes, here is a best-friends-to-best-friends-with-benefits piece! I am unsure if I'm doing a second part but if I did it'll be later on down the line.

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WC- 8k

warnings- use of marijuana, friends with benefits, biting, daddy kink, soft Dom H hehe

“H? Do you really think I’m pretty?” Y/N’s voice was slightly slurred, a mix of both tired and high as a kite from the joint they’d finished just a bit ago. The cool air flowed in from the window they’d cracked in order for her landlord not to get a call to complain, but she welcomed the chill. She always got a bit hot in her skin when the high hit her. “Don’t lie to me. Give it to me straight.

She loved smoking, sure, but she hated how it made her mind think about things she had purposely been putting off. Like her awful fucking dating life and how stupidly lonely she was.

Harry sat next to her on the sofa, his legs spread in an obnoxious manspread, his fingers messing with the Rubik’s cube. It wasn’t uncommon for them to smoke together- he was her best friend- but she wanted his opinion. The poor man was going to be subject to her insecurity.

Her string of bad dating experiences lately had made it hard to believe it wasn’t a her problem.

"Pretty? Babe, you're beautiful. Come off it." he mumbled, eyes still on the puzzle game. He was in that fluid mindset, neither here nor there. His reassurance felt nice but at the same time, a little vague. Her face contorted in a frown as she looked over at him. He was still baked, so she got it, but still. A little more would be nice.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend. Tell me honestly, H. What is.. what is wrong with me? Because I don’t know how someone can go on so many bad dates and it not be a them problem.” It had been plaguing her the whole time and harshing the high. The words needed to come out. “I’m the common denominator.”

Finally, he put the Rubik's cube down and turned to face her fully, his gaze locked on hers. Sure, he was dazed from the weed, but he wanted to be sincere with her once he had heard how she had actually been a bit torn up from it. As hard as she tried, it wasn’t easy for her to hide her emotions from him. Even high Harry could see past the playful quips she had made lately. It had only been a matter of time before she had asked him about it and in his opinion, it was bullshit. There was nothing wrong with her at all. Y/N was amazing, but it was only natural to become a little insecure when someone had the string of bad luck like she had.

"Y/N, there's absolutely nothing wrong with you. I'm being completely honest with you, I swear. It's not you, it's them.” He winced knowing how cheesy it sounded but it couldn’t really be helped at the moment. “You're a fuckin’ amazing, smart, beautiful, funny, talented, kind person... I could list off all your good qualities cause there’s loads of ‘em, but m’high and can't think straight enough right now t’give you the fancier words like… exuberant? Pretty sure that one’s right ."

Y/N let out a little laugh. She could hear it in the low tone of his voice and how it seemed to take him longer than normal to say things when he was stoned and trying his absolute hardest to get that out, but it was a little cute. Too bad it wasn’t enough to get her out of her wallowing.

“Then I’m doomed.” She groaned, sinking into the couch. Her hands came up to cover her face, a tired sound leaving her as she tried to reset. “Dude, do you know how entirely and overwhelmingly exhausting it is? And don’t you dare call me dramatic.” Her eye peeped up at him before she fell back into a huff. “I know you get sex on tap but for the rest of us normal folks, it’s like a war zone out there.”

Harry snickefed at her little quip as he watched her sink into the couch. Letting out a sigh as he really thought about it though, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "I understand how you feel, trust me. It's not easy for anyone. Although I have to admit, I can't exactly relate to your dating struggles, not really. I just happen to be lucky enough to have a very dedicated fanbase."

He was joking but… not really. He always teased her about this. The women who tended to hang out around the garage or try to get near him after hours to ride him in the cars that he just fixed… It wasn't hard for him to get what he wanted. Being good looking, tattooed, solid and single, it got you a lot of places, and a lot of ass. If only she could relate.

“Yeah, yeah. Slut.” She grumbled lightheartedly, kicking her foot against his thigh. It wasn’t fair it was as toned as it was. “You’re a mechanic and you’ve got all the rich soccer moms throwing themselves at you for a romp in the backseat while their husbands are at work. That’s nice and all, but the dating pool for us commoners is abysmal at best.”

Shooting him a glare, she grabbed the bag of goldfish shaped crackers and popped some into her mouth. “At this point I’d be fine with a friends-with-benefits sorta thing- but god damn it, I just want someone to love me at some point.” There was a moment of silence before she cleared her throat. They didn’t really discuss their sex lives and stuff often so she took his silence as one of not knowing what to say- which was fair. She was sorta dumping this all on him. In the grand scheme of things it wasn’t that insane. Everyone went through shit like this. “Sorry. I don’t mean to actually be dramatic this time.”

Harry shook his head at her remark, giving her a reassuring smile that had his eyes crinkling at the corners. He locked his gaze on her face as he listened to her speak, his expression softening with understanding instead of the smug joking he was giving off before. "Hey, s’alright babe. You're not being dramatic. It's how you feel, and I understand that. Everyone deserves love, and I have no doubt you'll find it."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. When he spoke again, his voice low and sincere as he knocked his hand against her thigh to get her to look at him.

"Y/N... can I ask you somethin’? And don’t make it weird.” He warned, making her unsure what the hell he could be asking.

Brushing the hair out of her eyes, she turned to look back at him with a questioning look on her face. “Sure. What’s up?”

Harry seemed to hesitate for a moment, unsure whether he should ask or not. It would most definitely change their dynamic if she was offended or freaked out by it, but regardless he felt like it it was something he knew he had to ask. He shifted on the couch, turning to face her fully, taking a deep breath and letting his gaze lock on hers before speaking.

"Y’know how you were saying how you're open to a friends with benefits thing? And how you're tired of being alone?"

“Yeah…. I literally said it like, two second ago.” She replied, voice slow and drawn out. She knew she was foggy, but damn. Of course she didn’t want to draw conclusions but she had to wonder why he would be bringing that up again. Her heart beat a little harder as she narrowed her eyes at him. “Why?”

His gaze remained steady on hers, his expression unreadable. He took a moment before speaking again, his voice low and slightly hoarse. Of course he wanted to be careful with his words, in the off chance this could offend her but he knew that he’d kick himself for not asking if he avoided it. He took a deep breath before asking the question.

"I was wondering... if you'd be interested in having an arrangement like that... with me."

Blinking rapidly, she had to be sure she wasn’t just hearing things. Usually she wasn’t the type to have hallucinations when high, but she didn’t know if he would ever actually suggest that. “Uh.. can you repeat that?”

Harry smiled softly as he saw her surprise. He knew it was a big ask, but he was committed to the idea now.

Leaning forward, his voice was smooth and deliberate as he repeated his question, this time with more confidence considering she hadn’t completely looked disgusted at the idea.

"I was asking if you'd be interested in having a friend's with benefits arrangement with me. No strings attached, just a... way to fulfill certain needs without the commitment. What would you say to something like that?"

“Yeah, that’s what I thought you said.” The nod was casual, as if that hadn’t just completely freaked her out. Not in a bad way! But in a…. What-the-fuck-my-best-friend-just-asked-me to-casually-hook-up-on-the-regular, sort of way.

“Uh… I’m not saying no, but I have to ask why you’d suggest that? I didn’t think you were attracted to me in the slightest.” It had completely come out of left field. The intent behind complaining wasn’t for him to offer but to get genuine advice from him considering he never seemed to struggle in the dating department.

"Who the hell said I wasn't attracted to you? I’ve always thought you were stunning.” It wasn’t supposed to come off defensively but he had to wonder in the moment if maybe it did. Harry had never once thought of her as anything but mind blowingly gorgeous.

��Okay, but you have to say that. You’re my best friend, like I said before. I just….” Hesitance grew on her face, looking over his own for any sign of joking. If he was, her ego really couldn’t handle another blow. “I really don’t want to be a pity fuck. And I also don’t want to like… no offense to you, I don’t want to sleep with someone who isn’t exclusive with me? Not like in the dating sense but like, I’d ask you not to sleep with anyone else for safety and I don’t know how you’d feel about that.” Maybe she was rambling but thoughts were running rampant in her already overcrowded brain. Asking him not to fuck anyone else felt like an overstep for some reason.

As she spoke, Harry nodded along, listening intently. He understood her hesitation and appreciated the honesty; it was one of the things he had always loved about her- But he certainly didn't want her to feel like a “pity-fuck” either. That was the furthest thing she could be. He could respect her wanting a certain degree of exclusivity, especially for safety. He knew he was a bit of a whore and he wasn’t ashamed of it, but he had full ability and sometimes the wish to be monogamous- more than he expressed. Granted, if it were anyone else he’d probably feel a little suffocated in an ask like that but… It didn’t sound so bad when it came to Y/N.

"I get it," he said, nodding in agreement. Reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, his touch warm and gentle, he tried his best to reassure her. "I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't find you attractive, Y/N. It's not about pity, it's about wanting a connection with someone I know and trust. And it’s not like it isn’t a convenience for me, too. No awkward leaving afterward, no like… ‘here I’ll get you a cab’ or saying no to a sleepover. We’ve slept in the same bed loads of times and you know I love a cuddle..”

Sharpening her gaze on him, she tilted her head. “Is this because you wanna do some crazy kinky stuff? Cause I’m open but I dunno how crazy I’ll get.” She was kind of kidding…. But kinda not. There were her own things she wanted to explore, but she didn’t want to be a lab rat.

Harry's eyebrows raised at her question, slightly taken aback. He couldn't help but laugh lightly at her tone, but there was also a hint of genuine interest in his reply.

"You really think I'm into kink, huh? Some sort of freak in the sheets?” Wiggling his brows, he teased her. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t obvious that he was a bit of a frequent fucker, but he didn’t have much shame in that. It wasn’t a kiss and tell sort of situation, but he wasn’t shy about letting her know he’d had a lovely night the day prior when need be. “Well, maybe. But no, that's not the only reason..." He let out a breath, a smirk on his lips. "But I'd loveeee to find out what you'd be open to, if we did this."

“Nope, you first, casanova.” She bounced in her seat, getting closer. Her nosy tendencies took precedence over everything else, it appeared. Getting to know more about him that was was enticing and she couldn’t hold herself back. “What's the crazy stuff you’re into? C’mon, we never talk about this stuff.”

Harry was open about the fact he had a healthy supply of offers and hookups but she had stopped him a few times from giving details. Mostly for her sake, so she didn’t see him as some sort of deviant- even if he was. Now, though, knowing she was potentially someone who could experience said things? Her curiosity was killing the cat. Her cat. Metaphorically speaking.

The man’s lips curled into a small smile as he saw her eager expression. He leaned back on the sofa, his arm stretched out behind her. He was throughly enjoying her nosiness- maybe for the first time- considering it gave him the perfect opportunity to tease her a bit more. "Oh, where do I even start... I have quite a few kinks, darling. But I have a feeling you'd like to hear about a certain one..."

“Okay… so tell me.” She rolled her hand to motion to him to continue. Patience really wasn’t Y/N’s strong suit and it was beginning to show, even if the smoking had initially relaxed her. “Let’s hear it. I want to know what I’d be getting myself into, besides greasy hands and the smell of motor oil.” Though she’d never admit how she’d learned to enjoy it, too.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn't enjoying how intently she was looking at him, how her gaze was fixed on his every move. He leaned forward just a bit, his voice dropping lower as he continued* "Alright, y’wanted to know, you'll get to know like the princess y’are. But keep in mind, I've got a few of these, not just one." The taunting made her give him that impatient look he was used to, snickering under his breath as she bore her eyes into him.

“Okay. Lay them on me, tell me!” She huffed, knocking his knee. “You’re edging for no reason. I already know that one because you’re gross. Tell me the real stuff.”

Raising a brow at her eagerness, he leaned back again with his arm still draped behind her. He began speaking again, letting his voice drop a bit. "Alright, just a little tiny taste then… See if you can handle it. I've got a thing for power dynamics, darling. Particularly, I like to be in control."

“Mm… I could have guessed that. You’ve got the whole smolder thing, and you do the…” Y/N put her hand behind his neck before pulling it off. “Then you do the neck holding thing when we go out. You like to control where people go. Boss me around. So I had a clue. Give me one I wouldn’t expect.”

The perceptive observations hadn’t been something he expected, but it did amuse him. He reached up to brush a strand of her hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin.

"You know me too well, little dove." He muttered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. This was a conversation he was enjoying. Not one he anticipated tonight, no, but one that had him on the edge of his metaphorical seat. His real seat was leaned against the back of the couch. "Okay then... how about this? I also enjoy a bit of exhibitionism. Kinky enough for you?"

“Oh?” She sat with it for a moment. “Actually… that makes sense too. You’re understated in public but you still get a lot of attention. Behind the scenes you’re an attention whore and stuff, which I know first hand but… yeah.” She huffed. “Damn. Can’t believe I didn’t guess that sorta stuff.” Another question popped into her mind. “Wait… what have you done with that? Are you talking like. Dressing rooms, cars? Or in front of people for real?”

Harry grinned as she continued to analyze his kinks, watching her as she went through it in her head. Had she thought about it before on her own? That wasn’t something he’d mind, in all honest. He chortled at her question and leaned back, his arm wrapped behind her. He didn't want to reveal too much but he was enjoying this back and forth. Maybe a tad bit more than he should be.

"You've got good instincts, darling. Yes, I enjoy exhibitionism. And yeah, both dressing rooms and cars are on the list. But not just that... I like a bit more of an audience sometimes. But that’s a different conversation. I can explain why I like it, though. Since you seem to be so curious.”

“Do tell.” Yes, maybe she was a little nosy but… it was slightly arousing. Harry was interesting to her before but now, with the idea of her being in those scenarios, she felt an elevated desperation to know.

Harry noticed how her eyes darkened with excitement as she listened to him and it made a feeling of satisfaction twist in his gut. Having an effect on her was something he hadn’t realized he’d enjoy so much, but now that he had a taste he wanted to see more of it. He shifted a bit closer, his voice dropping into a low whisper. "I like the thrill of being caught. The danger of it, y’know? I love that it’s risky, that your adrenaline pump and you’ve got t’be quiet. Or you don’t, and you have people see- when it’s appropriate.” That was something he’d experienced a few times. “I’ve had it happen before. Maybe I could arrange that, if that’s something you’d want. People watching, not touching, just watching me touch you... and I’d touch you plenty, darling."

“I think um, I’d like it” It was hard to talk with how her tongue felt tied. “I’ve not done a lot of it but I think I’d be open to seeing and doing more of it.” Her voice weakened, feeling him close to her. His cologne was warm and slightly spiced, his fingertips brushing her arm. Y/N had never experienced the sort of thing he was describing. The most she had done was fuck in a car. “Y-Yeah. I think that’s something we could um… try.” She cleared her throat, trying not to show how affected she actually was. It was hard not to. “What other kinks? Anything I wouldn’t guess?”

Harry saw right through her attempts to seem unbothered and he grinned, his hand continuing to lightly brush against her shoulder. He was enjoying the effect he had on her, the more the minutes passed by. It was a brand new side of her that he hadn’t been privy too prior, but now that he had a chance to? He was going to indulge.

"Glad you're up for trying it, darling. And as for other kinks..." He paused for a moment, his gaze trailing over her body before he spoke again in a deeper voice.

"I'm also into a bit of rope bondage, but that’s for another day too. The typical things you’d expect in kink too, the rougher stuff sometimes, but I really like working you up until you can’t take it anymore. Making you desperate, y’know?"

“Ropes?” She swallowed the shock. “Oh. Hm…” it made sense given the other things but for some reason she hadn’t expected him to be into actual ropes. “I’d have thought maybe more handcuffs but you do like being difficult, don’t you?”

It was a joke but it slightly intimidated her. Nothing she wouldn’t try, though. She trusted him to do that sort of thing with her, if they got to it.

Harry hummed at her surprise and leaned a little closer, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face towards him. His eyes locked with hers, his tone serious. It was hard to ignore how beautiful she was now that he was allowed to think that way. It was something he’d tried to limit his brain from indulging in before, but knowing he’d have all the rights to be the one to stare and touch her, he felt like a layer had been peeled back.

"Yeah, darling, I like being difficult. And I like being in control. But we'll take it slow, alright?" He saw the hint of intimidation on her face and the small act of rebellion he liked to see in her. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, her skin hot and soft under his touch. “Nothin’ you don’t want t’do. I’ll make sure you're comfortable. Even if you’re a miserable little brat sometimes.”

“I…” her train of thought was stalled by the tender touch. Harry was… he was being a lot more liberal with his touches. Sometimes he was when he was high in general but this itself had her feeling hot under her skin. There was that intention now that this was slightly more than what friends do. “I can’t lie and say I’m not slightly intimidated by the thought of us doing stuff together. You’ve done a lot more than me.” She admitted meekly.

Harry simpered as he heard her confession and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He appreciated her honesty, understanding her intimidation. It would be the same for him in her position, but luckily he was going to use his advantage for good. "I know I've done more than you, but that's not a good nor a bad thing. Everyone is experienced in their own way, darling. And that's the point of us doing this... to explore each other, to learn what the other likes." He ran his hand down her arm, his fingers lightly tracing her skin, sending chills across her body.

His fingers curled around her wrist, lightly pulling her up and leading her to straddle his lap. This wasn’t at all where she had expected this night to go but… she couldn’t complain. With her nerves aside, Harry was by far one of the most attractive people she had ever met. There was no way she could turn away the opportunity to feel the way he touched someone romantically.

“You’re really okay not sleeping with anyone else in order to do stuff with me?”

Harry gazed up at her as she straddled his lap, his hands sliding up her thighs, pulling her closer against him. He looked up at her with a mix of desire and affection, appreciating her concern for his boundaries. "I'm absolutely fine with it," he assured her, his voice a low rumble. "I don't want anyone else." His hand came up, gently cupping her jaw. "I want to make you feel good, Y/N. I want to give you all the pleasure you deserve, and I want to be the only one doing it."

Y/N let out a weak sound as his lips pressed against the corner of her mouth. Having him so close was making her feel lightheaded, placing her hands on his shoulders as he tugged her closer to him, chest to chest.

“What do you want to do tonight?” She mumbled, eyes dropping to his lips back up to his eyes. “We don’t have to do like, everything and stuff but… I dunno.” The weed definitely made her aroused.

Harry chuckled softly, his lips just barely grazing the corner of her mouth, teasing her again. Feeling her body against his, her hands on his shoulders, it sent a wave of heat through his body. He doubted she knew that he’d started getting aroused when she started talking about what he’d be into.

"You're cute when you're bashful, darling. And high." He teased, his lips curving into a smirk as he spoke against her skin. "As for what I want to do... I just want to enjoy this moment. Maybe smoke a bit more, later. But mostly I just want to touch you."

“O-okay. You can touch me however you want.” Giving him that opening was bold, but she also knew she needed to just let him take charge. He said he liked to dom, so he would take care of her. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt soft presses of his lips over her cheek, down to her jaw.

“You smell really good.”

Harry could feel himself holding back the pleased noise. The little compliment was a welcomed one, but he didn’t get them often from her. It was a new part of their dynamic but he couldn’t find himself upset with it. In fact, he was going to do everything he could to get some more out of her. He glanced at her, enjoying the way her eyes closed in response to his touch. Running his nose down the column of her neck, he took a little inhale of her scent. Sugary Sweet. Just like her.

"So do you, darling." He spoke against her skin.

In a test of how she’d react, he let his hands slid under her shirt, his fingers tracing along her bare skin. There was no stiffening, so he continued slowly moving closer to the hem of her bra. His lips continued their path down, leaving behind a trail of tingling sensations and wet marks on her skin.

The shaky exhale was louder than she had wanted, his hot fingertips burning a trail over her skin. He took the permission to heart, tracing the bottom of her bra as his lips moved down her collarbone.

Her breathing hitched as she felt his teeth sink into the skin lightly, a firm sucking making her fingers grip his shoulders tightly and nails dig into him just a bit. “Oh, shit… why does that feel good?”

Harry giggled against her skin as he felt her nails digging into his shoulders, enjoying the fact he was already getting a reaction out of her. He continued to kiss and bite her skin, occasionally sucking on the sensitive parts, marking his territory and drawing out more sounds from her.

"Cause I know what I'm doing, darling." He murmured against her skin before biting her collarbone again, this time a bit rougher.

“Oh my god.” She keened, head falling back as her hand came up to cup the back of his head. Fingers curled in his hair, feeling his mouth mark her up while his hand went under her bra, cupping her in his palms. “Fuck.”

Y/N felt the pulsing between her slick thighs, her sleep shorts riding up as she shuffled closer and pressed his mouth harder against her skin. It had been a while since she’d gotten laid but it was a little embarrassing how quickly he managed to get her to feel completely insane.

The sounds of her keening and breathing and the feeling of her arching into his touch was making his own need for her grow. His lips continued to work her her skin, marking and kissing and doing all the things he wanted because it felt like heaven to have this on tap. He could only imagine how much better their smoking sessions would be, how much more fun sleepovers would be if he got to love her up like this without a second thought.

“H…” she whimpered. Rocking her hips slightly, she rubbed against his bulge she could feel clearly between her thighs. “You’re h-hard already?”

Harry hummed quietly, feeling a thrill as she rubbed against him. His lips curled into a smirk against her skin before he lifted his head up, looking at her with darkened eyes. "Yeah, 'course I am, darling. You have no idea what you do to me, do you?"

Moving his hands back down to her hips, he gripped them tightly to grind himself against her. Give her a taste of just how hard his cock got for her. There was no reason for her to doubt. “You did this, sweet girl. S’all your fault.”

“Oh, shit.” She groaned, giggling at the end as she felt his mouth fall onto her chest. Wet, sloppy kisses were placed on the tender skin as she felt him guide her back and forth, setting a pace for the friction. “I can’t tell if it’s been a long time or if uh… if you’re just really good at this.”

Both. It was absolutely both.

Harry chuckled against her chest, his breath hot against her skin before his smirk widened.

"Mm, I would like to think it's because I'm really good at this," his hands guided her hips, setting a slow, torturous pace. "But maybe also a bit of both. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “9 months.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her response and tilted his head to the side.

"Nine months? Damn, babe." He murmured, his hands going under her shirt, his fingers tracing up her sides, making her shiver. Getting the reactions from her felt almost as good as her rubbing over his cock. "That's a long time."

“Just didn’t find anyone good enough to let in my bed.” She retorted, using her grip on his head to guide him back to her chest. “Take my shirt off.”

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He quickly pulled her shirt off, throwing it over his shoulder, before his hands came back up to her body, slowly tracing up her stomach, his fingers brushing over her skin. The thought had been there quite a few times over what she’d look like bare, but this was a brand new vision for him. One he absolutely adored.

"Beautiful." He murmured, his gaze wandering over her chest as he took in the sight of her bare skin, his breathing growing a bit heavier.

Her voice interrupted his inspection of her body. “Bra, too, please. Have to bite the bullet.” Despite her nerves that maybe he wouldn’t like what he saw, she felt comfortable with him. Harry wouldn’t ever make her feel bad. That much she knew for certain.

Plus… she wanted to feel more of his mouth.

Harry chuckled softly and nodded, his gaze locking with hers for a moment as he ran his fingers over the straps of her bra, pulling them down over her shoulders.

"You're so beautiful, darling. Don't ever feel nervous around me," his reassurance grounded her, his voice gentle but firm.

He reached behind her back, quickly unclasping her bra and pulling it off, tossing it away. Taking a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes lit with desire. “God. You don’t even understand how phenomenal you are, do you? M’a lucky son of a bitch that you’re letting me touch you at all.”

Y/N continued to rub herself against him, feeling flushed at the praise. It was embarrassing that she had a pretty good idea that her sleep shorts were getting soaked, but she was swollen and wet and the motions itself of him between her legs were getting her embarrassing close.

Feeling his mouth kiss over the naked skin, she let out a moan that she hadn’t expected to. He was delicate but demanding, taking what he wanted.

Harry groaned as he felt her rubbing herself harder against him, his hands gripping her hips tightly to guide her movements. He couldn't resist the need building up inside him, the need to make her moan and whimper and squirm beneath him.

"You sound so pretty, darling," The compliment murmured against her skin, his lips traveling down her chest, stopping every so often to leave wet kisses, claiming every inch of skin he could. Selfish, possessive, needy. He wouldn’t deny any three of those allegations should she so choose to label him.

“It’s gonna feel so good when you’re inside of me.” She whispered, almost in awe. He was thick and long and she could feel every inch under her. It was almost intimidating to feel it and know that was going to be inside of her at some point. “But I… we have to wait for that. Wanna do that when we aren’t all… you know.” High. At least the first time they fucked, she wanted to be sober completely. “I think I could get off just like this, though. I feel so good right now.”

Harry nodded, his lips continuing to leave wet kisses on her skin, his hands roaming up her sides as he continued to grind himself against her.

"Impatient, aren't you, darling?" He teased, nipping at her neck before moving his mouth to her ear, whispering in it. "You'll just have to wait for that, though. But...there's always other ways to get us both off, hm?"

“Which way?” She breathed, eager to hear any and all suggestions he had.

Harry held her gaze, his eyes dark and full of desire as he spoke in a low, husky tone.

"Let me show you."

He gently pushed her back until she was laying down, his hands running down her thighs, pushing them apart slowly. Shifting his position, he hovered over her, his body fitting perfectly between her legs. His weight rested on his forearms as he looked down at her, she felt her world right itself from how it had been tipped over.

Y/N hadn’t expected the shift of direction but she liked it. Feeling him on top of her, she felt… delicate. Protected. Even if his gaze was predatory and hot, she knew he was good hands to be in.

She also hadn’t expected his hands to grab her shorts, pulling them off and tossing them to the side- but as soon as her panties were exposed, he settled back between her thighs. It was less of a barrier between them.

Harry hummed in approval as he got a glimpse of her panties, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. "You're so fucking wet, darling. Made a mess of those useless shorts. Panties aren’t much better." He murmured, his eyes roaming over her body before they went back up to her face. "And I fuckin’ love that you're all mine right now."

Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. Grabbing his face, she pulled it back up to her own and kissed him. Taking matters into her own hands, she felt him reciprocate immediately. And god, could the man fucking kiss.

Harry let out a soft curse at her sudden action but didn't hesitate to kiss her back through it all, his lips moving against hers hungrily. He pressed his body closer against hers, trapping her beneath him as his tongue delved into her mouth, greedily tasting and claiming her like he had been teasing the whole time.

“I wish you could fuck me right now.” She whimpered, feeling him rock against her. His cock perfectly pressed against her cunt and their mouths lapping against one another’s, it was heated and desperate. They couldn’t, not right now, but the idea of it had her slick and throbbing. It was unfair how her body was so primed and ready for him but she had to do the right thing. He’d feel so perfect inside of her and she’d be so full and they both knew it. “I wish you were inside me.”

Harry groaned at her words, the sound almost like a growl as he buried his face against her neck, his breathing getting heavier as he heard her whimper. He rocked his hips against her, his own need growing stronger with every second that passed.

"You have no idea how badly I want that, darling. But we can't...not yet." He whispered against her skin, his hands gripping her hips tightly. “I’m plenty patient, though. I’ll wait for you to want it, and then…” the pause was heavy. “Then I’ll give you every fucking thing you’ve ever wanted out of a fuck. Can promise you that.”

“I know. I know.” There was no doubt that he was fully and utterly capable. She swallowed back her desperation, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull them closer. “You just feel so good against me. I never expected this…” she whispered against his mouth. “But I’m so happy you decided to be horny and suggest it.”

Harry laughed, leaning down to press his lips against her neck again, licking at the skin as he continued to move his hips against hers, his body hot and heavy against hers. He lifted his head up slightly, looking down at her with darkened eyes as he took in how she had started to look a little blissed out. Just how he wanted her.

"I didn't expect it either, darling. But... I'm glad I did." He murmured, his fingers caressing her skin as he settled into a slow, steady rhythm. Rubbing back and forth, rocking his clothed cock into the sticky heat of her ruined panties, he knew her scent would be on them and that just sort of did something to him. Her own mark left on him.

Y/N felt the bubbling pleasure in her tummy. Feeling him rutting against her, the softness of his tongue as it brushed against her own, his hand curled around the back of her neck in such a possessive and firm grip, she felt controlled in the best way. Her eyes rolled back as she felt him grind harder against her.

“Fuck, Daddy. That feels so fucking good, feeling you against my cunt.” She purred, keeping herself glued to him. There was a pause of moment but she could feel him twitch against her, the sharp intake of breath as he tried to catch himself. It had been a shot in the dark, but one that hit the bullseye. “You like when I call you that? Does it make you feel good too?”

The reaction was visible. The man liked it more than she could even seem but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to play into it to see just how far it went. “Daddy… daddy…. Dadddy.” She taunted, whispering it against his skin. “You’ll make me cum like this. Just keep grinding into me…. Just like this.”

Harry groaned at her response, his lips moving down to her neck, leaving biting kisses in his path. The honorific had him weak, even more worked up than he had thought he could be in this scenario. Little Y/N was getting bolder by the minute and he fucking adored it. It made him wonder what else he could get out of her.

"You're gonna get it, darling. Jus’ be patient and let me make you feel nice, the way you’ve been wantin’ too." he murmured against her skin, his hips continuing to move against hers, keeping a steady pace. His hand cupped her chin, forcing her to look up at him, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. "Daddy's gonna take such good care of you, Y/N. Don’t ever doubt it."

Harry was hot to the touch, her fingers guiding his face back to kiss her as he ground his cock into her. She could feel how it twitched against her, her legs keeping him close so they could stay glued together. “That feels…” she babbled. “S’good. So good, H. I feel so hot and I’m so fucking wet and I wish there wasn’t anything between us but we gotta be good. So good.” She rambled. It was hard to control what left her mouth. She would call it temporary insanity if he brought it up again outside of their arrangement, but the simple movements were making her lose her goddamn head.

Harry's breathing was getting heavier by the minute, his heart pounding against his chest like they wanted to escape his ribcage as he continued to rock his hips against hers. He felt hot and needy, every fiber of his being screaming to be closer to her, but he held himself back, knowing that they had to at least try to be good. He’d get to sink his cock into that hot cunt another day, make her cum around it and squeeze and milk every drop from his balls into her. That was something he was going to look forward to. But for right now they were testing the waters, and he liked it way more than he thought he would.

"Y’feel so good, darling. So, so fuckin’ good, can barely stand it." He murmured against her lips, letting the praise flow easily off his tongue. It’s what the woman deserved. All these shitty hookups and no one knew how to get to those little itches she couldn’t scratch- but he could read her so easily. Harry knew what she needed. "You're doing so well for me, being so good. Daddy's proud of you."

The last sentence made her whine out loud. Pleasure flowed through her at his praise, wanting more of it. All of it. It had been so long since she had been touched by someone else, and while the last person she had expected to do it was her best friend, she had also never felt this level of desperation.

Harry could feel her body responding to his words, her whimpers and whines making his own desire for her grow even more. He loved knowing that his praise was making her feel good, that she needed to hear his words. He continued to murmur sweet, filthy things in her ear as his body moved against hers, his need for her growing more and more intense with every second.

"That’s my girl, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me, letting me take care of you like this."

He knew it had been a long time for her, felt it in how she kissed. Selfishly he would be glad to be the one she got to take care of her. No one else really deserved it. Maybe he didn’t either, but he cared for her genuinely. He liked her and he wanted the best for her- so that’s what he was going to do.

“M’gonna cum, daddy.” She whispered. “I feel it. You’re getting my clit so perfect each time you move… god, s’so embarrassing to cum dry humping but I forgot how good it feels.” Or maybe it just hadn’t ever felt this good with anyone else. It had been a while, sure, but she hadn’t actually had dry sex with someone since she was sneaking around with her boyfriends back home. Something about it made her know that it had to be a Harry thing, though. That he’s the reason it felt this fucking good and why she was desperate for it.

Harry could feel her words shooting straight to his core, his body growing hotter in response. He could tell that she was close before she had even said so, by the way her body trembled against him, by the way her words got breathier and more desperate. Hearing her say so only made him more eager to get there.

"That's it, sweetheart. Let daddy make you feel good, darling." Harry murmured in her ear, his hands gripping her tighter, his body moving against hers more frantically now as he chased his own release alongside hers. She was going to cum, she was going to cum because of him and fuck if that wasn’t the sweetest reward he could think of- he wasn’t sure what was. "You're doing so perfect for me. Just let go for me. You can do it. I've got you, sweet girl."

Y/N felt it approach quicker than she had wanted. It was no wonder, though. Harry was giving her everything she didn’t know she needed in the simplest way, and he wasn’t even inside of her yet. She felt safe and appreciated as his fingers held her and his lips cooed encouragement to her, the rhythmic back and forth of his cock rutting against her poor, soaked panties, the heat boiling over.

“I’m gonna- m’cumming, m’cumming, I’m cumming Daddy- Harry.” She babbled as her eyes welled up with pleasured tears, nails digging into his skin as she came.

Harry's breathing hitched as he felt her grip on him, her hands digging into his skin and her body trembling against his as she came. “There you go baby, there you fuckin’ go. Yes.” He gasped, feeling himself tip over the edge. His name leaving her lips in a strangled whimper had been the final straw, his own release hitting him like a wave, his body shuddering against hers as he followed her over the edge. Shooting right into his briefs, he felt the hot and sticky load and momentarily mourned the loss of it not being inside of her, but it was quickly passed over as the orgasm washed over him.

"God, darling," the man groaned, his voice low and rough as he buried his face against her neck. Mouthing over the skin as he tried to gather his bearings, he mumbled sweetness into her. "You did so well for me, sweetheart. You're so perfect. So good for me. Sweetest fuckin’ peach."

The loud groan that followed her own had caught her off guard, the sharp thrusts of his hips making her cry out in overstimulation but she did little to stop it, keeping her legs around his hips. “What the fuck was that?” She laughed, head falling back on the sofa with her eyes blurry and wet. It was hard to think.

Harry couldn’t say anything, his own brain fuzzy and his body in overload after that climax. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his forehead resting on her shoulder. His curls brushed her skin, scalp slightly damp as her fingers settled in the mess of hair and brushed through it without a second thought.

"Bloody fuckin’ hell, babe." Harry finally managed to say, his voice a bit shaky. "That was… incredible." He lifted his head up, looking down at her disheveled and flushed form, his eyes roaming over her.

It was just dry sex, but it had been better than some of the full on stuff he’d had. Maybe it was just their connection, their vibe, maybe even being high, but he knew it felt impeccable. This was something he wanted to revisit- and he would, especially when he was all alone with his hand on his cock.

“If it feels good like that, what the hell are we gonna do when we do the real thing?” Y/N blinked up at him, the flush of her orgasm glowing on her skin. She felt her body shivering slightly, her poor panties a complete mess she’d need to change into, but there was no regret so far. It took her by surprise considering she had been anticipating a bit of awkwardness between the both of them but there was no hint of it as they recovered, a light kiss pressed over her cheek as his hazy eyes looked down at her.

Harry let out a half-laugh, his body still feeling heavy and spent after that intense release- one that had been a welcomed surprise. There had been no prior indication that would be happening tonight but for as insane as it was that it happened, he was more than happy that it did. Getting to experience this side of Y/N had been something he liked far more than he could have ever anticipated.

Leaning down, his forearms rested on either side of her head as his eyes locked with hers while he spoke. "I have a feeling that the real thing will be earth-shattering." He said, his voice low and slightly hoarse. "The wait might kill me, though."

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misctf · 3 months ago

Text

What You Wanted

Richard wanted to better himself. At first, as a wide-eyed new freshman, he was looking to make a change. Having always been more nerdy and unathletic, Richard prioritized his studies rather than his physical fitness growing up. But after years of fearing the gym, he took his first step. And the rest was history. He grew lean with muscle and learned the ins and outs of the gym routine. He found a gym buddy and quickly climbed the social hierarchy. Smart, fit, and now entering his junior year- he was living his best life.

“Richard!” Thomas’s nasally voice cut through the air, “Are you even paying attention?” Beady eyes narrowed behind his thick rimmed glasses.

Richard shrugged, “Sorry, I must’ve zoned out.” He was thinking more about his gym session earlier that day instead of paying attention to whatever nerdy movie Thomas picked, “I’m just not feeling it today.”

Richard and Thomas were friends since middle school. Both unapologetically nerdy, each surviving their fair share of bullying. But while Richard’s interests in fitness blossomed, Thomas remained entrenched in all things nerdy.

“You’re never feeling it anymore.” Thomas lamented, “I’m worried about you.” He looked at his friend closely, “Are you becoming like them? One of those stupid, smelly meatheads?” Richard knew Thomas never approved of his new friends- especially since many of them gave off the same vibes as their former bullies.

“Thomas, look.” Richard started, “I just... We’re obviously very different people now.”

“Not true! We both study Biochemistry! We’re both applying to graduate school in a few months!” Thomas interjected.

“Yeah, but Thomas, I’ve changed. I don’t really like superheroes and Battle Monsters and all that stuff anymore.” Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair, “I mean, its fun from time to time, but you’re obsessed with it.”

“Obsessed?”

Richard nodded, “Look, I need to get going. I have an exam.” He grabbed his backpack and started towards the door.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Thomas yelled, “So you think you’re better than me too? Just like all those stupid jocks, right?” Thomas continued, “Fine, if you want to be a stupid, smelly jock so bad, go for it! Don’t come crying to me!”

“Whatever.” Richard said, “See you around.”

_________

Richard worked through his thermodynamics exam with ease. It became such a mindless activity that his thoughts wandered to Thomas. They had been close for years. And Thomas gave him an outlet for some of his more nerdier interests. Sure, he wasn’t as interested in all that nerd stuff like he was back in middle school, but Richard did value the time he spent with Thomas. He frowned. Maybe he was just a bit too harsh. He’d apologize once he got done with his exam. But as he continued to write down the answers to these complex questions, he felt something welling up from within him. Something physical... something...

BUUUUURRRRPPPPP

Richard’s eyes widened and he quickly covered his mouth. He felt his cheeks flush red and looked around the room, noticing a few looks of disgust, as well as a few snickers from some of his classmates.

“Richard?” The professor said, looking up from her book.

“Yo, my bad dude.” Richard’s eyes widened, as did the professor’s, “Whoa, brah! Didn’t mean to say that!” His face reddened even more.

“Richard, please focus on your test.” She said sternly.

He nodded, trying to tune out the snickers from his surrounding classmates, ‘What the fuck was that?’ He thought to himself, trying to regain his composure, ‘Okay... just focus.’

But as he stared at the problems on his exam, he noticed small drops of water appearing on his paper. He raised an eyebrow as more drops appeared on his test, smudging his work.

“What the...?” He whispered, “Sweat?” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, “What the fuck?” He said aloud, again disrupting the class.

“Richard!” The professor slammed her book down.

“Dude, just back off.” Richard snapped back. He heard a few audible gasps from his fellow students and his face flushed red, “Bro, that came out wrong. I don't get why I'm sounding like this, bro.” His face flushed red again and he suddenly stood up and headed towards the door, “I gotta take a breather.” He said. But as he approached the door he could feel the same heaviness in his stomach, “No, no no... buuuuuuuuurrrrrpppppppp.”

He slammed the door behind him, and fled from the classroom.

_________

Richard walked across campus as fast as he could. He needed to get back to his apartment as soon as possible. Or maybe to a doctor. But wherever he went, he just needed to be somewhere private. The young man wiped some sweat from his brow and cringed.

“No way dude, I’m like a waterfall.” He whispered, “Oh fuck, look at my pits.” Dark pit stains rapidly formed beneath his arms and continued to grow larger. Richard stopped in his tracks and raised his arms, taking a deep whiff of his own stench, “Huhuhuh that’s ripe, dude.” He chuckled to himself. It was the judgmental stares of nearby students that broke him out of his train of thought, “I’m sorry!” He whispered, blushing deeply, “I didn’t mean to... burrrrppppppppp.” His face reddened even more.

“Haha nice one bro!” A nearby jock laughed.

“Yeah dude! Been dropping bombs all day.” Richard replied with a grin. He quickly shook his head and ran towards his dorm room, ignoring the jock's attempt for a fist bump.

_________

Richard slammed the door to his dorm room shut and threw his backpack across the room. At this point, he didn’t know what to do. His shirt had soaked through from his sweat and a new manly musk was clinging to his sweaty body.

“Okay, I just gotta go to an urgent care.” Richard whispered.

He walked over to his dresser to change his shirt, and he quickly stripped out of his soaked t-shirt. But when he looked down at his body, something wasn’t right.

“Yo dude, since when did I get abs?” Richard mumbled, “Oh shit, look at my boulders.” He rubbed a hand across his large shoulders, giving them a squeeze and chuckling dumbly, “Huhuhuh why do I need a shirt?” He flexed his bicep and watched as it bulged with strength, “Woah fuck look at that!” He watched as his bicep seemed to get a bit larger too, “Dude... that’s buuuuuuurrppppppp.” Richard chuckled, “Fuckin’ new protein powder. Makin’ my gassy as fuck.”

His plans to visit an Urgent Care were quickly leaving his mind. Instead, he continued to focus on his various poses, and amused himself with each growing muscle. Richard walked over to the couch and fell back onto it, grabbing his phone and posting a new picture of himself on his social media. All the white, he absentmindedly scratched as his massive chest, which was starting to sprout a light dusting of hairs. He grinned as various likes started appearing on his picture, and he felt his cock start to grow. He grabbed his massive cock and started stroking it, moaning with each tug.

“Fuck yeah.” He moaned, “Fuck people would be lucky to ride this dick.” He grinned, “Dick’s dick huhuhuh.” A knock at his door broke his concentration and he groaned with disappointment. His cock remained tented in his pants, but he didn’t care. He opened the door, casually scratching his hairy pit, “Oh fuck, Thomas dude! What’s up?”

Thomas grinned, “Richard?” He asked, “Wow.”

“Impressed broski? And don’t call me Richard. More of a Richy.” Richy grinned, “Come in, bro! Look, I’m like totally sorry about earlier. All that nerd stuff that you like. Didn’t mean to be a dick about it.”

“You don’t have to worry, Richy. You made it quite clear that you’re not a nerd anymore.” Thomas chuckled, “You wanted to be a stupid jock, well now you are.”

Richy raised an eyebrow, “Stupid jock?” Something about that wasn’t right. Stupid jock? The words kept echoing in his head, “Stupid jock?” He repeated again, scratching his head, “That’s not... I...” Richy grabbed his head and looked at his friend. For just a second, the dull, dumb look in Richy’s eye was replaced by a knowing intelligence. A horrific realization evident in them. But it quickly lost its spark and his eyes dulled, “Huhuhuh yeah, I guess I’m pretty stupid. But doesn’t really matter when you’ve got this.” He grabbed his bulge and smirked, “Dude, you see that pic I posted? You think I could make it on OnlyFans?”

Thomas nodded, “Yes, I think you could. But I ought to go.”

“No wait bro!” Richy said, blocking his path to the door, “I mean... I know you always say you hate jocks. But its ��cause you’re into us, right bro?” Thomas’s face reddened, betraying his secret, “So like...” Richy smirked and walked up to Thomas, who’s own khakis were now tented, “You wanna star in my first OnlyFans vid?”

_________

Richy stretched his hands above his head and sniffed his ripe pits. His dick twitched at the smell and he grinned. It’d been a few weeks since he posted his first video to OnlyFans. And yet here he was again, rewatching his first video: “buff jock fucks gay nerd.” Without fail, it always made his dick hard. And even though he posted several more videos since then, he always found himself coming back to this one. But even a masterpiece gets dull and Richy pulled out his phone. He ignored several horrified texts from his parents asking why he dropped out of school, as well as deleting multiple invites to interview for grad programs, whatever those were. Instead he found Thomas’s contact info.

“Hey bro.” He messaged, “Be at my place ASAP.” He took a quick selfie and threw in a few eggplant emojis to get his point across.

Afterwards, he tossed his phone somewhere on his bed. He didn’t need to see Thomas’s response. Sure he was stupid, be he did know one thing. No one, especially not Thomas, could resist this dick. And the knock on his door not even ten minutes later was all the confirmation he needed.

#male tf #male transformation #mental change #personality tf #himbo tf

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

Text

seven minutes in heaven.

a/n: pure self indulgent smut here i really have no other way to describe this lmfao. i wrote this all in about three hours so please excuse any mistakes bc i had to get the idea out while it was still fresh in the mind. don’t get me wrong i love dominant eddie but let’s be real he’s just not, is he? he’s a fumbling little virgin and i love that

18+. smut. alcohol. sex with someone in the room (don’t do this. this is fiction.) eddie is so pathetically down bad for reader and also a virgin! they’re in college rather than hs bc i’m too old to be writing about teenagers here

‎♡‧₊˚

eddie’s insanely nervous when the bottle starts spinning, anticipating the dread of having to get in that tiny closet with well.. literally anyone.

he wasn’t exactly well versed when it came to sexual encounters. he’d barely just kissed a girl for the first time last year and had been successful in avoiding any and all games of this nature. it’s not like he didn’t want to, he just didn’t want to embarrass himself nor disappoint whichever poor soul had to stuff themselves into that closet with him.

it spins and spins until it lands on chrissy and some dude he’d just met tonight. breathing a silent sigh of relief as he now gets a further seven minutes to think up some excuse as to why he couldn’t kiss his match.

his ringed finger circles the top of the glass bottle, clinking against it in some unrecognisable beat. maybe he could run to the bathroom as soon as they came out? at least he’d have to miss another go, be free of the embarrassment a little while longer.

eddie’s eyes glide around the circle, eyeing up the potential matches. there’s robin, who absolutely not interested in him and especially not anyone of his gender. nancy, she’s cute but one hundred percent not his type and he’s sure that the fact both of her exes are sat in the room would mean they could get out of kissing. a few other girls that he’s sure would kiss him but they wouldn’t be thrilled about it. then there’s you. sat with your legs crossed, skirt riding up your supple thighs and a shirt that hung low enough that you shouldn’t have even bothered wearing one.

he only notices that he’s staring when steve makes some lewd comment about the noises coming from the closet. tearing his eyes off of your chest and onto the rowdy man.

oh shit, what if it lands on a guy? at least maybe they could just shuffle off and pretend to make kissy noises, see that’d be easy.

before he’s able to jump up and run off, chrissy and the unnamed guy stumble out of the closet, giggling with their cheeks flushed.

oh god oh god oh god.

‘ya have fun in there?’ steve bellows, clearly intoxicated and obviously way too eager to have his turn. why couldn’t he just be more like him, eddie thinks.

steve spins the bottle again. going round and round and round until it stops, the lipped edge facing you.

please no. please literally anyone other than him.

if he was clueless with the other girls he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what to do with you.

‘oh shiiit,’ steve hisses as he sends the bottle flying again.

it slows down just before him, thinking he’d escaped once again until the glass stops. pointing right at his gormless face. he blinks at the bottle, trying with all his might to send it flying again through some undiscovered telekinetic energy or some shit.

it doesn’t. obviously. because he’s not fucking superman.

‘come on,’ you speak, stood before him with your hand extended. oh fuck. he’s not sure he can even take your hand. it’s far too clammy and he’d expose his super-virgin status.

he groans getting up from the floor, gingerly taking your hand and following you through the corridor to the closet. his heart in his throat the entire time. he thinks he might just throw up. unsure of if it’s from the anticipation or just sheer terror of having to try and kiss you.

with your fucking tiny skirt and your perfect tits pressed against him. there’s no way he won’t pop a fucking boner. oh god, what if-

‘you okay?’ you ask, shuffling into the small space opposite with the tiny flecks of light shining on your smile. he hadn’t even noticed you’d shut the door, too caught up in his own head to realise that this was now and he was going to have to do something before you ran out of there laughing.

‘yeah- yeah,’ nodding frantically as he attempts to collect himself. maybe you didn’t wanna kiss him? you’d make some polite excuse about having a boyfriend or something and then you could stand and make small talk for the excruciatingly long seven minutes.

‘good,’ you mumble before closing the already tiny gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a haste.

eddie’s head is empty. absolutely nothing going on inside. frozen in time as your lips move against his. he should do something. he just doesn’t know what.

‘what? you never kissed a girl before?’ you scoff, pulling away slightly. are you mocking him? or is this flirting? fuck, why don’t they make books for this kinda shit?

‘y-yeah i have..’ he mumbles, arms still limply hung around his sides. if you could see his face right now, he’d be comparable to a ripe beetroot.

‘so kiss me back then?’ you giggle, connecting your lips once again, soft hand coming to caress his warm cheek.

okay, yeah. just.. kiss back.

he does what he thinks is right, eyes fluttering shut as his lips move with yours. this is good, he thinks. it feels right.

your other hand reaches out to grab his wrist, moving his hand to rest on your waist. giggling into his mouth, your breath tasting like alcohol and a hint of mint. it’s sweet, addicting almost as he chases the taste with his mouth.

adrenaline racing through his veins when your hand leaves his wrist and tangles into his hair, fingernails tracing along his sensitive scalp. he has to restrain himself from moaning into your mouth. it’s an entirely new sensation for him, makes his cock twitch in his tight jeans. he can’t stop thinking about how much he wants you to just tug it, pull his head back with your delicate fingers.

your knee slides between his legs, thick thigh nudging the growing bulge in his pants. letting out the most embarrassing noise into your mouth. before he even has time to curse himself for it your tongue slips into his mouth, using the opportunity to push your chest further into his.

deciding now to be brave, his hand shakily meets your shoulder, holding you in that exact position. he could stay here forever, he wouldn’t need anything else in life. ever.

your lips pull back slightly and he whimpers. literally whimpers in response to the sudden lack of attention. feeling your smile grow against his now swollen lips. who the fuck whimpers? if he hadn’t already established his virgin-ness, he definitely had now.

‘is that good, yeah?’ you breathe, the words almost sending him into cardiac arrest. they sound as if they’re dipped in honey coming from your sweet lips.

he nods quickly, unable to form a coherent response without looking like an utter fool. opening his eyes just enough to see you staring up at him through your lashes. if he weren’t leant against the wall, he’s sure he’d collapse into a puddle of goo.

‘what if i do.. this?’ palm sliding down over his neck and heaving chest before stopping at his belt buckle, waiting for a sign to continue.

his adams apple bobs as he swallows and you take it as a compliment and sliding your hand on top of his very obvious boner.

he’s a goner.

grip tightening on your shoulder as his breath stutters. willing himself not to cum in his pants right then and there. he would never ever live that down. not with that meathead harrington who would definitely pull him up on it the second you left.

‘oh yeah?’ you remark, smirking in the darkness at his pathetic stature. slowly moving your fingers as you palm him through his jeans. your hardened nipples brushing against his chest because of fucking course you weren’t wearing a bra.

there’s no way he’s making it out of this cupboard alive.

‘h-holy shit,’ he chokes out, eyelids fluttering as he fights off fainting. his head is fuzzy, sorta like how he felt when he got high and jerked off except so so much better.

‘maybe we could.. continue this later?’ muttering quietly so as to avoid anyone outside hearing.

he’s well aware that you only have at most a minute or so left before someone rips open that door and reveals the pitiful mess he is. the sentence doesn’t register for a few seconds until he realises what you meant.

‘y-yes,’ he finally responds, overly eager, ‘please,’ ashamed at how desperate he sounded. he’s sure that he’d kill someone for just one extra minute in here with you. not entirely sure how he would be able to hold on until later.

you don’t reply with words, mashing your lips together one last time before someone hammers on the door, signalling that his seven minutes in actual heaven were over.

‘get out you horny fucks, i want a turn!’ steve jokes from the other side, making you spring apart before he comes crashing into the room.

you smile at him again, seemingly so innocent when he knows you’re anything but.

the bright light of the hallway makes him blink before you bound off back to whoever’s room you were playing him. leaving him with the worlds most awkward stiffy and absolutely no way to hide it from the prying eyes of the fellow players.

‘god damn munson, are you alright?’ steve laughs at his outwardly flustered appearance. eddie is so fucking grateful that the boy is too invested in getting his turn to pay full attention to the obvious tent in his jeans.

sliding into his spot, discreetly moving one of the cushions to his lap. he doesn’t give a shit about the game, too busy wondering just when later would be.

it goes on and on.

robin and nancy head off to the closet, receiving a few woos from the gaggle of people.

then it lands on argyle and jonathan, the larger man having to drag jonathan into the closet with an excited wiggle of his brows.

steve’s fuming at every turn that isn’t his, throwing his hands into the air when it lands on anyone other than him.

and then the bottle goes spinning again, stopping on you. eddie’s not sure if it’s jealousy that it could land on anybody else or desperate hope that it lands on him again.

it doesn’t, goes flying right past him and ends up stopping right in front of steve who jumps up, absolutely ecstatic that he finally gets to go into that damn closet.

eddie’s eyes meet yours, ducking his head slightly and hoping that the searing envy wasn’t so apparent on his features. you give him a little shrug and that same damning smile before getting off the floor.

‘c’mon then big boy,’ rolling your eyes as steve pulls you into the closet.

eddie’s seething with jealousy and he’s not even sure why. you weren’t his like, this wasn’t an exclusive contract that meant you could only play the game with him. near enough drawing blood as his teeth dig into his bottom lip. it’s the thought of it. of steve and his big hands and his exuding levels of confidence. infuriating him to no end.

‘you good bro?’ jonathan nudges his elbow, completely unaware that he had been glaring at the same stain on the carpet for what must have been minutes.

‘me? yeah.. i’m good,’ standing to grab himself another beer. thank fuck the boner had subsided. at one point he had seriously considered disappearing to the bathroom to relieve himself but a few thoughts of his sixth grade math teacher naked had killed it completely.

he pops the top off with his ring, taking a long hard swig of the beer, counting the seconds until you’d reappear from the hallway. this would be the perfect time to grow some goddamn balls and show you how he felt. he could slide right into the spot next to you, maybe even extend an arm around your shoulder. you know, really hammer it home.

‘it’s been seven minutes,’ he blurts out instead, appearing more as a jealous weirdo than the cool, outgoing guy he so wished to be. stupid. internally cussing himself out.

‘you were in there for eight minutes, dude,’ robin laughs, shoulders shaking at his eagerness. great, now everyone in the room knew he was a possessive, jealous freak.

‘hah.. yeah right,’ shuffling back to his spot with the worst attempt at playing at cool that he’d ever seen. swallowing the gigantic lump in his throat and watching the doorway like a fucking hawk.

‘seven minutes stevie.. that’s it,’ your voice echoes and you finally reappear, pulling at the strap of your shirt, readjusting it to its rightful position on your shoulder.

‘holy shit,’ steve remarks, his stupidly perfect hair all messed up, red cheeks to match. eddie longs to grab his collar and pummel his fist into his face. he doesn’t of course, that’d make him look really normal.

instead he chooses to read the label of the beer bottle rather intently, ignoring the feeling of your eyes boring into him. perhaps later would never arrive and he’d just have to move on with his life.

the party dies down and eventually the game gets abandoned, party goers slinking off home or to the bedrooms or as argyle had, passing out on the couch. now would be the perfect time to scarper off to his dorm, not like anyone would notice he was gone. you certainly wouldn’t. not with steve hanging around your feet like a lost puppy.

when the music cuts out, he knows it’s time to go. later was quite clearly not coming. and neither was he. well, he would. just when he got home.

‘well, i’m going to bed,’ you announce, pushing yourself from the couch, staring directly at him. is that a hint? is this later? god, he doesn’t know.

hesitating just a moment too long as steve interjects first, ‘me too.. you don’t mind if i crash here, do you?’

your eyebrows raise slightly, still staring him down. waiting for a response well, for anything from eddie.

‘i-i’ll take the couch, if that’s okay?’ thinking that maybe your lack of response was also a hint? it’s really not clear and he just wishes that you’d directly tell him what to do.

‘sure.. knock yourself out,’ you shrug, a tinge of disappointment in your voice. so it was a hint. you wanted eddie to volunteer to stay in your room, he gets it now! now that it’s way too late.

‘great! well, i guess we’re roomies,’ steve smirks, gazing over at you. disgustingly smug in the way his hand lingers on the small of your back. that should be him. if only he wasn’t such a bumbling idiot he might’ve been the one leading you up the stairs. fingers sprawled out on your back and a mischievous grin to match.

he takes his spot on the couch, shuffling out of the denim jacket that had clung to him all night. he’s sure he can hear a distant banging, some muffled moans and a squeaky mattress. or maybe it’s his subconscious playing cruel, horrid tricks on him. whatever it is, he hates that it’s got him excited. it’s incredibly disgusting and perverted but he can’t help it. he’d sported a slight chub for most of the night which was definitely not helping right now.

tossing on the uncomfortable couch until his head is buried in the cushion and he can’t hear it anymore. certainly rock solid as his eyes squeeze shut. oh fuck. the bathroom seemed like a perfectly valid idea now, that wasn’t weird right?

just before he can convince himself to get up and go the stairs creak and he can hear a soft padding of feet climbing down. freezing in his spot, hips pressed into the soft cushion so as to not give away his precarious position. it’s just someone getting water, at least he hopes.

‘are you a fuckin’ idiot?’ your voice whispers harshly from the doorway, muttering curses under your breath as you stumble across the room to the couch.

‘w-what?’ he speaks, turning his head but leaving his body flat against the back of the sofa. now he definitely didn’t want you to see that.

‘you were supposed to- fuck, where are you?’ groaning as your toe collides with the coffee table, still blindly feeling your way to the couch.

‘here,’ he calls, holding his arm out for you to find.

using his voice to finally find the stupid couch, fumbling around as your leg slings over his sideways turned thighs, ‘why are you lying like that? move,’ speaking in hushed voices, trying not to wake the gentle giant on the opposite sofa.

your bossiness certainly doesn’t make matters any better, his dick straining against the denim as he reshuffles, lying flat on his back. he’s grateful that you’d straddled his thighs and not his raging boner.

‘you were supposed to say that you were staying with me, you idiot,’ sitting tall atop his legs.

his hands are suspended in the air, hesitant to touch you. or touch the wrong part of you even. eddie’s brain reboots when you shuffle upwards, mouth running dry as the cogs turn ever so slowly to formulate a reply.

‘i- wha? i thought.. you and steve.. uh, in the closet?’ his eyes somewhat adjusting to the darkness, just about making out your figure and your furrowed brows. oh god it’s so hot- you’re so hot when you’re mad. his mind flashing back to that dingy closet and how fucking good your hand felt in his hair.

‘no,’ you grimace, ‘i don’t want to fuck steve, i want to fuck you.. are you stupid?’ coming to place your hands on his chest. sure that you could feel his heart pounding through his shirt. ‘he just touched my tits a little and besides, i hid in the bathroom until he passed out.. you are stupid.’

his mouth opens and subsequently shuts again without any words forming. there weren’t any. yes. yes he was stupid. quite clearly. most people probably would’ve gathered what was going on when you’d fondled his balls and very obviously stated that you wanted to fuck him later. well, eddie wasn’t most people.

‘you do?’ is all that he manages to squeeze out, sounding like a small child. eyes shining bright in the little light leaking through the curtains.

‘oh my god,’ you complain, leaning down to connect your lips, wanting to shut him up if nothing else.

even now, he’s still taken aback but he’s not completely brain dead yet as his hands find your hips. see? didn’t even need your guidance this time.

your hips grind down against his, pyjama shorts riding up as you move. eddie’s positively gutted that he can’t see them in this light, he knows they’re soft, can feel that at least. he’s more confident now, a new air about him that just wasn’t there mere hours ago. he thinks that maybe it’s because there isn’t a room full of his friends listening to your every move outside.

that or the sheer level of arousal coursing his veins.

but his tongue is the one to slip into your mouth, noting that you’d definitely brushed your teeth and he wished he’d done the same. your fingers walk the length of his chest, coming between your bodies to his belt buckle.

this is it. he’s going to lose his virginity. and to you no less. oh fuck.

you pull away, tapping on his chest with your other hand, ‘sit up,’ forefinger hooked into one of his belt loops.

he obliges immediately, shifting to sit back against the arm rest. making sure to hold onto your waist as he does. you feel so soft, his fingers melding into your skin perfectly. the cold metal of his rings leaving tiny indentations as his grip tightens. he’d do anything you asked him to, especially if you were poised above him like this.

your hand goes back to working his belt off, unbuttoning his jeans and working them down his thighs. brushing against his length with your fingers. he’s almost panting, head lolling back instinctively, stifling the ungodly moan that had found itself in the back of his throat.

‘look at me,’ you whisper, still tracing the veiny cock beneath you.

his head shoots up, looking back into your eyes. desperate to please you, abiding by any and all instructions that you barked just incase he fucked this up. he would have to pack his bags and flee the country if he did. not sure that he would be able to live with himself.

‘are you a virgin?’ you ask quietly and he feels his cheeks flush immediately.

was it that obvious? the fact that he’d popped a boner the second you’d kissed him was probably a dead giveaway, actually. you don’t seem to care.. he has no reason to lie. unless this is all one big prank and you’re actually about to climb off of him and start laughing.

it’s totally shameful but actually that’d probably still get him off.

‘yeah..’

you nod, taking your eyes off of his to look down at his cock. there’s a tiny wet patch which had actually most likely been there for hours when he thinks about it.

‘you want to, don’t you? we don’t have to.. could suck you off or something?’

‘n-no no, i want to.. trust me, i want to,’ sounding as desperate as humanly possible. over his dead body would he would fuck this up. now he’s not sure how long he’ll last but he’s sure it won’t be long.

‘okay.. good,’ you smirk, bringing the waistband of his boxers down. his cock springs up to his stomach and his eyes flit shut. was his dick small? is that something you cared about? he didn’t have much to go off here except from porn and even he knew that wasn’t exactly realistic.

he can hear you spit into your hand and he’s back to full attention, watching as it drops into your palm and trying his hardest not to cum right now. with your chin shining and your lips wet, it’s all too much.

and when your tender hand covered in your spit wraps around the base of his cock, he chokes on nothing. fingernails leaving crescent moon shapes in your hips, certain that he’s probably hurting you but unable to let go without busting a nut.

you pump your hand a few times, watching intently as he struggles to stay with it. it’s heaven. no no, it’s better than heaven. better than anything he’d ever experienced in his entire life. and the man had gotten creative with some of his masturbation sessions to say the least.

a snore rips through the room and it’s then that he’s reminded of the other man passed out on the other side of the room, ‘shit.. sh-should we carry on?’ nervously taking his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘just be quiet, he won’t wake up,’ ignoring the drunkard and continuing to pump your hand.

eddie’s unsure if it’s you or if he’s feeling things but he can feel a something wet on his thigh. not brave enough to take his hand down there to find out.

‘you sure you want to?’ leaving your hand at the base of his cock to move yourself upwards.

‘y-yes.. please,’ nodding like a maniac.

that’s all the confirmation you need to shift your shorts out of the way, sitting straighter on your knees and positioning his tip at your sopping entrance.

he’s not prepared one bit for how intense it feels. the sensation sends shockwaves through his entire body, sending his head spinning.

lowering yourself down onto him with a soft sigh, hands now finding his shoulders for leverage. eddie’s about to start levitating. you’re so warm, enveloping him inside just right. the second you move, he’ll probably start crying.

his eyes struggle to stay open, rolling to the back of his head. moaning far too loudly when your hips move forward causing your hand to clamp right over his mouth. as if that wouldn’t make him cum ten times faster.

‘shh,’ you hiss, working your hips at a steady rhythm. soft squeaks leaving your own mouth with every bounce but keeping your eyes steady on him. enjoying the sight of him coming completely undone underneath your body.

your hand leaves his shoulder for a second, manoeuvring his hand onto your chest, ‘touch me,’ mewling when he gets the gist and starts palming your tit. the feel of your hardened nipples underneath his palm only sending him hurtling faster towards his already fast approaching orgasm.

he’s one second away from blurting out that he’s in love with you. which he doesn’t think is far off of the truth to be honest.

you trust him enough to not start babbling and take your hand from his mouth, grabbing onto his shoulder again to quicken your pace. clit catching against the patch of pubes he wishes he had time to tame. it was driving him fucking insane, knowing that he was the reason you were panting and cursing under your breath.

there it is. that familiar sensation of something tightening in his stomach, except a hundred times more intense than anything he’d ever felt before. quickly shaking his head to give you some forewarning though it’s pretty useless.

‘f-fuck, oh fuck,’ lifting his hips from the couch to empty himself into you. eddie could’ve never imagined that this is what you would feel like. pure ecstasy vibrating through his limbs, spurts of white hot pleasure exploding behind his eyelids.

his thighs shaking as he collapses back into the couch, still mumbling a bunch of sorries as he attempts to float back down to planet earth. he’d lasted a measly few minutes and for that, he wanted to curl up and die. if it weren’t for the fact that you were so fucking sexy and so warm and so perfect- he probably would’ve lasted at least a couple minutes more.

eddie’s eyes stay closed as you climb off of him, readjusting your shorts as you settle on his thighs once again, ‘you back in the room yet?’ chuckling quickly, leering down at him.

a strangled laugh falls out of his lips, daring to look at you. ashamed even though he knows it’s not that bad. sure he’d lasted longer than at least one other person out there.

‘sorry.. i swear, gimme like.. like ten minutes..’ doing everything in his power to convince you not to leave. because truthfully if you stayed like this, he probably would be hard again in a matter of minutes.

‘hey.. it’s okay,’ you lean down, chest flat against his, ‘don’t worry ‘bout it,’ head perfectly tilted to gaze up into his eyes. maybe he wouldn’t need ten minutes at all. not with the way you’re looking at him like that, doe eyed and whispering sweet words of encouragement into his ear.

‘wanna.. uh,’ the words stick in his throat, ‘wanna get you off,’ blushing despite the fact his dick had literally just been buried inside of you. it’s ridiculous really.

‘you can.. don’t worry,’ pressing your lips to the stubble beneath his chin.

his cock twitches at the sensation and he truly realises how completely pathetic he was. fully at your mercy but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #stranger things x you #eddie munson fanfic

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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago

Text

Old Man

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.

“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”

“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked.

“Pie.” You said in unison.

“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.

“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.

“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.

“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.

“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.

“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then.

“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.

As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.

“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.

“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five.

There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.

“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.

“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself.

“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.

“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?”

“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark.

“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.

“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.

“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.

“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.

“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.

“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.

“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”

“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.

“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.

“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.”

“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.

“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.

Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.

“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.

Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you.

“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.

“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.

“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.

There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.

“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.

“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.

“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.

“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.

“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.

“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.

“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”

“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age.

“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.

“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.

“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.

“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.”

“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.

“Not funny.” He responded.

“I’m not laughing.” You said back.

“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel.

“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?

“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that.

“Pull over.” Was all you said.

Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.

“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”

“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.

You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”

“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.

“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.

“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.

“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”

You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.

“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.

“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.

“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.

“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.

“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”

You smiled. “I love you more.”

He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”

“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.

#dean Winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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girliism · 4 months ago

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having art and patrick as your boy best friends.

you met them in kindergarten. the three of you sat at the same table with another boy. said other boy was writing bad words on your drawing when art and patrick sprayed glue all over him.

they had to sit out of recess watching the other kids play. you brought them both flowers as a thank you and ever since then the three of you were inseparable.

so inseparable that when third grade came around and patrick saw that the three of you weren’t in the same class he brought his parents up to the school and demanded that you all be in the same class every year. middle and high school were no different.

you loved them but hated the gross tendencies they came with. “you have to sit in between us so we don’t fight over who sits next to you.” art says. but you hate sitting in between them cause it ended up with you getting caught in their burping matches. “you guys are so gross.”

but art and patrick really did care for you. so much so that at 11 when you got your first period and ignored them for a week they made it their duty to learn all about menstruation.

you were at lunch eating with your girl friends when art places a drink in front of you. “it’s a green smoothie full of iron rich vegetables so you can replenish after losesing so much blood. my mom made it.” the blonde smiles at you very proud of himself but your faces heats up in embarrassment. “also you can get pregnant now so like don’t do that.” patrick adds quite loudly and everyone is looking at you and your other friends are snickering at the interaction. you wanted to die.

watching art and patrick go though growth spurts was actually terrifying. and not to mention they ate everything. “can we get five home style burger plates two for us and one for her. with oreo milkshakes. oh and apple pie” patrick orders. you watch as the both of them clear their plates with ease now deciding if you all should go for ice cream.

it was the summer before freshman year and you had spent most of it with your grandparents but you made in back in time for the zweig end of summer party. “guys! did you miss me” you pull them in for a hug before you walk ahead of them into the zweig house. the two of the watch you with confusion. when did you become a girl?

art and patrick never really saw you as “girlish” the way they saw other girls as girlish cause they’ve known you for so long. but something changed when you were at your grandparents house. you changed.

“dude you see that right.” patrick says. him and art watch you in the pool talking to your other friends. “she has boobs.” art groans at his friends perverted observation. “can you like not stare at her chest. that’s weird.” “what, all i’m saying is that she has boobs now guys like boobs. boobs and guys are no good match. horny assholes will try to get with her all year.” “can you stop saying boobs” art whispers “they’ll break her heart and get her pregnant. we have to protect her.” patrick says sternly.

the first two years of high school boys avoided you like the plague.

“do you guys think i’m ugly?” you blurt out one night the three of you laying on your bed watching juno. both of them sputter out a slue of what’s and why would you think that. “it’s just no one’s asked me to the formal. i’m literally the only person i know who doesn’t have a date.”

patrick looks at you before shrugging. “you can come with us duh. me and art will be your date we can make it a group thing.” art nods in agreement. this makes you feel worse. “i don’t want to be your guys pity date. plus your girlfriends hate me.” art sits up turning to you. “it’s not a pity date. formals are supposed to be about having fun with you friends. and our girlfriends don’t hate you.” oh but they totally did.

you end up going to formal with art, patrick and their girlfriends and have a surprisingly good time. the night is ending and patrick’s ditch the two of you so you and art sit on the empty football field just the two of you.

“so where’s your girlfriend?” you ask. “making out with the quarterback under the bleachers.” art sighs out looking up at the sky. you wince. “sorry” art mumbles out a whatever picking at the trimmed grass.

“her loss right.” you bump your shoulder with his. art scoffs “yeah, now at least she’ll have someone to grope her.” “wait wait is big shot tennis man too scared to grope his girlfriend.” art shoves you. “shut up ok, guys get nervous too.” humming you say. “if a guy so much as wanted to kiss me i’d just do it.” eyes looking up.

arts head snaps towards you. “have you never been kissed before?” you shake your head no. “but we’re almost juniors, how have you never been kissed?” “maybe because you and pat intimidate any guy that’s has interest in me. which is really fucking annoying by the way.” you huff. “sorry about that, pat just doesn’t want you to end up on teen mom.”

the two of you sit in silence for a while. “i could kiss you.” art says. you look over to him heart beat picking up. art is a good looking guy obviously, but he was your best friend. “wouldn’t that be weird?” you bite your lip out of nervousness. “doesn’t have to be.”

you get your first kiss that night. on the football field under the night sky. it was nice, art’s lips felt nice. moving slowly against yours his hand tenderly holding your cheek. you both break away from the kiss to breathe. “thanks” you whisper.

you guys never talk about what happened that night. not to patrick and not to each other. the same way you don’t talk about the kiss you and patrick share in his treehouse at his family’s goodbye summer party before junior year.

part two

#girliism #challengers #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #art donaldson x reader #challengers au

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gh0stsp1d3r · 5 months ago

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𝒩ℯ𝓍𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂ℯ

3 sum, MDNI, smut, 18+, p in v, oral (m), I’m really bad at writing threesomes I guess,

yes this is Heavily inspired by challengers. I meant to queue this but I accidentally posted it…

It started with the three of you hanging out at your house, the others had left early. It was late, and the movie playing on your screen got boring.

You all sat on the couch, just talking. You don’t even know how it happened, but you do remember pope and jj tripping over themselves to simply follow you into your room.

—

It flowed smoothly, like you’ve all done this before. Their hands on each of your thighs, tongues on yours, and each others. You didn’t really know whose mouth was who’s anymore.

Your hands were on the back of their heads, and suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

A small smile making it onto your face, both of their eyes were closed as you slowly leaned back against the bed, your arms propped up as you watched the boys unkowingly make out with each other.

You rubbed your thighs together, smirk on your face. It took them a while to notice they were kissing each other and not you, until you finally spoke up.

“Okay.” You spoke. Both their eyes opened at the same time, their lips pursed as they stared at each other, turning to you at the same time.

“Fuck. Am I gay now?” JJ asked, his eyes going wide. You giggled.

“You weren’t before?” You snickered.

“If I was, would I be in your bed?”

“If you weren’t, why do you have a hard on right now?”

He looked down. “Shut up.” He grumbled out, looking back at Pope who raised an eyebrow at him. “Shut up!” He groaned again. Pope and you laughed at him, and then the room fell into silence again, before they both turned to you.

Eager, you pulled both boys by the collars of their shirts, they both yelped but didn’t complain as they fell onto the bed next to you.

Both boys attached their mouths to your neck and skin again.

“How do you want us?” JJ panted against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Do what you guys want.” You told them, turning to both boys with a smile.

“Oh, shit, seriously?” He said, giddy like a kid on Christmas morning. He looked at Pope with a smile, raising an eyebrow.

That’s how you ended up with Pope’s cock in your mouth, gagging and sobbing around his length, and JJ thrusting in and out of your wet pussy. Your hands dug into the sheets, fisting them.

“Doin’ so well for us, y/n.” Pope had told you sweetly.

Your moans around his length made him shudder, letting out a loud moan that was like music to your ears, egging you on.

JJ was the complete opposite, leaving harsh grunts and groans, slapping your ass.

“God, her mouth feel good, Pope? Cause I know this pussy does.” JJ snickered, hand moving to rub at your clit, his other one holding your waist.

“Yeah, man.” Pope nodded at the boy, giving him a small smile before turning his attention back to you.

“You close, baby?” JJ asked, feeling your walls spasm around him, he struggled to hold himself back any longer.

You attempted to nod, and JJ took notice, biting his bottom lip as he took in your face, watching Popes cock leave your mouth, your throat thoroughly bruised and your makeup ruined. You panted.

“Jayj!” You screamed out as you came around his cock, your body spasming, he came in you with a groan, your eyes were shut as Pope came on your face.

You panted, all of you breathing heavily, mixed in each others fluids.

“Dude, she fuckin’ squirted.” JJ told Pope, laughing at the realization.

“No way.” Pope said, shaking his head, but smiling as he went over to Jj. “Holy shit.” He laughed. “Nice job, dude.”

JJ raised his hand and the two high fived, watching your ruined body on the bed, leaning your head back and looking at the ceiling.

Both boys went into the bathroom, stumbling into their boxers, Pope starting a bath for you.

They both stood in there, air thick with tension.

“So, we’re never talking about this ever.” Pope spoke, interrupting the silence.

“Agreed.” JJ sighed.

“Like ever.” Pope spoke again.

It was silent for a little, nothing but the water flowing.

“But next time I wanna get to fuck her.”

JJ tilted his head. “Shit, It was fucking… mind blowing pussy.” He laughed.

“I can hear you!” You shouted from inside the room.

“Sorry!” They both shouted at the same time.

#jj maybank x pope heyward #pope heyward obx #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj obx #jj maybank #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj x reader #jj maybank x you #pope heyward smut #pope heyward prompt #holy queue

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beefboyandbabygirl · 1 year ago

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Pup Code (18+)

(SEQUEL TO GIRL CODE. Y/N IS NOT THE SAME PERSON)

pairing: college!mingyu x college!reader

genre: college au, smut (MDNI), fluff, crack

description: mingyu doesn't have crushes. he likes avril lavigne and sometimes he fucks pretty girls. but you seem to stir something in him that no one else can. without the trusty girl code, mingyu makes his own code to help you fall in love with him.

warnings: kindddaaa bad writing tihi, service top!mingyu, dom!mingyu, sub!reader ish, size kink (reader is mentioned several times to be smaller than mingyu and several key interactions are based on this fact), oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex (dont do it guys...), praise (f. receiving), slight possessiveness?, mingu is soooo in love with y/n, he just wants to make her cum forever :( hes a total dork

quotes from my creative director (@joshibambi): "fuck realistic portrayals of sex with men. im very content with getting exposed to this", "men like this DONT exist",

wordcount: 5.7k

a/n: im back and i think ive regained my ability to write. thank u 2 @ryusha-rose for the amazing name for this fic, it ended up becoming a bigger part of the plot, so thank u sm to them tihihihi

This could not be happening.

Forever boring and bland, his friends had opted out of the party, and Mingyu stayed behind alone. Or not alone. He almost wished he were alone, because almost any company (even none!) was better than sitting across from the two idiots before him.

“Truth or dare, Mingyu!” Josh laughed smugly, and Jeonghan held his hand over his mouth, leaning into him. “Ohhhh, truth or dare!”

Mingyu had been down this road before. There was no winning in this scenario, Josh and Jeonghan always attempting to pry embarrassing information from him.

The party had settled down into a low hum. Most people were going home, either humping against another anonymous body as they stumbled out, or walking alone, jacket slung over their arm. There was no reason to stay, really, and torture himself with this circle of hell. Except, of course, for you.

“I don’t wanna do the chicken dance again, so I’m gonna go with truth,” Mingyu pursed his lips, determined to not act a fool in front of you.

He’d always been vaguely aware of you, but tonight had been his first time really sitting down with you. Contrary to your two best friends, you were cool and charming, and you didn’t seem like you wanted to embarrass him. This was already gaining you Mingyu-points, but he was absolutely taken aback by your humor and your smile and he, giddily, found himself liking you.

Mingyu didn’t usually like people - not like he had always liked Avril Lavigne (there was a poster commemorating that crush in his dorm room) - so this felt big. He was nervous, hands clammy as they slid down his jeans.

“Tell us about your first time,” Joshua asked innocently, mischief given away by how the older man cackled and slapped his arm. You watched in amusement, eyes flickering over to him, lashes coming over them in long, black lengths. He struggled to breathe when you held his eyes, so he sucked in a breath and looked at the floor, blushing. Damn it, he was already making a fool of himself.

“That’s so rude, Josh!” you said and threw a random chip at him. It hit him on the cheek and he groaned, face scrunching up in disgust. “Ask him something nicer.”

“You’re so boring, Y/n.”

Mingyu looked at you gratefully and you returned a warm smile to him.

“Yuck!” Jeonghan quacked from his seat between you and Josh. “You guys get a room! I can’t believe I let this stupid kids’ game take away from my boning.”

“You’re so gross!” you groaned.

“Josh was gonna hook me up with this girl from his class, dude,” Jeonghan continued complaining, forever going on about his ‘sexual conquests’. “Now I’m sitting with you dorks and you won’t even let us bully Mingyu.”

“Mingyu’s nice, you guys are just assholes,” you said, gesturing towards Mingyu with your beer. Mingyu was horrified.

Now was the time. Now was the moment to return the compliment; to say anything that might flatter you and defend you from the crooks that you apparently spent your time with.

Now, this was a bit embarrassing for Mingyu. He had recently been adopted by a female friend group - some might even call him one of the girls, but alas! - so one would think he knew all about girls and how to approach them. The truth was, Mingyu was clueless. Beyond his daydreams of Avril Lavigne, and a few casual flings here and there, he had never actually been put in this situation.

Mingyu thought about his girl-friends, thought about their advice and their critiques, and he knew. He knew it would frankly disappoint them if he came to them with no expertise, nothing learned from the countless girls’ nights. Therefore, he had to take matters into his own hands.

“T-Thanks,” Mingu stuttered, lisping across the word. “Y-You’re also great.”

Fuck, he was an idiot.

You grinned at him and the sight of your beautiful smile, your shining skin and your gently falling hair was almost enough for him to miss how Josh and Jeonghan were lifting themselves off the floor in disgusted groans.

“Alright, time to go. Shoo now, back to your dorms. Peasants.” _____________________________

Mingyu didn’t need his girl-friends.

He repeated this in his head for days, like a spiritual mantra, and maybe, he hoped, maybe he would start believing it. You and him had one mutual class and he counted down the days before he could swoop in and talk to you casually, flirtatiously, and seductively.

With the absence of the very helpful girl code (it had certainly helped his friend, Jihoon, with his crush!) Mingyu discovered and consulted a new code. Mingyu code.

He spent his days diligently writing down his own best advice. Some rules were more helpful than others.

“Mingyu code rule 3: always wash your hands after a shower,” he hummed to himself with a small, satisfied smile, while scrubbing his hands in the steamed up bathroom.

“Mingyu code rule 12: go on bike rides frequently for a better jawline!” he panted, hunched over his bike, and pedalling through the nearby park in the beating sun.

Now, Mingyu was mumbling all of his new-found rules to himself, books pressed into his chest, while he approached you in class. It was the middle of the day, and the class hadn’t started yet, people still filing in from the halls. Thankfully, you were sitting alone on your phone, both Jeonghan and Joshua nowhere to be seen. The universe was working with him.

But he was still sweaty and nervous and breathing unevenly when he finally reached you. Remember the code, he reminded himself, remember to be cool and calm.

“Hey...” he whispered, and then, louder: “Hey.”

You looked up from your phone, smiling brightly when you saw him. For such a huge man, you realized he could look quite small.

“Hey, Mingyu!” you said cheerfully, settling your phone down on the table before you. He shuffled to sit down next to you, jacket rustling against the wood. Your seat was near the back, so the hall felt great and wide, and a little bit like an audience to his fumbling.

Rule 14, he remembered sneakily, always wear a jacket, so girls (Y/n) will marvel at your muscles when you take it off!

Mingyu moved to take off his jacket, eyeing you as he did so, in what he certainly thought was a sultry and sexy look. You blinked back up at him, smiling.

Oh shit.

Something was caught on- on something! Stuck with the jacket halfway down his arm, Mingyu began struggling and writhing in it, warmth spreading across his cheeks. You smiled at him fondly, biting back a chuckle.

“Do you need help?” you asked. “No- No, I got it, uh-”

You moved to help anyway, tugging a corner of the jacket off the design of the chair, and he stared at you widely, because you were suddenly so close to him and so cool and calm and pretty, and your fingers danced along his skin. He breathed out a heavy sigh when it finally slid off his arms, furrowing his brows in embarrassment.

“You’re clumsy, huh?” you teased, settling back in your seat and Mingyu chuckled dryly.

“You don’t know the half of it,” he murmured, and to his delight and surprise, you laughed. You had a loud laugh. It ripped itself from your throat and bounced off the walls of the classroom. He smiled proudly at how your face contorted in joy.

“You’re funny, Gyu,” you said, stilling finally and he swore his heart galloped in his chest at the nickname. You were so pretty and so sweet, and he wanted to hug you so bad. He grinned, then looked around the room.

“Where are Joshua and Jeonghan?”

“God knows,” you snorted. “I think they’re poisoning the water supply of some third world country, but I could be wrong.”

It was Mingyu’s turn to laugh, and how couldn’t he? Because you were so smart and so gorgeous, and he truly didn’t understand how he was smitten by you so fast. There was something humbling about spending all his freetime scrolling through Instagram photos and giggling when you smiled prettily at the camera.

Next step in Mingyu code was a little tip he’d borrowed from the countless renditions and repeats of the “Jihoon story”; a heartfelt confession.

Wait a minute. Was he skipping a few steps? Surely- Oh yeah, he definitely was. He couldn’t help but want to skip to cuddling, but going from step one to seven was maybe a bit of a stretch. Jogging his brain for his ultimate “confession for Y/n” gameplan, Mingyu didn’t even notice the lull in the conversation, while he stared at you with furrowed brows and a pout.

“So, uh,” you began awkwardly, and Mingyu finally snapped out of his daze. Shit, he was being a dork again. “You coming to the party on Friday?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there. Jus’.. Love partying.”

There was no salvaging this.

“Alright,” you giggled, confused, and finally turned your eyes to the board when the professor began speaking.

Friday, he thought, gulping down the shame. Friday I make some serious moves. _____________________________

Mingyu was not making serious moves. In fact, he wasn’t making any moves at all.

He’d never felt more strange, standing on the edge of the dancefloor and bending his knees awkwardly to the rhythm of the music. His limbs were mile long stretches and they swung uselessly around him. He looked almost lost, but, of course, it was only Soonyoung’s house.

“You okay, man?” Wonwoo, his roommate, padded up beside him, eyeing him warily through the lens of his glasses. “Are you on something?”

“No, I’m not on something!” Mingyu huffed, stopping his frankly pathetic dance moves and looking directly at the man before him. “I just… You know that girl Josh and Jeonghan are always hanging out with?”

Wonwoo nodded.

“I kind of.. Really.. Like her.”

“What?!” Wonwoo exclaimed, completely forgoing his drink to look at Mingyu in bewilderment. “You haven’t liked anyone since Avril Lavigne!”

“I know! But this girl’s just really smart and cool and funny,” Mingyu smiled shyly, eyeing you where you sat with Josh and Jeonghan, as well as two girls he didn’t recognize - oh, wait, no, Jeonghan and one of the girls were leaving together. Just you, Josh and the blonde then. Wait, no, now Josh was leaving with the blonde. Just you.

Wonwoo saw how Mingyu’s eyes brightened with opportunity and he smiled beneath the rim of his plastic cup.

“Wait! Wonwoo! You can wingman me!” Mingyu exclaimed suddenly, hoping the older man’s presence might ease the interaction.

“What? No!” Wonwoo grimaced.

“Why not?”

“You don’t deserve my services, Mingyu! Not after what you did to me!”

“We’ve talked about this, the Jihoon-story is a very sweet thing and you should be happy to have been a part of it-”

“I’m talking about the other time. Or the other-other time!”

Mingyu slumped, a pout on his pink lips. Wonwoo softened, but stayed steadfast nonetheless.

“Listen, just go talk to her. I have a girl waiting for me upstairs, I just wanted to see if you were okay,” the older man said softly, patting his shoulder while a drink was clutched in his other hand, liquid dancing against the cup-walls when he wafted his hand.

“I would be more okay if you wing-manned me-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo murmured, walking away towards the stairs. Mingyu sighed and looked over at you. You were chewing your lip, face lit by the screen of your phone.

“Mingyu code rule 17: Confidence is key. Confidence is sexy,” Mingyu reminded himself, squeezing his eyes shut and beginning to walk over to you. “You’re hot, Mingyu. You have big muscles and a pretty face.”

Mingyu could’ve almost convinced himself, but when he opened his eyes, legs mindlessly padding closer to you, you were so pretty and so intoxicating, he faltered completely.

“H-Hi,” he stammered, brows immediately pulling up in disdain at himself. You looked up and smiled immediately, face shining bright. “Hi, Gyu! Come sit down with me!”

He nodded dumbly, and squeezed in beside you. His muscly arms were pressed into himself and leaning on his thighs, and he tried to compose his features into something sexy and sultry, when he turned to look at you. You smiled in a sort of knowing way that had Mingyu dropping his face immediately.

“You enjoying the party?” he rasped, turning to look out at the crowd. You pursed your lips and looked at it with him. “Not sure. It’s kind of boring and Josh and Jeonghan just left.”

“Yeah, I saw,” he sighed, then widened his eyes. Oh God, he thought, what if you thought he was a total creep - a creepster - staring at you from across the room all creepily. “Not that I- I wasn’t- I just saw it, like, casually across the roo-”

“Mingyu, do you want to take me out on a date?”

Huh?

“Huh?”

Mingyu didn’t know if he was hearing that right. The words had come so naturally and so casually from your mouth, and now you were staring at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips, and waiting expectantly for him to answer.

“Do you want to take me out on a date?” you repeated, shrugging your shoulders, as if it were just the weather. Mingyu stared at you with whole, wide eyes, and swallowed hard. Clammy hands gripped his knees.

“Yeah,” he breathed, laughing awkwardly. His mouth was so dry and his heartbeat was almost painful in his chest, although the tensions were eased when smiled sympathetically. “I mean- if you want to-”

“I want to go on a date with you too, Mingyu,” you reassured, smiling even wider when his lips mimicked your own.

“Oh my God, okay, so, I was thinking Olive Garden-” Mingyu giggled, and his pure expression of joy was infectious, genuinely making your heart soar, as this huge, muscly man bounced on the couch cushions. He cut himself off halfway, narrowing his eyes. “Wait, wait, how did you know?”

“How did I know what?” you frowned.

“That I like you?”

Your immediate reaction was to snort. This only confused Mingyu further, so you elected to respond truthfully: “Mingyu, you always look at me so longingly, seriously-”

“That- those were sexy faces!” he pouted.

“No, they were longing and tender. Like pull-apart meat. And then sometimes you do the- the Zoolander face-”

“I’ve never done the Zoolander face in my life!”

“And all your moves are so obvious, Gyu,” you watched how he slumped at those comments, a little, pitiful pout on his lips, all deflated like a puppy. You reached a hand over to caress his arm, warm and hard with muscle under your fingertips. Mingyu immediately leaned into your touch, pout being replaced with a small goofy smile. “It was very endearing, though. You’re very cute.”

“I was going for sexy,” Mingyu said, mood lifted at your compliment, but still a little pouty.

“Then go sexy on our date,” you squeezed his bicep in your hand and he perked up. “Now that you know I like you too.”

Hearing those words, that admission, Mingyu smiled to himself.

Mingyu Code; he truly was genius. _____________________________

“So no Olive Garden?” you quipped, standing outside of a more upscale restaurant - candlelit and warm and Italian. Mingyu shook his head. He’d thought Olive Garden would woo any girl, but after triumphantly boasting to his girl-friends (mothers), that he’d gotten a date with a girl he liked, he’d been nothing but scolded by the restaurant choice (“A girl wants to feel pampered! Olive Garden is for post-6-month-relationships!” Yeri had squawked).

“Not until in six months,” Mingyu said, shrugging when you lifted a brow in question. Cars were bustling past where you were standing on the sidewalk. Grass sprouted from the cracks in the cement and people idled past where the two of you were facing each other, your head craning up to his. “Wanna go inside?” he asked.

Mingyu had become more at ease, following your admission. You liked him too, he tried to remember, whenever the butterflies batting around his curving ribcage became too much. And it was becoming too much now, with how your lips spread in a smile and you nodded at him.

You walked in, hand in hand. The tables were fine, polished wood and there was a slightly-stained, white tablecloth draped over the rounded surface of the table. Sneakily, Mingyu nudged some salt and pepper shakers over the yellow splotches on the fabric, hoping you wouldn’t notice, and that you’d feel pampered. You were busy looking at the menu.

Mingyu asked about everything - not because of Girl Code or Mingyu Code or whatever other bullshit way to woo a woman. No, he asked because he was sincerely and utterly interested in you, what made you you, what habits you got from your childhood, what made you choose your major, how you knew Josh and Jeonghan. You were so beautiful in the light of the restaurant, but more importantly, you were the most infatuating individual Mingyu had ever laid his eyes on. Maybe even more so than Avril Lavigne.

You got to talking about Mingyu Code.

“Well, it was because of my friends. They have Girl Code, right?”

“Yeah, that’s God’s rules,” you hummed, sipping on a soda.

“Mhm, and my friend followed Girl Code and he got with this girl he really liked.”

“Mhm.”

“But I decided to make Mingyu Code. Which is about being sexy and charming.”

“You were none of those things,” you teased, but Mingyu had gained confidence and he leaned back in his seat with a smirk, stretching out his arms, as if gesturing to the restaurant.

“Well, I beg to differ. You’re here now, aren’t you?”

“I suppose I am,” you smiled, admitting defeat. “Although I don’t think you were following Mingyu Code.”

“Yes, I was, I made it. I’m the founder of that shit,” Mingyu grimaced.

“Well, if Mingyu Code is about being sexy, then you definitely accidentally followed some other code.”

“Wha-”

“Puppy code. You’re like a big, clumsy puppy. Yeah,” you nodded to yourself, satisfied with your new name for Mingyu’s terrible, horrible guide to wooing you. “Pup Code.”

“Why does everyone call me that?” Mingyu whined, crossing his arms and pouting. Your plates were empty and streaks of cream sauce sludged up the sides of the porcelain.

“You give off major himbo vibes,” you said.

“I’m smart, though,” Mingyu huffed. You smiled fondly at his bratty expression.

“I know you are.”

Mingyu caught your eye and caught the sincerity in them, and it made his whole body ache and flutter. You liked him too, it was clear and not something Mingyu had to tell himself, it was right there, right behind your retina, twinkling at him.

“Do you wanna..?” Mingyu trailed off, pointing his thumb to the door. You pursed your lips.

“What if I wanna take it slow?” You asked, and it was almost adorable how Mingyu’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently and seriously.

“That’s okay! We can- we can totally do that,” he said decidedly, as if it weren’t a bother at all (because it wasn’t).

“Okay,” you nodded, letting go of your now finished drink. “But if I want you to take me to your room right now and fuck me?”

Mingyu whipped his head to yours, the way a door bursts open. You saw him swallow, throat dry and heavy, and biting his lip.

“That- That would be okay, too,” Mingyu said shakily, blushing furiously. Images flashed his mind of you in less-than-sacred scenarios, and he squeezed his eyes shut to ward them away.

“Okay, then let’s go,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“To my room?” He almost couldn’t believe it.

“Yes.”

“Okay, fuck, let me just pay.”

Mingyu didn’t think he’d ever paid and left a restaurant so fast, and he was enamored with you enough to completely skip the step where he contemplated whether or not the staff secretly hated him. You and him walked hand in hand, as he practically dragged you through the street back to the dorms, his long legs working faster and more efficiently than your own. You half wanted to complain at the brutal pace, but you couldn’t lie. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he knew that too.

Thankfully the restaurant wasn’t too far from the dorms, and Mingyu had frantically texted Wonwoo to “get out or he’d be squirted with semen” (a threat that Wonwoo didn’t need to hear twice!), so after ten minutes and some sore legs on your part, Mingyu and you scrambled into his room.

Mingyu liked the privacy, you realized, because it wasn’t until the door was closed, and you both were sealed away in the Mingyu-zone, that he finally walked up to you, hands finding your waist with a confidence you didn’t think possible for him.

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispered, somewhat out of breath from the climb up the stairs. You smiled at him. “I’d be mad if you didn’t.”

And then he pounced. His plush lips were soft and well-moisturized, and his annoying, perfect nose brushed against yours; in fact his whole stupidly gorgeous face was pressed into yours, as your lips thrummed together, and you were conjoined into one being by the lips.

His hands ran up and down your sides, finally taking hold firmly, only to pull you into his lap when he settled on the edge of his bed. You straddled his lap, as your lips danced, his tongue peeking out to enter your mouth. You moaned gratefully. Involuntarily, your hips rolled into his, and the jolt reverberated all the way up to his lips where he cried out and panted against your mouth.

“You’re so pretty,” he said in between heated kisses.

“So are you,” you said. He pulled away and smiled up at you, and he was truly worthy of the puppy-title, because his grin was so goofy and his eyes twinkled and he was so warm against you, it almost hurt.

Carefully, he pressed a kiss to the valley of your breasts over your t-shirt, looking up at you with wide, brown eyes. “Can I eat you out?”

The way he said it like he was completely and totally enamored with you (he was), like it was in this very moment of sitting on his lip and running your hands up his huge arms, that he was falling in love with you (it was), almost made you bashful. Your smile, usually cheeky and teasing, came small and shy.

“Yeah, I-I wouldn’t mind that at all,” you responded, cursing at yourself for letting your confidence falter. However joy spread on Mingyu’s face like the ever-expanding universe spreads into endless empty space, because for once the tables were turned, and you were right underneath his hands, and he was flustering you.

It had him pushing you onto his bed, head falling into the depths of his pillow, and working at your skirt to shimmy it down your legs. You lifted your hips in help and soon enough that and your shirt was discarded on the floor. Mingyu, with his black tee and his big arms and his sweetest-hottest face on Earth, settled between your legs with a dumb grin.

“I can’t believe-” he cut himself off with a satisfied sigh, staring at your pussy. You were pushing yourself up by your arms, looking at the man-child between your legs just staring at your core as if it were his most prized possession. “I-I can’t believe I get to have you like this. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Mingyu’s face fell (it was almost comical), and his eyes snapped up to yours. “Wait, are you mine? You are mine, right?”

You giggled fondly. “Yeah, I’m yours, Mingyu.”

Mingyu’s grin returned immediately and he nodded happily, eyes turning back to your pussy.

“It’s so pretty,” he sighed, fangs poking out where his smile ended. One finger ran through your folds, wet from the making out and all the heated stares from lovedumb Mingyu. You whined a little at the pressure when his finger reached your clit. He was so close you could feel him panting against it.

“Mingyu, please, stop staring at it, and do something,” you cried and Mingyu pursed his lips and nodded. “Right, yeah, sorry.”

And then he dived in.

His nose pressed into your clit as soon as he pushed his head in, tongue stuck out to lick at your folds. Your hands flew to his hair, a desperate moan leaving you. It was a little embarrassing how loud he was, huffing and puffing at your pussy, but you couldn’t complain when his tongue traced up from your hole to your clit, lips wrapping around it.

“A-Aah, M-Mingyu-” you cried and pushed his head further into your core, while your hips canted off the mattress. The press of his nose was amazing, and his breaths danced across your nerves. “S-Shit, that feels so good.”

Mingyu was totally lost in you though. Your taste on his tongue, your soft thighs underneath his hands where he pushed you apart, your moans, and the desperation in your movements. The fact that you were so catty and witty, but with a few flicks of his tongue, your facade fell and you became a whiny, desperate mess, begging for him. And he loved to give it to you. He loved that you felt good, he loved being the one to make you feel good. Lapping and panting into your pussy, Mingyu started to think he didn’t ever need to leave. You could just feel good forever! The logic was flawless.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you cried and you came on his tongue, cum seeping out of your sopping pussy. Mingyu, strong and tan and shiny Mingyu, didn’t stop though. Too enchanted by your soft moans and your nail in his roots, and your juices on his lips, he kept at it, tongue-fucking you to slurp up the cum.

“M-Mingyu-” you whimpered softly, and his only response was a grunt, and one hand sliding off your thighs to prod at your entrance. “M-Mingyu, I-I already came!” you cried, more insistent.

“You can cum again,” he mumbled gruffly, two fingers pushing into you. The feeling was so intense your voice became strangled and your chest pushed off his bed.

“Just say if you wanna stop, then I’ll stop,” his tone was almost challenging, as he pulled his face away from your dripping pussy and his fingers stilled inside you to give you a chance to answer. You looked down at him, panting, as he waited expectantly. Your ‘stop’ didn’t come.

“That’s what I thought,” Mingyu grinned again, and God, this time it was sexy; not endearing, not awkward, not clumsy. It was so incredibly hot and he dived right back to your pussy, tongue swaddling your folds and fingers beginning to pump in and out.

Your clit grinded against his face, slick smearing all over him, but he didn’t seem to care one bit, your cum on his cheek and two fingers working inside you, curling into your g-spot. “Cum again,” he gasped in between sucking on your clit with pointed lips. “Cum again, I wanna hear it again. You sounded so pretty, please, cum again. On my fingers now.”

And he was rambling for sure, but it was working for you, because for the second time that night, a knot tightened in your belly and the string were pulled tighter and tighter with each lick and suck, and eventually it snapped, and your whole body spasmed and your pussy pulsated around his thick fingers.

This time, he did stop. You closed your eyes and heaved for air, lying completely still in the sheets of his bed and panting for air. Mingyu smiled cheekily, pulling his fingers out of your sensitive pussy and licking them clean. As if it was nothing. As if it was juice from a popsicle, his tongue peaked out and he sucked your essence off of them, groaning at its taste.

“Can you go on again? You taste so good,” he hummed, eyeing your fucked-out state. Your cheeks were flushed and strands of hair stuck to your sweaty face. You shook your head. “No, no, I want your cock now.”

“Anything for you,” Mingyu agreed, shuffling to take his clothes off while you regrouped.

It was not long before he was climbing over your body, so fucking huge and covering your entire form in his own, muscles flexing when he lowered himself onto you. As if by nature, Mingyu, tan and glistening in the bedside lamp, grabbed you by under your knees and pushed them to your chest, pressing them into you.

“Wanna fuck you like this,” he pressed a kiss to one of the knees that was now folded over you. “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Please!” you sobbed, because the position, and his strong hands holding you there, and your own slick covering his face had your pussy dripping onto his bed, and you could practically feel the heavy presence of his dick, even if it wasn’t touching you yet.

Mingyu tilted his head as he looked down at you. You were so easy to admire. It was so easy for him to fall into every little jerk and breath and crevice of your face, and you looked so beautiful underneath him, Mingyu started to think he wanted nothing more for the rest of his life than to make you feel this good.

“Okay,” he whispered, and only then did you notice how he stared at you, because there was something very tender in his voice. Adoration poured directly from his heart and into you.

Before you could get lost in his warm eyes, he moved one hand down to steer his dick into you. You cried out when you felt it pressing against your slit, cried even more when it started pressing into you.

You had suspected Mingyu might be big, but nothing could’ve prepared you for each inch that seemed to endlessly plunge into your heat. Stretching you out like a rubber band, Mingyu finally bottomed out in you, his hard pelvis resting against your mound.

“Shit, Gyu, y-you’re so fucking big,” you gasped, and then opened your eyes to see him smirking proudly. It made you giggle. He hummed giddily, looking down at your stomach.

“You’re just so fucking small,” he said then, pressing one hand to your stomach, and then groaning when he could feel his dick inside you. “Shit.”

At that, Mingyu started pounding into you. His pace was fucking relentlessly, something seemingly awakened in him at the bulging in your stomach. “Shit, shit, shit, my tiny, pretty baby, fuck, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

The praise had you reeling into him, it had you crying out and gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, while he worked up a sweat pistoning in and out of your pussy. You moans were shaken from the impact of his dick in your pussy. “Shit, so fucking tight, can hardly fucking take me.”

“G-Gyu, f-fuck-”

“But you’ll take it, hm? Fuck, I wanna make you cum so much more, jus’ have you in my room, making you cum over n’ over again. Shit.”

You had not pegged Mingyu as a dirty talker, and you weren’t even sure if he was aware of what he was doing. Something about having his dick inside you, warm walls just pulled one dirty slew of words out after another. He’d never fucked a girl like this, never felt compelled to tell her exactly what she was doing to him. Not like with you.

You were so gorgeous to him, the way your chest bounced, and your eyes were screwed shut and how your mouth was opened in continuous, strained moans. It was how your hair bunched up on his pillow, and how your skin felt against his, and how you clenched at every word he spewed, while grinded into you like you were the only other person in the world.

“F-fuck, my pretty fucking baby, you’re mine, right? Say it and I’ll make you cum forever, jus’-” he groaned, as your pussy clenched down on him extra tight. His pace fell and his hands on your knees dug into the skin. “Jus’ say you’re mine, please, Y/n.”

“I-I’m yours, Gyu!” you cried out, his pace speeding up again and another orgasm bubbled in your stomach, and you pussy clenched embarrassingly hard for embarrassingly long. “Only yours, fuck.”

“That’s right. Cum again, let- let me hear it one more time, yeah?”

You came. Again. Clenching down so hard, and face twisting in pleasure, cum spilled out of you and coated his dick, still inside you.

Your third orgasm was a melodious song, and you moaned to it so loudly, you knew people three halls over would be wondering what was going on. But you could care less, letting his presence, his smell, his being above you drag more bursts of pleasure out of your body.

Your breathing calmed down again, your soul traveling down from a sky-high mountain, and you started to feel it all again. Your orgasm had been so blinding, you had lost all of your senses but the blinding white explosion in your stomach, and now sighed heavily, pushing yourself up a little.

To your surprise, Mingyu’s hold on your knees didn’t let up, and it took you a moment to realize that his dick was still extremely hard inside you. He hadn’t cum yet.

“Want you to cum again,” Mingyu smiled sheepishly, adjusting his position to be able to pound into you again. You looked at him incredulously, and he chuckled a little, shrugging. “Just say if you want to stop.”

“Safe word is ‘pup’.”

#mingyu x reader #svt mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #svt mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #svt smut #svt x reader #mingyu fluff #svt fluff #mingyu x you #svt x you

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canthelpit0 · 8 months ago

Text

Enemies (with benefits) PT2

Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader

Word count : 6.2k +

Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly

Warnings: swearing, smut, a lot of plot, use of Y/N, FOMO, partying, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, weed), pet names (sweetheart, pretty boy, pretty girl, ma, cherry), name calling (slut), making out, getting caught, p in v, jealous!Reader, jealous!Chris, dom!Chris, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it), spanking, riding, doggy, degradation(?), creampie, slut shaming

(A/N: I wrote this in like a day. so I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes. this was fun to write and ended up way longer than intended. Enjoy 🤭)

PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL

Now sitting at my vanity I’m touching up the rest of my makeup. I’ve been invited to some party, even though I said I would distance myself from that kind of stuff. But I was invited and my FOMO was bad enough to make me go.

“You done? The Uber is here.” Evelyn asks. Evelyn is my best friend, and she has been since middle school, she was there for my awkward phases and stuck with me. Now we’re in senior year soon to graduate.

“Yeah I’m coming.”

I say standing up a bit too aggressively than intended. I just really would like to stay home for once and just sleep, but I really can’t.

I don’t even want to go to that goddamn party, but the more time passed the more I thought about how much I’d miss out on.

‘What if something happened and I wasn’t there to see it’

I grab my purse and walk out the door, Evelyn following behind me.

I was wearing a tight, black, mini-dress, that wasn’t as short as the average mini-dress. It is about mid-thigh, but it has a ‘sexy slit’ up my left thigh. And my hair simply down

Evelyn was wearing a simple navy blue mini-dress, that, in her words “has the right amount of glitter on it”. Both of us decked up in jewelry.

Evelyn has her hair bleached, almost platinum blonde. She wears a lot of heavy makeup, but she looks gorgeous with it. Her eyes are dark adding a good contrast.

The first time Evelyn dyed her hair was in like 8th grade. To go from her dirty blonde a little lighter. Until eventually doing it so many times, going lighter and lighter until she ended up here, platinum blonde. But it suits her.

We walk out of my house, the Uber already there like she’d said.

And while I’m still thinking about why I even agreed to this, and ‘oh, it won’t be that bad’ , and ‘I do this all the time anyway’ , we arrive.

“Girl” Evelyn nudges me nodding to the window, and when I turn my head we’re here. I open the car door, and as soon as I do I can already hear the faint hum of the music coming from inside. I slide out of the backseat, Evelyn following behind me, after paying and tipping the driver.

We step up to the porch, and people in the front yard were already throwing up and smoking and whatnot. After all, we came fashionably late.

As soon as we Walk in the intense smell of alcohol and weed washes over me.

I started to question if this was actually a good idea. But when I look over at Evelyn the blonde is already looking over the crowd of people. She looks excited, and I can’t help the sigh that I let out.

Nobody seems to hear it anyway, the music is too loud.

“Go have fun,” Evelyn says over the music elbowing my side.

I roll my eyes looking over at her, a small smile crossing my lips as I chuckle. “You too. I’ll see you later.” I answer loudly smiling back at her before she nods eagerly.

Evelyn isn’t a bad friend at all. She’s great. Just at parties, I would much rather not stand next to her while she is flirting with some dude.

I tell her everything. Always. Except for the fact that me and Chris hook up. It’s kind of a more secret thing, especially since Evelyn knows how much we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. The feeling, the things that he makes me feel. So I don’t even try.

I watch her fade into the crowd starting to make my own way into the party.

It was a simple house party some random popular rich kid was throwing. Nothing special.

I make my way to the kitchen, brushing past drunk and sweaty teenagers.

Parties are way more enjoyable when you’re drunk.

So I pore myself some shots to get myself started.

I down another shot, feeling like the two I already took weren’t enough. I put down the shot glass more aggressively than needed, my face contorting in disgust at the liquid burning down my throat.

I look over at the bottle of tequila on the counter next to me. I sigh steadying myself on the counter my arms holding me up. I look down for a moment already feeling the alcohol kick in. The music started to sound louder, ringing in my ears.

I sigh standing up straight again. I can feel the effects starting. My eyes scan the room, looking for any familiar faces, or anyone cute..

With how much I party I handle my shots pretty well.

I furrow my eyebrows walking around the kitchen island to the living room where most people are, crowded in the middle, dancing and whatnot.

I see Evelyn there, and she’s just dancing so I join her.

After a while I excuse myself. I need some fresh air. I’d been offered one too many beers and I was feeling way more drunk than I wanted to be.

I really don’t wanna go home completely drunk.

I push my way through the crowd of teenagers, making my way to the back door. Getting out, the fresh air hits me like a truck. It feels like I can breathe again.

I step down the porch, sitting down at the steps of the back porch leaning against the railing slightly.

The fresh air feels sobering, but the sips from my red solo cup keep me drunk. I think it’s some sort of beer, but honestly, with the amount of different alcohol I’ve had tonight, I can’t even tell the difference.

Suddenly I feel a presence next to me. I look over to see a brunette boy.

Ethan Marlo.

He’s the school's resident stoner. The leader of the other skater boys. He’s been caught smoking on school grounds so many times.

And while I was certainly not innocent either, at least I didn’t go and get caught.

His hair is long and messy brown… -reminds me of Chris’.. no it’s too curly for that...

His eyes are brown but somehow sharp like he was staring into my soul, and judging everything he saw.

I’d talked to him a few times before, nothing worth noting though. But from what interaction I’ve had with him he was nicer than he looks.

He may just have a resting bitch face.

“Hey?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.

I watch him pull the cigarette from his lips blowing the toxic smoke away.

“Hi.”

I watch as he puts the cigarette back between his lips. I raise an eyebrow watching him. Waiting for him to speak. To tell me why he is sitting next to me.

But he doesn’t.

“Do you talk?” I ask slightly annoyed at having my alone time interrupted cause some random kid sat down.

“Yeah.” He mumbles against his cigarette taking another puff.

He pulls the cigarette from his lips and blows away the smoke before looking at me again.

“I’m Ethan.” He smiles slightly.

“I know.”

Almost everybody knows Ethan. The kid’s a troublemaker. Teachers hate him. He’s a problem child and people know him for that. And he’s not exactly ugly or anything either.

“Now sweetheart, this would be the moment when you introduce yourself.” He sounds sarcastic almost like he was fucking with me.

“Y/n” I say simply staring back at him as he gives me a goofy grin.

I’m not popular in school, but people still know me. They know who I am because mainly Chris and I would always argue. And people know Chris.

Girls are all over him. Asides from the obvious fact that he’s a triplet and most people think that’s interesting. Most people also think he’s hot.

But most people at our school are stupid anyway.

“You want one?” He asks nodding down to the cigarette in his hands.

It wasn’t like I’d never smoked before, but I’m not a smoker.

I shrug letting out a small “Why not”

I look back at Ethan, and I feel him cup my face with his hand. My lips parted in shock. he chuckles, He places his cigarette between my lips.

When he takes his hand off of my face I raise an eyebrow at him, taking the cigarette between my pointer and middle finger as I inhale it.

Taking the cigarette from my lips I go to speak again. I breathe out the smoke.

“Dude” I sigh, my tone sounds flatter than intended. but whatever.

I pause for a moment taking another drag. He was always known to carry some weed.

“You got any weed?” I ask handing him the cigarette.

He chuckles pulling out an already rolled blunt and tossing it over to me. “You’re pretty you know that?”

He says looking back at me. I raise my eyebrow picking up the rolled blunt and putting it in my purse. “Oh yeah?”

It sounds more cocky than it did in my head but oh well.

I probably look really cocky right now. With the way, I’m leaning back against the higher step behind me.

But whatever. Honestly, I’m too drunk to care.

I put the cigarette back between my lips breathing in the toxic smoke.

Okay, maybe crossfaded.

Pulling the cigarette from my lips, I hold it between two fingers as I take a sip of my drink in my solo cup.

“Yeah”

He looks at me like he genuinely thinks I’m pretty. And honestly, I like the attention, but I don’t know if I actually like it. It feels weird. But I don’t know if that’s just me being drunk and oblivious or something.

I hand him over the cigarette and he takes it from my fingers, taking a drag of it.

“You’re interesting.”

The words leave my lips before I know. He was. I don’t think he was middle class at all. And he was a stoner and a skater, of course, he is interesting.

“Is that a compliment?” He chuckles watching me as he smokes his cigarette.

I chuckle. I feel like I’m sobering up too much.

“Imma go inside pretty boy.”

And with that I’d gotten up, half stumbling to the door. As soon as I'm inside I brush through crowds of people.

Oh wow, that dude looks like Chris

I stop in my tracks as I narrow my eyes at the couple making out in the corner of the living room.

Hold on that is Chris.

Who the fuck is he kissing.

Poor girl

They shift slightly and even from across the room I can tell that he’s deepening the kiss.

I wait to see if they shift enough for me to see her face.

Chris turns her around, pinning her to the wall by her neck. Her entire face is in view.

Charlotte Baker.

I’ve known Charlotte since kindergarten. Chris had too. But I’ve known Chris longer than she has.

I thought he wasn’t into blondes?

I wouldn’t care who he kisses, we’re not exclusive or anything. But him kissing the very embodiment of what he is not into? The person I hate the most?

Well okay, I don’t really hate Charlotte. I severely dislike her. She’s a bitch. No literally. She’s always so rude. But I don’t know if that’s just me. She seems to have a particular hatred towards me.

They continue making out and honestly, I don’t want to see him stick his tongue down her throat- like he had done to me so many times.

I blink aggressively. I realize that people have been brushing past me and that I’d been staring so I move out of the way.

Leaning against the wall of the living room, right opposite where Chris has her pinned. I’m watching them. I know I am. But I can’t pull my eyes away from them.

It feels like I only have tunnel vision on them. And honestly I don’t know who I feel bad for more.

Chris, for kissing Charlotte, knowing she’s a bitch.

Or Charlotte, knowing she’s making out with a guy whose motto is literally ‘hit and quit’.

I can feel my throat burning as I sip on my red solo cup, which is probably filled with beer.

I sigh, I really need to sober up

I push myself off the wall shaking my head slightly. I go to the kitchen, pushing through the teens in my way. Honestly, I don’t know what time it is, but do I care tho.

I pour the liquid in the red solo cup down the drain, watching it. I lean against the counter over the sink closing my eyes for a second to stay focused.

But all I can really think of is Chris and Charlotte making out just a room away. And the thought disgusts me to the point I wanna throw up, but that could also be the alcohol.

God, I wish I could string together a coherent thought.

I glance over my shoulder. The kitchen is open to the living room and entry but from where I’m standing I can’t see them.

I go to the fridge pulling out a water bottle. The bottle is cold against my skin, and suddenly I’m aware of how I feel like I’m burning up.

With shaky hands, I open the bottle of water taking a sip. Letting the cold water flow down my throat and ease the burn of the alcohol I’d been drinking.

I blind furiously stare at the wall trying to sober up drinking half the bottle.

I sigh my eyes drifting back to the living room. I feel more sober than I did five minutes ago.

I can’t see them, so I walk to the other side of the kitchen trying to get a view of where they were without having to go back to the living room.

They’re not there.

My thoughts immediately go to dirtier places. Shaking my head I furrow my eyebrows, my body tensing up before I realize.

Fuck, ew, I don’t wanna think of that. The fuck.

I take another sip of the water trying really hard to sober up more.

But before I know it, I’m already stumbling up the steps.

So maybe I’m not as sober as I thought, what about it.

I think I’d decided to go upstairs to relax instead of outside because Ethan was still outside. And honestly, I’d left him, so if I came outside again he’d surely ask why I came back right?

I open a random door, leaning against the doorway. Staring into the room my eyes squinted.

Until my eyes fall on Chris… with Charlotte.

Them, making out, Charlotte on top of him while she is fumbling to undo his belt.

Chris’ eyes snap open staring at me. While kissing her. My jaw clenches as I stand frozen not moving to leave like I should’ve.

He breaks the kiss slightly, pushing Charlotte away but not letting go.

“Y/n. Leave”

His gruff voice says and my mouth opens to speak but nothing comes out.

When Charlotte hears my name, and sees he’s looking past her she looks over her shoulder her eyes locking her with mine.

A disgusted look crossed my face. Not that it was intentional, but Jesus was this sight ircking.

Did I look like that when I’m on top of Chris? Ew.

I shake my head slightly turning on my heel, slamming the door behind me.

Okay, maybe dealing with Ethan would’ve been easier than ever having to witness that.

I walk downstairs. That sight sobered me up more than all the water I just drank.

I card through the people again now annoyed with how many people are here. Christ i just want to be alone somewhere.

Going back outside I sit back down next to Ethan. He had moved to the side where I had been sitting. And now he was smoking some weed.

“Back already?”

His tone sounds amused, and now that I’m more sober I can clearly see him checking me out.

“You mind?” I raise an eyebrow turning more towards him. my eyes scanning his face.

He had those dark brown eyes. They were droopy and he had heavy bags under them. His hair did remind me of Chris’, it was almost the same shade. His hair was curlier than Chris’ tho and probably also a little longer. His jawline is sharp and-

Why the hell am I comparing this random cute skater boy to Chris?

“No” he chuckles and looks at me.

He looks kind, honestly.

I lean over taking the blunt from between his lips and putting them between my own.

“What, did you already smoke the blunt I just gave you?”

“So what if I did?”

I didn’t. It was still in my purse, but he didn’t need to know that. Maybe he’ll give me more.

I pull the blunt from my lips blowing the smoke right in his face. But he doesn’t even flinch at it.

He’s a stoner, of course, he wouldn’t.

He chuckles watching me, taking the blunt from my lips before I can take a drag. Grinning, he puts it between his own lips.

“ ‘ts fine. I have more” he mumbles around the blunt before inhaling properly.

“I see that” I chuckle watching him as he takes a drag.

He looks pretty like that. He looks painfully similar to Chris tho. He could almost be their lost brother. If he put in blue contacts that is.

That’s a stupid thought-

“So, you know the party is inside right? What’re you doing here?” I ask my curiosity taking over.

He chuckles blowing the smoke into my face like I had previously done to him. He puts the blunt between my lips.

“Don’t question me, pretty girl.” He chuckles. I raise an eyebrow but inhale from the blunt. Watching him pull the blunt to his own lips as I exhale.

“Yeah,” I chuckle watching him. I feel more sober than before, but the weed is making me feel things again. “Mhm, so don’t question me either.”

He raises an eyebrow, pulling the blunt from his lips. But before he can ask anything I'm climbing into his lap.

He’d been sitting there all sprawled out. And the weed was starting to hit me. I don’t know why I’d get on the lap of this random, hot, interesting guy. But, why not?

And if Chris can fuck someone else, I might as well have fun too.

He doesn’t tense up, probably as high as me, if not even more. He looks up at me on his lap looking so kissable.

Those lips that look like Chris’ are driving me crazy

“Making moves on me now sweetheart?” He chuckles putting the blunt between his lips again as he takes another drag. His eyes are already red, and mine are probably starting to get red too.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with me”

I answer without thinking. Being high, and slightly tipsy from earlier was making me bolder. And the way he looks at me gives me an ego boost.

I pull the blunt from his lips after he takes a drag of it. I chuckle, putting the blunt between my own lips and taking a drag.

“Oh but have I?”

After inhaling I pull the blunt from my lips. Putting it out on the porch steps next to us.

I lean over him my hand cupping his jaw as I kiss him blowing the weed smoke into his mouth.

Except we never pull apart. his hand goes to the back of my neck and my waist, as we start to make out heavily.

My arm wraps around his neck the other one holding him by his jaw as the kiss turns even more hearted.

His hand starts to tail down my waist, to my thigh. My left thigh. His hand grazes my bare skin, getting dangerously close to my ass, and my lacy thong than I would like.

We probably look like we’re trying to devour each other. Well, that’s at least how I feel. Until-

“What the fuck?”

Chris.

I pull away from Ethan abruptly. He looks at my face, then to where I am looking.

Chris is standing there in all his glory. His arms crossed, as he stands in front of the back door. All the way at the top of the steps, on the porch, looking down at us.

I clench my jaw. I wanna ignore him and go back to what I was doing but he was giving me that look. That look that promised trouble. He was telling me to come to him, without telling me.

I lean against Ethan pecking his jawline.

“I gotta go pretty boy”

I mumble under my breath before getting up from where I’d been on his lap and walking the few steps up the porch.

My tiny handbag is on my arm as I walk towards Chris. I pull down the back of my dress as I feel Chris' harsh grip on my upper arm.

“Upstairs you’re gonna regret that.” He says under his breath leaning in slightly so I can hear him.

I purse my lips opening the backdoor and walking in. Chris’ hand stays on my arm pulling me upstairs.

We enter some random room.

The same room that he fucked her in.

He presses a kiss to my head, leaning over me to undo the lace at the back of my dress. The back of the dress wasn’t open, but it had a lace to make it tight.

“You were gonna let him fuck you huh?” He mumbles kissing my jaw.

He locks the door and pulls his shirt over his head.

“Did you fuck her?” The words leave my lips before I think about it. I’m still high from all the weed I’d smoked.

“No.” He says pointedly. My eyes started to trail down his chest. A sight I’ve seen so many times before. “You cockblocked me”

He leans in kissing me as I just kiss back letting him take the lead.

“Did I?” I mock back. My tone is mildly condescending. My eyes glued on his. Those blue eyes piercing through my soul, he looks like he wants to eat me alive

“Yeah. How about you make it up to me, hm?” He says. His tone was ever so condescending and cocky.

I hadn’t even known he’d be at this party. And that makes me think, he was never the type to drink, so he was probably wanting to get laid.

But why wouldn’t he just call me?

I also hadn’t seen Nick or Matt anywhere, so I would assume that he’s here alone.

He hadn’t told me he’d be here. And honestly, I wouldn’t expect him to. After all, I still hate him, and he obviously hates me.

Before I can reply to his question his lips crash on mine again. My arms wrap around his neck, his hands firmly on my waist.

He pulls away from the kiss. He leans down to the hem of my dress to pull it over my head. I slip out of the dress as he just throws it somewhere carelessly. It landed next to his discarded shirt.

“Want you to ride me Ma”

“Yeah?” I raise an eyebrow. Looking him over. He starts to undo his jeans sliding out of them.

He looks over my lacy panties and matching bra. They’re plain black and simple. But Chris likes them.

Chris likes my body, but he hates me.

Before I know it we’re on the bed, Chris under me. I hover over his dick, as I slowly slide down in it.

I watch as Chris sighs throwing his head back further into the pillow under his head watching me.

“You like that?” I scoff. My words come out more rough and disgusted than I intended. He just.. god his existence pisses me off.

“Yeah ma,” his tone is sharp from the heavy breaths he’d been taking.

I lean down to him to kiss him. His hand stays on my waist while my hand is on his chest the other one next to his head to steady myself.

He suddenly grabs my face, holding me by my chin. I look down at him waiting for him to talk.

“Where you gonna fuck him like this too?”

He asks his tone sharp still. But now because he is disgusted and angry, not because he’s breathing hard.

“No. Fuck me like you mean it”

He snaps staring back up at me. He lets go of my face pushing me back. I scoff leaning away to sit up again. His hand goes back to my waist waiting for me to move.

I start to move on it again. Slowly grinding into him. My hand which had been next to his head, trails from his collarbone down his chest to his abdomen. Until I pull my hand off of him.

I start to bounce on it more. Now, not just rocking my hips, but fully riding him.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my dick like the fucking slut you are.”

I hear his breaths get sharper again. His hand trails lower to my hips as he starts to pull me down, intensifying my movements.

I can feel him hit my cervix with every thrust. This angle is heavenly.

The harder I start to ride him, the harsher his grip on my hips gets.

I feel a knot building In my stomach. My movements get sloppier as a result. My eyes shut for a moment as my mouth falls open.

Suddenly I feel a harsh slap on my ass. My eyes snap open as I glare down at Chris.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He says lowly, his voice gruff and laced with lust

I feel him start to move me more than I move myself. “Fuck- Chris” I breathe out as I fall forward. My hands landed on each side of his head to steady myself. My moans echoed through the room.

He starts to fuck up into me. thrusting into my core, while moving me on him to watch his pace. His eyes are locked to where we connect, to where he is fucking me.

“I’m so close-“ I breathe out staring down at him. His pretty blue eyes meet mine again.

“Go on. cum for me, slut”

He starts to pick up pace even more, if that was even possible. The eye contact makes this just that much more intense.

He glances down at my lips and then licks his own. My mouth falls open in a silent Moran watching him, not daring to close my eyes.

At this point, I had fully drowned out the sound of the music from the party downstairs. It was already only a mild hum as we got upstairs. But now this intense feeling of being filled like this was making me forget anything and everything, other than the boy currently under me.

“Come” he demands. I feel another harsh slap on my ass, making y body jolt.

The knot in my stomach snaps. My entire body tenses and I struggle to keep myself up

But Chris holds me in place as he fucks me through it, the continuous brush to my cervix only intensifying the pleasure further.

He slows down, not moving anymore as I come down from my high. This type of high felt better than any drug ever could.

I sit up wincing at the fact that he was still buried deep inside of me.

“Should’ve known I was gonna end up fucking you anyway” he chuckles watching my expression.

He pulls me up slightly, his length slipping out of me. before abruptly switching our positions. He is now on top of me staring down at him.

He taps my arm grinning. “Turn around for me Cherry.”

Cherry, a nickname he had given me when we were just six or so. I’d been eating a bunch of cherries that summer. Chris had loved the fruit, but he hated me. So to mock my love for them he started calling me Cherry.

And it stuck. His brothers also called me that. And then later my other friends. And then basically everyone I knew, and was close to.

It was a cute nickname. But the nickname was born out of hatred and annoyance. Even tho Chris had loved cherries as much as I had, he’d pointedly stopped eating them after that year of my obsession with them.

I’ll see him sometimes have one, but he would never admit that he still liked cherries.

I hum still catching my breath as I turn around.

I prop myself up on my hands and knees, looking over my shoulder. His hand rubbed over my ass. Him deliberately running his length up my slit to coat it in my juices again.

He looks up his eyes meeting mine. And before I knew it he was ramming into me. My eyes widen as I turn to look back in front of me. He immediately picks up a steady and fast pace.

Fucking into me from behind. My core was throbbing around his length, either from too much stimulation, or too little..

He starts to rock his hips into me harder. My moans echo through the room loudly.

My arms start to shake as I struggle to keep myself up.

He grabs my hair roughly, putting it into a makeshift ponytail. He starts to pull on it, using it both as leverage, but also to hold me up.

“Such a tight cunt, all for me” he chuckles using his free hand to spank my ass again.

I clench at the dirty words. And the way his low voice is laced with so much obvious arousal and lust. And the way he is thrusting into me from behind.

If I had to guess I’d probably say, anything from behind is his favorite. Doggy, face down ass up, whatever.

I don’t know if that I’d because he doesn’t want to see me, or if he is just an ass guy, or both, but it doesn’t matter, since it feels good.

He slams into me harshly again, before stopping his movements. I groan in annoyance. I feel the knot in my stomach fades.

Was he fucking edging me now too?

“C’mon” he says harshly slapping My ass again. “Work that ass”

Before I know it I’m already moving. Thrusting my ass back into him. Twerking back on his dick. He tugs at my hair again. I feel his stare at my ass. He was probably looking over the way his big dick disappeared into me.

“Yeah, good girl,” he says in that low sexy tone. His hand moves out of my hair, tailing down to my waist. His other hand trailed from my hip to my waist too.

Suddenly he holds me still and starts to thrust into me again. His thrusts were seemingly harsher than they were before.

I squeal out a moan, my head turning to look over my shoulder.

His pretty eyes focused on my ass. His grip was harsh on my waist. He lets out harsh breaths.

I feel him move slightly, readjusting, his hand going to the small of my back to arch my back slightly. His thrust picks up again and I instinctively Lean lower. My hands quickly guided out making my face fall onto the pillow.

But instead of trying to get up again, I simply lay my upper body down, my arms wrapping around the pillow.

I moan and whine his name over and over again. He has the best mix of sweet and dirty talk. Always degrading but also praising me at the same time.

My back arches back into him “Chris- I’m close” I whine loudly getting cut off by another string of moans leaving my lips.

“Hold it.” He grits out. His hips snap into me harder. His dick grazed every spot making me feel like I’m in heaven. “I’m close too”

The sound of skin clapping and the dirty wet sounds coming from my cunt is loud. He slaps into me repeatedly, my eyes starting to water from the effort it takes not to come at the spot.

“You’re not gonna come before me” he demands his thrusts getting more sloppy and messy. I can feel his dick twitching inside of me as I know he is close too. normally he'd just let me whenever, but it was really dependent on his mood

“Understood, be a good slut and listen ‘aight?” He scoffs his grip on my waist bruising.

I throw myself back in him, meeting his thrust.

“Yes, god- please” I whine. And suddenly I feel Chris’ hips stutter. With one last thrust, I feel his load spill into me.

I continue to move myself back against him tho, feeling my own orgasm wash over me.

He pulls out slowly, but not really gently. He watches for a moment as our combined juices leak out of me.

I sigh heavily trying to catch my breath as I lay down on this stranger's bed fully.

I turn to my side for a moment. Chris rubs over my side and back. He leans down leaving a short peck on my ribs. Caressing my skin.

My eyes meet his again, and he looks… cold.

He doesn’t look like he’d just fucked me. He just looked at me blankly. The caressing didn’t feel like it was out of care and a will to comfort, but rather a force of habit.

He gets up from the bed, and I just watch him as he gets some tissues cleaning himself off quickly before getting dressed again.

I sigh turning full onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. This would be when he leaves.

Fuck, what if Evelyn noticed me going upstairs with Chris?

She knows we hate each other. It’s hard to explain. But I can’t just explain everything to her, it’s a secret. Id have to come up with some excuse and-

“Get up” his harsh voice breaks me out of my trance, my head snapping towards him.

“What?” I ask back flatly, my mind not registering why he is still standing there with his arms crossed.

I feel a chill run up my spine from how cold and uncaring he looks with that glare. The one he always gives me when we’re arguing.

“Get the fuck up? Did you lose that many brain cells?” He scoffs looking back at me.

I glance down at my nude body and then back at Chris. I try to get up as carefully as possible. Trying to get as little as possible of our juices onto this stranger's bed.

I mildly struggle to stand, leaning back at the bed frame to keep myself up straight.

He looks almost proud of the state he put me in. But the disgust in his eyes is stronger.

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

My tone is low but still harsh. I close my eyes for a second, sighing in annoyance.

He looks around the room, before fining and picking up my previously discarded panties.

He licks his teeth for a second before huffing.

He opens them for me. I raise an eyebrow, but ultimately just step through the thong, my hands on his shoulders for support. I let him Pull it up.

Cringing at the feeling of the lingering creampie and the fabric on me.

He wasn’t gonna a bother cleaning me?

“Go on.” He huffs looking back into my eyes as I look into his.

“Walk downstairs, go back to that party, back to that dude. Let him fuck you.” He shrugs his words harsh. He back up slightly looking down at my thighs where he can still see the juices run down my thighs.

“I’m sure you’d like having more than one guy cum in you, right?” He mocks leaning into me again. His glare burns into my face, making me feel like I’m naked, which I am.

“Since you’re such a slut, you probably wouldn’t mind fucking more than one guy right?”

He scoffs leaning away abruptly.

I look at him. My shock subsides as a glare settles on my face. I get that he likes degrading me or whatever, But does he actually think I’m that much of a slut.

“Go on, cherry.” He scoffs tilting his head as he looks over his shoulder his gaze locked on mine.

Why does he always have to ruin good moments?

“Fuck you, Chris.” I say back harshly my tone purely rude.

“Oh, you already have.”

I pause dumbfounded.

I didn’t mean it literally. But I mean I had done that, literally.

The harsh smack of the door catches my attention. I lock back over at the door.

He had left.

God, in hindsight that was a stupid insult. I could’ve said something more creative.

I purse my lips staring a f the door. Before my eyes trail over the now-empty room. The room was pretty neat, except for my clothing scattered around.

Right when I think I tolerate him,

Right after he makes me feel so good,

He’ll do the simplest thing,

And ruin it.

God I hate him.

Masterlist

A/N: looks like this is going to be a series lol

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin

#Spotify #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #fanfic series

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anastasiabowe · 8 months ago

Text

𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙃 𝙂𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙉 — As a broke college student, it’s not wrong to want a rich husband! That doesn’t mean you’re a gold digger, or will stoop so low you will ruin your worth, it just means you want a man who will take care of you, and guess what? You found him.

note: this will be a 3 part series! First one I’ve ever made and may be my last! So please not too much on these writings! Luv you!

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄 𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙄𝙄

Content Warnings: Language..? Nothing other than that!

Nanami stared at his reflection.

“Nanami, get it together. It’s just a date, you’ve done them plenty of times.”

Nanami repeated that to himself and each time he got more nervous. His hands were now sticky with sweat, and his stomach began to hurt from the nerves. Nanami has never been this nervous, not even for business meetings that can determine his companies status or funds.

Nanami’s phone chimed a little song as his alarm went off. It was 5:15 and he needed to leave for his date.

He went to his sink and washed the sweat from his hands. He grabbed his car keys and headed to his garage.

Once he got in his car and started driving, he didn’t want to do this date anymore. What if you found him ugly? I mean the photos he chose weren’t the best, but what if you were expecting younger, or handsomer?!

He pulled into Hermès’ parking lot, and he went to park in a spot as close to the restaurant in case of a quick exit he may have to make.

He sat in his car as the clock ticked. It was only 5:25, and his reservation wouldn’t be ready for another five minutes. He took a deep breath, and made his way into the luxurious restaurant. He signed in, and the Server brought him to his table. Nanami thanked him as the server said he would be right back and Nanami nodded. Just as he sat down his phone chimed and he picked it up.

He saw a message from Haibara.

H: “Hey dude, just wanted to wish you luck. Remember, don’t think too much and act like you. It’s not as complicated as you think! Alright, I gotta go, tell me all about the date after it, or tomorrow!

N: Thank you, I really appreciate it Haibara. I will tell you all about it tomorrow!

Nanami smiled, Haibara was too good for him. His phone chimed again and a message from you appeared on his screen.

Y: “Hey Kento! I might be running late, I missed my bus, so it might take me a few minutes! (Hopefully it’s not a deal breaker😅)

Nanami laughed to himself while also internally punching himself. Why didn’t he offer you a ride!? Oh he’s such an idiot! While Nanami cursed himself for mistakes he didn’t even make, the waiter looked at him in slight discomfort.

“Sir?” Nanami jerked his head towards the young man, startled by his sudden appearance.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Nanami kindly apologized.

“Oh, it’s not problem, at all! I was just wondering if you were waiting for someone, if not, are you ready to order drinks?” The young man so kindly asked the clueless Nanami the 4th time about what his plans were at the restaurant.

“Yes, I am waiting for someone, you can come back in five minutes, sorry for the troubles.” Nanami felt like an absolute clown. He is recognizable. He bets the waiter felt bad for him, thinking he was stood up, so he lingered to keep him company.

“Alright, I will be back shortly!” The young gentleman walked away, and Nanami checked his phone to see another message from you.

Y:“Hi! I’m at the front, the woman won’t let me in unless the person who made the reservation comes and gets me..”

Nanami sighed, places like these makes him hate reservations. He walks towards the front, and he couldn’t help but fucking forget how to breathe.

He saw you standing in a deep green dress. It was so flattering on your body, Nanami had to bite his lip to hold back the groan he wanted to let out.

“Hello, I am Kento Nanami. This is my date, please let her in.” Nanami’s stern voice irritatingly informed the woman. She looked up at Nanami with slight fear, she was different from the other guy who let him in, so she must be new.

You awkwardly smiled at the woman and walked towards Nanami. Nanami stepped to the side to let you walk past, and he eyed the woman up and down.

Nanami followed you and soon lead you to the table, and he pulled out your seat to help you sit down. He cringed at himself for acting so out of character for you. He never once felt or done this for a date, and so this all feels so forced.

“Thank you.” Your soft, sweet, voice quietly giggled and thanked him as you scooted your chair in with the help of Nanami.

“No problem.” He grunted. The awkward tension between you two was thick, but praise to god above, the waiter came over to the table.

“Glad to see your date arrived Mr. Nanami.” The waiter smirked towards Nanami, Nanami not finding it very funny. You looked in between them both, it just have been an inside joke.

“Can I get you both started with drinks?”

You looked at Nanami, insinuating him to order first.

“Um, What’s your finest wine?”

“That would be the Romanée-Conti, sir.”

“Then I will have that.” Nanami cleared his throat. You smirked, and looked at the waiter.

“A water would be fine, thank you.” The waiter nodded.

“I will be right back with your drinks.” Nanami and you both nodded back.

“So you don’t drink wine?”

“I’m 20.” You smiled at him.

Nanami felt a spring burst in his ear. You were 20, how could he forget!

“I’m sorry, I knew that, I do not know what’s come over me!" He scoffed at himself.

"Oh, no worries at all!" You awkwardly laughed. You hoped he wasn't too upset for forgetting your age..

"I tried a few types of wine before when I went to Europe with my family a while ago, I didn't really like any of them." You smiled, hopefully that helped ease his nerves.

Nanami chuckled, trying to erase the embarrassment he felt for acting so childish. No one would be offended if someone forgets their age..! "Am I a fucking child?! Who would get mad if I forget their age!" Nanami thought to himself.

"Wine is not for everyone. Took me a while to find my niche." Nanami smiled, making eye contact. You looked down when you caught his eyes, and tried to hide the smile that was creeping on your face.

Nanami knew that look, and felt his heart warm. "So, tell me, Y/n," he cleared his throat. "What are you majoring in?"

You looked back up, surprised at his question. "Uh, I'm majoring in business!" You smirked, seeing a sparkle appear in his eyes. You knew he loved to talk about business, hence everything in his profile was about business.

"interesting. Are you planning on starting one?"

"yes! I mean, I'm not sure what I want to do with any businesses I might create, but they're somewhere on the line of some sort of marketing." Nanami couldn't find you any more perfect. Not only are you beautiful and smart, you both share the same interests!

"Wow, I mean, if you need any help starting a business, you can always ask me. I've helped over 300 people start a business and 98% of them were successful." Your heart beated at the thought of having your own business and maybe a partner to help you through it all.

"really? I couldn't ask you to do that."

"I would love to, my favorite thing is to help others succeed. That's the whole point of my company."

You softly smiled, honestly completely out of words.

"Just let me know. But, let's put that aside, I'm curious, why were you truly on Richify?"

You laughed, you knew he would ask, I mean it was a very valid question.

"I could ask the same for you, but to tell you the truth, I want a rich husband." You were utterly amazed by how honest you were being. You barely know Kento and here you are telling him your selfish desires.

He lifted both of his eyebrows in shock, but had a playful smirk dancing on his face.

"Oh, is that so?"

"I don't like dating around. For the few guys I've been with, after maybe the second date, they just weren't the one so I limited who I met with and who I talked to." You scratched your head, hoping he agreed.

Nanami thought about his words carefully.

"Exactly that. I don't get how people can just hop from person to person, I can't stand the thought of it." Nanami chuckled, you chuckling with him.

"yeah, but you seem like someone worth my time." This time those words actually came out of your mouth on their own. You slapped your hand over your mouth. Nanami chuckled, amused by your slight embarrassment.

"is that so?" Nanami puting more emphasis on 'that'.

"I don't know why I said that.." you shyly giggle. He only eyed you down, making you more nervous.

"don't worry, I think you're worth my time also." Nanami winked, you smiled, and started to ease up. The waiter came back with the wine and water.

"Here you..go." he carefully set the wine glasses down, alongside a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine.

"would you like me to pour you your wine, or would you prefer to have the bottle?"

"I'll take the bottle, thank you."

"alright, are you both ready to order?"

You and Nanami gave him your respective orders, and the rest of the night went really well!

As the night went on, you found out truly why nanami was on that app and what his true desires were. The desires of wanting his own family, a family that didn't worry about money, a family that loved each other. You couldn't help but think about how a man with such power and influence would want such a normal life. But, you also smiled thinking about how much you both wanted the same thing.

You both also talked about how it was for a girl so young to not find any guys, and a guy so old to not find any girls and how funny it was that you both met.

You both also started to talk about things more deeper, more personal. You both talked about the failed relationships and the dates you went on, what your likes and dislikes were, turn ons and turn offs, what you both found weird or normal, or even your favorite type of animal. Everything either of you said did nothing more than to help the person you were sitting across fall more deeply in love with you.

Nanami admired every single aspect of you. He adored how wide your smile would get just from his jokes and stories alone, how beautiful your hands were, which were littered with rings, as they smoothed down your dress, he admired how clean and beautiful you looked, no matter how much you covered your face with your hands, he found you beautiful. No matter how much you nervously hugged your body, he found you even more beautiful. You were simply too beautiful for him to handle.

And ever since that night, dinners turned into breakfast, and breakfasts turned into brunches, and brunchs turned into amusement parks, and amusement parks turned into sleep overs, and sleep overs turned into moving in.

"Nanami," you sighed as he pulled you softly onto his lap, legs spreading as he held your hips tightly. "You know I couldn't do that to you, my apartment is fine!"

He looked up at you, eyes soft as a knowingly smile danced on his face. He's asked you quite a few times to just move in with him, you've always been hesitant to the idea, not sure if that's what your ready for. You've never moved in with a boyfriend, let alone someone like Nanami.

"I know baby, but it would be so beneficial for us both. I mean, we can carpool to work since you took that internship at my job, we don't have to worry about meeting up when we are always together, I mean, hell, you wouldn't have to worry about rent." He softly said, as you continued to have your worries.

His house was so empty without you there all the time. I mean, he barely has anything in that mansion, and whenever you come over, you always shiver from how cold it was, except when you get to snuggle under the warm pink blankets you brought to his house to give it a little color instead of the plain white, black, and gray color scheme.

"Yeah, but that's a big step. I mean I have a lot of stuff and 2 pets!" You looked into his eyes as you emphasized your point.

"I love Milo and Princess." He simply said.

"I have a lot of clothes" He smirked as I said that as if that was a laughable point.

"I have a few walk in closets"

"I mean, God knows if my landlord will let me move out, I don't really know the terms and conditions of my lease."

"we'll figure it out." His voice never wavered nor changed in tone as he softly reassured you.

You didn't have any other points than that, I mean, what if it doesn't... You know..

"Wait, but what if-"

"Y/n please, I'm not trying to pressure you, but I think you moving in would be for the best. It gets so lonely when I don't have you next to me every waking moment. I need you here with me, I need you to help fill this empty house with things you love, we love." Nanami chuckled thinking about how the house would be a completely new home with your charm added to it. It would have a warmer and homier feel to it.

His hands began to softly rub up your sides and to your back. His would softly glide over your skin, making you melt into his touch. You nodded and relaxed as his words of how much he wanted, no needed you here made you feel. You did want to live with him. You wanted to wake up and breathe his fresh smell, listen to his deep soothing voice hum any song, and feel him everywhere you go.

You wanted to say 'Yes nanami! I will move in with you!' but an underlying feeling of doubt still clouded your mind. You had to say something.

"Nanami, I want to live with you, I really do! But.." his hands stopped moving, and slowly settled back onto my hips.

"But? Is something wrong?" His face now wasn't as soft and playful, now more tense and worried.

"No, but.." I sighed, trying to look away from him. He softly grabbed my chin with his hand making me face him again, eyes staring up directly into yours.

"Tell me, I promise you, no problem can't be fixed."

"I'm sorry, I really didn't want to think this way, but.. What if we, you know, break up? I mean I can't afford to move out, and my family lives far and that would really su-"

"y/n." He stopped me before my head started spiraling. He knew how you thought. He knew how much you overthink simple things, and don't always see things positively.

He took a deep breath, unsure as to why you were thinking you both might separate.. were you..

Unhappy?

"Please tell me you aren't unhappy in our relationship." Nanami's eyes left your as he was now just searching your face for a confirmation.

"no! No of course not, I'm very happy, why would you think that?" Now it was your turn to grab his chin and make him face you.

"well, I mean, you're having doubts about us taking our relationship to the next level, and your scaring me with the thought you don't see us ending up in a happy successful relationship." His voice was so raw, so clear, he was genuinely nervous about how you truly felt.

You felt extremely terrible for even thinking so negatively. You knew your boyfriend hated when you thought negatively, always taking those thoughts as something you're actually feeling. And in this case, he was assuming you weren't happy in your relationship.

Nanami's eyebrows were extremely furrowed as he tried to process and read your facial expressions again for now, a sign of any lies in what you said.

Your face softened as you placed both of your hands on the sides of his face. Your thumbs came to his brows as you softly stroked them to help them go back to his they were as you spoke to him.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I promise I didn't mean to insinuate that. It's just, I've never moved in with a boyfriend of mine, and I usually like to prepare for the worst." Your voice was quiet as you felt his eyebrows' tension slowly release and his arms wrapped around your waist tightly. Nanami laid his cheek on your chest, and let out a huge breath in relief.

"Just.." nanami chuckled. "Just let me know what you decide on. I'm not going anywhere, so take as much time as you need." You smiled, and stroked his hair. You just hummed in response, and you both continued to peacefully dwell in each other's arms.

#nanami kento #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk kento #kento smut #jjk

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moonstruckme · 9 months ago

Note

hi mae! i’ve recently become obsessed with herbal teas and i noticed you have mentioned chamomile and jasmine tea in your fics lol. i am wondering if you would be interested in writing a remus or poly!marauders fic with an american reader who loves herbal teas and they kinda tease her about it (in a loving way of course)? i love your fics and i hope you have a lovely day whenever you read this <3

I love herbal teas! I fully support this obsession honey. Thank you for requesting!

cw: british slander, i love y'all but i'm besmirching your brand <3 (based largely on my own experiences lol, so perhaps not fully accurate)

Remus Lupin x american!reader ♡ 614 words

“This is so disappointing,” you sigh at the sight of Remus’ cabinet.

“What?” he asks from the couch.

“You told me you had tea.”

“I do have tea.”

“No, you only have this.” You take the box of Yorkshire Tea out of the cabinet, brandishing it where Remus can see. “This shit is nasty. Rubbish, as your folk say.”

“Oh,” he laughs, “so you sail all the way across the ocean, take our teas with you, denounce our government, and then come back here to criticize, is that it?”

You look at him darkly. “This is what the Boston tea party was really about. I get it now.”

Remus beckons you toward the couch. You go, abandoning the boiling kettle since apparently there’s no point in searching the kitchen for anything good to drink. It’s only once you sit down on the couch and he takes your hand into his lap that you realize your mistake.

Remus has a mollifying effect on you. It’s tragic, really. All it takes is a look, a shift in his tone, a small touch like this, and you’re pliant and boneless for him.

“What sort of teas do you prefer?” he asks you softly, tracing the lines of your palm.

“I usually keep a variety,” you tell him, matching his tone. “Like cinnamon, or passionflower, or rooibos…have you heard of any of those?”

Remus smiles, slow and sweet. “I have. Would you like whipped cream and sprinkles on those as well?”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. You try to take your hand back, but Remus holds fast (you don’t make it hard for him), grinning at you.

“That is so not fair. Just because y’all like your tea bland—”

“Say that one more time for me? Who all?”

“—doesn’t mean my tastes are somehow unrefined.” You fix him with a hard stare, though your smile is untamable. “You’re being posh.”

Remus looks amused. “Never been accused of that one before,” he says.

“Have you ever tried jasmine tea with a little bit of sweet creamer in it?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Remus, you’re really missing out.”

“Alright.” He stands, taking your hand with him and giving it a tug when you don’t follow. “C’mon, up.”

“Where are we going?”

“To make you a cuppa.”

You giggle. “I can’t take you seriously when you call it that.”

“Once you stop saying dude, we can talk about my diction.”

“So mean,” you tsk, letting him pull you over in front of the kitchen counter. He pours the hot water from the kettle into a mug, placing a tea bag in it.

“We’ll get this drinkable for you, love, don’t worry,” Remus murmurs, waiting until the tea is a deep brown before going to the fridge. He pours in heaps of milk and sugar, stirring with a look of mild distaste in his expression. “Alright, try.”

You take the mug off the counter warily, blowing on it before putting it to your lips.

You hum, and Remus lifts an eyebrow.

“It’s…better.”

“I’ve done my best,” he chuckles, taking it from you. “I’ve thrown all my principles and better sense out the window, and it’s still not up to your standards, hm?”

“No, it’s not bad.” You steal the mug back, taking another sip and smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth experimentally. “It’ll do.”

Remus gives you an indulgent look. “I’m sure we can find you some jasmine tea if that’s what you want,” he offers.

You shrug. “I was just at the grocery store, and I didn’t see any.”

He tilts his head skyward, blowing out a long-suffering breath. “I think you mean the grocery, sweetheart.”

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boydepartment · 11 months ago

Note

hiii can you do enha finding out you have a crush on them from one of the members

“R U FR?” - enhypen reaction to finding out you’re in love with them

a/n: i am so sorry this took a million years BUT HERE IT IS :3 I ALSO DIDNT KNOW HOW TO TITLE THIS SO I HOPE PPL READ THE ASK LMAO

warnings- nothing- fluff, reader uses she/her

MASTERLIST

🥯jungwon… he was working on some lyrics for a song that he wanted to write. he never really took part in something like this directly so it was new to him. and he was struggling.

“jay… i don’t know what to write, it’s a love song! i’m struggling.” he leaned his head on the desk and watched as jay messed with the different knobs on his guitar.

“ask y/n she’s like in love with you.” jay mumbled without thinking, he shot his head up and looked at jungwon who also shot up.

jungwon slowly turned to jay, “are you… being honest with me?”

his older brother sat awkwardly, “ummm if i said yes?”

almost immediately jungwon got up and called you asking your location, if he had to run to you he would. and he was going to.

🥨heeseung… he sat on his back in the practice room singing to himself. he took up extra practices for the next upcoming comeback and you had left a couple hours ago after dropping him off lunch. he was so thankful for you and it made him smile to himself. around 4am riki walked in and sat down next to heeseung.

“dude it smells like body odor and noodles in here what the fuck did you do?” riki asked between laughs

heeseung sat up and rolled his eyes, “it smells like noodles because y/n dropped me off food.”

riki scoffed, “when did she drop off the food? i didn’t see her.”

heeseung leaned back again, “couple hours ago, around 1am.”

“1AM???? damn she really is in love with you hah!” riki froze right after the words came out of his mouth. god he spoils everything.

“wh-what??” heeseung looked at him wide eyed, ears pink.

riki immediately got up and ran out, leaving heeseung to sit in the practice room alone blushing.

🥐jay… you had a rough couple weeks due to family stuff and jay felt bad. you were a really close friend of his and he hated seeing you so upset. to make you feel better jay started cooking you your favorite meal. he was in the kitchen cooking and planning out his day so he can drop it off to you while it’s still warm. he was mumbling to himself when jake walked in.

“is this dinner?” jake asked, sitting on the counter. jay looked at him.

“1 get your ass off the counter, and 2 no, it’s for y/n, it’s her favorite.”

jake looked at the food, “this is a lot to give her.”

jay nodded, “i’m hoping it’ll last her a few days, it’s been rough for her lately.”

“i’m sure her just seeing you will make her feel better, she talks about you all the time yaknow?” jake said mindlessly, ass still sat on the counter.

jay nodded and hummed without thinking. jake thought he was ignoring him so he wanted to test it, “she’s in love with you.”

jay’s eyes widened and he almost dropped the wooden spoon, he looked over at jake and smacked him with it, “that’s not funny and i told you get your ass off the counter!”

🧇jake… he was waiting for you to come over to the dorm. you needed help on an essay and jake had free time so he offered to help you. he also loved to keep his skills sharp so he lived vicariously through your university work. he was frantically cleaning his room when sunoo walked in.

“oh you’re finally cleaning your room?” sunoo spoke leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed.

jake looked up at him, “yeah y/n is coming over, it needs to be clean i don’t want her to be grossed out by me.”

sunoo scoffed, “she’s seen you laugh so hard snot comes out of your nose and she’s still in love with you.”

jake stopped mid throw, his paper ball not landing in the trash, “wait what?”

sunoo laughed, throwing his head back, “oh nothing!” before walking to his own room. jake was suddenly hyper aware of his messy room and the time. you were going to arrive any minute and he was sweating nervously.

🥞sunghoon… he was getting dressed up to meet you for coffee. you were actually in town for the week so he wanted to see you again. you had been busy with classes and work and just life in general. so sunghoon wanted to take you out for froyo, he was buttoning up his coverup and putting on cologne when heeseung entered the bathroom.

“do you have a date today or something?” heeseung looked at him, eyebrows rising.

sunghoon shook his head no, “just taking y/n out for ice cream.”

heeseung now looked at him funny, “are you sure it’s not a date? she likes you a lot yaknow, like love love.”

“what? what do you mean!?” sunghoon flipped around to look at him, “do i look okay? is it too much? should i change? wait she’s in love with me?!”

heeseung left the bathroom after tapping him on the shoulder and a small good luck.

🍞sunoo… you and sunoo were having your monthly movie nights. it used to be weekly but since he became an idol he gets busy a lot. but you were willing to wait the once a month for these movie nights and for him. you were knocked out on the couch in the dorm and sunoo walked to the hall closet to get you an extra blanket. jay walked past him but stopped, jay knew you were going to confess to sunoo today. he was the one who told you to

“did y/n talk to you yet?”

sunoo smiled to himself, “we always talk, why?”

“so are you guys together now or?”

sunoo looked at him a little confused. jay yawned and stretched a bit, he was half asleep as he started walking again, “she was supposed to confess how she’s been in love with you for years. guess she forgot to.”

sunoo walked back quickly to you practically shaking you awake after that. he loved you just as much as you loved him, and sleep was not going to get in the way of that.

🍰riki… you were in the shower in the dorm. on the way home from a cafe it started pouring which led to you getting soaked. riki knew you were bad with the cold so he immediately shoved you in the bathroom with a change of warm clothes. not wanting you to get sick, then he walked to his room to make sure it was tidy and had enough blankets for you both.

jake was already in his room though, “what’re you doing in here?”

jake looked up, “looking for the ipad, where is it?”

riki blinked, “i need it you can’t have it right now.” he started rearranging the blankets on his bed. jake looked at him, jaw agape.

“what the hell for what?! give it!”

riki looked back at him, “you’re acting like you’re the child.” jake started searching riki’s desk.

“hey! cut it out! me and y/n are watching a movie after she gets out of the shower!” riki said and smacked him with a pillow.

jake stopped and his grin widened, “ohhhhhhhhhhh okay then never mind, if you and your girlfriend wanna watch a movie then i’m good i’ll just use heeseung’s pc.”

riki’s ears turned pink, “she’s not my girlfriend…” never in his life was he going to tell you his feelings for you.

“what really? i heard her talking on the phone the other day about how much she was in love with you? huh… maybe i heard wrong.” at that jake got up and left and almost immediately you entered the room. you looked at riki who was pink all over.

“ummm are you okay? do you have a fever?”

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writeaboutit · 2 months ago

Text

What Was That

Reader hears something and neighbor Abby come to the rescue

Hii yall I had this idea pop into my head and it definitely isn’t because this just happened to me and I wish I had hot neighbor Abby to check on me… no definitely not. That being said it is 5 am and I am exhausted so sorry for any mistakes in my writing. Anyway hope you guys like it!!

You’re not sure what you heard. It really could have been nothing. Now that you’re up looking around you don’t see anything; it was probably just a dream.

Although… your dog definitely heard whatever it was too seeing as he was barking his head off two seconds ago.

Yes. There is definitely something, but what is the question.

You turn on the flashlight toggle on your phone. Suddenly your bedroom is lit up in bright white light.

You squint your eyes as they burn with the lighting change. You have been asleep for the last few hours and going from complete darkness to flashlight beam is disorienting.

Nothing is out of place in your room. If you want to have any scrap of a chance of getting back to sleep you know you’re going to have to check the rest of the house too.

You throw the covers off and scurry out of bed. First the bathroom: nothing. Next the hallway: nothing but your dog now wagging his tail at your presence. Nope it’s not breakfast time yet dude.

You move into the living room and kitchen but those seem fine too.

Maybe it was your brain playing tricks on you but you could have sworn you heard a women yelling.

That was not normal and you would definitely not sleep until you got to the bottom of it.

Suddenly you remember you have an ally in this situation. The tall blonde that lives across the street who you would pretty much do anything for; let’s hope she feels the same about you.

You click on you phone screen and pull up your guys text thread. The last text is from last night, her telling you to get your pretty ass to bed.

You smile at it and then catch yourself. You really shouldn’t be getting attached, that was always the plan.

Whatever, that’s an issue for another time. Right now you need to text her and see if she heard it too.

He response only comes a minute later in the form of three bubbles popped up for all of two seconds before she is calling you.

Your heart speeds up at the Abby flashing across your screen, you take a deep breath and answer.

“Baby what are you doing up?”

God there she goes with that nickname. She says keep it casual and then says shit like that; what are you to think?

“I woke up to some noise outside, I was just wondering if you heard it too?” you ask slightly annoyed at her immediate muddying of your guy’s situation. But then again you’d hate it so much worse if she didn’t blur the lines.

“I didn’t hear anything, I was asleep until you texted me but what-“

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.” you interrupt her now feeling bad.

She sighs, “It’s fine baby, i prefer that you do. I just need to know what you heard.”

“Umm I thought it was a woman yelling. I mean i’m not completely sure but it woke me up and Jack was at the front door barking when I got up to check.”

It sounds like she sits up in bed suddenly, “Wait did you go outside?” her question is rushed almost panicked.

“No no of course not, I just mean I checked the rest of the house.” you say softly trying to calm her down.

It’s silent for a few moments and then more rustling can be heard, “Okay I’m gonna check outside and around the house, give me a minute.”

Suddenly the call clicks off and your heart drops. You didn’t want her to go poking around by herself, you just wanted to know if you were hearing things or not.

You wait anxiously, watching through your peephole for a few minutes before you see Abby’s frame stalking up your walkway.

You quickly unlock the door and throw it open. Jack immediately goes running out to greet the woman. She bends down to greet him before continuing to you.

She’s wearing grey sweatpants and a black compression shirt that fits her in all the right places.

It makes your mouth go dry. Why did she look this good after rolling out of bed at 4 in the morning?

You’re in sleep shorts, the biggest t-shirt you own, and you’re pretty sure you are sporting some dried drool on your cheek.

To busy analyzing what you look like you are taken by surprise when Abby grabs the nape of your neck and pulls you in for the most sensual two second peck you’ve ever experienced.

Seriously, how did this woman make everything so… hot?

She maneuvers past you and into the house calling Jack to come back inside. Once the dog trots his way back in, complete unphased by the nights events Abby closes and locks your front door.

You stand there looking at her dumbly.

“Come on I’m tired,” she grabs your hand and drags you down the hall to your bedroom.

You finally snap out of it, “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going to be able to sleep unless I’m here,” she explains and then much softer she says, “And i won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re alone.”

That surprise you. What does she mean by that? Whatever it is you don’t question it you just follow her under the covers.

You snuggle into her side, placing your head in the curve of her neck. She wraps her arm around your waist.

“Was there anything outside?” you’re too curious, you have to know.

“I didn’t see anything but I’m sure you did hear something going on, especially if Jack was barking.”

Her eyes are closed as she traces a couple fingers along the curve of your body.

You just hum, content to let whatever this is happen, even if it’s just for tonight.

#abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #wlw yearning #sapphic #wlw #lesbian #fanfiction #ao3 #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson pls save me #🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

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serpenlupus · 9 months ago

Text

About Wyll and his horns (and what they mean)

Let's say I was writing a part of my Tav's story with Wyll directly connected to the dialogue he has during the tiefling party, and while struggling with this bit, I've realized there's quite a few misconceptions floating around. I felt compelled to add information to the table that might clear them, so here we go.

First, what exactly happens to Wyll when he disobeys Mizora in act one? Well, he doesn't get turned into a devil, he certainly doesn't get turned into a tiefling, he's not a half fiend, not a demon, none of that. Wyll stays human, but he has horns and red eyes (and other features we can't see on his model as of now).

(Everyone has their race listed, Wyll's remains "Human")

This is because when a warlock fails to uphold some part of their contract they can suffer a certain number of consequences, Wylls is “The character grows horns, a tail, or some other devilish features that can't be removed by any means short of divine intervention. As long as these marks persist the character detects as a fiend when subjected to Detect Evil and Good spells or similar magic.” ( from Baldur's Gate: Descent into Avernus, page 214)

And I’ve come across some people that think it wasn’t so bad of a punishment, that he was being racist towards the tieflings, or just not being justified in being upset after having his body forcibly changed against his will. I think they are missunderstanding just how insidious Mizora’s actions were, and here I just want to give some context to maybe bring a better understanding to the situation. Your conclusions are up to you.

Gonna start by using a not exact analogy, but I think it’s going to make the explanation easier. Stick with me for a minute.

Remember Jack Sparrow in Pirates of the Caribbean? He had a branded “P” on his arm that marked him as a pirate. A murderer, robber, criminal, etc. in the eyes of the society he was a part of. What did Jack do to earn the branding? (if you don’t know this I suggest you look up the “people aren’t cargo mate” scene) He refused to transport slaves and later freed them, and Beckett had him marked as punishment.

Then, in the first movie, he saves Elizabeth, a woman he didn’t know, from drowning. Right after however, when Norrington sees he has a branded “P”, he’s like “alright, off to jail with you, and then hanging”, no other option crosses his mind. Again, Jack doesn’t know Elizabeth, isn’t indicated to think he is going to be rewarded for helping her, he just sees a drowning person, sees that no one else is going to help, and chooses to save them. That is a pretty selfless/good aligned thing to do, for no other reason that he was the one able to do it, yet the branding in his arm overrides any good action he could ever do, marking him as a criminal for execution and no further thought.

In a way, that’s what Mizora did to Wyll; she forever visibly branded him as someone that has made deals with devils, and that in the world of DnD is a VERY BAD THING. Personally I really like the mod that gives him more devilish features, but at the same time I think there was something clever about choosing to leave him looking more human. He can’t be confused with a tiefling, he doesn’t have the ears, the claws, the tail, all those features that characterize them. He looks kind of uncanny, and that would be like a red flag for anyone in that world. (Beyond the already existing hate for tieflings that I’m not gonna tackle on here because it’s a complicated thing that deserves its own post). And Wyll wants to do good, he wants to help people, to be a positive force in the world so, so badly. This dude got abducted by a nautiloid, got tadpole’d, and the first thing he did right after that was come across the Tiefling refugees and be like “Oh you need help? No worries let me teach you self defense. Oh you being attacked by goblins? Let me blast them real quick”. His way of saying fuck you to all the awful things that have happened to him is being aggressively good and kind. Mizora knows this very well, wants to see him suffer for her amusement, wants to remind him he can't escape her claws, so her choice of punishment was to forever taint his future interactions with mistrust and suspicion. Some people can go real fast from “oh thank God they saved me” to “oh no, are they gonna rob me, are they trying to trick me, are they in cahoots with the ones that attacked me first?” just because of outward appearances. Especially in DnD world. And that deserves its own conversation, but we're focusing on Wyll here.

(Mizora, when I catch you Mizora)

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t have made a deal in the first plac- - “ He was seventeen, alone, preyed upon by Mizora and put in an impossible situation. Please PAY ATTENTION to the story you’re witnesing.

Anyway.

About the tieflings. I know it’s easy to think his words can be derisive towards them, but it’s less about the horns and more about his body being changed against his will. Imagine instead that he got half his face burned, or something that disfigured him. I think his feelings at the moment were closer to that, and yeah they are pretty insensitive words to say to someone with a similar condition (horns or disfiguration), but when feelings are fresh and raw like that it’s easy to say insensitive things. Not saying it was ok for him to say them, but there was no malice in his words. I’ve also seen some people share that they think Mizora wanted to change him more to make him unrecognizable to his original self, the Wyll Ravenguard kid, and I think there is some truth to that too. She wants to make sure that Wyll remembers that he belongs to her, there's no question to that.

(MIZORA, WHEN I CATCH YOU MIZORA)

Whether the Tieflings refugees would feel unsettled by Wyll or not? Yes. In a way, they would. From reasons aside from the ones I explained above, remember that these specific tieflings come from Elturel. If you didn’t pass the History check or don’t remember, Elturel is a city that was literally ripped from the land and dragged to Avernus, First layer of hell (it left a hole on the ground and everything) because their mayor made a deal with the Archdevil Zariel some decades back in the timeline. He sold the souls of all its citizens and the city itself.

This was probably one of the worst times of their lives. Some even got captured and forced to participate in the blood War, like Dammon as a mechanic. And after Elturel got returned to the surface, the tieflings lost their homes because they reminded the other citizens of the literal Hell they’d just gone through, and they kicked them out. And remember, they met and saw Wyll as a human, and then saw him with horns. It’s not unreasonable to think that by looking at him they would be reminded of all the events that led them to the awful situation they’re in. Because of someone that was making deals with devils, just like Wyll. Even if his situation is completely different. And Wyll knows that, that’s why he tells you the tieflings are unsettled by him and chooses to stay away during the party.

It was never just about the horns.

And I know Wyll calls himself a devil but I think it’s because it’s the closest thing he looks as; devils are a whole different race with their own intricacies, although humans can be turned into devils ONCE their souls go to Avernus and they start climbing the power hierarchy there (Mizora and Raphael are cambions/ half-devils btw, which is a different thing, there are plenty of videos exploring those details more in depth).

Do I think Larian should have made some of this information clearer/easier to access? Maybe? but to be fair, it's a game focused and dedicated to a crowd that was already somewhat familiar with the source material, that blew up waay out of what they originally expected to reach. Hopefully they’ll add some clarifications like they did to other quests.

Anyway these are my two cents to the conversation, have a nice day, and don't hesitate to add your two cents if you feel like it!

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carolmunson · 2 years ago

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let's go, don't wait (e.m. x f!reader)

inspired by this prompt by @edsforehead - it's not exactly the same but i did my best! summary: modern!eddie's been single since 2020 and aside from getting his dick wet after weekend shows at the hideout, he hasn't been going out of his way for love until his friends make him. cw: 18+ for adult themes. alcohol use, swearing, some sexual themes. some discussions of bad parents. eddie had some sad parts of his childhood. all around this is a fluff piece so nothing too bad. (11k) eddie is 32, reader is 30. so older!reader i guess, idk. i already started writing the part two which is almost entirely smut.

Jingle. Click. Creak. “Mmmm.” Eddie knows that groan anywhere, the deep primal urging of a one Gareth Emerson and the giggles of his girlfriend, Tatianna Edwards. They stumble into the apartment, lips attached, hands grabbing and fisting each other’s layers from the cold.

“Hi guys,” he calls out, his tone was as bored and annoyed as he hoped it would be. His eyes don’t leave the TV, transfixed on the screen while he watches another YouTube compilation of the best guitar solos of all time. He disagrees with most of them, but it’s enough to drone on in the background while he scrolls through his Twitter feed. He’s never even posted. Not once. Not even a picture on his profile.

“Hi Ed,” Tati chirps, clicking the side table lights on. He can smell her Chloe perfume when she comes to give him a hug hello. Her arms wrap around him from behind the couch, cheeks touching, a few of her butterfly twists falling forward over his shoulder.

“Did you stay in tonight?” she asks, pressing a glossy smooch to his cheek. “Sure did,” he huffs, arms crossing over hers in a semblance of an embrace. Her gold bracelets are cool against his skin, her gold rings match his silver ones. He thought when Tati entered the picture that he and Gareth would’ve started to drift apart. Instead, Tati became Eddie’s new best friend – Gare really took ‘date the girl version of Eddie’ to heart. They were two peas in a pod. “You should’ve come out, there were a lot of single girls there – you’re a good dancer, you coulda snagged one,” she sounds like a mother trying to set him up. Eddie tilts his head up and looks at her from below, her deep skin shimmering with the glitter fallout from her eye makeup. She always looks pretty with ease, even with her makeup smudged – like she meant to do that.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he smiles tightly, but the look falls to something soft when Tati lets go and her almond shaped manicured nails rake gently over his scalp through his conditioned curls. “You can’t just keep picking up girls from shows, dude,” Gareth chides playfully, coming around the couch to sit next to him, “They’re starting to get waaaay too young for you at the bars.”

“Yeah, perv,” Tatianna teases, ruffling his hair before curling up on the recliner closer to the TV.

“Can we please not talk about this again,” Eddie sighs, sinking further into the cushions. He presses on his eyes with the heels of his hands, “You do this every time you guys come back from a date.”

“We gotta get you on Hinge, or something,” Gareth says.

“Tinder at the very least,” Tatianna follows.

“Okay, I’m going to bed,” Eddie grunts when he gets up, a little dizzy at the speed before he finds his footing, “Don’t be too loud tonight.”

“Just trying to help!” Tati calls out, “You deserve to be too loud at night, too!”

Eddie sucks his teeth before he turns the corner to the hallway, disappearing for the night while his friends fell more in love.

It feels like they’re disassembling a bomb. Eddie sulks in a seat at the kitchen table while Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Gareth chatter behind him. Jeff and his wife sit across from him with just as much excitement as the group opposite them. Eddie frowns, bangs too long over his eyes, hands sweating onto the back of his banged up stickered phone case.

“I think you should put the picture of the guitar last, it doesn’t have your face in it. I’d swipe past you,” Robin points at the screen in front of him while he tries to make sense of his Hinge profile.

“Well you’re a whole lesbian Rob, so you’d swipe past me anyway,” Eddie’s clipped words make the group laugh instead of making them back off. His shoulders sink immediately. This was mortifying.

“She’s right though,” Steve pipes up, “They’ll think you’re some weirdo who's obsessed with his guitar if you — well, actually then maybe it’s fine…”

“Why don’t you—” Jeff starts.

“You’re married and you’ve been with Alycia since 2014. Your opinions are void,” Eddie interrupts with a sigh.

Jeff lets out a laugh from his broad smile, “Look, I’m just saying. Why don’t you focus on your answers to the questions rather than the pictures? Girls love stuff like that. You’re smart, you’re a good writer.”

“Babe, they’re not gonna care about his answers if the first picture they see is of an out of focus guitar taken on an iPhone 4S,” Alycia cocks her head at Jeff, “Like, at least be honest with him.”

“I know you’re squinting in that picture from Jeff’s wedding but maybe you can put that one first,” Nancy points to the screen and then scrolls down a little. It lands on a photo of Jeff and Eddie, both sweating from the night's activities. His dress shirt is unbuttoned half way down his chest, silver chains and tattoos on full display, tie tied around Jeff’s forehead like a makeshift Rambo.

“Yeah, you look really good in it,” Robin agrees.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Tati shuffles into the kitchen, “I got in touch with the photographer from the show two weeks ago at Wraith Bar and he’s sending me some pictures.”

“You can use the six pictures you’re tagged in from the last three years,” Tatianna scolds, “You look like a bum in them.”

The group frowns and tosses glances at each other, it’s true. The more recent pictures they had of Eddie were far and few between. He was either blinking or off to the side, blurry or ducking out of frame. Every picture where he looks like himself was either from a show or had Chrissy in it, and he deleted all of those three years ago.

“Stop, you look so fine in these,” Tatianna squeals, “The girls are gonna love you.” Everyone but Eddie huddles around Tatianna to scroll through the pictures. Some of him mid shred with sweat pouring down his chest. Some of him screaming into the mic, hair wild and wet around his face. There was one, that he begrudgingly really liked, where his head leaned back into the light with a winning Munson smile. It was when he heard the opening drums to cover ‘The Immigrant Song’ as a gag – but not really a gag ‘cause he loves that song. It gets everyone at the bar pretty excited – even if they only know the song from School of Rock.

Eventually, Eddie isn’t even holding his phone, it’s being passed between Tati, Steve, and Robin while he dictates his answers to stupid questions. By the time his profile is finished, his head is hidden in his mass of curls, resting his forehead on his forearms at the table.

“Are we done now?” he asks into the space between his face and the woodgrain. Despite the winter air flowing through the kitchen window, he’s overheated with embarrassment. There are suddenly too many people around, too much talking, too much giggling at his expense. He tilts his head back up and takes a full breath through his nose and out through his mouth – “Oh shit! You matched with someone!” “How? I didn’t even look at anyone yet,” Eddie’s brows furrow while his head slowly comes to center. “Don’t worry about it, dingus,” Robin chides, “Just talk to her.” Eddie takes the phone and looks at her profile. Rachel, 27, Vet tech. She’s pretty, soft eyes, great smile. He swallows thickly before he goes to his ‘Matches’ and types three letters that felt like they took ten years to write: Hey.

The chats start fast and die faster, some flirty banter here and there before he’s too nervous or quickly bored. His heart squeezes every time he gets a notification, a buzz in his pocket, a reminder of a message. Some girls don’t want a relationship and that’s fine, that’s just not what he’s looking for. Some girls ask the big questions first and he can’t answer right away. Some girls just aren’t his type and he isn’t theirs either.

The first date he goes on ends with her excusing herself to the bathroom before they even get to order dinner. She doesn’t come back — he’s not even sure what he did. It started off fine, she was pretty with blonde hair and blue eyes. Fun and easy conversation, a voice that sounded like powder puffs and sugar scented perfume. If he blurred his vision a little, she could’ve been Chris. But she wasn’t Chris.

Maybe that’s why she left. Maybe she got the vibe that he was preoccupied with her looking like his ex.

Maybe it was because he said, ‘You remind me so much of my ex-wife,’ before they got to order dinner.

His second date wasn’t much better. He was proud of himself for not going for another Chrissy look alike, but it was clear that this new girl was on a hunt for a husband.

“So are you planning on getting the tattoos removed?” she had asked, pursing her red lips. He was surprised at how well her lipstick stayed on after eating a pasta dish. Whenever he wears makeup for a show, it smudges before the lights come up.

“Uh, no why?” he asked.

“Just y’know, thinking ahead — family photos and whatever,” she shrugged. His mouth had never run so dry in his life. The chicken alfredo turned in his stomach.

The third ended up being a quickie in the bar bathroom only for her to leave right after and unmatch him without as much as a ‘Thanks for a good night!’ He at least wanted to be a gentleman about it.

The fourth fizzled out and neither of them felt the connection.

The fifth felt weird because they had talked so much on the app that they didn’t have anything left to talk about when they went out for drinks.

A month had gone by and all he had to show for it was five bad dates and dozens of unanswered chats. Eddie was found sitting in his bed in the dark, only the light on his phone keeping him illuminated while he thumbs through Instagram. Another app that he has for no reason, he never posts, he never shares anything. He just scrolls.

He wonders if Chrissy’s on Hinge. Eddie’s stomach lurches at the thought of coming across her profile. All blonde and blue eyes, all sweet and spunky, all the right answers to her curated questions. Photos of her in the Maldives, in her friend’s weddings, of her in Chicago after she moved. His heart hammers, sweat collects on his bare chest, heating up the chain lying flat against it until it sticks. He quickly swipes out of Instagram to his home screen, a photo of Robin and Steve flipping him off from the stage after a Corroded Show during load out. He holds his thumb on the app until all the apps shake, thumb hovering over the ‘x’ on the corner to delete the Hinge for good.

What’s another three years of being single?

“Ed?” he hears Tati on the other side of the door, her soft knock following her voice, “I got Indian and I’m not gonna eat it all. Gare doesn’t want it, you want it?”

“Yeah, sure,” he hums. She opens the door and sighs at the darkness. He squints as the light pools in from the hallway and sees her lean her shoulder against the door frame.

“Are you in here sulking?” she asks, one brow raising.

“Yeah, Tat, I’m in here sulking,” he groans, laying flat on his mattress, “I like to sulk. Let me sulk.”

“Don’t sulk,” she puts on a pout and flicks his light on, leaving the containers of rice and chicken saag. He groans when the light stings his eyes, tossing a forearm over his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice falling into kindergarten teacher territory. She never realized her profession would come so handy living with two grown men, “Why’re you being such a baby in here?”

“I think I’m gonna delete the app,” he murmurs, still hiding under the protection of his tattooed arm. The pressure feels good on his face, releasing the tension starting to brew behind his eyes. He hadn’t eaten since his lunch period at work, the hunger was starting to catch up to him.

“Don’t delete it,” she shakes her head, crawling onto the end of his bed. She takes her twists out of her jumbo claw clip and readjusts to pull them all back away from her face. Tati eases his phone out of his hand and slides her glasses on, flinging his dead arm off his face to use his Face ID. He whines, face scrunching is disapproval.

“I told you to stop doing that,” Eddie complains, sitting up against his pillows before crawling out of bed to get the food waiting on his dresser, “Do you have any naan or…?”

“Do I look like a food bank, Munson? Damn,” she tilts her head and he raises his brows in a silent ‘Well, do you?’

She sighs deeply, “Yes, I have extra naan but you can only have it if you don’t delete the app and eat with us in the living room.”

“Those are two totally different asks, Tati,” Eddie huffs.

“I don’t make the rules,” she shrugs before starting to laugh, “Actually, I totally do.”

The phone buzzes in her hand and Tatianna’s grin only widens when she sees the notification, “You have a new like.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs, face laced with disappointment and frustration, “It’s gonna be another dud. Why bother if there’s no point? Like, this can’t actually be how people meet each other —“

Tatianna opens her mouth to protest but Eddie interrupts his own thought before she can speak, “You and Gareth are the anomaly.”

“What if the sixth time’s a charm? She looks really cute,” She smiles, teeth bright against her smile, cheekbones glistening where her moisturized skin hits the light.

He rolls his neck and sighs while Tatianna continues to encourage him, “Just try. You owe yourself that. Chrissy wouldn’t—.”

“Fuck Chrissy, Tat,” Eddie’s voice raises slightly, suddenly defensive. His chest burns at the sound of her name, heat rising up through his neck to his face, “I don’t really give a fuck what Chrissy would and wouldn’t want. ‘Cause if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have to be on these stupid fucking apps.”

“Whew, tell me how you really feel Ed,” she says while she stands up off the bed to walk towards him.

“Look, I get you’re still mad about how things went down with Chris. I know you’re still hurting, but you’re denying yourself a chance to start over — just shoot this girl a message. She seems cool,” Tati speaks so gently to him that he soothes instantly. She offers his phone, still open on the new profile — he’s hesitant at first but he takes it from her to look at the screen.

There you are. You are cute. Your profile is simple: your name, age thirty, your opening tagline ‘idk i’m just out here i guess’. He lets a puff of air out of his nose at the sentiment — ‘Same,’ he thinks.

“Fine,” he says finally, “I’ll look through her stuff and I’ll message her. Are you happy?”

“Thrilled,” she smiles, “So thrilled that I’ll even let you have the extra samosa.”

He follows her out of the room with his phone and food in hand, looking at her fondly when she passes him a tinfoil covered piece of naan in the kitchen, “You’re my best fucking friend, dude.”

“I thought I was your best friend?” Gareth pouts from the kitchen table, D&D notes littered in front of him.

Eddie scrunches his nose, tilting his head while he considers, “You’re alright I guess.”

When the food is done and he’s gotten a proper look at your profile he decides to bite the bullet — fingers shaking while he matches back with you. He doesn’t start with ‘hey’ this time because Robin and Steve said that was boring, so he tries something new:

wild that you’re just ‘out here’, me too.

…

lol, twin behavior. how’s your night?

Eddie’s heart hammers at the response. He’s surprised at the reaction, he hadn’t had that with any of his other chats, normally expecting them to die off after the first ‘Hey, how are you?’ pleasantry. But maybe this could be different, maybe this could be fun.

scored some indian food from one of my roommates so it’s one of my better nights.

ooh, i’m so jealous. i have buyers remorse from some baked ziti i ordered. should’ve just made it.

what did you get?

chicken saag, still jealous?

i’m more of a saag paneer girl but consider me over here seething.

Eddie grins into the phone, cheeks hot while he thinks about what to say back. He skims over your profile again, eyes stilling at a photo of you laughing on what looks like a cruise deck. The sun hits you like a golden streak across your eyes. The caption reads ‘the last time i felt a single shred of genuine happiness’, he huffs an airy giggle before going back to the chat.

you’re funny, did you know that?

um ya, i’m the funniest person i know, actually. 🥰

that's crazy cause i’m the funniest person i know. and since now i know you, it’s looking like we gotta battle for who the funniest is.

Jesus fucking Christ Munson, why can’t you just be normal? Why can you just say ‘lol’ and call it a night? He frets. His leg bounces while he waits for your reply, food rolling in his stomach. The cool metal of his rings is welcomed on his warm cheeks while he leans against his hand on the arm of the couch. The few minutes he waits for the buzz of his phone feel like eternities. But there you are to save him from his embarrassment:

lmao okay. where did you wanna battle?

there’s a bar in the city that i think could host. you around tomornight?

tommorow night* sorry, fuck, i was trying so hard to be smooth with it.

TOMORROW***** FUCK. LET ME LOG OFF FOR ETERNITY REAL QUICK.

yiiiiikes! embarrassing. but this proves you actually might be funnier than me. i’m not a sore loser so i’ll go on a date with you if that’s what you’re asking.

do you drink? it doesn’t have to be a bar.

i do! where did you have in mind?

there’s a spot called little spoon saloon in the city if you’re familiar. sorta cozy.

oh yeah sounds great for a battle 🙄

but yeah i know it, that’s not too far from my place. maybe we’ve seen each other before and never known it. two ships passing in the night~*

does seven work for you? i know it’s a monday, so we can do earlier if you gotta be up early or something.

sevens fine :)

okay :)

see ya tomorrow! Eddie bites his lower lip, breathing steadily through his nose while he sends over his number. Anything to get out of looking at the app for at least another day, anything to spare him from potentially running into Chrissy’s profile despite her being in a different state. It was getting close to the holidays, she could be around at any moment.

Before he can spiral, his phone buzzes again – this time a text from an unknown number. His grin widens, too caught up in the excitement bubbling in his chest to feel Tatianna’s stare from the recliner. hi, it's me. jsyk if you don't reach out by like, two tomorrow -- i'm considering it a cancellation and i do have a 50% cancellation fee. sorry!

50%? stop selling yourself so short, kid. but don’t worry, i won’t cancel. no? you’re not scared to battle? i’m never scared of a battle. :) (A lie.) see you tomorrow.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Tatianna smiles, cheeks tight from being unable to hide her excitement. “Are you talking to a girrrrrl?” Gareth teases. Eddie let’s out a ‘tssss’ while he stands up and stretches, quirking a brow at his best friend. “Is it a girl? You takin’ her out?” he asks again. “Yeah G, it’s your mom,” he shrugs, “Night y’all.” “Ed,” Tati whines, “Come on.” Pink floats across his cheeks, itching his nose to hide his goofy smile behind his hand. “Yeah, it’s a girl. And yeah, I’m taking her on a date tomorrow,” he groans. Tatianna squeals, shimmying with giddiness while the recliner rocks with her. Eddie’s too caught up in hiding his face, “Ugh, she’s cuuuute, Tati, what am I supposed to do?”

“Show her what she’s been missing,” Tati shrugs, “Everyone needs an Eddie.”

Last night, Eddie fell asleep caught in a memory that became a dream. He’s eight years old at the YMCA, Wayne sitting in the stands watching him – this is maybe two weeks after his dad dropped him off before he got sent to prison. Wayne wanted to make sure his schedule stayed the same as it could, so Saturday swim lessons it was – today was diving off the block. Eddie had been dreading this lesson for a month, knowing that level 2.5 meant you had to at least try. In level two, they had you stand on the block just to get used to it. He could barely breathe for the ten seconds it was up there, tears stinging his eyes while his teacher encouraged him to come closer to the edge. Three of his classmates had already asked if they were allowed to jump off. It looked fun but it was just so high up. What if it hurts? What if he landed the wrong way? He was up soon, standing behind the block with the rest of the kids, shivering from being out of the water. He could dive off the edge of the pool just fine – in fact, his teacher said he was a great diver, especially for an eight year old. So it should be no problem to dive off the block, he just had to do the same thing he always does. Just higher.

Gareth, before Gareth was his best friend, climbs up the block and puts his feet at the edge of the white plastic and metal. His teacher, Miss Tiffany, tells him to put his arms up and bend his knees and to dive at the whistle. The whistle blows and Gareth leaps – but he doesn’t dive smoothly into the water.

“BELLY FLOP!” Jason Carver yells from the edge of the pool where all the kids who already dove sat. They start teasing him relentlessly, Miss Tiffany helping him out of the water to inspect his red belly. Tears well up in Gareth’s eyes, his mom leaning over the bannister from the seating area. “Are you okay, baby?” she asks. Gareth burns red with embarrassment, only encouraging the cackling kids to get crueler.

Miss Tiffany puffs her whistle three times, “If you tease again, you’re not allowed to go to free swim. Do you understand me?”

The group quiets, slowly kicking their feet in the water. “Alright Eddie, you’re up next!”

He gulps, climbing up on the block slowly before standing to full height with his eyes closed. He takes a deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, like his Uncle Wayne taught him to do when he was feeling nervous. When Eddie’s eyes opened, a chill ran through his chest – for some reason the block seemed higher than ever.

“Ready Freddie?” Miss Tiffany asked, treading water in her red bathing suit. She grinned up at him, knowing that the phrase always made him giggle – but not today.

“Arms up, knees bent,” she continues. Ed looks down at the water and the room spins, he can hear Jason and the class giggling. Hear the splashes from the kicks of their feet.

The whistle blows. He doesn’t move. The whistle blows, again. He puts his arms down. “You okay, Eddie? You can do it! You’re a great diver!” she cheers.

Eddie chews on his lower lip, thinking about the smack of the water when it hit Gareth’s stomach. The laughter. The teasing. The potential of the pain. The whistle blows again. Eddie climbs down off the block, sniffling when he makes it back to the pool deck, “I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.”

“C’mon Ed, I know you can do it! Do you want me to save you for last?” she asks, her smile still bright and encouraging. Eddie sniffles again, eyes burning with tears while Jason and his friends start to tease him, too. “Swimming sucks,” he bites, stomping towards the boys room, grabbing his ratty towel off one of the benches on the way in. He’s only in the locker room for a few minutes before he hears the door open and Wayne’s apologetic voice talking to Miss Tiffany from the deck floor.

“He’s just goin’ through a lot right now,” Wayne says, his gruff voice rattling off the metal of the room.

“Eddie?” Tiffany’s voice calls.

“Come out here, son,” Wayne calls, “Y’know, if your decent.”

Eddie sniffles back his tears again, shuffling over to the door while Miss Tiffany waits with his Uncle.

“Do you maybe wanna stay a little late today and we can practice diving off the block when class is over?” she offers, “I know it can be scary to do it in front of your classmates, but I want you to pass to level three!”

“No thanks Miss Tiffany,” he mumbles to the tiles on the floor.

“That’s okay Eddie, maybe we can try again next week. How’s that sound? I know you can do it,” she says softly.

“Okay,” he murmurs before turning on his heel and moping back into the locker room. Wayne was waiting by the check in desk when Eddie emerged after changing, his ratty towel slung off his shoulder.

“You okay?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah, can we just go home?”

“Sure kid, was gonna stop and get us some lunch if you wanted,” Wayne’s eyes crinkle with his smile, “Wanna go to McDonalds?”

Eddie returns the smile half heartedly, “Yeah.”

They walk to Wayne’s pick-up hand in hand, despite some parents thinking he’s ‘too old’ to be doing that. He needed the support, and his uncle was never one to make him feel like he didn’t have it.

“So d’you wanna try again next week? Your starting form was great, buddy,” Wayne asks while Eddie puts his seatbelt on. Eddie considers it. Getting to the edge of the block and making Jason Carver eat his own words. Making him look like a loser for a change.

But the words ring in his ear ‘BELLY FLOP!’ The relentless teasing if he didn’t do it this week and then messed up next week. He’d be a baby and a joke.

“I don’t wanna do swimming anymore, Uncle Wayne,” he huffs.

“You sure?” his uncle frowns, putting the car into gear, “You’re really good, Ed. Y’could be on the swim team.”

“I don’t wanna come back. I quit,” he repeats. He crosses his arms while they pull out of the parking lot, watching the rest of the kids pool out of the doors with smiles on.

Eddie wakes up to his alarm blaring, back in his 32 year old body. He swears that the air of his bedroom smells like chlorine.

Eddie made sure to text you at 1:59 PM like an asshole.

still on for tonight? :)

so close to having to pay my cancellation fee.

but yes, still on for tonight :)

sorry, work’s been wild today. would’ve texted you sooner!

you’re off the hook…

for now. 😡

He likes your little attitude, he decides. That little hint of sass in your messages keeps him on his toes and it’s not lost on him that this is probably how you flirt. He wonders, selfishly, how easy you are to fluster. You both exchange a few back and forths before he’s finishing up work for the day and heading to Wheeler’s for a campaign chat.

The texts completely drop off while he gets ready to see you. He takes an extra long time in the shower, using the tiniest squeeze of Tati’s curl cream when he comes out because it makes his hair look good. He scrubs his face raw before shaving, following up with the skin care routine he kept up with, even though Chrissy curated it for him.

Once dressed, he stepped quietly out to the living room to grab his jacket in the closet and pull out his boots.

“You used my curl cream, I see,” Tatianna crosses her arms. He blushes.

“Don’t be mad, I just wanna look good,” he puts on a faux pout, eyes rounding while he slides the leather over arms.

“You look really good,” she smiles, “It’s gonna be great.”

Eddie shoves his socked feet in his Docs, worn in from years of wear, and looks up at her, “I’m kind of excited.”

“You should be! I don’t know, I just have a really good feeling about this one,” she smirks, “Text me at some point, let me know how it goes.”

“It’s a better indicator if he doesn’t text you, Tati,” Gareth says, coming up behind her, “You look sharp, dude.”

“Sharp?” Eddie rolls his eyes, “What’re you? Eighty?”

Tatianna clicks on her phone to look at the time, “Can you get the fuck outta here? You’re gonna be late!”

“I’m going, I’m going!” he laughs, arms up while he grabs his keys from the hook by the door, “Wish me luck, bye!”

Eddie felt sick. Suddenly feeling like he was standing at the edge of the pool in ‘98.

When he got his keys in the ignition of his Honda Civic, a text came through immediately. He swallowed tightly, in some way expecting it to be you. In some way, expecting you to be canceling on him.

Instead, it was Tatianna in the big group chat:

here, we made a playlist for you

Eddie clicks on the Spotify link and laughs. First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182

First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182 First Date - Blink 182

And so on. The music automatically connects, the opening guitar ripping through his speakers. Eddie quickly types up a response on his phone before pulling out into the street.

very creative, edwards.

someone in this house has to be. ‘In the car, I just can't wait, to pick you up on our very first date. Is it cool if I hold your hand? Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?’ He rolls his eyes as Mark and Tom serenade him in the car, laughing at the lyrics. It’d been a while since he’d listened to this album, let alone this song. While he won’t admit it to Gareth or his girlfriend, it was exactly what he needed before he got to the bar.

‘Do you like my stupid hair? Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear? I'm just scared of what you think, you make me nervous so I really can't eat.’ “Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over,” he sings along, fingers tapping on his steering wheel while he waits at a red light. He’s on the fourth replay of the song by the time he pulls up. The ignition cuts off the lyrics before the chorus, he takes a big breath before opening the door. Just a couple minutes past seven, but he told you he was running a little late, so you wouldn’t be mad. His phone buzzes to Robin, Steve, and Jeff reacting to the playlist Tati sent. Alicia, Jeff, and Nancy sent him sweet good luck messages. Robin and Steve sent them a picture from a bar they were at, flipping him off. ‘Break a leg, dingus,’ came in her follow up voice memo. Eddie considers making this new picture his phone background.

He swallows hard when he gets to the door, his bottom lip getting pulled between his teeth in apprehension. He nods to himself, “You got this, Munson.” Another deep breath, he’s still ten, he’s still afraid to dive off the diving block. What if it hurts? What if he belly flops?

‘What if you don’t? What if you dive this time?’ He thinks to himself. He opens the door to the bar, his ten year old self puts one foot on the diving block. The chatter of a few conversations at once is disorienting, so is the low light of the bar in comparison to the neon outside. The man at the entrance asks for his ID and he awkwardly fumbles for his wallet as if it’s not obvious he’s been old enough to drink for eleven years. “Here, man,” he says, somehow nervous he’ll get caught with a fake like he’s nineteen again. The security’s light flashes over his birthdate and he passes it back with a short and gruff thank you. Eddie takes a few steps before checking his phone to remind him what you said you’d be wearing.

in a red cut off sweatshirt, jeans that look like dickies – hard to miss! white airforces! i’m here, looking for you if you can’t spot me just approach the most off putting girl at the bar, it’s probably me :)

He smiles into the light of his phone. You’re are funny. His phone lights up again, another text bubble added to your previous one. Eddie’s heart hammers in his chest when he looks at it, knowing you’re really only moments away. got you a guinness cause that’s what you said you liked on your profile. it looks like battery acid tbh. there’s a couple seats by the end of the bar, i’ll grab them. He looks up from his phone finally to see a blur of red start maneuvering over to the end of the bar. That’s you. Oh shit, that’s you. Oh shit, you’re – fuck. You have a fat fucking ass in those jeans. He swallows again, shaking the horny thoughts out of his head through the tendrils of his hair. Another deep breath through the nose, out of the water to the diving block just to dive again. He walks the length of the bar and hears his name, your voice in real life – not through a voice note or on your profile. “Ed?”

Eddie catches your eye and his heart sinks and leaps so quickly he thinks he’s going into cardiac arrest. You’re real pretty, even more so when you grin at him from a few feet away. You wave him over and he does his best to walk confidently towards you, taking his jacket off while he does. He doesn’t know it, but the other girls at the bar are looking. He’s all broad shoulders and dark tattoos, two silver chains and understated rings. Full lips and doe eyes. Tatianna never told a lie, he was unmistakably handsome – he just didn’t know what to do with it. You toss your hair when you speak to the bartender from the end of the bar with a bright smile. The man puts two drinks in front of you and you leave cash in their wake. Eddie winces when he sees you pay, but tries to ignore the sting. In a way, it feels like he’s already losing – like he’s playing Sims with Robin and he’s not on track to get a gold reward on date night. You’re hot and you know it, but he can tell it’s like you just found out. Your eyes are flirty no matter what you’re looking at, you’re full bodied and it’s like you know it’s making him salivate. Eddie can’t help but be nervous when he takes a seat next to you, fingers immediately drumming on the bar top in front of him. “Guinness for you,” you say, sliding the pint glass in front of him. “Thanks,” he smiles, “You didn’t have to do that. I asked you out, you’re not supposed to be paying for me.”

“I know, but – why don’t you get the next one and we’ll call it even?” you offer. He nods while he takes a sip, eyeing the lighter orangey liquid in your glass. “Did you get a cider?” he teases.

“It’s a grapefruit beer, thank you,” your brows furrow at him while you take a sip. You have a good face, part of him wants to say that but it seems like a weird compliment. ‘Nice face.’ Like, what does that even mean? His tongue feels heavy, he can feel the sweat building under his curly bangs. “Weaksauce,” he laughs, scrunching his nose, “Grapefruit beer? Not for me, toots.”

“Yeah, because you drink battery acid!” you tease back, “You’re a stout snob, huh?”

“Nah, just never heard of grapefruit beer. I always drink Guinness – or like, Miller light. Never really stray,” he shrugs.

“You wanna try mine?” you ask, sliding the glass to him.

“You sure?” he watches you nod and brings the beer to his lips. It’s tart, a little bubbly, hitting his tongue on the off beat from the stout before. It settles and then it’s sweet, he wonders if you’re the same. Eddie smacks his lips, “I don’t hate it.”

“That’s such a stout snob thing for you to say,” you pull a face, bringing your drink back to sit in front of you. “I’d offer you a sip of mine but I know you don’t like it,” he smiles, “Wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of your dessert beer.” “Fuck off,” you shake your head and smile, taking another sip of your drink. The Guinness in his hand makes him feel less nervous, but not all the way – toeing the line of the end of the diving block but not scared to look down into the water. He can tell you’re nervous too by the way you pick at a hangnail on your thumb absentmindedly, the way you cross and uncross your legs. Eddie’s eyes linger for a moment at the way they spill over each other, squishing flat on the seat of the stool when you keep them uncrossed. He tries to discreetly follow the line of your thighs to your hips, up to your waist before getting ahead of himself and pulling his eyes away.

“How was your day?” you ask. Not the question he was expecting. “My day?” he asks, brows raised while he tries to recollect anything before getting ready to see you. “Uh, my day was good. Yours?” You fucking dumbass, you couldn’t just spare one detail? She’s gonna think you’re an asshole. “It was fine,” you answer quietly. Your smile fades a little and he feels a panicked chill rush in his chest. “S-sorry, I should’ve elaborated. I sound like such a dick, sorry,” Eddie feels the heat creeping up on his cheeks, a clamminess starting up at his hairline, “I um, I went to work. Came home, went to a friend’s house for a minute and we talked about a campaign we’re putting together next weekend. I had some dinner, and then I started getting ready to see you and um – uh, now I’m here.” “Campaign? Are you a politician or somethin’?” you quirk a brow while you look him over. He feels insecure under your gaze, he hopes you like his tattoos.

“No, no, it’s for Dungeons and Dragons.” Saying it outloud makes him feel like a loser, even though you don’t react like you think so.

“Cool,” you smile.

“Do you like, even know what that is?” Defensive already, waiting for you to make fun of him. Waiting for this to end up another mistake. Waiting to belly flop.

“Yeah, I know what it is,” you answer quietly again, this time your shoulders, “Have some friends that play.”

“Oh, cool. Cool,” Eddie nods, chest tightening, toying with his rings while you reach for your drink, “Um, I’m — yeah, sorry if that came off like, dickish. I didn’t mean to—.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you shake your head when you say it, almost like it’s rehearsed. Like you’re always ‘okay’-ing something.

“Sometimes people think it’s weird when I tell them, I dunno,” he shrugs, still looking down at his rings, “If I’m being honest I haven’t been so great at this whole dating thing.”

You smile again and he looks up in time to see it, his breath hitches. You’re very pretty.

“If it makes you feel any better, I learned how to play Magic the Gathering twice to impress a boy. Two different ones,” you grimace, scrunching your nose, “Gross right?”

“Oof, that’s rough,” he jokes, “Magic the Gathering? That’s like, way worse than D&D.”

“Well the difference between you and me, is that I don’t still play,” you bite back, cocking your head while you take another drink. “Didn’t impress those boys after all, huh?” he raises a brow and your mouth falls open in faux offense.

“You’re so mean,” you gasp.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he drawls, “Should’ve put that in my profile.”

“Oh, so you are mean?” you grin.

“The meanest,” he grins back, teeth straight and shiny. Full lips pulled tight against them, “How was your day?” “I worked,” you shrug, “Not as exciting.”

“What do you do?” he asks, turning towards you on the stool, leaning one arm on the bar. He relaxes into the seat, legs spreading wide while his free hand runs nervously over his thigh.

“I’m a personal assistant to a jewelry maker,” you let out a half chuckle through your nose, “It sounds fake when I say it out loud. But basically, I just keep her schedule and run errands and keep her shit in order. She’s an older woman and she’s not the most tech savvy in the world — great at what she does though, really eccentric but I feel like you gotta be when you work in the arts like that.”

“That’s cool,” he says softly, watching you talk, “What kind of jewelry does she make?”

“Oh you’ll love this, since you like D&D and stuff,” you start, your excitement is infectious, his heart thrums, “She makes fine jewelry for the most part, but also makes anodized chain mail jewelry and wearable pieces for theater and ren fairs on the side. I told you, eccentric.”

“Oh, so she’s a little alchemist, huh?” he smirks.

“Kinda, yeah,” you shrug, heat hitting your cheeks while he keeps his gaze on you, “It’s cool to watch the first few times, and then you get bored.”

“I’m sure it’s the same for people who watch my band,” he laughs. You shake your head, a curve pulling from the corners of your lips while you finish your beer.

“Alchemist,” you repeat with a playful roll of your eyes, “You’re such a nerd.”

“What do you do for work?” he notices you fully turn when you ask, your knees toward him. He remembers Steve telling him once that it was always a good sign when they do that. Like Steve knows anything about body language and dating these days, he’s been platonically attached to Robin for years. His little guard dog.

“I’m a teacher,” he replies, knocking back the remainder of the Guinness in his glass.

“Hm,” you hum, looking him over suspiciously, “That’s surprising.”

“I work at a performing arts school,” he rolls his eyes, “It’s 2023, I’m allowed to have tattoos.” “What do you teach?” you squint when you look him over a second time, “Actually, let me guess – drama?”

“Music theory,” he corrects.

“Ooh, big brain,” you joke, “That’s cool.”

“Big brain? I don’t know about that, I just like music,” he shrugs, “It makes sense to me.” “When I was in high school everyone always talked about how hard music theory was – like, all the band kids,” you explain, there’s a sparkle starting to glint in your eye when you talk to him. “You were hanging out with the band kids?” he tosses a sarcastic knowing look before taking his glass in his hands, “And I’m a nerd? I dunno girl, it’s not looking good for you here...” “Even worse, I was dating one,” you grimace back. “Fuuuuck, you were really fighting for your life in 2009 huh?” Eddie laughs low, lower lip tucking in between his teeth to run his tongue over it.

“2007, 2008 all the way to like, 2016,” you hide your face in one hand and he wishes you wouldn’t.

“Damn, that’s a long time,” he observes, “You didn’t marry that guy?”

You lift your head back up, and shake your head, “It was on and off for a long time, he’s not a fan favorite. It’s uh – it’s why I normally don’t date musicians. I almost didn’t match with you ‘cause of your first picture.”

Fucking Tatianna.

“Eek, sorry,” Eddie puts his hands up, “Should I go?” “Do you play bass?” you wince.

“I play a lot of instruments,” he chuckles, “I can play the bass. But I’m not like…a bass player, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” you breathe out a sigh of relief, “Made that mistake more than once.” “What’s your favorite instrument that you play?” you ask, it’s almost girlish. He ponders it while you cross your legs, the toe of your shoe barely brushing the back of his calf but he knows it's there. You rest your chin on your fist while you watch him think about it. His brown eyes glint in the reflection of the light overhead, plush lips parted while he runs his hands over his stubble. “I think I’d have to say…electric guitar? I’ve been playing that the longest,” he hopes you think that’s cool. “Is it the same one that’s in your pictures?”

“The Warlock?” he asks with a grin, “Yeah, that’s my girl. Best relationship of my life, prob’ly the only lady who talks more than me.”

“It’s really nice. I like the color.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes darting to your knees where they sit between his, “Um, can I get you another drink? Do you want a beer or…?”

“If I get a real drink will you stop making fun of my beer?”

“I promise.” He slides off the stool, sad to see your close proximity to him fade away when he stands up.

“They have food here, right? I’m sort of hungry, if that’s okay,” your voice gets sheepish when you ask.

“Yeah, that’s okay. Did you eat dinner?” The words fall out of him too fondly.

“I had like, a huge spinach salad,” you explain, “Might not have been enough.”

Something tells him to press further before he buys you more liquor, lest this date go to the wayside too quickly, “Did you eat lunch?”

“I worked through lunch.”

“Did you eat breakfast?”

“I had a smoothie,” you confess.

“Okay, so before I get you a drink, why don’t I get you some chicken fingers or something?” he insists. You’re shy in your smile back to him, nodding along at his advice. Yes, you should eat more before you keep drinking with him. He doesn’t want you to think he’s just trying to get you tipsy, he’s never been that kind of guy – even when he’d bring home girls from the bar. (They’d at least be the same level of totally obliterated as he was.)

He beams back at you when you nod, “Atta girl.”

He doesn’t notice when your thighs clench.

The last chicken finger is eaten, the last fry of the basket he got for you to split crunched through. The conversation had lulled, not because you weren’t interesting – the nerves were getting to him, creeping up like vines along his chest. The look over the diving block at the water, it’s slow waves teasing him to jump.

“So um,” you began, swallowing your final fry and wiping your hands on a napkin, “Since you’re a teacher, how was school today?”

Eddie’s so used to this question that his response doesn’t change, always the same quote from the same movie. Forgetting he doesn’t know you like that, his mouth moves quicker than his desire to play things off cool.

“The worst day of my life, what do you think? Gosh!” Eddie sounds more like John Heder in 2004 than John Heder does now – but when he hears himself say it, he’s immediately embarrassed. Eddie opens his mouth to apologize, nervous you won’t understand but instead – you laugh. And what a sound that is for him to hear.

“Oh, shit. I haven’t watched Napoleon Dynamite in years. Like, not since grade school.” Eddie laughs with you, “Sorry, sorry, that’s like my go-to reaction at home when my roommates ask me that. I should’ve said something more normal like, ‘It was fine. The kids can’t stop trying to take TikTok fancams of me.”

“Roommates? Fancams? You’re so hip, tell me more,” you enthuse. He puts a finger up to stop you at first, locking eyes with the bartender so he can finally order another round of drinks.

“What kind of real drink do you want?” he asks.

“Just a marg on the rocks, salt,” you shrug.

“Psh, I said a real drink,” Eddie teases with a roll of the eyes, but they soften when you go to argue back, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

His toes inch towards the middle of the diving block.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he flirts. Eddie can see the heat hit your cheeks, the creep of a smile slowly curving upwards, you’re embarrassed. Nervous like he is. Maybe this is going just fine.

When the drinks arrive he slides the margarita towards you and sips his own Jack and Coke slowly through the tiny bar straw.

“Okay, so. I have two roommates. Gareth, who’s been my best friend since I was nine; and Tatianna who has been my best friend since I was twenty-nine,” he explains.

“So why aren’t you dating Tatianna?” you challenge. You miss the straw when you reach for it with your mouth, it slides over to the other side of the cup. You try again and miss, cheeks burning while Eddie looks at you continue to fuck up. His eyes glint mischievously while you hold in your frustrated laughter, “Stop looking at me.”

“It’s fine, I’ll wait while you get your life figured out over there,” he jokes, checking ‘the time’ on his wrist, “Shouldn’t be too long until you finally get it.”

“You’re so annoying,” you grit out playfully while you capture the straw between your teeth, “Should’ve put that on your profile, too.”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not dating Tatianna because Gare’s going to propose to her when they go on vacation in a few weeks.”

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense,” you nod, “Probably not a good idea to date your best friend’s almost wife.”

“Yeah, definitely not well advised,” he shakes his head, pulling his hair up off of his neck for a minute before dropping it down, “Plus, her last name is Edwards and I dunno…don’t think I could live with myself if I was ‘Eddie Edwards’.”

You laugh again and he hoped you would. It’s a goofy laugh, you don’t try to sound cute when you do it. He knows you must be a loud laugher, if your small ones are any preview to what you could really do. You don’t sound like Chrissy. Her laugh was dainty, feathery. Like how they teach you to giggle in an etiquette class – all soft edges, all smooth lines.

“You wanna take the girl’s last name?” you raise your brows, “Very forward thinking. Progressive.”

“I don’t know, something about it’s kinda hot right?” he asks cock of his head, “Plus, my dad sucks so I don’t want to keep repping him by having his last name.”

“Oh wow, my dad sucks, too,” you reply cheerily, “We have so much in common!”

“What was it you said before? ‘Twin behavior’?”

“Twin behavior, yes!” your hands meet both of his knees where he sits across from you, your tone is light and earnest, “You get me.”

Eddie takes in a hitch of breath, desperate to keep his cool when he feels your hands on him. It’s not even sexy but he could shoot straight to the moon if you asked him to. You use his knees as leverage to hop down from your stool, grabbing your drink before nudging him with your hip.

“If we’re still battling though, there’s an air hockey table in the back room if you wanna play,” you offer.

“Are you any good?” he wonders, hopping off the stool to follow you to the back.

“I’m amazing,” you grin, “Actually won seventeen first place trophies in the intergalactic air hockey competition – of course I’m fucking bad at it, that’s why it’s fun to play.”

Eddie laughs this time, it’s gruff and nicotine soaked. You’re already winning the battle for funniest person – you’re sharp with him and he’s starting to like it. He runs his hand over the side of the air hockey table in the empty back room, more and more pleased that he put this date together on a Monday. He slides a dollar into the machine so it whirs to life, the neon lights flicking on with a stutter.

“This reminds me of birthday parties when I was a kid,” you muse to yourself, reaching for the hockey disc trapped in your goal, “Can you help me?”

He nods, hand grazing your back to get you out of the way – you’re warm to the touch. If he was a braver man he would’ve pulled you into him but he’s not, instead squatting down to reach further into the goal where your game piece was.

“Hm,” he murmurs, reaching further back and barely touching the top of it, “It’s in here, it’s just back there. I can get it, just –” he sucks his teeth like he did the night before, getting to his knees to try. Music plays over head, stuff the new crop of bar goers would consider oldies. You smile at the opening ‘Damn, shawty snappin’...’ of T-Pain’s ‘Buy U A Drank’, but even more surprised when you hear Eddie sing along softly to himself.

“Snap ya fingers, do yuh step, you can do it all by yourself. Babygirl, what’s your name?” “Not you knowing the lyrics,” you laugh.

“I was in highschool in 2007 of course, I know the lyrics,” he huffs, standing up, “I think it’s a bust for air hockey.”

“That’s fine,” you shrug, “We tried.”

“I know the club, close at three,” he lip syncs to himself before, turning his attention to you, “What’s the chances of you rollin’ with me?”

You back and forth to each other in time with the lyrics before settling back down in your spot at bar.

“You even know the Yung Joc part? Damn,” you laugh again, he loves it.

“Why’re you so surprised? Is it the tattoos?” he asks.

“Well yeah, you definitely give off a ‘loved Avenged Sevenfold’ in high school vibe,” you scooch your stool closer to his, your knees slotting between his open ones like a perfect puzzle. It’s not enough though, and he’s not sure if it’s himself or the Jack and Coke that encourages him, but he reaches for one of the legs of your stool to pull you closer.

“Hey,” he says, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Hey,” you respond. You catch his eyes flick briefly to your lips before they meet yours again. You can see the light smatter of freckles over his nose, long faded from the summer.

“You’re right, I was really into Avenged Sevenfold when I was in highschool.”

“I figured. I was into that whole scene thing, back then. All those singers that are mad at their dad’s and like, in retrospect, all hate women I guess,” you realize it as you speak.

“I probably would’ve thought you were cute,” he guesses.

“No, you would’ve called me a poser,” you correct, “Don’t lie.”

He hesitates before nodding, “No, no, you’re right I definitely would’ve called you a poser. Did you like Fall Out Boy and all of that shit?”

“Don’t shit on the music I liked,” you frown, “That’s not cool.”

“I’m not, I’m not,” he assures, pulse speeding, “I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry.” You continue talking about music, high school, college, some ins and outs. Nothing too serious. Nothing too intense. But by now, Eddie’s feeling nice and if one thing’s for certain:

He wants to fucking kiss you. Toes at the edge of the diving block, Miss Tiffany’s whistle caught between her teeth.

“So now that we’re three drinks in, can I ask you a personal question?” you ask, your eyes a little glassy. You’ve confessed that you’re tipsy, but aware, that if you have one more drink you won’t be – so Eddie already paid the tab.

“What do you wanna know?” he asks.

“Why’re you,” you enunciate, implying he’s something, “On the apps? It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be single. Unless you have like, something deeply wrong with you, but you’ve been all green flags so far.”

Your hand falls back to his knee and he eyes it before sliding his own hand down his thigh to lace your fingers with his.

“You want the real story?” he asks, lifting your hand up of his knee to play with your fingers in both of his hands while he talks. His hands are warm and calloused on the fingertips, but the rest are soft. Lacing and unlacing, running his thumb up the lengths of your fingers, tracing your palm.

“The real story.”

“You gonna tell me why you’re on the apps after?”

“Sure,” you nod. You look gentle, at ease. He eases in, too.

“I got divorced in 2020,” he confesses. It feels like a weight off his chest to tell you, “Married my high school sweetheart, things were great for a long time, but y’know. People grow and – the pandemic was not kind to us.”

“Oh, I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” you offer softly.

“It’s okay,” he smiles tightly. “I guess I was both surprised and not surprised at all when she broke up with me. Almost relieved, I guess – that I didn’t have to play the part of her husband anymore. Not that she was a bad wife or anything, she was great she just – I don’t know,” he rambles, “And I don’t know, I just threw myself into work and my friends after. Girls after shows. Was too scared to like – go on dates incase it ended up like my marriage and –”

He laughs, “My friends were tired of seeing me be so sad, I guess.”

“You have such a solid support system,” you comment, “You mention your friends, like, every other sentence.”

A beat. “I like that,” you nod and smile. He can’t get over how you look when you do that.

“Why’re you on the apps?” he asks, your hand now cradled between the two of his, his fingers grazing your wrist.

“I’m six months out of a six year long relationship,” you let out a breath through your nose and drop your shoulders a little, “Figured it was time to get back out there – enter my slut era.”

“Oh yeah, you’re super slutty,” he teases, “That’s actually the first thing I thought when I saw you. ‘She’s in her slut era.’” “God, fuck offfff,” you giggle again.

“But yeah, I ended it. I figure I should make that clear,” you say, “Just in case that’s like, a red flag for you. But I don’t know, we just weren’t growing in the same directions. Things felt done way before I left and I – I don’t know. I think I was just scared. I took some time for myself and now, here I am.”

“It’s okay that you ended your relationship, it’s not a red flag,” Eddie’s voice soothes you when he says it, “If you told me you like, cheated on him and then hit him with your car then maybe yeah, I’d be a little concerned. But you’re an adult, you just know what you want better this time around.”

“Yeah,” you agree. Your eyes meet in a silent confirmation. His eyes flick to your lips for a second time before tucking his lower lip between his teeth again.

BELLY FLOP!

“You wanna head out? It’s getting a little late,” he offers.

Your brows raise in surprise, “Uh, sure, yeah.”

“Not that I don’t like spending time with you,” he assures, letting his fingers linger over your hand while he stands up, not wanting to lose contact just yet, “Just don’t want to keep you out too late.”

“Oh yes!” you start with an old southern twang, “My daddy’ll be out there with his pistol if I don’t get home ‘fore sundown.”

“You’re funny,” he laughs, letting go over your hand to reach up and squeeze your cheeks affectionately. You both put on your jackets and head outside, both of you wincing in the cold of the winter air.

“I’d really like to do this again, if you want,” a shy blush reaches his cheeks, meeting the pink from the cold.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you’re just as shy in your response, “This was fun. You’re fun.”

“Thank you,” he flushes deeper, trying to prolong the inevitable. What if he belly flops? What if it hurts? What if the kids make fun of him?

“I’d offer to drive you home but I’ve had a few,” he says, hand reaching out to fall on your shoulder, “I feel good to drive but like, god forbid anything happens so – I’m happy to get you a car or pay for it for you.”

“That’s really sweet, thanks. Let me just um,” you pull out your phone to get in Uber with a speed that impresses him, “It’s really not that pricey, I’m close-ish by.”

“Still,” he says, “Just wanna be a gentleman y’know?”

“You’re very gentlemanly,” you flirt. Eddie stiffens, nervous, palms clammy.

“So um, I’ll see you soon?” he asks, opening his arms to give you a hug.

“Yeah, for sure,” you nod while you let him engulf you. His scent is warm and spicy, mixed with tobacco. You guess either still smokes, or he used to, but he never got up to have a cigarette in the hours you were at the bar. Eddie let’s go and cups your cheek briefly before giving you a gentle but winning smile. His warm brown eyes linger for the last time on your lips, now they’re slightly parted, waiting for him. His toes curl over the edge of the diving block, his knees are bent, arms up over his head...I don’t want to Miss Tiffany.

Swimming sucks.

“See ya.”

You quirk your brow for a moment, having expected much more than a hug, “Oh, um…see ya.”

He walks half way down the street to his car, heart thrumming in his chest in embarrassment. He should’ve just done it. FUCK. He should’ve just kissed you.

But what if it hurts? What if she leaves? What if you can’t make it to level three? What if they laugh at you?

He breathes heavily through his nose while tears threaten to well up in his eyes, staining his eyelashes. What if you don’t want to see him again after this? What if you change your mind? He sighs audibly when he turns the key, phone auto connecting to the speakers. He turns up the radio while the car revs to life, pulling on his seatbelt and putting the wheels into gear. He leans back in his seat to pull out of his spot only to see you still waiting for the car outside of the bar.

Blink-182 blares through his speakers, hitting him straight in the chest.

‘Let’s go, don’t wait, this night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make,this night last forever. Forever. And ever. Let’s make this last forever.’

What if he did stay a little later after class? What if he got the chance to move on to level three?

Fuck it, he thinks. He turns off the ignition, shaking out the sounds of Jason Carver and the kids laughing, the sounds of their feet kicking in the water. Just Miss Tiffany and her whistle. He gets out of the car, determined. You’re still there, head whipping around to see him coming towards you while you bounce on the balls of your feet in the cold.

Arms up. Knees bent. “Ed? My car’s gonna be here in a sec–” Whistle. His hands reach out to your cold cheeks to pull you in before his full lips capture yours. His eyes flutter close at the contact, feeling your mouth react to his in time. Soft and needy, hydrated. You immediately know how to keep his pace while he separates and goes back in for more. Wet but not messy, passionate but not feverish. The smoothest dive he’d ever done in his life. Your hands escape your pockets, fingers sliding behind his neck to pull him closer, sliding through the nape of his hair. He breaks away for a moment to delicately push your hair out of your face and really look at you before pressing his lips to yours again. You only stop when your Uber beeps from across the street.

“I wanted to do that all night,” he mumbles sheepishly.

“I wanted you to do that all night, too,” you giggle, breathless and blushing, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says, running a hand over his face, “Let me know when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, hurrying across the street as the car honks again, “Bye!”

“I’ll put something together for next time!” he calls out. ‘Cause there will be a next time.

Tatianna is leaning over the back of the couch with her chin in her hands when Eddie opens the door. Her cheshire cat grin matches his own.

“So I didn’t hear from you all night,” she starts, her voice syrupy smooth, “So that means it must’ve went really well.”

Eddie sighs dreamily, kicking off his boots at the entryway and hanging his jacket on one of the hooks by the door.

“Ooh, you like herrrr! I can tell! Look at your stupid face!” she laughs, pointing at him, bouncing on the cushions.

“Tati she’s…fuck,” he shakes his head in disbelief while he walks towards her, “There’s either two ways this could go.”

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him, “And those are?”

“I’m gonna marry her, or she’s gonna absolutely fuckin’ ruin my life.”

“I like her already,” Tati grins, “Sit down, tell me everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a sec,” he grumbles, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He plops down onto the couch while Tati grabs two cups of tea from the kitchen that she made especially for the recap of his night. Gareth had been long asleep for an early morning at work tomorrow.

Eddie takes out his phone, two unread text alerts lingering on his home page. He opens them, smiling stupidly into the screen.

i’m home :) you’re a really good kisser by the way.

glad you made it home safe. you are too. :) but you started off pretty kissable so, that’s probably why. you’re making me blush over here, stop it.

Eddie lets out a soft chuckle through his nose, clicking out of your text conversation to go back to his home screen.

He deletes the apps.

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