#half a beer and one hit off a joint

[lilyblisslys]

I’m extremely (for me) not sober at a party and someone is trying to explain a card game to me, someone please help

[erwinsvow]

Imagine if Rafe let R try a joint

Like, her brains getting all fuzzy and she's even more giggly than usual, and he's just, like enamoured. He thinks she's adorable.

"one hit, that's it-" rafe says, low and quiet in your ear.

you're curled up on his lap at the party, both of you resting on the couch while you observe the scene around you with big eyes. rafe's friends were snorting powder off of mirrors, washing it down with liquor that was definitely harder than the fruity seltzer your boyfriend allowed you to drink. rafe said you couldn't handle anything harder, and you agreed without questioning him, like you always did.

you had pointed to the white lines on the table infront of you and asked him as sweetly as you could if you could try some. kelce overheard you and starts pushing the mirror in your direction, and you look at him with a smile, before rafe stares him down and delivers a tap to your cheek. it's just to get your attention, not really to hurt you, but you feel your face flushing where he touched you when he speaks.

"hey, you don't listen to him, you listen to me, right?" you see kelce in the corner of your eye, taking the tray back and offering it to the girl next to him.

"i know, i just-"

"no, no just anything. y'can barely drink this watered-down crap without trippin' over your feet." he rests back on the sofa, hands gripping your waist and leg tightly. "wants to snort coke. you're funny, kid."

you pout, taking another sip of your drink. you're only half way through the can but your head is starting to feel fuzzy, already. you decide then and there that rafe always knows best for you, but you still want to try the things he tries, show him that you can handle it. the boys next to rafe pass a blunt over you, directly to him. when they blow out the smoke, you start coughing, but watch carefully as your boyfriend takes a long hit. just as he's about to pass it across to kelce, you catch his wrist.

"can i try that instead? please?" you try your best to straighten up, to show him you can take it and that you're not already drunk. "please," you whine, and his friends turn their head to look. you're sure that they think it's silly, the way you have to ask rafe for permission for everything and anything. you don't care, though.

"kid, stop-"

"i can take it, promise. just this time. i won't ever ask again."

that's how you had ended up like this, rafe talking into your ear while he holds the blunt to your lips.

"alright, suck in. long as you can. you're a pro at that, aren't ya?" his words make you lose your concentration, breaking into a coughing fit before you can even try to inhale.

"rafe!" you whine again, pummeling your fists into his chest, still choking on the smoke. your throat feels scratchy but you know that couldn't have been enough.

"what, kid, i gotta do everything for you?" he takes a long hit, and then grips your cheeks with his hand, forcing your mouth open and then blowing the smoke into your throat for you. then he clamps it shut, holds your shoulder while you cough, and passes the blunt along to kelce.

you cough a little, but before long, you're putty in his arms, leaning your head against his shoulder and giggling at nothing. you poke at his chest and then start playing with his chain, then his hair, and then back down to his fingers. he lets you do it, watching you play with his ring and pressing a kiss to your forehead. you're cute like this, he thinks, less shy and not as worried what everyone must think about you. he thinks he likes it, that maybe he should let you smoke with him every once in a while.

"feel good, baby?" he asks in your ear, and you squirm in his touch, pulling away before resting your head again.

"mhm. really good. this is fun. wish it wasn't a crime." he laughs, taking another sip of his beer. you try to copy him, reaching for your seltzer but knocking it over by accident.

"oops," you say with another laugh. "sorry to-wait, whose house is this?"

"c'mon kid, makin' a mess," he groans, picking up the can and watching the fizzy liquid travel.

"sorry, daddy." in your state, you don't realize how loud you said it, but even with everyone's eyes on you, you don't care much, smiling back sweetly at rafe.

"alright, we're leavin'."

[myspacebrat]

Heavy metal parking lot

eddie munson x metal head fem!reader

summary: the last thing you ever expected was to hit it off with a cute guy at a Judas Priest concert, but stranger things have happened.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, all porn almost no plot, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl etc.), smoking the devils lettuce, queer!eddie, reader has nipple piercings, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation (but eddie is still a simp), oral (m receiving), unprotected rough p in v sex (this is fantasy, pls don’t have unprotected sex with strangers), anal play (f receiving).

notes: just a dirty little one shot. Sorry, there will not be a part two. Thank you to my loves: @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can & @stwritings for beta reading <3 also, blame @bettyfrommars & @xxhellfiregirlxx for me posting this filth on our holy day.

wc: 3.1k

This was a stupid idea, stupid, stupid.

But here you are driving to the market square arena, an hour away from home, dead in the middle of a scorching summer, alone.

You had this elaborate plan for months, ever since you had bought your tickets. You and your best friend Abbee were supposed to meet up at your house, get ready together, go grab some fuel and head to the show a little early to hang out in the parking lot. That unfortunately is not what ended up happening. You got ready…alone, got food…alone and now you’re making the trip…alone.

You can’t be mad at your friend, she did have a very valid excuse as to why she was unable to make it. You couldn’t help but to kick yourself for never being brave enough to put yourself out there and make new friends, but maybe that would change, maybe you would meet some cool people at the show, some Judas Priest fans seemed like the perfect place to start.

The parking lot was jam packed, men and women in all their Judas Priest or Dokken gear, huge banners held out by adoring fans, beer cans littering the lot as weed and cigarette smoke fog the air.

You finally find parking, lucky for you it seems to be the last vacant spot left, squeezed tight between a red Camaro and a brown van.

Better than nothing.

As you exit your black Honda accord, your eyes flit around the lot, taking in your surroundings as you breathe in the second hand smoke.

“Hey, sick shirt.” A gruff voice towards your left calls out. You look around for a second before your eyes finally land on the owner of the van that's parked beside you.

His brown wavy hair gets hit by a gust of wind, as if he’s some hot character in one of those movies that the protagonist is in love with. You definitely couldn’t deny his hotness.

His defenders of the faith shirt clung to his body like a second skin, tight dark blue jeans with a chain adorned his lower half along with white reeboks.

He had a joint perched between his two fingers as his eyes so boldly roamed your figure.

“Thanks,” you acknowledge, as you look down at your ‘hell bent for leather’ cropped tee, and then back up to meet his mischievous smirk. “Yours is sick, too.” You offer in a small but cheerful voice.

“You wanna come smoke with me, pretty girl?” He offers as the mischievous smile grows, like the grinch who stole Christmas.

“Uhh, sure why not?” You shrug, making your way over to the van and taking a seat on the red carpeted floor, your leather mini skirt now hiked up around the very tops of your thighs while your knee high boots hang out the side, resting on the asphalt below you.

“I’m Eddie.” He declares while holding out a heavily ringed hand, you stare it down ogling between his tattoos, black nail polish and badass rings before placing your smaller appendage in his, you firmly shake it with a smile as you tell him your name.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He chuckles before handing you the dwindling joint.

You take a hit while you let your eyes wander around the inside of his van, a small mattress set up with a colorful quilt and two fluffy pillows.

Various magazines of the adult variety scrawled out haphazardly on the floor, a six pack of coors lite sits on the arm rest between the two front seats, breaking the law plays out through the speakers.

Though he’s not the only one, various Judas Priest songs could be heard throughout the stadium's parking lot.

You take another small hit, passing back the now roach sized spliff. Eddie tries to get one more hit out of it, before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his white sneaker.

You begin to stand up with the thought that you may be overstaying your welcome, until Eddie puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to go.” The shy look on his face is the total antithesis of his cocky demeanor when he’d first waved you over.

“Oh, okay. I just didn’t want to bother or keep you from anything.” Your response is sheepish and the butterflies in your belly begin fluttering about.

“No baby, you're not keeping me from anything.” He beams.

That damn nickname pulls you in like a moth to a flame.

As you and Eddie grow better acquainted, you realize he has a great sense of humor with an eccentric personality.

You also quickly realize you want him.

Right here in the back of his van.

You scoot your bottom back, making your way into the wagon. The action causes your skirt to roll up further along your thighs, giving Eddie the perfect glimpse of your black panties.

You swing your feet inside and hoist yourself up on your knees, as graceful as possible. Waddling over like a penguin to fling yourself onto the mattress that had your mind wandering.

“Mmm, this is comfy.” You sigh with a smile, as your body burrows deeper into the off white sheets below you.

Eddie stands just outside the door, eyes unable to leave your backside as you cuddle up on his mattress. ‘Was this his lucky day?’ This shit never happens to him, well at least not with women anyway. He had better luck with men.

Thank you Judas Priest, Eddie silently prays to the sky before making his way inside the vehicle to join you.

“Mind if I lay down?” He mumbles, surprising you with his close proximity.

You turn, catching onto the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you; and what you would give to have them looking down at you while he’s working your body to sweet, sweet release.

“No, of course not.” You giggle, the sound makes Eddie twitch in his pants.

He was a sweet boy, you wanted him to fucking ruin you.

You turn to face him, head resting on your palm as you pat the spot beside you.

The sly smirk returns as he lays down on the mattress, mirroring your exact position.

“Shows gonna start in an hour.” He whispers, scooting in closer towards you, the warmth radiating off of his skin is sending your body into a frenzy.

“Mm, so we have enough time?” You sweetly whisper back.

“Enough time for what? Hmm?” Your bodies continue to gravitate together, a pull so strong it was like you were both attached to magnets.

“For this..” you breathily huff before straddling Eddie’s waist, the groan that escapes him makes your eyes roll back, as you begin to grind down on his growing erection.

“Fuck” Eddie hisses as his hands fall to your waist, now controlling your movements and pulling you in deeper.

“That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” The air gets caught in your throat as a small laugh leaves your lips, your clit catching on rough denim fabric, Eddie swears every time you giggle it’s like an angel gets its wings. It’s sweet and soft, just like you.

You lean in closer, soft plump lips meeting yours in a tangle of tongues, it’s hot and desperate as you are for each other.

Eddie moans into your mouth as your movements get more daring, practically bouncing on his clothed lap. His eyes quickly flicker to your tits as they jiggle with each bounce, it’s clear you’re not wearing a bra, and the idea makes Eddie’s mouth water and his cock stiffen. It feels the hardest it's been since he took a dick in his ass for the very first time. He needs to be inside you and he hopes you're willing to give him that, he’ll do anything for it, at this moment. He feels like a desperate idiot; but he is, he really is so fucking desperate for you.

You immediately notice the way Eddie’s eyes have been trained on the perky slopes of your breasts, with an ever growing smirk you take the hem and hike the shirt up and over your head to be discarded on the red carpet of his van.

“Holy shit!” Eddie practically pants, like a dog who’s out of water.

His decorated hands move up from your hips as they begin to tweak at your nipples, nimble fingers rubbing over the double balled jewelry that sits on each hardened peak.

“Fuck, such pretty tits!” He groans “and they’re pierced, Jesus.” Eddie was enthralled, absolutely fucking enthralled by you.

You lean down, planting soft kisses to Eddie’s long, beautiful neck, leaving behind remenits of your red lipstick and spit soaked bruises.

“Mmm…” he hums as you suck and bite at a spot under his ear lobe.

“Please, fuck me.” You breathily murmur into his ear, before you lift yourself back up using his pecs as leverage, eyes meeting his as you gauge his reaction to your plea.

“You sure, baby?” He whispers before leaving a sloppy kiss to your jaw.

“I’m so sure, please Eddie.” The way you moan his name as you beg for him creates something feral inside of Eddie, his eyes now glazed over into something dark, his jaw tightens as he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass, that are now exposed while your skirt sits carelessly on your lower back.

His right hand slowly glides up your body and into your hair, quickly tightening his fingers around the strands at the base of your neck.

“You want my cock, princess?” He challenges through his teeth.

“Yes, mmhmm, so bad!” You insist with a shout, having your hair pulled has always made you drip between your legs.

“Then go on.. take my cock out, you cock hungry little slut.” He growls as his fingers wrap tighter around your hair before quickly pulling his hand away, he gives your ass one hard spank before he’s back to grabbing at the meat.

You make quick work of his handcuff belt, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling down the zipper before dipping your thumbs into the waistband of both his boxers and jeans and peeling them off, leaving both garments to sit around the tops of his knees.

The sight you’re met with causes you to gasp, he has to be at least 9 inches, it was red and throbbing, wetness from his precum already saturating the mushroom tip.

“Like what you see, baby?” He brags with a smirk that could make Satan himself shiver.

“You’re so pretty, every part of you.” You admit as you lick your bottom lip, with hunger in your eyes.

Eddie wraps a ringed hand around the base of his cock, vulgarly slapping the air with it,

“Where do you want it, huh sweetheart?” His grunt made more slick pool from your needy cunt.

Showing is better than telling, so you plant your knees between his thighs, bringing your face mere inches from his pulsing hard sex.

“Holy fuck, are you gonna—” his eyes roll back as your tongue glides up the underside of his cock, before wrapping your lips around his tip. “No girl has ever given me head.” He huffs while throwing his head back.

You let go of his cock with a wet pop, “no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” You scrunch your face up in confusion, there’s no way he’s never been treated to some head, that would be a travesty.

“I have, j-just not by a-a women.” He stutters out in embarrassment, as his face flushes a bright red that travels down his neck.

It takes you a second to understand what he means, “oh” was all you said, before shrugging and getting back to work on his tip.

He smiles down at you, pulling all of your hair out of your face and holding it together in a makeshift ponytail as he gently guides your head up and down on him, until you’re taking him deeper, so deep your nose is now brushing against the curly hairs at his base, you swallow his tip down before you begin rapidly moving and twisting your head as if a women possessed.

“Oh my— whoa, fuck baby!” He keens into the stuffy air of the van, “your mouth feels so fucking good!” He begins rapidly pumping his hips up, fucking your throat as spit strings fall to his balls, you reach a hand out and begin massaging them, making him growl in pleasure.

“Okay baby, okay angel please, please stop.” Eddie whimpers as he pulls you off of his cock, the spit on your lips remains connected to Eddie’s tip.

He rubs over the messy swollen flesh with the pad of his thumb, as he hums in satisfaction.

“All fours, now.” He commands before shifting up and onto his knees, you crawl further up the mattress, finally laying your head against the sheets that were now dampened by his back, you arch your ass up while making sure your stomach was equally lowered, the position causing your ass to stick out more for him.

“Good girl.” He praised before giving your ass another harsh slap. “Let’s get these off of you.” Eddie slides your black thong over your butt and down your legs, slowly pulling them off from around your feet.

He throws your panties towards the front of the driver's seat, the black fabric lands perfectly on his dashboard. “M’keepin’ those.” He chuckles.

You’re so lost in desire, that someone could’ve told you Rob Halford himself was out signing autographs and you wouldn’t have bat an eyelash or made any attempts to move.

“Fuck, look at these pretty holes.” Eddie groans while running the tips of his fingers from your clit up towards your asshole. “You like getting all of your holes filled, princess?” He smirks at the way your body reacts to him and how loud you moan at his words.

Your ‘yes’ is muffled by the mattress, Eddie’s having none of it.

SLAP!

“Speak up!” He grumbles, before taking both cheeks roughly in his hands and spreading them.

“Yes! I love it!” Your wail has Eddie’s smirk growing more devilish

“I know you do.” He mocks as his middle finger teases your entrance, he causes your body to writhe and groan in desperation by slipping just the tip of his finger in and out of your aching hole.

Finally after all of his teasing, he slips his full finger inside, pumping in and out at a splitting speed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He gasps while resting his head on your backside as he still works you with his finger, finally slipping another one in and scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out.

He hasn’t even fucked you, yet you’re still an incoherent mess as slobber begins to pool on the sheets below your face.

His head starts to slowly move closer to where you’re spread, you gasp and wiggle when you feel his wet tongue slowly lick over your puckered hole.

“Oh fuck!” You blubber, the action making you clench around Eddie’s fingers.

“Mm, oh you like getting your asshole licked?” He scoffs in a teasing tone “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

All you can do is nod and sob into his cheap cologne smelling sheets.

Slowly slipping his fingers out as he moves in closer, replacing his digits with his throbbing cock.

“You ready, princess?” He surveys as he runs his calloused hands up and down your back, gently rubbing at your soft skin.

“Mmhm, I’m ready.” You consent while lifting your head to get a good look at him as he slides into you.

His tip begins breaching your entrance as your eyes remain locked on each other, you and Eddie’s brows are both furrowed and jaws slack as he pushes in deeper.

“Oh, fuck!” Eddie growls as he continues to stretch you out. If he were to die in this very moment, he would die a happy man, the way your pussy is squeezing and choking him; he’s fucked tight assholes, but never a pussy this tight and he thinks it might be his new favorite thing, the way you get so effortlessly wet and the ridges on your walls that stimulate his cock so sensationally. The weed makes his mind go to some weird places; maybe I found some kind of holy grail pussy? He shakes his head of the weird thoughts beginning to plague his mind.

“Yes, right there!” Your screeching brings him back down to this dimension, making him drive deeper and pound harder into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over until you’re shaking underneath him, knees almost buckling at the intense pleasure that is now conquering your body. His fingers are pressed so deep into the skin of your upper thighs, that you’re positive they’ll be bruised by tomorrow.

“Right there?” Eddie mockingly smirks as he hits it over and over with his tip, “that your spot, baby?”

Your “mmhmm” comes out so whiny and desperate, he knew you were close and so was he but he needed to see you fall apart first.

Eddie quickly brings his thumb up to his lips, the calloused finger dipping into his mouth as he sucks, getting it all nice and wet before you feel it prodding your unused hole, he begins thrusting faster as his digit reaches the second knuckle. “Oh my god, you have the tightest fucking holes.” He sounds so out of breath and fucked out by this point, his loud groans, filthy words and extra finger are making you reach that peak of toe curling completion at a hurdling speed.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine as you begin to back up into his thrusts, making his cock and finger hit deeper depths.

“Yes, cum for me baby.” He urges as he’s on the precipice of his own high.

“Yes, yes…” you babble as your body tenses, uncontrollably shaking as you come undone, Eddie’s thumb continues to work your asshole, while he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ll probably ever have.

“I-I’m coming baby, fuck!” Eddie shouts before he pulls himself out of your tight heat, hand maniacally working his cock until his warm seed spurts into your stretched out asshole.

“Holy shit!” He groans while his body falls over yours, you both begin to laugh until you hear someone pound their fist on the side of the van.

“Hey, Eddie—” you gasp at the disturbance, eyes going wide when you catch a glance at the metalhead, “the show's about to start man, everyone’s lining up at the door!” The raspy masculine voice calls out again, before you’re left in silence.

You and Eddie begin frantically getting dressed in hopes to get a good spot in line.

Once out into the fresh summer air, Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, “you wanna watch the show with us, princess?” He proposes with a sweet grin, while lighting a cigarette.

You were right, a Judas Priest concert was the perfect place to make new friends.

taglist:

@michellecrusher @ali-r3n @crybabyddl @definitelynotecho @ajkamins @daniellabrandt @bl4ckt00thgr1n

[wishful-sinful-9]

WANNA BE YOUR DOG

Chapter One

Cagefighter!Logan Howlett x Reader

Chapters | Masterlist

Winter already has its icy grip on the world outside, but in this bar, it’s as hot as the equator.

There wasn’t a shot in hell you would’ve picked this job - bartending in a sketchy underground cage-fighting joint - if it weren't for sheer desperation. Sweaty bodies packed tightly together. Impatient men demanding service everywhere you turn. Grunts and shouts and wails of pain from the cage.

When the fighting was over, the majority of patrons stumbling out the door, you could finally breathe. Wipe down the bartop, wipe away the night.

“Hey, bub, can I get a beer?”

The Wolverine heaves his weary body on a barstool and makes his usual request - the bar owners’ main source of income, the undefeatable beast of a man got a drink free after striking every opponent down with a few swings of his fist. The body hit the floor; another bet was won.

“Here you go.” You avoid his gaze as you pass him the bottle. He grunts his thanks.

A few months ago, you lost your previous job, though fortunately you had a roommate to cover your half of the rent until you found another. Unfortunately, said roommate had already planned on moving out around that same time. Therefore this sad little nightly routine was the only means of avoiding homelessness. What would your parents think, if they were to see you in this dingy, overtly illegal, shithole of a bar? You smile slightly at the thought as you dry off a glass.

Sensing eyes on you, you glance up to meet the Wolverine’s dark gaze, expressionlessly trained on you. Heat creeps into your cheeks and you turn away to pick up another glass.

–

“Shit, shit, shit!”

You slam your car door shut behind you, aborting your fruitless attempts to start it. You wrap your fleece-lined jacket tightly around yourself as you glare at the crappy old piece of metal and go over your options. Option, singular. Walk down a pitch-black icy road. You cuss again and ram a boot into the door.

“You alright there?” A gruff voice from behind startles you.

Turning around, you’re met with the looming presence of the cage fighter, donning a motorcycle jacket, the high collar and angular shoulders making him look even more intimidating. He looks at you with a raised brow.

“Er - well - no, not really,” you stammer out, “my car won’t start.”

“Oh.”

He remains several feet away from you, as if approaching a wild animal. You scuff the toe of your shoe in the gravel like a shy schoolgirl. “Yeah. Um…”

“Would you like a ride?”

He’s offering you a ride.

You shouldn’t. This is a dangerous man; a fighter for a living. And beyond that, you had reason to suspect he might not be just a man. You were sceptical of the idea of mutants, but after watching him take many a vicious blow and emerging without so much as a scrape, you had good reason to believe you were in the presence of one. So you shouldn’t. You really shouldn’t get into the scary guy’s car. Even if your teeth were chattering and your toes numb in your boots. You shouldn’t.

If your parents would be terrified at the sight of your workplace, they’d faint at the sight of you meekly accepting the Wolverine’s offer.

You put all associations of kidnappers with white vans out of your head as you follow him to his. You jam your hands deep into your pockets and clench your jaw tight to prevent the audible chattering. Once in the passenger seat, you breathe a small sigh of relief when the first thing he does after switching on the ignition is turn the heater all the way up.

“Put your hands on it so they can warm up.” He grumbles. You oblige. “Why don’t you have gloves on?”

“I think I left them in my car,” you reply, feeling somewhat foolish. You wonder if making other people feel about two inches tall was a hobby of his or an unconscious habit.

He says nothing. He doesn’t turn the radio on. His eyes remain trained on the road ahead. You glance at him once or twice, but his expression is blank and his mouth is clamped shut. Behind you, you are aware of the narrow bed and minimalistic living set up that brings to you a wave of affection for your one-storey rental that has caused you so much grief these past few months. You had always assumed cage fighting must be pure sport to him, and that there was some daytime job he worked to support himself, but now you're beginning to wonder if his sole income is the bets placed on his fists.

He parks a little way down the opposite side of the road as there are cars in front of your house. You pause with your hand on the door handle, watching him scan the area before grunting, “Iʼll walk you in.”

You fumble with the latch on your gate, letting your hair sweep over your face to disguise your rosy cheeks when he leans over you to do it himself. Taking extra care not to slip on your doorsteps and make an even bigger fool of yourself, you jiggle your key into the lock and turn to face…you don’t know his real name. Oh god.

“Thank you so, so much…”

“Logan.”

“Yes! Logan. Thank you Logan.” You give him an awkward smile as he nods his head, again, expressionless.

He grunts a humble “no problem,” and turns to walk away as you step halfway over the threshold. Your mind returns to his van. The sorry little bed that you’re quite frankly surprised can support his broad stature. Before you can psych yourself out of it, you blurt out: “Wait! I have a spare room?”

He halts, caught off guard. “What?”

“If you wanted to stay the night,” you cringe at the words as you say them, “since you went through the trouble of taking me home. You're welcome to. If you want.”

The silence is deafening. He blinks at you and the sudden urge to shoot yourself in the head is overwhelming. Oh my god, what am I think-

“Alright. If it’s okay.”

–

Naturally, he’d gone to fetch a change of clothes and a toothbrush, and you took the few minutes to shove stray underwear in your laundry basket, bin the empty bottle of wine on your kitchen counter, and clear away the pile of well-loved makeup products cluttering the bathroom sink. You mentally cursed yourself for living like the cover of the Stereotypical Sad Single Female magazine.

A new wave of embarrassment washed over you when you showed him to your roommate’s old room, the bed still made in the comically girly pink floral sheets she had left behind. “Very feminine.” he’d commented.

When you’d hastily excused yourself to bed, you let out a long, self-loathing groan into your pillow.

–

It’s six-thirty in the morning, a blasphemous hour to be awake at, and Logan is trying to be quiet on the other side of the wall, in spite of his ridiculously heavy footsteps. You lie awake as he shuffles to the bathroom, wait until the shower is on, then haul yourself out of bed because part of you worries he'll sneak out like a guilty one-night stand without you getting the chance to atleast make him coffee.

By the time he’s emerged, dressed, from the bathroom you've managed to stick some bacon in a pan and made a pot of coffee. He seems taken aback, and it makes you far more comfortable to know that there's one emotion that can display itself on his stoic face: surprise.

“Sorry if I woke you up.” He glances at you as you set his plate on the table.

“It’s fine,” you reply, sitting opposite. Now that the Wolverine is sat at your dainty kitchen table, he seems less like a man-bashing beast and more like a stray dog you've ushered into your home. Thoughtfully, you begin to eat, suddenly feeling far more able to look at him directly. “Can I ask you something?”

He stops, looking at you slowly. “Ask me what?”

Now or never. You inhale deeply and softly say, “How come you never have a single bruise to show for those beatings you take?”

A pause. He chews his bacon and swallows it carefully, analysing your face.

“Do you really want to know?” his voice is low and eyes narrow. You nod. With a sigh, he sets down his cutlery and lifts a fist - the swift sound of sharp metal being unsheathed cuts through the domestic morning quiet as three knife-like claws protrude from his knuckles. Your eyes widen and your knife and fork clatter onto your plate.

“You’re a-”

“This metal runs through me. I think it’s attached to my skeleton.” He explains, rotating his fist so you can better gawk at the claws. “I can also heal extremely fast. There’s other things too, like my sense of smell being advanced…”

“Like a wolverine,” you say, “apt name.”

He grunts and you absent-mindedly lift a finger to touch the deadly metal, “They’re sharp.” he snaps, retracting them. You sit back quickly. He clears his throat. “Sorry. Just didn't want you to…”

“It’s okay. Ahem…”

You don’t dare ask another question despite the many that were whirring in your mind, feeling that the tension has risen once more surrounding the subject. The two of you eat, in silence again.

Once he has his shoes and jacket on, you show him to the door. In spite of the information revealed at the table, somehow his presence makes you a little less nervous than it did the previous night. He falters in the threshold, turning to you.

“Thanks, for letting me stay and everything,” he says. “You didn’t have to.”

You smile lightly, “It’s no problem, really. Thank you for the ride home.”

He nods, “See you, then.”

“See you, Logan.”

You watch him from the window in your door as he crosses the street, lighting up a cigar. If your parents could see you now.

a/n: so sorry for this shaky writing 😭 this is my first time working on a series and I suckkk at starting things so sorry if this falls a little flat - might go back and re-edit when I'm not so tired but oh well! if you'd like to be tagged in the next part please let me know :))

@fallout-girl219 @viviannagiorgini

[fallingformatt]

PARTY C.S.

fratboy!Chris x reader

summary: what happens when you go to Chris’ frat party for the first time?

warnings: smut, usage of alcohol and weed

word count: 2.1k

a/n: I don’t know if this is any good, but I’ve been wanting to write something about Chris so if yall have any suggestions or ideas lmk 🤭

this post is not proofread

➽───────────────❥

Chris is known for throwing the best parties on campus, he's known for always having what you need, whether it is weed, drugs, or some dick. All the girls on campus drool over him and most of them can only dream of getting with him. Chris is a slut and he knows it, Chris isn't seen with the same girl more than once, and the girls that get with him know that, yet many of them think that they can change him.

Chris is always in the scene, hanging out with his friends, always having a girl wrapped around his shoulder, and spending more days of the week partying than actually studying. I'm the complete opposite of Chris, I'd rather stay in my room, unwind from the day, and watch a movie while eating some snacks, I mean yeah sure I've been to parties but I've never been to one in collage let alone to one of his parties but the stories that my roommates tell me give me a pretty clear image about what happens at the parties and what happens when you find yourself in his bed sheets.

Tonight was different though, I was out of my comfy pajamas, out of my comfy bed, out of my comfy room, just in general I was out of my element tonight because we're currently heading over to Chris' for one of his usual parties. My roommate has been begging me to come for weeks and tonight I finally caved in. As we got closer to his place, the loud music made its appearance, and I immediately started to regret my decision to go, why did I agree to go, why did I agree to wear my roommate's dress that has my butt slightly hanging out with every step that I take. "Hey you good?" my roommate asks turning her head in my direction. I simply nod. "Good, 'cause we're here," she says with a huge smile plastered across her face, grinning at me from ear to ear.

As I'm stepping in, the loud music starts pounding through my ears, the smell of weed and sweat hits my nostrils, and the sight of people dancing, smoking, and passing joints, people snorting lines and pushing tongues down each other's throats meets my gaze.

"Hey ladies," Chris walks up to us greeting us, his tone is sluggish almost lazy, his eyes dark and bloodshot his one hand already wrapped around some girl's waist as the other one is holding a beer. My eyes meet his bloodshot ones, his gaze is inviting yet dark at the same time, he quickly scans me up and down before licking his lips, a dark smirk forming on them as the grip around the blonde girl's waist gets looser.

"Let's get something to drink," my friend says as she pulls me through the crowd of people dancing. As I'm sipping on the hard liquor that's in my cup my roommate pulls me into the crowd of people that are dancing.

The music takes over my body as I move to the rhythm of the song that's playing. I take the last sip of my drink, my cup that's now empty has left me feeling a bit tipsy, I look around, searching for my friend who's nowhere to be found. I swiftly move through the crowd making my way to the kitchen to refill my cup while scanning the area in hopes of finding my friend but with no success. I refill my cup and find my way to the couch, I sit down, causing my already revealing dress to slip up even higher, half of my ass now being exposed on the old couch whose leather fabric is torn in multiple places, matching the vibe that the alcohol stained rug gives off that's underneath the couch.

While sipping on the strong drink that's in my cup I feel someone's eyes on me, I lift my head to look who it is, and I see Chris standing across from me, two chicks around him dancing and drinking their drinks as they try to rub up on him, trying to get noticed by him, yet his hungry gaze is set in my direction, his eyes wandering, scanning me up and down. I quickly lift myself up enough to pull my dress down enough to try to cover as much of my ass as I can, his eyes make their way up to mine causing me to turn head and look away.

I feel a slight bounce of the couch as someone takes a seat next to me, I look over and it's Chris, he sat down next to me and set down his beer bottle on the table in front of him before sliding his hand down the pocket of his grey zip up hoodie pulling out a zip lock pocket filled with weed, his fingers quickly reaching for the papers, eager to roll up a joint. I glance over his fingers as they precisely and quickly finish the joint, his tongue traces over the seal of the joint before he rolls it closed placing it between his lips and lighting it. His finger movement made my thoughts wander.

As he removes the joint from his lips he blows out the foggy cloud of smoke before turning his head in my direction, shifting his gaze to me, my eyes already examining him, his slightly curly but messy hair which were held back by a red backward cap, his relaxed pose as he sits in his ripped up couch, a smirk appears on his lips as he notices my focused stare, "want some?" Chris offers. I slowly nod before my fingers softly brush against his as I take the joint from him. I take a couple of hits before passing the joint back to him. He gives me his signature grin that makes all the girls weak in the knees.

"m' Chris," he says falling deeper into the couch and laying his hand behind me on the couch. "I know," I mumble looking down at my cup swirling around the liquid that's in it before taking a sip. "Dis ain't you're scene ain't it doll," he says his voice relaxed as he grabs his beer bottle taking a few sips. "Where your friend go?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders in response as I feel the effect of the weed slowly taking over my body.

"Ur like the quiet type yeah?" He asks as he takes the last hit from his joint before throwing it in the beer bottle. "I don't know," I answer. "You look like a baby deer, all cute n shit, I like that," he says his voice growing deeper as his tone stays relaxed. I take my eyes off the cup that's in front of me and look at him studying his features, staying silent. His eyes look more faded than before, his lips are glossy, I glance over his hands, and the thought of his fingers while he was rolling the joint pops up in my head making me bite my bottom lip as I feel myself getting wet.

"Doll you good?" He asks as he lays his hand down on my thigh, I nod. "Hey, you got any more weed?" I ask trying to break the silence. "Mhm, you wanna smoke?" Chris asks. "Yeah," I answer and Chris stands up pushing out his hand, offering me to take it. As I stand up I fix my dress and Chris leads me through the crowd of people to his room. The way to his room was a blur, the mix of alcohol and weed buzzing through my body as the flashing lights and the loud music spins around me.

As we enter his room he walks over to his desk and opens the top drawer pulling out a pre-rolled joint. He holds it between his fingers as he walks towards me. He presses his thumb on my bottom lip, putting the joint between my lips before pulling out a lighter out of his pocket and lighting up the joint that's in my mouth. As I inhale I notice his hungry stare, I take another hit and before I get to exhale the heavy white cloud of smoke, he pushes his lips onto mine, our lips moving in sync the fuzzy effect of the weed taking over my body as the music plays in the background the smoke escaping as our lips move against each other.

Chris' lips make their way down from my lips to my jaw as he leaves wet sloppy kisses. I throw my head back giving him more access as he leaves a trail of wet kisses from my jaw down to my collarbone, before removing his lips as he takes the joint out of my hand and puts it between his lips, taking a hit. Chris leads me to his messy bed, turning me over, my ass brushing against his growing bulge. He lets out a quiet grunt before I feel his hand on my lower back pushing me onto the bed.

I support myself on my elbows my ass is up, and my dress slides up, revealing my ass fully. "Mmmm," Chris sighs before I feel a smack against my ass. His hand rubs circles on it before giving another sharp slap and grabbing on it. His hand makes its way to my clothed core as he rubs circles on my clit. I let out a moan as I arch my back moving my ass closer to him yearning for his touch. "Eager are we doll?" Chris says before I hear him unbuckling his pants and pulling them down. His hand travels up the outer side of my thigh till his fingers reach and grab the waistband of my panties pulling them down.

Chris smacks his dick on my pussy a few times before aligning his dick with my entrance and pushing his cock inside me. "Oh my god Chris," I moan almost yelling as I feel his cock slipping inside of me filling me up. "So tight doll, fuck," he moans as he starts to move inside of me. As he's pounding into me his hand travels up my back, his fingers wrap around my throat holding a tight grip he pulls me up while fastening his pace, and I let out a loud moan. My back rubs against his chest as he holds a tight grip around my jaw, he moves his other hand and places the joint between my lips. I inhale and throw my head back as I let the smoke out.

I let out a loud moan as Chris fastens his pace his dick moving fast and hard in me, he pushes me causing me to crash my face into his sheets. He places a hard smack on my ass and I'm moaning his name over and over again as I feel myself getting close. "Chris-" I moan out, "Chris I'm bout to," I can't complete my sentence as the pleasure is uncontrollable. I hear Chris chuckle, his hand travels to my hair pulling on it, now pounding into me even deeper and faster. "Haven't been fucked this good yeah?" He says his voice deep and filled with pleasure before letting out a moan as he takes a hit from the joint that is in his other hand.

"I'm clo- Chris I'm so," I try to blur out that I'm close but with no success. "Look at ya doll, ur a mess over my dick," he chuckles leaning over me leaving a kiss on my back and continuing pushing hard inside me. I arch my back as I feel myself about to go over the edge. "Shit doll taking me so fuckin' good," he moans out not slowing down. I stretch out my hand grasping onto his sheets as I feel the knot in my stomach about to unravel. "I'm about to cum," I moan out. "Cum for me doll," Chris growls, taking a hit from the joint throwing his head back letting out a moan.

"Fuck doll," he moans as he places a deep hard thrust making me go over the edge. I let out a pornographic moan as my orgasm takes over me sending shivers down my spine and making my body shake. Chris continues to thrust and after a few thrusts he releases his seed inside of me riding out both of our orgasms. "that pretty pussy of yours all mine now doll," he says as he pulls out biting his bottom lip. Chris smacks my ass one more time before pulling up my panties and pulling down my dress so that my ass is once again covered.

As I stand up I turn over to look at Chris and I see him throwing out the joint he had finished smoking. As I’m about to start walking to the door I lose my balance as I am way too high to function. I sit down on Chris’ bed and I hear him chuckle. “Stay here tonight doll, I ain’t let anything happen to you,” he says.

[phoward89]

Happy (late) 420! I tried to get this out yesterday, but that didn't happen. Anyways, here's some Dealer!Coryo x Reader in honor of 420.

Weed, drugs, guns, cussing, Coriolanus Snow being Coriolanus Snow, p in v, slight degradation?, um that's bout it

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1:

“Your brother's drunk again?” Coryo, your weed dealer and fuck buddy, asked as he flung the door to his section 8 apartment open as soon as he saw you thru the peephole. 

He knew what was wrong with you just by the sullen look on your face. Anytime you had that look on your face it was because your brother was either drunk and fighting with you or your ex (who Coryo nearly beat to death after the last time he cheated on you- which if you ask the dealer shouldn't have happened cause only a fucking idiot would stick their cock in a skeezy cunt when they've got your perfect, tight cunt to fuck on the regular) did something (like cheat) to upset you. 

After getting beat within an inch of his life, your ex skipped town. Rumor has it that he went to California. So, Coriolanus knows that there's only one reason you're on his doorstep looking like an anxious mess: your brother, Rein.

“Yep.” You popped your tongue.

“Come in.” Coriolanus ordered, moving aside to make room for you to enter his shithole. As you walked by him and into the apartment that smells heavily of cigarettes, weed, incense, and rose scented glade plug-ins, your favorite drug dealer announced with a lopsided smirk, “I was just ‘bout to roll a joint.”, while shutting and bolting the door.

“It's been a while since I smoked. I could use a few hits to calm down.” You admitted, making a beeline to the lumpy couch and in extension the glass coffee table nestled right in front of it.

A glass coffee table with chipped corners that was cluttered so much that the glass could barely be seen. It was a cluttered mess of magazines, rolling papers, plastic sandwich baggies, large bags of weed, a scale, a few empty beer bottles, an empty chip bag, a red solo cup, zippo, and a cheap ashtray.

Sometimes you wonder about Coryo, who could be a dead ringer for Eminem. Hell, his looks got him the nickname of Paneminem. You know, cause he's the Slim Shady of your small bumfuck Colorado town of Panem. 

A town that both you and Coriolanus Snow, known to a very small select few as Coryo, hate with a passion. 

But, anyways, sometimes you wonder about the dealer with the platinum buzzcut (which you were shocked to find out was his natural hair color) that lives alone. He doesn't have a lot of friends and the only family he's got is a cousin, Tigris, that's a stripper at Pluribus’ club. But they had some kind of falling out after he got a dishonorable discharge from the army and barely talk anymore.

And you only know about Tigris and his brief stint in the military cause you curiously asked him about his dog tags, chewing on the corner of them during a half-high afterglow while cuddling with him.

“What dumb shit did Rein do this time, baby girl?” The hardened drug dealer asked, following you over to the sofa. A sofa that has a board under it to level and prop up the saggy seat cushions.

“He’s pissed that I got laid off and can't find another job.” You told Coryo as the two of you sat down on the couch, making it dip under your combined weight.

“So, does that mean you're gonna start helping your favorite dealer sling shit for cash?” Coriolanus slightly chuckled, slipping his hand underneath the hem of his oversized white T-shirt and pulling his gun out of the waistband of his baggy jeans; placing it down on the coffee table.

You've seen the black Glock so many times, gosh it must be at least 50 by now, since you started buying weed and hooking up with Coryo. Him handling the weapon around you doesn't even phase you anymore. It should. It really should, especially since you weren't raised around guns or violence- but apparently the more time you spend around Snow (Coryo's surname and one of his street names- the other being Snowball) the more you're being corrupted by him.

Unknown to you, Coryo doesn't want you to become corrupted by him. He thinks you're a really sweet girl that had some shit luck of being abandoned by your mom and raised hovering above the poverty line by your much older half-brother and his girlfriend. Despite your crappy conditions, you’re as sweet as honey. Or at least to Coriolanus you are.

For some reason, the hardened drug dealer that's a couple of years older than you wants to keep you safe from any and all dangers in the world. Hell, Snow's not supposed to have feelings for you, a girl that occasionally buys weed from him; comes over to his place to vent about her life, but he does.

And that's not good because feelings are dangerous in his world. The drug underworld. The side of town, hell life, that decent people don't see. 

Coryo's got people that would love to put a bullet in him; the cops also want to lock him up for at least half his life too. Having you around him so much, getting wrapped up in shit isn't good at all. It's not good for you or for him. It'll only end up bad and in heartbreak.

And Snow can't have that. Oh, he has to protect you from his world. The world of drugs and all other illicit activities that transpire in the criminal underworld. You're just too sweet to have as a permanent fixture in his life, which is why he doesn't hang with you unless you're buying weed from him. He won't actively seek you out, despite the fact that you always bring a smile to face and warm his cold, black, dead, frostbitten heart.

“Coryo, you're my only dealer.” You dryly remind him, watching as he perches on the edge of his couch; leaning forward to grab the items he needs from his chipped coffee table to roll the joint with. “And no, I'm not gonna help you deal.”

“Only dealer, favorite dealer: same thing from how I look at it.” Coriolanus retorts while his long fingers nimbly work to fill and roll a joint for the two of you to share. “It was a joke, baby. I wasn't serious.” Your dealer dryly told you before giving out a lecture of, “My line of work’s dangerous, babe. I'd never send you out into that shit just to make a buck.” Waggling a long weed scented finger in your face, he added in, “And I would've fucked some goddamn sense into you if you’d agreed to my fake offer.”

You’re not stupid, you know that Coryo’s not just a weed dealer, but that he sells some hard shit and it makes his job- hell his life- dangerous. But you don't care. You accept him as he is. You're not trying to fix him; you're fine with him the way he is. You're also fine with being his customer/sorta friends with benefits.

You know that Coryo has a lockbox full of various pills and coke that he deals. The box is shoved in the side table, that looks like a weird ass octagon, caddy cornered between his sofa and a heavily duct taped easy chair. You saw it once when you were over, crying about being cheated on by your ex and needing some weed (and maybe some big dick) pronto to make you feel better and calm you down. 

Coryo had a customer he needed to meet and sell some powder to, so he prepared the crap right in front of you. After cutting the white powder finely with a credit card (that you're sure he stole from somebody) and portioning it up in a baggie, he made you swear to never touch the hard shit. He even said that he'd shoot whoever dares to give you the shit right between the eyes if he ever found out that you dabbled in the hard shit.

And then he sent you on your way with a few joints and a promise that he'd stop by to check up on you; see if you need anymore post getting cheated on weed to help feel better with. He kept good on that promise, he stopped by and took you out for a ride. A ride that ended with you desperately riding his cock in the backseat of his car- which was parked in some alleyway in a seedy part of town.

“Calm down, Coryo. God, don’t pop a vein over there.” You sarcastically tell the platinum blonde while he finishes rolling the joint. Watching him pick up his zippo off the table, you assure him.“You don't need to worry about me being in danger from the big bag drug dealers; I'll only make my money legally.”

“Y/N…” Snow mumbled warningly, slipping the joint between his lush lips and lighting up. Taking his first hit, he sighs, “The more you hang ‘round here, baby girl, the more you might be putting your sweet lil ass in danger.” 

“I’m a big girl, Snowball. I can take care of myself, plus I trust you and know that you'd never hurt me.” You said, watching him take his second hit. 

Passing the joint over to you, he dead ass says, “I got enemies; if they think we're a thing they'll fuck you up to get to me.” Shaking his head, he leans his elbows on his knees (of course he was manspreading- he always does when sitting on the sofa). “Cops would haul you in; jam you up just to try and catch my ass.”

Your brows furrow at his words. At their implications.

“So, what, you don't want me coming ‘round anymore?” You asked, brushing your fingertips against his rough, calloused ones as you took the joint from him. “Want me to find somebody new to buy weed from?” You took your first hit, coughing slightly. “Maybe I'll drive a couple hours to Denver and buy from a regulated dealer: from the man.” You threatened, taking your second hit and passing the joint to the broad shouldered man next to you.

“You're not driving down there for weed. You hear me?” Coryo sternly ordered before taking a deep hit off the joint.

“Then don't say you don't want me around, Coryo.” You countered, watching your dealer sexily blow a large billowing cloud of smoke from his perfect O shaped mouth.

“I didn't say that, babe.” Coryo snapped, his voice a bit hoarse from smoking weed all day (or at least you think he's been smoking all day). “I don't wanna have a heavy talk while smoking. Let's table this for now, yea?” He told you before taking a second, even longer hit from the joint perfectly pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

“Yea, my life's stressful enough.” You agreed, taking the offered joint from Coriolanus as soon as he exhaled a lungful of smoke.

Coryo didn't say a word, just leaned back into his couch and snaked an arm to rest behind you. He gave you a lazy thin lipped smile as you took your hit. His icy eyes, usually void of emotions, were shinning with fondness as he watched you instead of whatever bullshit was on his tv. 

A very nice large flatscreen that somebody gave him for payment. Fuck, the damn thing was worth nearly a grand since it was some top of the line Samsung smart tv. Snow knew it must've fallen out the back of a truck, but he didn't give a shit. Meant he didn't have to use he crappy tablet to watch stuff anymore.

But instead of watching tv, his attention was on you. God, Coriolanus loves watching you smoke. He thinks you're so sexy when you smoke. This cute, lil sweetheart taking in a large burning lungful and letting it waft out of your mouth expertly. 

It turned him on.

“It's not polite to stare, Coryo.” You remind the menacing man next to you, your tone a bit teasing, while passing him the joint after finishing your hits.

“I'm not staring, so don't know what your talking about.” He firmly denied, acting like he wasn't just caught ogling your gloss coated lips, while taking the joint.

You're starting to feel a bit hazy from the weed, unlike Coryo you don't smoke around the clock so a few hits mellows you out quickly, and lean your head against his shoulder.

“Your such a fucking lightweight.” The platinum blonde chuckles, shaking his head with a hint of an taunting smirk on his lips. 

“Not everyone can smoke and fuck all day, Snowball.”

“I don't smoke and fuck all day. I'll let you know that if I don't sling my shit then I ain't making any bank.” Coryo sneered, sounding a bit insulted by your remark, before taking a quick hit and holding the joint out to you.

Your fingertips brush over his, sending shockwaves through both of your buzzed bodies, as you take his offering. “You know, I'm still having a dry spell.” You reluctantly sigh between taking your two puffs and passing him back the joint.

Coryo's not stupid, he knows why you've been having problems finding somebody to hookup with let alone date. Word on the street is that he's sweet on you. That you’re Snowball's baby. Or at least Plinth and Creed, his only friends that are also dealers, told him that's the word.

Been the word since somebody saw you and him at some house party few weeks back- disappearing into a bathroom together for a good 15 minutes or so (yea, long enough to fuck).

“Maybe I can do something ‘bout it then, yea?”

“Maybe.” You coyly shrugged.

Even tho both you and Coryo knew that as soon as the joint turned into a roach; was snubbed into the ash trash, you'd be making out and undressing each other on his sofa.

“Hmmm…Coryo, that feels so good…” You loudly moan, feeling your cunt twitch and grow wetter, as you ride Coryo's cock.

Coryo's sucking on one of your titties while roughly squeezing the other in his large, calloused hand. His other hand is holding onto your ass like it's the most prized jewel into the entire world. 

“God, Coryo, I needed your cock so bad.” You admit to him, your voice nothing more than a pathetic mewl, as your wrap your arms around his neck- one hand pressing into the back of his platinum buzzcut while the other holds the back of his neck- while you leverage yourself to bounce faster on his dick.

His cock, very long and thick with veins that catch every velvety piece of your walls, fills your cunt up perfectly; turns you into a whinny mess. His tip hits against your cervix, causing the coil to begin to tighten inside of your lower body with every move. And the way his cock presses into your g-spot just right- oh fuck he's completely ruined you for men.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you're addicted to Coryo's cock. He's the only man that can fuck you just right. God, you would be all hot and bothered over your dealer.

Your nipple falls from Coryo's mouth with a loud, wet pop. He looks up at you, baby blues smoldering midnight with lust, and slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby. Ride my cock, ride my cock like the lil slut you are.” His hand slides over your chest, leaving one tit and going to kneed the other, as he lands two quick slaps to your ass. “Baby, your cunt feels so tight and good. Ride me, baby, ride me.”

“Fuck…Coryo…think I'm gonna cum.” You breathing tell him, forehead pressing down against his; hair curtains around your faces, as you grind your hips faster against his.

“Yea?” He asks, his voice heavy from lust and hoarse from smoking weed, as he places his hands on either of your hips. “Hold on, baby. I'll make ya cum.” Coryo tilts his chin up, sloppily kissing you, before digging his fingers into the meat of your hips and thrusting fast and hard up into you.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling your insides literally getting rearranged, as Coriolanus’ cock plunges deep inside of you. Deeper then you’ve ever felt it before (and that's saying something since the man’s cock always leaves an imprint in your lower stomach everytime you fuck) and it's making you see stars. 

Your arms are tightly wrapped around Coryo's neck in a vice grip as he pounds up into your cunt at such a strong, punishing pace. He's fucking you so hard and good that you can feel the rubber band inside of you get ready to snap. “Coryo…I'm gonna cum.” 

“Cum, baby. Be my good lil slut and cum on my cock.” Coryo orders, his baritone rough and raw, as he presses you against his chest while bucking his hips at lightning speed.

And you do. You cum hard, moaning a string of curses mixed with Coryo's name, before leaning limply against him and panting to catch your breath. Your head's pressed into the crook of his neck and he's now holding holding your back to keep you afloat while chasing his own high. Coryo pistons his cock in and out of you quickly before groaning a couple fucks and your name while shooting his hot load of thick pearly ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

“Damn…” Coryo trailed off, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Your head's still resting in the crook of his neck as you unwrap one of your arms from around his neck. Running your hand up and down his toned chest, you blurt out, “I'm hungry.”

“Of course, you get the munchies now.” Coryo scoffs, shaking his head. “I got some pizza rolls in the freezer, I'll nuke us some in a lil bit. Okay, babe?” He offered while trying to enjoy his blazed out afterglow moment with you. 

Honestly, he just wanted you to cockwarm him for a while because he didn't know when you'd be in that position again. 

And Coryo knows that he's going to have to cut you loose eventually. You're a liability in his line of work. Snow, the cold hearted drug dealer that doesn't think twice about popping a cap in somebody's ass, has a soft spot for you. Hell, to be honest he cares for you.

He cares a lot.

And that's dangerous. Feelings are a weakness that he can't afford in his life. The thought of you being used against him makes him sick.

And Coriolanus will never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him.

He knows that he'll have to cut you loose soon. Put his combat boot covered foot down; lay down some rules for the two of you to abide by. Something like he'll drop your weed off at your house then leave type of deal.

But right now, for a few minutes, he just wants to bask in your warmth.

And for right now, you're Snowball's baby.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @tian-monique @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | 11.7k | tags: pwp, friends to lovers, brief Steve/other, mutual pining, summary: Steve asks Eddie for help in fulfilling one of his fantasies. Eddie has no idea that he is the actual star of this fantasy | AO3)

“I have no idea where you get your weed but damn, this shit hits so much harder than the stuff I usually manage to score," Steve says, face pinched as he blows out the smoke, the pungent smell of it filling the small room, before handing it back to Eddie. They're sitting side by side on the bed, both holding beers, bodies already going lax against the mattress.

"You know I don't kiss and tell."

Steve snorts a laugh. "Since when? Just last week you got lost on a ten minute spiel about that guy giving you head during your lunch break dude."

Eddie’s eyes cut a sideways glance at Steve, lips already curling in a shiteating grin. “Yeah but we didn’t kiss, so my point still stands,” Eddie retorts, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve and they both burst out into high laughter. Steve's body tilts sideways into Eddie's, and instead of pushing him away, Eddie just adjusts his own position so they're leaning against each other more comfortably.

When their laughter subsides neither of them moves away, bodies too heavy with the weed and booze in their system. They’ve been friends for years and have found themselves in much more compromising positions. Friendly cuddling while high doesn’t even make the top ten, Eddie thinks lazily.

“So, anyone interesting happening since Lunch Break Guy?”

“I’m pretty sure his name was Matt. Or Mark? Something like that. And nah, had to help Wayne clean out my old room last weekend, remember? I’m still recovering from hauling boxes all day.”

“Awww did you haul them with your dick? Poor delicate flower.” Steve giggles at his own joke, petting at Eddie with the hand not holding the beer, movements already sluggish and uncoordinated. Steve is such a lightweight and Eddie wonders why he finds that so endearing.

“Asshole,” Eddie chuckles, swatting Steve’s hand away. “At least I didn’t hook up with a guy dressed up as Frankenstein."

"It was Halloween, Eddie." He can’t see his face but Eddie hears the eyeroll in Steve’s voice.

"Did you compare your freaking monster dicks?"

"You know we didn’t, you were the one walking in on us to make that exact same joke,” Steve snorts and Eddie feels it against the skin of his neck.

Once again, Eddie wonders if it's weird that they're so close. He knows Steve doesn't tell Robin half the shit he does when he's getting his rocks off, and they're platonic soul mates. He didn't tell Chrissy about Matt's? Mark's? tongue piercing, or how he swallowed about half of Eddie's load before he started coughing and got the rest all over their clothes, so Eddie had to call Steve to get him a change of clothes because he couldn't work in cum-stained jeans. And he's pretty sure that normal friends don't make out with each other when they get drunk or high either. But, like, whatever. Who needs normal when you can have Steve leaning on you like that, smelling of his expensive shampoo and weed.

Taking another hit from the blunt, Eddie holds the smoke in for a long moment, and just as he's about to blow it out, he feels Steve's hand on his jaw, turning his head down toward his open mouth, as if he'd been waiting for this very moment. So Eddie slots their mouths together and gives Steve what he wants, as he always does. Because it's Steve, and Eddie doesn't know how not to.

After they have both exhaled the smoke, Eddie gives Steve the blunt to put in the ashtray. Steve does so, but not before taking one last hit. It's their second joint of the night and they both feel it.

“What about you, Mr. Charming? Any new adventures I haven’t heard about?”

"I went to the Babylon the other day."

"Oh," Eddie says, drawing out the syllable as he looks down at Steve in surprise. "That's the one with a darkroom that has, like, another room behind it for the really kinky stuff, right?"

Steve laughs awkwardly, avoiding Eddie's eyes. "Yeah, that one, although I think that's a hoax."

"And how do you know that?" Eddie asks, before gasping dramatically, his hand pressed to his chest in mock indignation. "Steven! Did you go in the dark room?"

Instead of a snarky comeback, all Eddie gets is an almost timid nod.

Huh.

Steve almost never gets shy, didn't even blush when he walked in on Eddie eating out the bartender in their room when they went on vacation together last year. Simply told him to hurry up because he was tired before he went back outside.

Not in the least bothered by Steve's weird behavior, Eddie pokes Steve in his rips and asks excitedly, "How was it? Tell me everything."

He can feel Steve fidgeting where he's still pressed into Eddie’s body and he takes another sip of his beer before finally looking up at Eddie.

Steve's eyes are glassy from the weed, the white tinged with red and so dark they look bottomless, like Eddie could actually fall into them, lost forever. Fuck, Steve's right, the shit Rick sold him really hits hard.

"It was good. Like, really fucking good, y'know. Intense and, I dunno, a bit awkward at first, but then it was... yeah, just really good."

Eddie feels that Steve is not telling him something here. They may be high and buzzed, but that was a lot of good in Eddie's opinion. And Steve is still fidgeting.

"Sounds...good. You picked someone up at the club to fuck there?"

"Not...really."

As it turns out, Steve went in there alone, but he wasn't alone for long. Eddie listens with bated breath as Steve goes into more and more detail about dancing and drinking at the bar, about seeing people disappear behind a thick velvet curtain only to emerge long minutes later looking disheveled and satisfied. He tells Eddie about strolling over there himself, just to check it out so he could tell Eddie about it later, and about being surrounded by strangers, too dark to make out anything but the sounds of skin slapping against skin, ragged breathing, moans and whimpers filling the thick and humid air.

Eddie feels himself getting more and more turned on the longer he listens to Steve's low voice talking about lingering hands and mouths touching him everywhere, strangers grinding against him before he inevitably moved on. Eddie's already half hard, and when he looks down into Steve's lap, he sees the thick, hard outline of his cock in his sweatpants.

It's not as embarrassing as it should be. Steve has always been hot, Eddie has two functioning eyes and an active libido. It wouldn't be the first time he jerked off thinking about Steve, not even the first time Steve was present if asleep, but they never went further than a few heated make out sessions, sloppy kisses and some grinding before remembering their friendship and breaking apart.

Not that Eddie wouldn't drop everything and be on him in seconds if Steve asked, but that’s neither here nor there.

"And then this guy just grabbed me, he was strong and I wasn't expecting it, and then my face was pressed against the wall and he was on my back, rubbing against me, his dick thrusting against my ass, and -" Steve takes a deep breath and Eddie, realizing that he has been holding his breath all along, follows suit.

"And?" Eddie asks when the silence stretches.

Another deep inhale before Steve goes on. "And it was really hot, like, I've never been so hard in my life. I wanted him to, y'know, use me, just, uh, pull my jeans down and fuck me without me being able to do anything. Just… Making me take it, getting off fucking me and then walking away like I’m just some, I dunno, toy with his cum dripping out of me."

Eddie was biting his lip so hard he was sure he'd taste blood any second, but it was the only way he could hold back the moan that was trying to crawl out of his mouth. His dick had gone from half hard to so hard it almost hurt, and he was seconds away from pushing down his own sweats and jerking off to the way Steve talked about being used.

"But then, I don't know, my brain, like, panicked, and I pushed him off, and ran out of the room before I even knew I was going to do it."

Steve is decidedly not looking at Eddie, which is good, because Eddie has no idea what his face must look like right now. Probably as destroyed as he feels. He's pretty sure Steve has seen the way his sweats are tenting by now, but considering how obscenely Steve's dick is stretching the fabric of his own pants, Eddie thinks Steve doesn't have a leg to stand on. Eddie also felt the way Steve's hips squirmed as he recounted the way those strangers in the darkroom had touched him.

The silence between them grows and grows, sitting heavy on his chest, so Eddie clears his throat and asks, "So - was it, I mean," he exhales loudly, "did you, uh, like it?" Steve looks up at him, surprised by the question, and Eddie clarifies, "I mean before you panicked and ran out. Everything before that."

Chewing on his lower lip, Steve considers his questions and the air between them is so thick that Eddie feels like he's drowning. He swallows and watches, transfixed, as Steve's Adam's apple also bobs, a bead of sweat sliding past it as it moves.

"I mean, yeah. I did. It was hot, man, like I said. Especially the... the way they were just touching me, taking what they wanted. I didn't even know that I, uh, wanted that?” It isn’t often that Steve sounds unsure, at least when it comes to sex and hookups. So when Eddie hears his voice waver like that, like Steve is embarrassed to want something, his instincts to comfort and help start screaming at him.

Before he can do anything about it, like pull Steve against him and tell him it’s okay, Steve keeps going. “But it was too much… Too, I dunno, surprising? Like, I really wanna do that again, but like, with some precaution. So it feels safe and I can, uh, let go or something. Not panic again because that sucked man.”

Steve finishes his beer and drops the empty bottle on the floor next to Eddie's bed. Usually he would bitch about it, just because it's what he always does, but tonight is not like most of their ‘boys’ nights’, as Robin calls them mockingly. Eddie is a little lost and a lot turned on right now and he thinks it would be best for him if their conversation ended here.

If only it was that easy when you have the impulse control of a toddler and can’t leave things very well alone.

"But you fucked strangers before. Like two weeks ago I watched you pick up some random guy to fuck in your car before coming back in for another beer. I helped you get out the cum stains the next day, too."

"I know, I know. It's not that. It's - you remember Clive?"

"Ugh, that asshole." Eddie says with feeling.

Steve chuckles against Eddie's neck and moves even closer, soothing Eddie's annoyance with the contact. God, but he hated that guy who had treated Steve like shit. He had been mean and condescending, and Steve had always looked subdued, almost small, in the days after their hookups.

"Yeah, that one. You hate him, he was a dick, I know. But he, well. He fucked me like this once, pinned me down on the bed, caged me in, ass up, face pressed into the pillow so I could barely breathe, and pounded me so hard I was covered in bruises the next day. Said some nasty shit too, man, and I felt so dirty but also so fucking turned on that I came without a hand on me.”

Steve squirms and fidgets next to him, his body moving against Eddie's in small increments, and Eddie thinks Steve doesn't even realize he's doing it, lost in his memories and the typical weed horniness. "I want this, but, y'know, like, with more."

Eddie actually chokes on his spit at that, stammering, "More?"

"Yeah," Steve says, pushing his face into Eddie's neck like that's the last straw, the thing that's too embarrassing to say out loud. "Like, when I think about it, I'm completely helpless. Hands tied, legs spread with a bar so I couldn't close them even if I wanted to.”

Eddie can't help it, he's got to do something or he'll actually die of Steve-induced sexual frustration. He shifts slightly on his right side, towards Steve, so that he can push his left leg over his right, pressing it down enough to relieve at least some of the pressure. Still, the sensation of any kind of friction against his aching dick makes him clench his hands into fists, his whole body tense.

His next words sound strained to his own ears. "So why not... do it with someone else? I mean, I've seen you at clubs and parties, Stevie, you'd have no problem finding someone willing to do, uh, that."

"True. But it doesn't feel safe. What if, y'know, the guy is, like, a serial killer or something? I've watched enough crime shows with you to know that happens!"

Eddie doesn't say anything, just takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Because seriously, Steve is right, it's super fucking risky and if he's honest, he doesn't want to think about Steve in that kind of danger. He'd go crazy worrying about him.

They're both silent and Eddie's thoughts are racing, the mellowness that usually comes with getting high gone. Replaced by more and more images of Steve flashing behind his eyelids.

Steve on a bed, Steve bent over a table, Steve on some faceless guy. Hands and mouths and teeth all over Steve’s body, his beautiful hazel eyes wide and wet, his face slack with pleasure. His gorgeous dick dripping with need.

Steve, Steve, Steve.

"Can you be there?"

His thoughts come to a screeching halt as his eyes widen in shock. What?

"What?"

"Well, no one would try anything if someone was looking out for me. Also, I could let go knowing you're there. I know you'll keep me safe."

Which, yeah. Eddie would. He would always make sure Steve was safe. It's himself, his heart, that he doesn't trust to be safe when he's there.

"What are you saying here, Steve?"

"I dunno, just that when I think about it. Think about being naked and tied to a bed, all helpless and shit, and there is some guy fucking me however he wants. Use me however he wants… I just. I want that, been thinking about it so much since that night at the Babylon. And you're always..." Steve's hand clenches and unclenches against Eddie's arm. "I want you there. To watch out for me. Make sure I'm still safe, that he doesn't really hurt me. Like, y'know, a safety blanket."

Jesus fucking Christ. He'll never let Steve near his weed again. Not if it ends with Steve tucked into his side, that familiar heat spreading from all the places their bodies touch, both hard in their sweatpants, while Steve talks about Eddie being his goddamn safety blanket while he gets railed by a stranger.

Still, Steve so rarely asks for anything that Eddie wants to do this for him, as fucked up as it sounds. He’s always been a freak and it seems Steve’s right there with him.

Before Eddie can make up his mind, however, Steve lifts his head and chuckles in a way that sounds forced. "Sorry, never mind, it's the weed talking, just forget it."

With that, he untangles himself from Eddie and stands up, his hard dick very obviously tenting his sweats as he turns away from the bed and towards the door. "I'm gonna get another beer, you want one?"

Looking at Steve's back and the tense line of his shoulders, Eddie says, "Yeah, sure.”

Read the rest on AO3

[chrisbitchtree]

But I Realized That I Need You

It may be my birthday today, but per my now annual tradition, I'm gifting you guys with Harringrove fic!

2.2k - T

***

Steve knew that he should just feel lucky that he’d had the amazing summer that he’d had. It was a million years away from what he’d imagined as he waited to be called to accept his diploma at graduation, which was scooping ice cream for bratty kids at the mall by day and sitting alone in his room counting down the weeks, days, hours until his dad forced him to grow up and join his company, put on a suit, tie around his neck like a noose, and get a real job.

Finally, his name was called, and the principal gave him a firm handshake and a rolled-up piece of paper, which he’d managed to earn only by the skin of his teeth, and with a lot of late nights spent studying with the reluctant help of Billy Hargrove, who’d turned out to be just as good an English tutor as Steve’s teacher had promised he would be.

He’d helped Steve understand the book he had to read for his exam, and in exchange Steve had handed him a hefty cheque from his father, which Billy had pocketed with a sneer, and Steve thought that would be the last time they’d have to interact, if he was lucky. It’s not like they’d be running in the same circles once Steve fled Hawkins High for good.

But of course, Steve hadn’t accounted for the possibility that his new coworker, Robin, would have secretly landed one of the hottest girls in school, Heather Holloway, or that when Steve got back from the fancy steakhouse graduation dinner that his parents had insisted on dragging him to, Robin would call him and ask him to hang out with her and Heather, or that when he’d get to Robin’s house, Billy, Heather’s new coworker at the pool, would be there too, changing the course of his entire summer.

Things hadn’t gone well that first night, both Steve and Billy trying to leave before Heather had told them to stop acting like children, sit their asses down, and watch the movie. They’d bickered through the first half of it, at which point Heather paused the movie and tried to force them to both leave, but Steve was stubborn and so was Billy, so they’d shut their mouths and sat in silence until it ended.

Neither had stayed very long after, but the ice started to thaw between them the more they all hung out, as Steve realized that if he wanted to hang out with Robin, which he did, he’d have to deal with Billy being there too, so he might as well try to make the best of it.

He’d say that it was Billy’s turn to pick the movie when it wasn’t or let him pick the third topping on their shared pizza, and he’d compliment Billy’s rings or his hair. Slowly, Billy started to reciprocate. He’d grab Steve a beer when he was getting another for himself, or he’d offer him the last hit off the joint, and when he’d come into Scoops with Heather, he’d not only pay for his ice cream, but he’d also leave Steve a tip.

Then, one night, while they were hanging out at Steve’s house, Robin and Heather went off to find a room for some alone time, leaving Billy and Steve out at the pool. One minute, they were engaging in their ongoing debate about whether Steve should be able to play Madonna on his own stereo system while he had guests over, and the next, Billy was kissing him.

It wasn’t a particularly nice kiss, given that Steve was blindsided by it and didn’t even have time to react before Billy was pushing away and running for the gate from the backyard to the front. Steve sat stunned for a minute before he realized that if Billy was headed for the driveway, he was most likely going to drive drunk, so he hopped up and followed him.

He finally caught up to him just as Billy was opening the door to his car. “Billy, wait,” Steve said, placing a hand on the other boy’s shoulder. “You don’t need to go, it’s ok. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Won’t tell anyone what?,” Billy replied. “That you tried to kiss me?”

Steve sighed. Oh great, so that’s how this was going to go. Whatever, he’d agree to almost anything if it meant that Billy wasn’t going to drive right after having six beers. “Sure, yeah, if you just come back with me and sober up, I won’t tell anyone that I tried to kiss you.”

Billy nodded. “Ok then, yeah.” He closed the car door and followed Steve back into the backyard. Steve went into the house and grabbed a tall glass of water and a bag of chips, and they sat in silence while Billy drank and ate.

Neither of them mentioned what had happened, but just three days later, they kissed again, this time in Heather’s basement while Heather was out picking up Robin from work. Neither of them had really initiated it that time, both just meeting in the middle. They didn’t even notice that they had company, as wrapped up in each other as they were, making out like their lives depended on it on the loveseat until Robin flashed the lights, telling them to get a room, and Heather congratulated them on finally getting their shit together.

Their faces flushed, hair a mess, and their lips kiss swollen, they reluctantly pulled apart, and Steve willed his dick to go down, thinking of his elderly math teacher, Ms. Cotes, and the smelly garbage he had to take out when he got home. Finally decent, they sat up, a pizza was ordered, and a movie put on the tv, and the night went on like usual. The only difference was how close Billy sat to Steve, practically in his lap.

It wasn’t something that was really discussed amongst the four of them, but now that Robin and Heather could trust that Billy and Steve could be left alone together for over an hour without trying to kill each other, the nights they all hung out were clearly divided into two parts.

Either they’d swim or watch a movie and have dinner or snacks, and then separate into pairs to find empty rooms, or they’d do the opposite, none of them willing to wait to be alone with their significant other.

Over the next couple months, Steve got to know Billy in ways that he never thought he would. He mapped every inch of his body with his hands and lips and tongue and got to experience the incredible pleasure of being inside Billy and having Billy inside him.

He also told Billy about his broken relationship with his parents, and about his fear for his directionless future, how he was scared that he’d die never having amounted to anything, and he listened as Billy told him about the pain of losing his mother, and the horrific abuse from his father, and how it felt like no one in this world truly loved him. Steve wasn’t brave enough to say it, but he knew that couldn’t be true because he loved Billy so much it hurt.

Late one night, in the heat of the moment, they’d made the decision to become an official couple. Steve had a boyfriend, and his boyfriend was Billy Hargrove. He still couldn’t believe it, and he couldn’t be happier.

Which was why it was so painful to think that he’d now have to break things off with Billy, but Steve knew it was the right thing to do. Billy was about to start his senior year of high school, he was almost certainly going to be the captain of the basketball team, and he was going to be applying to colleges, and he’d need to keep his grades up so that he could get scholarships to help pay for school. Plus, he’d probably want to spend his weekends at parties and was picking up a part time job at a garage now that the pool would be closing for the year. He didn’t need a hopeless loser like Steve hanging around and fucking things up for him, dragging him down.

Steve had tried to delay the inevitable as long as possible, but the evenings were getting chillier, the sun setting earlier, so Steve knew it was time. Not wanting to cause a scene in front of Robin and Heather, Steve had asked Billy to come over to his house so they could hang out just the two of them. Hearing the doorbell ring, Steve took a deep breath and stood to rip off the band aid.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Billy greeted Steve, a smile as bright as the sun on his face. Fuck, of course he had to look so happy. That was only going to make things harder.

“Hey,” Steve replied, closing the door behind Billy as he stepped inside. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” Billy said, a frown replacing his smile as he took in Steve’s tone.

They sat down in the living room and Steve decided to just spit it out. “I’m sorry Billy, but I think we need to break up.” He continued on with his list of reasons for ending things and finished by saying he’d always be happy for the summer that they shared. He couldn’t keep the tears from his eyes by the end.

He braced himself for Billy to yell or storm out, but to Steve’s surprise, the other boy started laughing. He squinted through his tears, failing to understand what could possibly be funny about this. “Did you hear me, Billy?” he asked. Billy just laughed harder. Yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe Billy had misunderstood what Steve was telling him. Oh god, he was going to have to go through it all again.

“Billy, I’m breaking up with you.” He said it slower this time, hoping Billy would catch on.

“I know, princess, I heard you the first time,” Billy smiled, taking Steve’s shaking hands in his own. “I’m not accepting the breakup though. You say that this is what’s best for us, but did you ever ask me what I wanted? If I thought this was the best thing for me?”

Steve shook his head, more tears falling.

“Exactly,” Billy continued. “You never once asked me, and if you had, I would have told you that that’s definitely not what’s best. I hate that you’re making me get all emotional, but did you know that since dating you, it’s the first time I’ve felt a real sense of hope about things since my mom died? I can’t help smiling every time I think about you. It’s disgusting.

I can’t imagine a future without you, Steve. I was going to ask you to move to California with me next year. Well, I’m still going to ask, actually. Since you know, you’re still my boyfriend. And if you’re my boyfriend, I think it stands to reason that I’m still yours. You’re gonna look pretty fucking stupid when you’re out at the bar trying to pick up chicks with your boyfriend hanging off your arm, don’t you think? And imagine moving in with some girl, getting married, starting a family, and there’s your boyfriend in the room down the hall. Are you gonna tell her goodnight, then come cuddle with me? I don’t think that’s going to fly with anyone, so I think it might just be best to stick with me, ok?”

Steve shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, I know what you’re saying, but trust me, it’s better this way. Just go.”

Billy stood, walked to the door, and slipped on his shoes. “Alright then, if you’re really sure, I’ll go.”

“I’m sure,” Steve said. “Just go.”

Without another word, Billy left.

Steve stood in the silence, his weeping echoing in the cavernous room. For a minute, he was able to tell himself that he’d done the right thing. He’d done Billy a favour. Then he realized what a fucking idiot he was and went sprinting for the door, hoping he could catch Billy before he was gone. He ran out to the driveway only to find Billy sitting in his car, watching the door, a small smile on his face.

He stepped back out when he saw Steve and walked back up to the house.

“Thought I told you to go,” Steve grumbled, even though he couldn’t be happier to see Billy right now.

“I know, but I figured I should wait around for a bit. I had a funny feeling you might make your way out here eventually, and I wanted to be here when you did. Like I said before, whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me. I’m not breaking up with you.”

Steve nodded, too shocked to say anything as he let Billy wrap him in a hug.

After a minute, he steered Steve back into the house, where he got him a tissue then they sat on the couch as he rubbed soothing circles on Steve’s back. “Next time you decide to make a decision for both of us, consult me, ok, pretty boy?”

“Yeah,” Steve choked out, laughing through what were now tears of joy as he held Billy closer, tighter, vowing to never try to let him go again. “Yeah, ok, I’ll ask my boyfriend next time. I promise.”

[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Ten - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, and Chapter Nine! Masterlist :)

Chapter Ten - You Look Like You Love Me

After Tyler got the fire going, which took him a good half hour, he came back inside to see you curled up on the couch with his flannel on. You had your elbow on the armrest and your head in your hand. He slid his phone out of his pocket and quickly snapped a picture of you that he would later change to be his lock screen photo. 

While you were catching up on some much-needed sleep, he went down to the tiny basement, which doubled as a storm shelter, to rummage through the deep freezer to see what you both could make over the fire. It was either hot dogs or brats, he just had to find them. 

You stirred hearing the commotion, rubbing your eyes and stretching your arms up. You glanced around the room to not see Tyler anywhere. You stood up and walked over to the side door and out by the fire. Since you had gone to the truck it had already cooled off outside a substantial amount where even being in his flannel was still comfortable. You saw two chairs set up and a cooler which you hoped was filled with beer. 

You plopped yourself down in the chair, peeking into the cooler and smiling when a 12-pack greeted you. You grabbed one out of the wet cardboard and popped the cap off and into the fire. The radio was playing softly behind you, but instead of an oldies station, it was a new country station. 

You grabbed one of the shorter logs that was still intact and propped your boots up on it, leaning back into the chair and listening to the male radio host announce the next song. 

“Up next is You Look Like You Love Me which was released recently by Ella Langley and Riley Green,” he said, fading the song in. 

You rocked your feet on the log to the beat of the song and took a drink of the beer. 

“I was all but 22, I think at the time, I’d been out on the road, lonely at night,” Ella sang, “And it’d been a while, so it was on my mind. Well, I saw him walk in, with his cowboy hat,  and I thought to myself, I could use some of that.” 

You didn’t mind the song, but you knew it had been overplayed since its release. After hearing it lord knows how many times, it started to rub off on you. 

“His boots like glass on a sawdust floor, huh, had moves like nothing I’d ever seen before, so I walked right up,” the song played on, “And I pulled him to the side, I handed that man a beer and looked him in the eyes, and I said, baby, I think you’re gonna wanna hear this.” 

“Then I told him,” you sang, “Excuse me, you look like you love me, you look like you want me to want you to come on home.” 

You sipped your beer and hummed along to the rest of the chorus, as you didn’t know many of the words aside from what you’d caught on the radio and online. 

You were so into watching the flames dance with each other, the crackling of the fire soothing your mind, you didn’t hear Tyler come out of the shack and up behind you. 

“Well, I was down at a local beer joint with a few of the guys, when this cute little country girl caught my eye,” Riley sang, “And boy, let me tell you, she was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in a pair of boots.” 

“Well, she walked right up to me, handed me a beer, gave me a look like, let’s get out of here,” Tyler sang behind you, “And that’s when I realized that she was every cowboy’s dream come true.” 

You gasped slightly, Tyler’s all of a sudden appearance scaring you until he kissed your cheek. 

“Why must you do that, I’m too young for a heart attack!” You said, playfully hitting his arm as he walked over to the picnic table. 

“Because seeing you all flustered is cute,” he said, setting the hot dogs down, “So, a slight dilemma.” 

“And what’s that besides my spike in heart rate?” You asked, leaning back into your chair. 

“We have no buns or bread for the hot dogs, so hopefully you’re good with an un-bunned dog,” he said, grabbing the roasting sticks. 

“It’s food. I’d rather have an un-bunned dog than an un-dogged bun,” you said, sipping your beer. 

“Ain’t that the truth,” he laughed while walking over to you and grabbing himself a beer. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the night with me?” You asked, looking over at him. 

“I figured we’d enjoy some fire-roasted hot dogs, enjoy a couple of beers, star gaze then head back to Prairie Winds,” he said softly, “Then start all over again tomorrow.” 

“We’re doing all of this again tomorrow?” You asked, almost choking on your beer. 

“Only if you want to, darlin’,” he said, looking at you. 

“I wouldn’t mind breakfast again,” you said, “But I need to plan a trip to Texas to see my parents soon…” 

“You make it sound like that’s a problem,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Yes and no,” you sighed, “Every time I’ve been back they pressure me about them not getting any younger, how come I haven’t found someone, where are their grandkids.” 

“Well, you can tell them you’ve found someone,” he said with a smirk.

“I’ve tried telling them that before, they didn’t believe me since the guy wasn’t with me,” you said, “And in all honestly I lied to them to try and get them off my back before I snapped and lost it.” 

“When do you want to leave?” He asked, “I’ll even let you drive me Lil Blue.” 

“W-What?” You asked, spitting your beer out, “You want to go meet my parents?”

“Honey, let’s get this straight right now,” he said, looking you in the eye, “After that kiss we shared that got my heart beatin’ faster than when I’m in the middle of a tornado, I plan to spend the rest of my life on Earth with you and only you.” 

Your breath hitched listening to him, you never had anyone tell you that before and mean it. With how he said it and his eyes full of love, you knew he meant it. You smiled slightly at him and hung your head down, a couple of tears sneaking out from your eyes. 

“Hey, hey, now lil lady, why are you cryin’?” He asked, setting his beer down and coming to kneel on one knee in front of you. 

“I-I’ve just,” you sighed, then took a deep breath, “I’ve never had anyone say that to me in such a loving manner.” 

“Well you just did, and you better believe it,” he said, lifting your chin slowly with one hand and using the other to wipe your tears, “And you better get used to it because I will tell you every day if I have to.” 

“I really don’t know what I did to deserve such a wonderful…crazy, but wonderful man treat me like this,” you said, trying to laugh while holding back tears. 

“You were just bein’ you, baby,” he said, giving you a smile and a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“I was so wrong about you,” you said softly, putting a hand on his chest as he held his kiss on your head. 

“That’s a good thing, right?” He asked, chuckling. 

You softly laughed, “Yeah, it is, babe.” 

“I’m going to start roastin’ these dogs,” He said while standing up and walking to the table where the dogs were now semi-unfrozen. 

“Think you could turn the radio up a smidge?” You asked, getting comfy in your seat again. 

“Anythin’ for my girl,” he said, leaning over and turning the dial up slightly. 

“So you’d really come to my parents with me?” You asked, looking over at him. 

“In a heartbeat.” He said, turning around with a couple of hot dogs on each stick. 

“When would you want to go?” You asked, playing with your fingers.

“Whenever you’d want to,” he said, scooting his chair closer and holding the sticks over the flames. 

“I’ll talk to my mom later, but maybe next week? Just kind of get it done and over with?” You suggested, looking at your watch with it displaying 5:47 pm, “As I’m sure they’re already settling down for the night. Cattle farmer life and all.” 

“Just let me know so I can put Dani in charge of the team,” he said, smiling over at you, “We could stop by my aunts on the way if you wanted to since I’m meetin’ your family and all.” 

“If you wanted to, I wouldn’t want to overstep or anything,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Darlin’,” he said, “What did we just talk about?” 

“Still, Ty,” you said, “It might take me a bit to work through all the trauma I’ve been through…” 

“I know,” he said, “Of course, I want you to meet my family because you are or will be a part of it.” 

“Okay, we can do that then,” you said, “Leave Monday afternoon or something?” 

“Sounds like a plan to me, baby,” he said with a smile, “I can’t wait.” 

Want more? Here's Chapter Eleven!

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719 @ummmeg

[sloppysequinz]

Ideal life of a working slob

Work from home had been a game changer.

It started small. Who would care if she had a beer in the last half hour of the day? It's not like anyone called that late. What about the last half hour of every day? And then it just...moved back earlier and earlier. Now she doesn't work without a beer on her desk.

Now when her coworkers get on her nerves, she just turns off the camera and lights up. She can just blame it on bandwidth issues. They think her internet is shitty and don't ask any further, and it's not like they can hear her smoking. Her brain melts and their voices go fuzzy. As long as she puts on a shirt and makes an appearance every so often, her coworkers assume she's paying attention. Her beer belly sits in her lap over beer-stained sweatpants, when she bothers to put on pants.

Cans litter her floor, and the butts have piled up in her ashtray. What does it matter? No one comes over and her coworkers can't see. The room stinks of weed and beer but she's long since gone nose blind--if she were ever sober enough to care, she wouldn't notice.

They deliver beer now. They deliver weed. They deliver food. She set up a recurring beer delivery, two 30 racks every Sunday. The delivery guys might judge her, but who knew--it was a different guy every time. There were so many options on the dispensary website that she could never get through them all, so she just picked whatever would get her the most volume for her money.

The data gets entered, she gets paid, and her paycheck is funneled into feeding her addictions. A perfect setup. Sitting in her desk chair, wearing just panties and a tank top, tits and beer belly spilling out, she chugged her fourth beer of the day. She could vaguely hear her boss in her headphones praising her for hitting her targets. She blearily muted her mike, burped, and lit another joint. This was the life.

[bitchinfawkseh]

Vegas Wedding

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Daryl Dixon x Female Reader PRE-APOC

Summary: It's 1990 and you just graduated high school, as a celebration, you and Daryl go to Las Vegas. The next morning, you wake up naked in bed with him after drinking way too much the previous night, but you also have a ring on your finger... a wedding ring.

Word Count: 2341

[A/N] I've been working on this for like a year lols

A spur of the moment Las Vegas trip with your best friend was definitely not something you should have done with little to no funds. You both just graduated high school - well - you did, Daryl dropped out junior year. And the two of you thought it may be fun to drive out to Vegas for the weekend to celebrate your newfound freedom.

The bright neon lights of Vegas were pretty overwhelming from even the car. You stared out the window at the scenery "I wonder how many hookers are working here." You muttered under your breath causing Daryl to snort. You glanced over at your friend, watching as his grip on the steering wheel tightened and he tried to bite back the smile growing on his face. You smiled too. "What?"

He spared you a quick glance before grinning "Don' let anyone else hear ya say tha'. Alrigh'?"

You giggled and nodded "Okay, okay. I won't."

He gestured towards the bottle of rum you were holding onto. "Pass me tha'."

You cocked a brow and crossed your arms "What's the magic word?"

Daryl shot you a glare "Please." You smiled sweetly at him before passing him the over half empty bottle. The sight of your smile made his heart flutter and sent warmth to his cheeks. He was lucky he was drinking right now, otherwise he'd have nothing else to blame for the extensive blush on his cheeks. Daryl finished off the rest of the bottle before tossing it into the back seat.

You rolled down the window just a bit, the cool night breeze hitting your face as you did. You closed your eyes and felt immediate relief as it washed over your heated form. The AC in Daryl's car didn't work, and it didn't help that everything he did made you so horny. "Did you book a hotel?" You asked. He hummed out what sounded like a yes, you had fake credit cards, and he had fake IDs. Although he didn't really use his ID, you two just stole most of the alcohol you got from your parents.

You glanced over at him, his eyes were trained on the road ahead of him. There was a cigarette between his lips and every so often he would exhale a cloud of smoke. It didn't bother you, hell, you smoked too on occasion. It was the 90s, everyone did. "Gimme a hit." You muttered as you scooted closer to him. Daryl grinned slightly before taking a hand off the steering wheel and taking it out of his mouth to rest between his fingertips. "Wha's the magic word?"

You wrinkled your nose at him "Please?" He then passed the moe to you and you took a long drag before blowing the smoke out the open window.

Once you arrived at the hotel (one that you spent way too much money on) you both started to drink more than you have already. The Labyrinth was playing on the small box TV that sat on the dresser in the room. You and Daryl sat side by side on the bed, you were sipping on a beer and he had some cheap whiskey. You swayed a bit and looked up at Daryl. He had a joint between his fingers, courtesy to his older brother Merle.

"Blow it in my face." You instructed as you closed your eyes. Daryl's brows furrowed and he leaned closer to you. "Are ya sure?"

"Yes." You said, confirming it with a small nod. It was a few more seconds before the cloud of marijuana hit your face and you didn't spare a single minute to inhale deeply. Your eyes fluttered open and he was staring right at you, it was a little difficult to figure out what he was feeling. He hid his emotions so well… and right now he looked quite dazed. Like he was thinking about something. Your lips quirked up "What?" You asked as you cocked your head to the side. You thought you saw his eyes dip down to your lips before back to your face. "Nothin'." Daryl muttered.

Your brows raised. "Do you want to kiss me?"

Daryl swallowed hard and shook his head "Nah, forget about it." He grunted. Heat rose in your cheeks and you purse your lips together. You glanced down at your bare thighs, you were just wearing a short night dress and a hoodie. Your mother would kill you if she found out you were alone with a boy, "half naked" in a hotel room. She would probably die herself if she knew it was a Dixon boy too. She told you time and time again that those boys are nothing but trouble and to stay away from them. "I want to kiss you." You whispered softly. You were much too shy to look at him now - you didn't know how he'd react - whether he'd look at you in disgust or just get up and leave.

"Ya…" He trailed off as you glanced up at him. Daryl rubbed the back of his neck and a muscle in his jaw twitched. "Ya don' mean that." Your brows knitted together and your lips parted. "I do." You said firmly. It may or may not be the alcohol giving you a false sense of confidence right now. "Yer drunk." Daryl mumbled.

"So are you."

Daryl's heart felt like it was about to pound right out of his chest - the girl he's liked since freshman year, you wanted to kiss him. What if you were only saying this because you were intoxicated? He didn't want you to regret it later - he cared about you too much for that.

You let out a tiny huff and crawled onto your knees, the plush duvet of the bed rubbed against them. You were now at eye level with Daryl, you puffed out your bottom lip in a pleading manner. "Kiss me, Daryl. Please?"

Your whole "please" and "what's the magic word" spiel started during winter break of freshman year. All because he watched as your dad said that to you after you asked if he could also give Daryl a ride home (your father liked Daryl despite how his dad and brother acted.) Your dad actually thought that Daryl was a nice kid after asking him a series of invasive questions. Now that didn't mean that he was okay with the possibility of you two being alone together, having the door shut while you hung out - none of that. He said privacy led to sex, and sex led to babies - and he wasn't going to have a pregnant teenager in the house.

The last thing you remember is him pressing his lips against yours gently.

Sun poked through the blinds, shining directly onto your face. You squinted and let out a low groan as the immediate pounding headache hit you. What the hell happened last night? You were suddenly aware of the fact that you were naked, your eyes widened and you lifted the sheets to peek at yourself. No weird tattoos or piercings…

Someone deeply exhaled from beside you and shifted slightly. You glanced over and sucked in a sharp breath as you saw him. Daryl - he was in bed with you- he also appeared to be naked - but you weren't about to check. You could only assume that you had sex with your best friend last night in a drunken haze. "Oh my God…" You whispered. A deep heat settled in your cheeks and stomach. "Oh my God!" You said once again, a little louder this time. Daryl's eyes snapped open at the sound of your voice - you seemed panicked. He was immediately aware of the fact that you were naked and that he was as well. Daryl sat up abruptly "Son of a bitch!"

You frantically pulled the sheets up to cover your chest. "Oh my God!" You repeated for the third time. Your heart was practically pounding out of your chest - it felt like you were about to die really.

Everything that happened last night started to hit you all at once. Your stomach was in knots - your heart was pounding in your ears. "We got eloped?!" You yelled in a state of panic. You eloped and had sex with him - all because you got drunk and high!

"Don't look at me!" You yelled at him. Daryl quickly turned his head away from you, his cheeks were tinted pink with embarrassment. "'M sorry." He grunted. You scrambled to put on a hoodie and sweats, he was drunk when he saw your naked body - he may not remember how it exactly looked and he sure as hell wasn't going to get another look right now.

You turned your back towards him and clenched and unclenched your fists. Your nails dug into your palms, making moon marks in them. "Okay, you can put on some clothes now." Daryl didn't say anything but you could hear some rustling and some quiet grumbling. He always got all grumbly when he was embarrassed or upset. It's a cute trait of his, he wouldn't even be saying anything most of the time. Just complete gibberish masked with grumbling. "Turn aroun'." He mumbled. You closed your eyes and exhaled slowly before turning. He was wearing what he was yesterday when you guys got here, grey t-shirt and dark denim jeans. Presumably, he just grabbed them off the floor, not caring to put on clean clothes.

"We-." You began.

He cut you off. "Yeah." He muttered. Your brows furrowed and you crossed your arms. Daryl interrupting you was a bit of a piss off, although the whole situation was also a piss off. But a part of you felt relieved that you had sex with him, even if you didn't remember it - you hoped it at least was good. But getting married to him!? That was extreme - out of the question, he probably didn't even like you. Maybe this could be the first step towards sharing your feelings with him… "We should talk about it." Daryl groaned and sat on the edge of the bed, talking wasn't his strong suit. "Wha's there to talka 'bout? Pre obvious wha' we did."

That made you roll your eyes and sit down beside him, giving just enough space so none of your limbs touched. "Not that. I mean our- our feelings." You said. Daryl stayed silent, meaning you were the one who was supposed to start talking. Just wonderful.

You spun on your heel as the beat dropped in the current song you were listening to - bottle of whiskey in hand. Daryl grabbed your hand and made you turn to face him. "Hey." He mumbled. His lips ghosted over yours and you were quick to stop dancing. Ever since he kissed you - the two of you were all over each other. You grinned against his lips and your eyes fluttered shut, "What?"

"Stop movin', I can't kiss ya when yer wigglin' around." He said before pressing his lips to yours. He tasted like cigarettes - and alcohol, but it tasted so good. He tasted amazing.

Daryl kissed you for a couple more seconds before pulling away. Your grin widened "You like kissing your best friend?" You asked softly. He hesitated before nodding, your expression fell and your brows furrowed. "You don't like kissing me?" Your voice was strained, you hoped it wasn't true. He quickly shook his head and his eyes met yours, "Nah - I do. It's just I don'... I don' wantcha to be my friend. I wantcha to be my girl." Daryl mumbled under his breath. Your eyes widened and your lips parted in surprise, he wanted you to be his girlfriend? You wanted it too - but you also wanted more. "What about your wife?"

Now it was Daryl's turn to be surprised, you wanted to marry him - you wanted to be his wife and you wanted him to be your husband. He wasn't husband material, he wasn't sure he was going to be a good boyfriend to you - let alone husband.

He scoffed, "Ya don't want a church or sum? Big fancy weddin'?" You shook your head and kissed him firmly to show him you meant it. "No, I just want you."

"Ya don't wanna marry me." Daryl said. You pressed a finger to his lips and tilted your head slowly. "Yes I do." You whispered. You leaned closer to him, your smile widening. "I'm sure there's an Elvis wedding chapel close by."

It didn't take much more to convince him to go to the closest wedding chapel.

“Vegas’ wedding laws should be much more strict.” You muttered as you peer at the cheap ring on your left hand. It's silver with intricate details on the band, and it has a cluster of gems that resemble a blocky heart. Daryl hums in agreement and you glance up at him, part of you wondered if he regrets marrying you. You swallow hard and square your shoulders as if trying to build confidence to ask him this. “Daryl,” you breathe and he looks at you almost immediately. The sound of his name on your lips is like an angel’s cry. He wasn't much for romantics, but it doesn't mean he doesn't think it occasionally. Finally, you ask the question: “do you regret marrying me?”

Daryl falls silent and angles to stare at the floor, he doesn't regret it - not one bit. He never pictured marrying you, he always thought you'd marry some rich guy and pop out a buncha babies; but, you being his and him being yours makes him happy. Gingerly, he sets his hand over top of yours, feeling the gem from your ring against his palm as he entwined your fingers. “Nah, I don’.”

You smile wide and glance down at your hands, relief filling you and his words making your heart flutter. He doesn't regret marrying you - he wants to stay with you.

Hopefully mom and dad won't be too upset that you are Mrs Dixon now.

[wroteclassicaly]

The Show

(Eddie Munson x Female Reader)

Summary: You really love putting on a good show for Eddie.

Warnings: Language, Eddie with a slight breeding and daddy kink, NSFW, and masturbation.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: I just came up with this on a whim and I’ve been working on it for a few days. It’s not my best, but I hope some of y’all like it, at least? I have more stuff coming soon! Love y’all, and enjoy!? ;)

~*~

Everything he does has you on the edge of a jagged precipice, body taking hits from all sides, completely engulfed. Today is another normal Indiana day in your supernatural town, but it’s a quiet one. Well, for others anyways… Your brain is loud, screaming on behalf of your body to be satiated. You and your boyfriend Eddie Munson are usually attached at the hip, sans individual activities (whether it be for yourselves or with friends), and today he happens to have band practice.

It doesn’t matter to you, as he’s been prone to having surprise sessions with his gang. After he gave you his half for a shared dinner celebration for getting through another week (thank fuck for pizza), you’d agreed to go straight to his place and chill. Wayne was already gone for the night and you liked to go through Eddie’s things and have fun, so it was a no brainer. With a quick trip to the grocery to grab some beer and sodas, followed by a pizza pick up—you trekked your way to the Munson household with a pep in your step. Eddie had told you to go ahead and eat, but you settled on putting the box into the fridge for later, sliding in a few sodas for you and two beers for your guy.

~*~

The journey down the trailer’s hallway is a short one, amusement lacing your tone as you push open Eddie’s door and are immediately greeted with the wafting scent of this morning’s joint, his old spice, and the musty baseboard heater packing its rickety punch.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you purr, stepping towards that delicious guitar hanging from his cluttered mirror. “It’s not your daddy, but I’m here.”

Closing the door behind you, you toss your tattered bag on the bean bag chair you’d bought for the room a few weeks ago, already making a beeline for Eddie’s skull littered bandana on his nightstand. Lifting the object, you tie it around your forehead and sidestep to the full length he’d also recently hung on the wall (per your request). You spin around a few times and purse your lips, blowing the cheesiest kiss in history. “Ah, yes.” You giggle and head to the stereo and mess of tapes shrouding its entirety. You know what’s been putting Eddie in a good mood lately, and what you feed off of as well.

It’s another no-brainer that you select Metallica’s newest release, enjoying it as it floods your eardrums and settles. You remove your coat and shoes, sliding over Eddie’s sheets and onto your tummy, rolling over on your back and sighing in relaxation once your weight feels lighter. You hum along with each guitar riff, thinking back to Eddie’s attempts at each song, how his fingers mimic the movements late at night in his bedroom to get a feel, before he tries to play a chord— it weighs heavily in the recesses of your memory. And it’s just you there with him, watching from your side of the bed, sheets curled around your waist, Eddie in his checkered boxers and tattoos prominent in the low lamp light, snatching the pick from his neck to strum gently over the body of his beloved. Your toes curl in your socks, the visual an embodiment of the purest sin known to mankind.

With Eddie’s smell surrounding you into a familiar housing, an array of dizzying memories pausing your presence, you’re already aware of the throb that tickles your tummy and tags your cunt in a downward spiral. Another easy decision comes in you quickly shedding your bra and jeans, leaving you clad in your t-shirt, socks, and panties. You relax into the bed, fingers reaching to adjust the bandana on your head, eyelids fluttering closed, hands splayed across your stomach, fingers toying with the elastic of your panties. You need to, but you won’t. Not yet…

~*~

10:22 PM stares back at you in bold red letters, shining from the alarm clock stationed on the scuffed nightstand. Indiana winds are rough, scattering Autumn’s first real storm against the entirety of the trailer. You wonder if it’ll still be raining when he comes in, because Eddie’s band soirées can go on until one or two in the morning, so upon hearing the front door creak open (surprisingly) and slam shut seconds later, locks sliding into place and Eddie’s less than graceful footfalls approaching—you set your plan in motion. Flipping onto your side with your back facing his eyeline, you cling to his pillow and stuff the other between your thighs, feigning slumber, a delicious thrumming starting to gallop in your pulse point. His bedroom door rattles on rusted hinges and you hear his breathing hitch, a quiet clicking of his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

You smile to yourself, that high causing your pride to soar at how you can affect him like this. You’re not speaking, residing in your placing, his bandana secured on your head, something you know he’s seen by now. It takes a few more bated breaths and the sounds of his boots and leather jacket hitting the floor, keys being tossed over onto the dresser, and you feel the bed dip beneath his weight. His rings, made cool from outside temperatures, stain against your skin as he stumbles a light brushing touch over your tailbone, fingertips hovering atop the elastic of your panties. His voice is wind bitten, a throaty rasp on the rise. “Hey, sweetheart. Did you miss me?”

You can’t take his cologne or the perspiration of his practice lingering—any longer, flipping onto your back, pillow between your thighs forgotten, nuzzling into his hold. He rests a palm on your belly, smirking, knowing you’ve been awake this whole time. His elbow props above your head, fingers dangling to stroke across your forehead, tapping his bandana, noticing his favorite tape playing. “You goin’ through my shit again?” There’s not a trace of malice or irritation, but a fond amusement.

You shrug and let your hand drift to his jugular, knuckles scrubbing over the stubble you find there. When you drink in his face it takes the breath right out of your lungs, sucker socking your guts. He’s gorgeous. His chocolate irises are a thin ring against the contrast of inky pupils, his lips red from the cold, chapped from his last cigarette. Those shaggy locks are windswept, yet soft, and all that remains on his body is the long sleeved ivory sweater, a few holes here and there, and his white wash jeans—your favorite pair he owns, in addition to the black denim.

“Your hands are cold. You’re cold.” Is your response, ignoring his accusation that is always true.

“Guess I need someone to warm me up then, don’t I?” He doesn’t fight off your touches, knees knocking with your own, socked feet poking at your own, using his toes to tickle yours. You giggle like an idiot and kiss the side of his neck, inhaling without shame.

He groans his appreciation, leaning in to kiss you softly, one that conveys his missing you, despite the short hours of separation. You reciprocate, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, releasing. He’s starting to rock into your side, that bulge quickly becoming visible in his tight jeans. On the spit-slit break away, he thumbs your jawline with a fresh calloused thumb from his practice tonight, nose nudging yours. You’re shaking, already prepared to agree with him. “Does my little princess need something?”

“Eddie…” You spread your legs, fucked out enough as it is, forget vocal communication. Taking his wrist, you slide it between your legs, arching, rubbing the sopping wet fabric of your underwear over his palm. “M’ fucking wet, baby.”

Eddie turns onto his side and squeezes over your cunt, licking his way into your mouth for another sloppy kiss. As you part, he tugs on your underwear and you lift your hips. “Let’s take these off, sweetheart?”

Always a question, but never an assumption. Your gentleman. Once your panties hit the foot of the bed and Eddie can really see your soaked pussy, that primal shift slides into place, locking his insides. He stares at you as you watch him. “Yeah? You gonna play with yourself? Touch that pretty little pussy in front of me?”

Your metal head will never pass up the chance to see you pleasuring yourself, letting you set the pace, using him for whatever you have to have at the moment. He kisses your cheek and lingers. “What do you need me to do, baby?”

“Just… watch?” Your pupils have doused your irises of their remaining color, and you’re fading away in the haze of something only Eddie Munson can provide.

“Fuck yes, sweetheart.” Eddie’s sweater goes next and he unbuckles his belt to help alleviate a little pressure, taking you into his arms and curling his ankle over one of yours, helping you keep your legs spread wide open.

He slides his smokes and lighter from his front pocket and lights a stick, a cloud swirling above your head as you lean back and watch it dissipate, fingers greedily taking some of your slick and rubbing it around your swollen clit. You jolt into the friction, whining. Eddie moans in unison. “How does that feel, my princess? Shit, you’re so unbelievably fuckin’ wet. It’s takin’ everything in me not to pull my dick out and pound you into this bed.”

Your fingers immediately slide down and press into your awaiting cunt, that squelch causing an embarrassing sound to pass your lips. Eddie mouths your neck in appreciation, inspiring a continuation. “That’s a good girl. Take those fingers in my cunt.”

His cunt? The hair on your arms stands at attention, goosebumps splattering your flesh. Eddie nods into your skin. “S’ right, little girl. It’s where I cum, where I’m gonna put my baby in you—“ He breaks briefly, lips by the shell of your ear. “And that means it’s mine.”

He leans over momentarily and stubs the cigarette out.

He stops himself after, wanting for you to engage in your solo performance, both of you high off his cue cards. You start fucking yourself faster, thighs tensing, toes curling, your back arching, one hand finding your breast over your t-shirt. Eddie raises you into a slight lift, yanking at the collar until it’s sliding off. “You wanna show daddy how you touch your tits, hmm? What you did to yourself before I touched them?”

The second that your fingers touch your nipple, you bury your face into the curvature of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, crying out. Your fingers curl inside you, nudging that spot that Eddie can find with better ease, but it’s enough to stimulate your oncoming orgasm. You’re drenched in your own arousal, every press in squishing a fresh wave of the translucent cream back out, captivating Eddie. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip and pulls hard enough that he tastes copper, resisting his urges to fuck his hand. This is about you right at this moment—hell, for being witness to this private show, it’s about him too.

You cup your breast and roll the globe, twisting, pinching your nipple and scraping your nails over your areola. Eddie lays kisses to your temple and forehead, finally finding it in himself to speak. He knows what you need to get there, that extra push. And he’s more than happy to oblige. “Princess?”

You remove your sweat slick face from your Eddie scented cocoon, barely conscious. “What, Eds?”

He’s smiling proudly, kissing above your top lip. “Can I offer you some service? Perhaps a thumb?”

When you’re frowning, he holds the digit up and you whine so loudly he could cum in his pants from the sound alone. He presses his thumbpad against your clit and circles the swollen flesh with gained expertise, his mouth finding solace by your earlobe. “Atta girl. You gonna cum for me?”

“Jesus, Eddie. Want to.”

“Oh yeah? Come on then, show me how you cum. Remind me.” He presses down harder, bracelet jostled on his arm as the tendons in his wrist flex with his movements. That has you clenching around your fingers, shivering into a climax that has your eyes rolling back in your head and a scream tearing its way free of your diaphragm, battering your lungs on the way up and out.

Eddie’s cock twitches, an ache dragging him by his throat and not relinquishing its powered grip. There’s a wet spot pooling over his crotch and he’s about to burst. He noses you into a devilish kiss full of a sinful nights’ promise, and you’re flooded with an orgasm that leaves you feeling featherlight, soaking into your every pore and blocking off every sense. You can’t speak, unable to even say your boyfriend’s name. It’s a sight to behold, one that Eddie kisses you right through, his palm bumping your wrist bone as you thrust your fingers into your heat, riding out the last part of your steep ride.

Only when you start panting for breath and trembling, fingers sliding out, a mess, does Eddie calm you with his honey-hot tone. “Good girl. You’re so fucking hot, sweetheart.”

You’re shaking and curling close to him, hot breath on his neck. He pets down the expanse of your back, his other hand lifting your fingers to his mouth to admire the webbed shine, his tongue licking the digits clean, moaning around them with an, “Mhm.”

You laugh softly, coming back to yourself, doe eyed and simping for your guy. He grins that familiar grin, placing your hand to rest on his navel, where you scratch at that fluffy happy trail.

“An eternal goddess that uses the sun and moon to do her bidding. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of seeing her cum.”

“You’re cheesy as fuck, baby.” You murmur, hand lifting to take off the bandana.

Eddie halts you. “Leave it? I wanna fuck you while you wear it.”

~*~

[myspacebrat]

Fooled round & fell in love (part two)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: slight smut 18+MINORS DNI, cussing, smoking, fuck boy eddie, buckle up for this one

A/N: I am SHOCKED and so GRATEFUL at the amount of love part one got, I can’t even begin to thank everyone who’s read it and left sweet comments, I really didn’t think this would get more than a few likes so this has really given me the motivation to keep going.

Thank you again to my love @myobmaya for reading and giving me the best live commentary 💗💗💗

───⋆☆─────────────

After Eddie leaves, you and Randy head out to the party. You notice his body language is kind of off and he’s a little too quiet but you chalk it up to pre party jitters which you happen to be experiencing

Once you pull up to the unfamiliar driveway Randy gets out and walks around to your side, opening your door

“Oh, such a gentleman” you say with a smirk

“Only for you, angel” he retorts back with a sly grin

He wraps his arm around your waist and leads you inside, once you make it through the door you hear shot in the dark by Ozzy booming through the speakers, this was definitely not like the typical high school jock parties you were use to

Randy makes his rounds greeting his friends and doing his best to introduce you over the loud music, once he’s done you both head to the kitchen for some drinks his hand never leaving your waist

You walk up to the table filled with drinks and snacks reaching for a red solo cup and filling it to the brim with the red concoction sitting in the punch bowl, it was so sweet you couldn’t even taste the alcohol

While randy heads towards the fridge to grab a beer, you turn around to scan the party with your cup half way to your lips, your eyes lock with the brown doe eyed metal head you know so well, you send him a small smile and turn around almost immediately, feeling Randy’s presence behind you

He grabs your waist, pushing your body close to his while smashing his lips to yours, you both make out pretty hot and heavy for a couple minutes, when you turn around searching for Eddie, he’s gone

Randy leans down and whispers in your ear, asking you if you wanna go find somewhere in the living room to sit, you nod and take his hand as he leads the way, when you both look around you notice one spot on the couch that’s not currently being occupied. Randy heads over and sits down pulling you to sit on his lap, you squirm for a few seconds trying to get comfortable but he grabs your waist trying to halt your movement

Randy pulls out a joint from behind his ear

“Do you wanna smoke, babe?” He asks with an unsure look

“Yeah, light it up!” You respond back trying to sound as enthused as possible

He hands you the joint letting you take the first hit, as you blow the smoke out you notice Eddie with his arm around some blonde girl, she’s laughing at some stupid shit he said, you eye them as they walk out the front door together, Eddie takes one last glance back at you before he disappears out the door with his flavor of the night

Your stomach does that little plummet you’ve grown so accustomed to, but you remember you you have Randy so it’s not as bad as it could be

───⋆☆─────────────

You and Randy actually ended up having a pretty good time, even though you had this almost dread feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t seem to shake no matter what you did.

you both smoked some more, danced a little and did a lot more making out followed by some groping

So once the party started to die down you were ready to go, you decided you were gunna spend the night at Randy’s place, feeling a bit anxious knowing what might possibly go down. You grab his hand and squeezed it looking at him while he drove trying to find something, anything in his features that could make you forget about the one person that seems to inhabit your mind constantly.

You keep telling yourself Randy’s good, he’s more than you could’ve asked for, he treats you great, too good even but that nagging feeling just won’t seem to subside

You give yourself a little pep talk before he’s pulling up to the parking garage

“You want him!” “Just have sex with him and forget about what’s his face!” “He’s probably balls deep in that girl right now, not giving you a second thought!”

“Wow, that last one hurt” you think to yourself

Once again Randy comes around to your side opening your door for you, this time you just shoot him a smile, still a little lost in your thoughts, he grabs your hand and walks with you up to his apartment

“Is everything okay?” He asks looking down at you with worried eyes

“Yeah I’m great!” The words rush out of you a little too fast

“Hey, if you’re nervous about us taking this further, you can tell me, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

God, why is he so perfect?

“No, I know, but I’m comfortable with it if you are?”

He chuckles shaking his head

“I’m more than comfortable with it, baby”

Once you get into his apartment you both start kissing, unable to keep your hands off each other he softly pushes you up against the back of the door, running his hand down the side of your thigh, inching his hand up past your skirt, you let out a soft moan when his lips attach to your neck sucking and licking, you can’t help but think about Eddie in this moment

“Is this how he’d kiss me?” “How he’d touch me?” “God, what I would do for him to touch me like this!” “No, no! You’re with Randy, not Eddie!” You mentally scold yourself.

His hand moves up toward your panties, snapping the side of your thong back in to your skin, as he smirks against your neck, his fingers finally touching the spot you’re craving the most, he dips his finger past your panties, swirling his thumb around your clit, you let out a high pitched moan not expecting to be so sensitive, forgetting weed has the tendency to do that to you

He continues with his assault on your clit, you’re a moaning mess now, almost unable to even keep yourself up as you clench around nothing feeling your orgasm begin to creep up on you, your brain is so scrambled by the pleasure that when you’re cumming you scream out the first name that comes to mind

“EDDIE!”

Randy removes his hand from your panties, unlatching his lips from your neck, he’s looking at you like you just told him his dog died, and you couldn’t feel any lower in this moment

“What the fuck?” Randy spits moving away from you a little

“What’d you say?”

“Randy, I’m so sorry! I don’t even know why or how that happened, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately and-“

“Do you like Eddie, or something? Like is there something going on there?” He says cutting you off

“No, no I don’t!”

You shout, way less convincing then you were trying to be

“Listen, I’m not blind, I can see the way you look at each other, and the way he looks at me when I’m with you. I like you a lot y/n but I don’t want to be holding you back if there is something there”

You shake your head signaling that you understand what he’s saying, as you bite at your bottom lip, but nothings really registering, you feel utter humiliation rush over you, your mind is completely clouded, as you internally curse yourself

“I really am sorry, I never meant to drag you into this bullshit, I really like you too, you’re a great guy, but I don’t know maybe I need some time to just get over him before I jump into something new”

“Get over him?” Randy asks

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

“Because it’s not that simple” you say coming out more as a whisper

“Well if you figure it out and realize that asshats not for you, you know where to find me”

You give him a small nod and smile

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asks

“Yes, please” you answer back

───⋆☆─────────────

You decide to stay in and distance yourself from the outside world, you felt like a complete idiot, you humiliated yourself in front of the guy you were trying to move on with, how could you be so stupid and say another man’s name like that? You haven’t felt this low in a long time.

But little did you know the humiliation was about to get worst, Eddie was on his way to re-up on his stash at Ricks house, and apparently men gossip just as much as women because Rick told Eddie what had happened between you and Randy, all the grimey details.

That night while you were laying in bed still feeling sorry for yourself about the events that happened after the party, you got a phone call but you decided to let it ring

Not having the motivation to face anyone, it rang again, and then three more times before you started to get annoyed

You stood up from your bed and stomped over to the phone on your desk

“HELLO?!” You snapped

“Woah, sweetheart! Is that how you answer the phone for everyone? Or am I just special?”

You rolled your eyes so hard it hurt

“What do you want, eddie?” You spit out harshly

“I wanted to talk to you, I feel like we haven’t just talked in a while, I miss you.” He said while whispering that last part and your body betrayed you by making your stomach flutter

“Yeah, well I don’t really feel like talking, I gotta go” you rush out

But before you have the chance to hang up eddie is shouting

“HOLD ON, HOLD ON! Don’t hang up y/n!”

You keep the phone held up to your ear silently telling him to keep going

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asks

“I’m not sure yet, why?” You question

“Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come hang, watch a movie, order some pizza, you know like old times?” He says hopeful

“Um, I don’t know if that’s a good idea?” You say defeated

“Why? Your boyfriend won’t let you hang out with your best friend?” He scoffs

Eddie knew what happened between you and Randy but he wanted to see what you’d say about it

“Randy’s not my boyfriend, we’re not even really talking at the moment” you say while closing your eyes and taking a deep breath

Eddie smiles at the revelation, all though he knew what happened he wasn’t sure where that still left you and Randy, so this was music to Eddie’s ears

“Oh damn, are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?” He says while putting on his best concerned voice

“No, I really don’t, honestly.” You say taking another deep breathe

“Kay, well come hang out with me tomorrow and I’ll make you forget all about what’s his face.” Eddie says with a suggestive tone to his voice but you surprisingly don’t read too much into it

“Fine, fine! I’ll go, happy?” You retort

“The happiest!” He says

You both hang up and now instead of dwelling on the stupid mistake you made, you’re thinking about how the hell you’re suppose to face Eddie and act normal.

───⋆☆─────────────

part 3

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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[cannibalizedlove]

hey id love to request a jimmy oneshot where the (male) reader is working the midnight shift at a convenience store, and Jimmy notices them while walking by during his midnight walks nd buys a cigarette pack (only to get some attention) and just basically jimmy trying to shoot his shot with the reader !! idk if youd do this req because it's a small fandom and Jimmy (entergalactic) is voiced by timothee :)) but id hope you consider giving Entergalactic a watch and maybe write the oneshot ! also totally random but reminder to stay hydrated and drink your water 🫶

Jimmy is the cutest, thank you so much for this ask, I literally love him. I just rewatched the movie to freshen my memory for this request! Also, I couldn’t resist using this gif, can you blame me? Hope you enjoy <3

Can I get you something.

Information and warnings — x male reader, flirting, smug Jimmy, the trio being silly, awkward Jimmy trying to land pick up lines, first time meeting, fluff.

You rubbed your eyes as you opened the shop door, the familiar ringing of the bell reminding you that you’re clocked in for a 7 hour shift.

You flicked the remaining bud of your joint as you flipped the “Be back soon” sign back to “Open.”

The first thirty minutes of your shift were spent playing a cat-themed candy crush rip off while sipping a tall boy version of a Coca Cola, avoiding your duties of shop clean up and restock.

You were enjoying your silence and lack of work while still being paid, as trio of overtly intoxicated men stumbled into your convenience store.

“I’m Jabari and I’m too scared to fuck my fine ass neighbor, cause I’m scared of pussy! Wah Wah.” The tallest one announced, picking on his friend as he ripped a Monster energy out of the holder.

The one you assumed was Jabari, pushed his friend in a half joking, half fuck off way as he grabbed out two cases of beer, either taking the party home, or to another trap-house.

Yet over all of the commotion, your eyes were drawn to the last one to come in, he was scrawny with a shaved head, and seemed more airy opposed to stumbling; definitely more high than drunk.

You continued to swipe for three matching cats, occasionally looking up to see Buzzcut grabbing handfuls of roadtrip-esque snacks to satisfy his munchies. Though, you’d quickly push your head down and fumble with something on the counter to “act busy” when he’d catch your stare, which seemed to be every-time you’d look at him.

You wondered if he was staring at you in return, but hurriedly shook the idea as you remembered you worked behind the counter at a dingy convenience store; and these guys looked like big deals. ‘Selling doritos, snowballs and corn dogs wasn’t the most attractive thing to guys’ you thought as the men plopped down their items on your counter.

“Just these, man.” Jabari smiled before he continued to argue with the taller man about not piping his supposedly very attractive neighbor. You agreed with him, but kept silent as you scanned the slew of beer and midnight snacks.

“Jimmy would agree with me, he’d totally say hit it and leave it! Wouldn’t you, Jimmy?” The man announced, his sunglasses sliding down his nose, perfectly agreeing with his smug smirk.

“No! I actually would never, Ky, because I do not sleep around! I only do that once I’m settled down, which I’m not, but would like to be, you know this.” Jimmy, you knew him now as, said defensively, his head jerking to you in a gesturing manner, basically saying ‘don’t blow my cover.’

“Ohh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Very committed and very saintly; I know that about you.” Ky chuckled as he pushed his sunglasses up. “Go get your man!” He said in a hushed tone, earning an elbow to the ribs from Jimmy and grabbed a case of beer, telling Jabari to get the other, leaving Jimmy to get his bag of cheap snacks.

“I’ll be just a second, guys!” Jimmy waved his friends off as he leaned against your counter, earning a small giggle and smirk from you as you watched him begin to start his ‘‘smooth’’ flirting.

“Can I get you something?” You said after a moment of silence staring at eachother, you wouldn’t mind looking at him quietly for a few more seconds, but also wanted to talk to him and see where this went.

“Oh, you know what, I forgot to get smokes, that’s what I was missing! Can you grabbed me some camel filters, red?” He said in a shaky, nervous voice as he gave you a bashful smile.

You plucked the pack from above you, placing them infront of the both of you while a smug smile; waiting to see where he goes with this small interaction. Jimmy began to reach for his wallet, cutting his losses and sighing under his breath knowing it would be awkward to keep it going.

“On the house, you seem good for it.” You bit your cheek and leaned against the counter yourself, mirroring him and meeting him at eye level; somehow hes even more pretty this close.

Jimmy smiled and let out a breathy laugh as he looked to the side, seeing his two friends watching through the window and nodding profusely with thumbs up.

“Thank you, you don’t have to, but I’d never turn down free smokes.” Jimmy said in singy songy tone, pocketing the pack and moving slightly closer to you, staring at your lips.

“Big party tonight? What’s the celebration?” Your eyes trailing to his lips yourself, once again mirroring him, watching as he swallowed thickly at your advances. “Celebrating life, baby, always making it a party.” Jimmy said with a goofy laugh, he was sarcastic, but you knew he was the type of guy to bring the party wherever he went.

“Would love to have you join us, if you wanted to?” Jimmy swallowed thickly, looking up at you with knitted eyebrows, he was shooting his shot and looking absolutely stunning while doing it, you couldn’t turn him down if your life depended on it, but you knew you couldn’t just drop your shift for a party.

“My boss would have my ass.. any chance you’re free tomorrow afternoon? I still wanna see you.” You admitted with a soft smile, seeing Jimmy’s eyes go from pitifully sad from the start of your sentence, to being wide with joy at the end.

“Lunch? There’s this burger joint down the block, I could meet you there, or pick you up. Anything you want.” Jimmy smiled and balanced on his tippy toes with a few taps on your counter, unable to hide his excitement.

You wrote your phone number down on his receipt, along with your address with a smiley face, smirking as you slide it over to him. Jimmy launched for it and grabbed it hastily, smiling widely and began to make his way out of the store.

“Hey, what’s your name?” He said, looking back as he reached for the door handle, embarrassed for being so caught up in your looks before even asking you a basic question.

“Y/N. See you at lunch, party animal.” You giggled as you waved goodbye to him, going back on your phone, updating your friends about the cute guy asking you out.

“Later, pretty boy!” Jimmy yelled out with his arms raised, while laughing as your heard Ky and Jabari praise him for his flirting game.

The three men walked away as they slapped Jimmys back, pushed into him and cheered for him.

“Got a fucking address, number and a date, boys! We’re so fuckin in!” Jimmy screamed out into the night sky, overjoyed and slapping the receipt with a dopey smile.

[antimonyandthyme]

guanyu/fernando; undercover cop au

Fernando’s out in the phonebooth by the bar, foot tapping a doomed tattoo into the ground. The phone rings, and rings and rings.

Shit’s going to hit the fan.

He tries a second and a third time, and Ron never fucking answers, and Fernando has face up to the fact that his handler might have just upped and left the burner Blackberry and went back to be happy with his wife and kids. While Fernando’s out here, as stranded as a desert island can ever get.

He tries one last time, just for luck.

“Hello?”

It’s not Ron. It’s some—voice Fernando doesn’t even recognize. Young and almost dangerously curious. Some kid stayed too late in the office, trying to impress someone, and hearing the phone on Ron’s desk go off like a fire alarm, one, two, three, four times. Some kid winding up with a mess six feet deep. Shit.  

“Yeah, delivery,” Fernando says sharply, hopes to god whoever is listening follows. “Junkyard Bar by the Highway, you know that one, piece of shit by the side of the road. Baddest place there is.”

A beat, then the kid says, “Understood.”

Either the brightest in the class, or the absolute dumbest.

“I need delivery,” Fernando says again, as two drunk idiots, strapped to the nines, stumble out and pass the phonebooth. “Get me two large fries, a cheeseburger, and a coke.” It’s 24 hours at some fast food joint somewhere. The kid’s going to have to figure it out.

“Need backup?”

“No,” Fernando grits out. He needs a believable way out of this, not for the whole squad to show up and blow his cover. “Just get me my food, and get it fast.”

“I got you,” the voice says and the line goes dead.

Fernando takes a second, breathes. Thinks of every possible way this will end with a bullet in someone’s neck. Down by his boot the dust settles.

He saunters back in. Raises a hand for another drink.

“What d’you order?”

“Cheeseburger and fries,” Fernando shrugs. “Make my life a lot easier if your kitchen still worked.”

“It’s past midnight, asshole,” the bartender says. They thrive on a relationship of annoyance, nothing too friendly, nothing bordering on disdain to make him memorable. Exactly where Fernando needs to be. He sloshes beer down his chin, and the bartender takes that as his cue to find someone else to talk weather with.

Fernando counts the minutes, barely tastes the hops swirling on his tongue. Behind the bar, in the den hiding in plain sight, something’s happening. He clocked it the moment he saw the owner and the man he’d been tailing for a whole nine months slide in fifteen minutes ago. Cash is being exchanged. Hands are being shaken. Throats are being slit.

He squints at the sudden lights flooding through the window. Fernando swallows his pulse.

“That’ll be my fucking dinner,” he announces to no one in particular. He heaves himself off the barstool, pats around fake drunkenly for his wallet in his back pocket. No one pays him a second glance.

The kid’s in a McDonald’s uniform. A uniform. And he’s got a takeout bag in one half-outstretched arm.

Even through the rush of adrenaline now spiking through him, Fernando finds it in him to be wildly, stunningly, impressed. The kid had gotten a fucking uniform.

“Sir, I’m really sorry, but I just realized they sent me out without your fries.”

He was saying it softly enough not to cause a commotion, but loudly enough that there’d be several witnesses.

“Motherfucker,” Fernando says, waiting for his lead.

“I can go back. Or maybe, you could—”

“I’ll come with you,” Fernando interjects, getting the plan immediately, “or I’ll just be sitting here waiting for your sorry ass until I starve.” Slams his beer bottle down with just enough irritation to make it utterly convincing. He’s ornery even on his best days here. The bartender rolls his eyes and goes back to his drinks.

Fucking perfect.

He gets into the kid’s car, a nondescript, unnoteworthy Subaru. As the kid tears off, Fernando says, breathless, “I can’t believe you got a uniform.”

The kid shows his teeth through the rearview mirror. One hand on the wheel, one hand peeling the McDonald’s delivery cap off his head. “Paid for college.”

--

At first impression, Fernando wouldn’t have pegged Guanyu as someone vindictive. But Guanyu, who showed up in a uniform with a crumpled takeout bag, Guanyu, who bailed him out of that bar when Fernando had thought he was fucked all ways to Sunday, is full of surprises.

Guanyu reports Ron for negligence, and takes it up with Homicide, then the Chief, and follows it up and up and up and up, like he’s pulling determinedly at the multi-coloured handkerchiefs coming out of the magician’s bag until he’s convinced he’s got the last one. The information Fernando provides is grade A fuel. The case is now big enough that they’ve got two whole divisions working on it. To save face, the bosses move Ron out of state. Fernando can’t find it in him to care less.

They sit outside in the precinct parking lot, sharing fries.

“I can’t see you having worked here.”

Guanyu laughs. “I lied. I went into the McDonald’s flashing my badge.”

“Guns a-blazing.” My hero.

“I said I needed a uniform. I changed into it, right in front of the cashiers. They looked at me as if I was from another planet.”

Fernando grins into his cheeseburger. If the Chief looked out right now, he’d see his most promising recruit fraternizing with a wounded dog who barely even reads his own name right these days. Not the best look for Guanyu, who knows it, surely. Fernando can’t figure it out. Can’t figure him out.

“So,” Guanyu clears his throat. “It seems like you’re out a handler.”

Fernando shrugs. “I’ll be on loan to whoever wants to keep me.”

“Sounds like a shit deal for you.”

“When is it not?”

Nobody of the right mind works undercover. Fernando’s learned to play cards with the hands he’s dealt.

“It won’t be that way with me,” Guanyu says.

Fernando stares. Way he says it, sounds almost like a proposal.

“It is,” Guanyu says wryly.

“Why,” Fernando says.

“Smart as all hell, and I’ve heard you do it all.”

“Oh,” Fernando says soft, dangerous, “you’ve heard, huh?”

Guanyu has the decency to look slightly ashamed. “Ron didn’t know what to do with you.”

“And you do?”

“I know how to pick up when you call,” Guanyu says. “I know how to heel.”

Fernando wants to shake some sense into the kid. “It’s usually the other way around.”

Guanyu smiles. Something small, something secret. A flash of something curious, like that first Hello? when he’d answered Fernando’s distress signal. How deep into Fernando’s files did Guanyu read? “Not for you.”

“And you’re fine with that,” Fernando says, just short of incredulous. After all, he’s learning Guanyu’s full of surprises. “You’re fine with me going, heel.”

Guanyu goes tight for a quick second. His ears are a little too red for the late summer weather.

Interesting, Fernando thinks.

Fernando holds out his hand. Greasy from the fries they’ve just shared. It takes a moment before Guanyu looks him in the eye.

When he does, that same composure that carried him into the bar that day is back.

They shake.

[bee6r]

Bruised but Not Broken

Masterlist

{JJ Maybank x !GN Reader!}

Warnings: Drinking, smoking, violence/abuse, cursing.

A/N: This isn't edited or proofread (just a heads up lol), so ignore all spelling mistakes. Set in season 1, but no spoilers. Fluff!

Words: ~1k

JJ had had a crush on you since the two of you were in grade school, but in an uncharacteristic way, he had never had the guts to tell you. Today, as he rode home in John B's car, which he stole borrowed for the afternoon, all he could think about was you. How beautiful/handsome you looked when your hair was wet, and how your smile could light up a room, even when everyone was feeling down.

He pulled into the grass in front of his house, turning off the engine and hopping out onto the ground. Even before he stepped into the house, he knew something was off, and walking over the threshold, his fears were confirmed.

His father sat in the middle of the couch, simultaneously smoking a joint and drinking a halfway full beer. JJ stopped at the door, staring at his father, who stared back for a moment before standing up and throwing the beer across the room.

"Where's my money son?" JJ didn't move, just staring at his father. "You got it yet?" JJ nodded his head yes, and step farther into the room, still making sure to keep his distance, but his father crossed the room in JJ's direction in three easy strides, stopping only when he was half a foot away from JJ faces. "Give it to me."

"I don't have it," JJ responded, attempting to keep his composure, but he could feel the anger rising up in him. "I'll get it but I don't have it-" he had just barely uttered the last couple of words when his dad punched him forcefully in the nose, knocking him backwards onto the porch. Scrambling to get on his feet again, JJ attempted to back away, but his dad was quick, and punched him again, this time knocking him down the porch steps and onto the lawn.

"You little bitch!" His dad screamed, attempting to punch him again as JJ got to his feet, but this time he was away to move out of the way of the punch. The force behind it, and the fact that his father was slightly drunk, caused him to lose his balance. Taking advantage of the fact that his dad was now on the ground, JJ got on top of him, punch him hard in the nose several times.

Even as his son hit him, JJ's dad still had the strength to fight back, and by the time JJ was finally able to get away from him father, they both had sustained many injuries in the face and torso.

Hopping into John B's truck, JJ peeled off the property, not taking the time to look behind him or pay attention to the road; no one really came up that road anyway. Before he could really wrap his mind around what he was doing, and before he could talk himself out of it, JJ pulled off the road and onto a narrower gravel path towards your house.

You were somewhere in the middle of a kook and a pogue, living, not luxuriously, but more comfortably than some. JJ knew this road well, and despite the many bumps and small ditches that lined the way, he was able to make it up to your house safely.

He collected himself for a moment, still not really sure what he was doing, but determined to do it nonetheless. Jumping out and walking up to your front door, he knocked once, then twice. It was opened a few moments later by you, a smile, and then a worried look spreading across your face when you got a good look at JJ.

"Are you-" you start, reaching up to stroke his cheek, that was now beginning to bruise, but JJ walked forward and hugged you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist, and burying his face into your shoulder. "JJ," you breathed consolingly, bringing your arms to rest at his shoulders and around the back of his neck. "It's okay, it's okay."

As your words slowly calmed him, he let out small, whimpered cries. That is really what let you know how hurt he was. Until that moment, you had never seen JJ Maybank cry, which is why you only wrapped your arms tighter around him.

A few minutes of this passed, and you were still supporting JJ in your arms (despite the height difference). He slowly rose from your shoulder, and looked you straight in the eyes. His cheeks were rosy and wet with tear marks, but he looked more composed than he did a few minutes ago. You reach up and wipe away a couple of the droplets that were still lingering on his face, and smiled. It was a small smile, but it still set off a warm feeling in JJ's chest, and in that moment, he knew exactly what he wanted. Ever feeling that he had been hiding or ignoring over the past few years began to rush into him, and leaning down slowly, as if to give you time to pull away, he kissed you.

It was gentle and sweet, and everything about it screamed love, not lust. Anyone could see that he didn't like you the way he liked every other girl who had wondered into his life. He liked you so much more, and he liked you in the way he never thought he could like anyone. You were the center of his universe and the only person he would ever trust with who he truly was.

Everything he had ever wanted to say, he told you with that kiss, and by the way you kissed him back, he knew that you felt the same. The gentleness soon was washed away by passion, and as he brought you impossibly closer to him, both of you smiled into the kiss, knowing that this was meant to be.