#the cure for a weed hangover is more weed

[jacob-blogs]

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 (part two) | neil lewis x reader

read part 1 first!!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you've been best friends with neil basically your entire life, and secretly in love with him almost as long. now, you have to wonder if it's time to move on... or if that's even possible.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10k

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut, angst, pining/unrequited love - 18+ only

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | hangovers, jealousy/mega angst, smut (finally; unprotected sex, bondage mention, crying during sex/slight dacryphilia) and fluff/emotions

You were draped over the couch limply, groaning as you held a frozen bag of peas to your head— and used it to cover your eyes, because everything was just too fucking bright.

“You look like one of those weed commercials,” Jonathan informed you with a frown.  “Like, the one with the deflated girl.”

“Those aren’t commercials for weed, dumbass,” Lucien snarked.  “They’re PSAs.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jonathan shrugged, “I only watch TV when I’m stoned.”

“How are you even alive right now?” you asked Jonathan with a whine.  “Like, how are you doing anything more than this?  ‘Cause I’m just doing this and I think I’m dying.”

“The secret is not being a lightweight,” Jonathan explained.

“Don’t listen to him,” Neil warned, “his liver’s like a rotten egg.  You should be proud to be a lightweight— actually, I’m still not sure why you got so wrecked last night.”

“You’re just jealous you weren’t invited,” Jonathan quipped, and you were too busy keeping your eyes shut to see if Neil actually reacted to that.

“Are you actually planning to do any work today?” Lucien wondered.  “Or are you getting paid to lay around complaining?”

“Are you getting paid to be so bitchy?” you shot back.  “Just make it my paid sick leave.”

“Sick, yes; paid, yes,” Jonathan noticed, “but you didn’t actually leave.”

“If she wants to spend her sick day here, she can,” Neil decided, “it’s not like she’s contagious.”

“She might be, if she talks you all into coming out again tonight,” Jonathan laughed, but you barely let him finish.

“No fucking way,” you interjected instantly, “I’m never drinking again.”

“But the best cure for a hangover is liquor!” Jonathan insisted.

“That’s the most alcoholic advice I’ve ever heard you give,” Lucien scolded.  “Next you’ll say you should drink in the mornings to perk up.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Neil decided.

“See!” Jonathan yelped triumphantly.

“No, not booze— kid, you want me to get you a coffee or something?” Neil offered instead.  You could tell he’d stepped a little closer from the sound of his voice— and he was speaking a little softer, too.  You hesitantly peeled the bag off your head— just partially, that is— and squinted one eye open; thankfully, his head was blocking most of the overhead light as he looked down at you.  “There’s that place on the corner, I could just run and get it real quick—”

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “but thanks.”

“Not even a hot chocolate?”

You already felt warm inside from him saying that, no hot beverage required.  You shook your head and he shrugged as he walked away.  “Just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” you hummed.  You liked this, actually— him taking care of you.  It wasn’t the first time of course, you’d gotten sick your fair share of times while knowing him and he’d usually come over and help how he could (which was mostly in the form of takeout soup and entertainment).  But now you imagined it a little… cozier: him wrapping you up in a blanket and then in his arms, checking your temperature by putting his hand to your forehead, letting you drift to sleep on him while he read to you or something.  

You probably could’ve dozed off as you imagined that little fantasy world, if it weren’t for Neil breaking the silence a minute later.  “You know, I was thinking about changing things up a bit,” he said suddenly.

“Please, please, do not try to grow a goatee again,” Lucien begged.  As you and Jonathan erupted in a chorus of disgusted agreement, Neil spoke over you all.

“I meant the store!” he promised.  “The shelves— and maybe some of the posters, I don’t know.”

“Or you can finally take my idea and start renting porn,” Jonathan offered.

“First of all,” Neil explained, “technically, some of our inventory is considered erotic—”

“No no, not your weirdo French experimental softcore— the good stuff: college babes, horny stepmoms…” Jonathan began to list.

“And second of all,” Neil continued, but Jonathan was still going.

“Norwegian twins coming to America for a foreign exchange program—”

“Norwegian twins?” you repeated with a confused grimace.

“And second of all,” Neil began again, louder and with a scowl on his face, “we don’t have any good way to disinfect the tapes after people return them.”

“That’s a very good point,” Lucien noticed.

Much later in the day— after a few customers had come and gone, and Jonathan had left for the day, and the UPS guy had come by with a delivery of some new (old) movies to add to the store’s inventory— it ended up with you and Neil in his office.

You hadn’t tried to be in the same office at the same time, really… if anything, you were kind of avoiding him at the moment.  Not that you could actually avoid your boss while at work in such a small place— even if he wasn’t your best friend— but you’d been dodging the elephant in the room this whole time.

He sat at his desk and leaned back in the chair, putting one foot up against the desk to tilt back even further as he looked through the stack of mail.  For a minute, there was just silence, aside from you both just working.  Of course, it couldn’t last forever.

“You, uh, told me you were going back to yours last night,” Neil noticed as he sorted through the envelopes— you figured it was a matter of time before he mentioned it, unless he had a serious lapse of memory, but you still winced.

“Yeah, um, sorry, I just—”

“No, it’s fine,” he shrugged, not looking up from the mail, “you didn’t have to take me out with you— I was pretty beat anyways, I just… I’m just not sure why you didn’t tell me?”

“I— I was going home, really,” you explained, “I got there and I couldn’t sleep, and wine always makes me tired but I didn’t have any so—”

“So you did whiskey shots with Jonathan?”

God, you almost thought about saying it, even if it wasn’t true, just to piss him off.  Yeah— and we went back to his place and did the horizontal tango.  Would you like me to bring you the register?

Instead, you cleared your throat and set down the tapes.  “I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you told him; he looked up at you with a sort of deer-in-the-headlights look.

“I-I know,” he stammered out, “sorry, I was just… I’m curious, that’s all.”

“Well, maybe what Jonathan and I do is none of your business,” you replied, looking back down at the tapes as you fought down a smirk; you could feel his stare piercing through you, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of meeting your gaze.  Is that cryptic enough for you?  Maybe I should say something about how I don’t kiss and tell.

You almost hoped he’d go in for the kill— make some shitty comment about how you were a slut or how Jonathan was probably thinking about Norwegian twins the whole time— cause if he did, you could yell at him and you’d both get all worked up and maybe at least one of you would finally get out of control enough to say what you were really thinking.  Instead, he got sweet again; and that was even worse, because you couldn’t resist it.  “Wanna make cookies tonight?” he asked, randomly, softly.

“Yeah,” you smiled, “can we put potato chips in them?”

“You know, kid, I think you’re sort of an evil mastermind,” he grinned.

“Just a creative glutton,” you shrugged.

~

With the Jonathan thing behind you— if that was even really a thing— things felt back to normal with Neil.  Honestly, they might have been even better than they’d been in a while, since he wasn’t with Denise anymore.  Denise had never been jealous of you— she was just as confident as you were that you weren’t any kind of threat whatsoever— but she did whine about Neil spending more time with you than her… that is, when she actually wanted to be around Neil, which wasn’t always.  Sometimes, she seemed to appreciate you taking him off her hands, giving him an outlet for all the interests she found irritating.

But, anyways, she was gone, and you were giving up on dating (again), and Neil wasn’t being weird and you guys made cookies and it was great.  It was easy to remember how you'd survived in this cycle for so long.  Because as much as you were probably not the world's best person, you absolutely were not pretending to be Neil's friend because you had a crush— no, he really was the most important person to you, you just also wanted to touch him in all those ways that friends weren't supposed to.

You were almost giddy, high on how good it was to be back to your usual; the night before had been just perfect, like the old times, like high school— in all the best ways.

You'd probably seen him every day for the past two weeks— either at work, at his place or yours— and you had no plans to stop.  That was pretty normal for you two anyways.  You had the day off from work so you hadn't seen him yet; yes, you had considered stopping by the store anyways since Jonathan came in when he wasn't working, but you'd been too busy with your own errands and catching up on tasks at home.

Figuring it was a matter of time before Neil called you and asked to come over— or just showed up— you gave him a call around nine (knowing the store had just closed) and felt yourself get even just a little more energized when he answered.

"Hey, kid," his voice came from the other end, low and dreamy.  He was speaking softly, like it was a secret conversation, and that just made your heart beat a little faster.

“I think I’ve found the perfect movie to go with the last of the leftover cookies,” you grinned.  “I was going through my old tapes and— do you remember that weird Italian movie we watched in high school?  I think it must’ve been senior year because I remember we watched it while everyone was doing skip day— and we thought it was the funniest thing we’d ever seen— and I found it again!  Maybe it’s not as good as I remember, but I’ll bring it over and we can cover up the subtitles and see if we can guess what the hell they’re talking about.”

“Yeah, actually—”

“Oh!  Also, is it cool if I crash at yours after?  I’ll bring my own pajamas this time— and toothbrush, sorry about having to borrow yours, but—”

“Listen, um,” he coughed, lowering his voice even more, “that sounds great— but I, uh… I sort of have company for the night."

“Oh?” you blurted out, like you’d been punched in the gut— it sure felt like it.  “Oh, that’s… anybody I know?”

“No, um, we met today,” he explained.  “She, uh, came by the video store and we got to talking.”

Whore.  “Let me guess, showing her something from the private collection?” you asked— and you really did mean to refer to his literal DVD shelf, but he let out a sort of salacious chuckle.

“If all goes well,” he replied with a purr.

“R-right, well, sorry for calling—”

“No no, it’s fine,” he promised, “we’ll talk tomorrow?”

Tomorrow.  Yes, tomorrow, because I always come back, no matter how bad it hurts.  “Yeah,” you breathed.  “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” he returned, and you kept holding the phone to your ear long after the click and dial tone.

You knew you had absolutely no right to be jealous.  Honestly, you weren’t— well, you definitely were, but that wasn’t why you ran to your bed and sobbed into it.  You did that because of the hate you felt— some for Neil, some for little miss I go back to video store owner’s apartments, but plenty leftover for yourself.  You had only been through as much as you put yourself through; as much as you allowed to happen.  You stayed by his side all these years and let your heart get battered around… it wasn’t always this hard, and you used to be sure that it would be harder to stop being his sidekick.  But you couldn’t do this anymore— it was just humiliating, and useless.

You thought about calling Jonathan, but you felt guilty dumping any more weepy girl problems on him.  And, you know, that wouldn’t actually fix anything.  There was only one way to fix this, but you didn’t think you were strong enough— you knew you weren’t, actually.

It was hard to say why this one hurt so much— it’s not like you thought Neil was a virgin or something, or genuinely expected him to stay chaste after breaking up with Denise— but you suspected it was because you yourself were recognizing how long you’d been stuck in this cycle with him.  You remembered crying in your bed just like this when he got his first girlfriend junior year; you realized how little you’d changed since then.  How little you’d grown up.

So, no, you weren’t just crying because you were that jealous he was going to have sex with some random woman.  But you had to admit that was definitely part of it.

~

"Hey boss," Jonathan greeted as Neil walked in; you looked down at the tapes on the shelf in front of you, suddenly making yourself look very busy.  "How's the walk of shame?"

"I prefer 'stride of pride'," Neil replied.

“So that girl really came over after close?” Lucien realized.

“Yeah, she, uh, wanted to see The Seventh Seal,” Neil explained.

“I’m suuuuure she did,” Jonathan purred, raising his eyebrows repeatedly.

“Girls never wanna watch that,” Lucien assured.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Neil scoffed, turning to you.  “You like it, right, kid?”

“I, um… yeah,” you mumbled— whatever you had to say to end this conversation.

“Well, did she like it?” Lucien wondered.

“Uh, we… we didn’t actually finish it,” Neil admitted, and Lucien laughed as he shoved him on the shoulder.

You glanced at Jonathan, but he was already looking at you— and you hated the pity in his eyes, so you looked away again.

They kept talking, but you couldn’t hear it over the sound of… whatever sound it makes inside your head when you’re trying not to cry at work.

~

You didn’t do it that same day: it would be too suspicious, and you didn’t want to make a rash decision while you were still so upset.  Part of you was still hoping to get through this phase and go back to the ignorant bliss you’d had so recently.  But you didn’t, and you could tell that Neil sensed something was wrong— you had been sort of avoiding him for a few days while you tried to decide what to do.

But now, you’d decided.  You reached up to knock on his office door— Neil Lewis, P.I. embossed on the frosted glass— but you sighed and dropped your fist, just opening the door instead.

He was so focused on what he was working on that he didn’t look up— and he didn’t even seem to fully process that you had come in, or that you were standing there right in front of him.  Obviously he knew you were standing there, but he let you stand there for an awkwardly long time without asking what you wanted.

You appreciated it, though, ‘cause it gave you a while to watch him uninterrupted, wondering if you might never see him so relaxed again.

“Hey, Neil…” you mumbled, and he didn’t look up from his desk.  “Um…”

Not sure what else to say, you just handed him the paper.  He finally gave you a sliver of his attention to take it, smiling in slight confusion as he looked up at you.  “What is this?”

“It’s my two weeks.”

His smile fell.  “What?”

Oh, you hated doing this— it broke your heart, seeing that look on his face.  “I, uh, I just think it’s better if I—”

“No, wait,” he breathed, standing up, “you— come on, you can’t.  It’s— what’s going on?!”

“Nothing,” you insisted as you shook your head, “I just need, uh— nothing’s going on.”

I just need some space, you were gonna say, but you knew that would just open up more questions.  “Well, are you gonna work somewhere else?” he asked.  “Are you still gonna come by, or will I just see you on movie nights?”

“I— well, I wasn’t sure about movie nights either, actually,” you admitted, and he laughed— but it wasn’t a happy laugh, it was a confused, breathless, almost angry sort of laugh.

“What the fuck are you talking about?!” he snapped.  “I— you’re my best friend!  Did I do something?  ‘Cause listen, I wasn’t serious about you offering to date guys who come into the store— I swear I was joking— god, I’m an asshole—”

“No, Neil, it’s not that, that was weeks ago,” you sighed, crossing your arms.  “I just… think maybe we’ve been friends so long, you know, and it’s like— why?”

“Why?” he repeated.

“Like, maybe we just think we have to be friends because we’ve always been friends,” you continued, “but maybe we should be like normal people and— and grow apart over time.  We were really close in high school because we were the losers that everyone ignored and now… now I think we should just… grow up.”

He looked bewildered— he looked devastated, actually.  He shook his head, breathing out a quick sigh, and you weren’t sure if he was even really listening to you but you kept going.

“Sometimes I think I can’t get a boyfriend because guys are weirded out by you— I mean, not like that,” you backtracked slightly.  “Well, kind of… but I meant, like, they don’t get that we’re just friends, and they think that you’re just trying to sleep with me—”

“Well, fuck them!” he shouted, a little louder than you would’ve preferred since everyone else was on the other side of that door.  “I mean, if they don’t get us, then who fucking cares?  They’re idiots, then!”

“Yeah, but—”

“I mean, you think I’d date a girl who didn’t want me to be around you?” he returned.  “You shouldn’t be with somebody who thinks like that.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say, but—”

“But what?”

“But I’m lonely, Neil!” you shouted, immediately reaching to cover your mouth after you said it— mostly to hide your quivering lip.  “God,” you choked, lowering your head down to cover your watering eyes instead, “I’m just fucking… tired of being alone, okay?”

“So, what, you’re gonna leave all your friends?” he said, softer.  “Because you want a boyfriend?  That’s kinda… shallow.”

“What do you expect me to do?  Wait around forever?"

"Wait?” he repeated, giving you a confused look.  “Wait on what?"

You bit your lip.  You couldn't answer that— you couldn't admit that you'd been waiting for him all this time.  It's not like he'd asked you to, or expected you to, so you really couldn't be mad at him.  You wanted to be, of course, but you couldn't.  "I just need to leave, Neil," you whispered, knowing you'd sob harder if you spoke any louder.  "I'm sorry.  I just need to leave."

You turned, reaching for the door, and his hand suddenly came to your shoulder. His voice was needy and quiet: "You can't go, kid—"

"Don't fucking call me kid!" you spat, shoving him away as you cried harder.  "I hate when you call me that!"

I love when you call me that.  I hate that I love when you call me that.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't know, okay?  Whatever I did wrong, I'm sorry.  I guess I should let you go, right?  Or I'm just making it worse…”

You weren’t sure what you wanted, really.  You wanted just as much for him to finally give you the dignity you’d been craving and let you leave, as you did for him to grab you and hold you tight and tell you that you had to stay, that he needed you to stay.

“If you wanna quit, you can quit— no two weeks needed, we’ll be fine,” he promised.  “But… are you still gonna come back tomorrow?”

He wasn’t asking about tomorrow— he was asking about every day.  Tomorrow, the next day, the next, the next after that: he was asking you to rot your life away on that couch watching weird old movies with him.  And in a way, that was all you wanted.  That part you really could do forever.  But watching him get new girlfriends, get dumped, get over it— that cycle was just going to get worse and, god forbid, you’d have to see him really truly happy with someone else.  It just wasn’t fair to anyone anymore.

You didn’t answer his question, you just looked at him again.  He looked back at you in disbelief— you hadn’t meant to blindside him like this, but it was the only way to get a semi-clean break.  You hadn’t meant to cry either, though, but that was pretty much unavoidable.  “You’re really leaving?” he said quietly in sober realization, and you bit your shaking lip as you nodded.  He looked around for a moment, as if he’d find answers somewhere in this office, and raised his hands before dropping them defeatedly.  “Why?”

You thought about how to answer that for a while— longer than was natural in a conversation.  There were a thousand things to say, but only one came out, as quiet as a whisper.  “I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

"I never wanted to hurt you," he promised.

"I know," you breathed, finally turning the knob and stepping out.

You tried to act natural, but that was impossible with tears streaming down your face.  "What's up?" Jonathan asked, more neutrally than you expected, and you broke: you hid your face and ran towards the door, bolting out of the store and down the street.  Just before you stepped out you heard Jonathan ask Neil, "Dude, what did you say to her?!"

"I didn't say anything!" Neil insisted, but you didn't care to stay to hear the rest, you just wanted to be as far away from Gumshoe Video as possible.

~

When you heard a knock at the door, you paused Casablanca and brushed the used tissues off your coffee table.  “Who is it?” you called out, sitting up slightly on the couch.

“Um,” you heard Neil’s voice from the other side, and you groaned as you curled up in a ball, “I was just checking in—”

“Go. Away.” you warned sternly.

“Can’t you just let me in?” he whined, but that’s when he tried the knob, and realized the door was unlocked.  You heard the door open and shrunk up tighter into your fetal position as he entered.  

“Hey, I, uh,” he began nervously, raising his hands in a wave but then slapping them down on his legs when he didn’t get a response, “I just… wanted to talk to you…”

You didn’t respond, and in the tense silence, he must have glanced at the TV.

“Good choice,” he noticed.

“Did Jonathan tell you?” you asked right away— because that was the worst thing that could happen.  Him coming here just because he felt bad, because he found out you loved him, not because he really loved you.  The last thing you needed was Neil talking himself into liking you just to keep you from leaving him.

“Tell me what?” Neil said earnestly.  You peeked your head out and looked at him, assessing with narrow eyes.  “Seriously, what does Jonathan know that I don’t?”

“Nothing, sorry,” you shook your head.  “You can, uh… you can say whatever it is you came here to say.”

“Oh, well, I… I kinda didn’t plan that part,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

“You said you wanted to talk to me,” you remembered.

“Yeah, but I didn’t really have any steps after that,” he sighed, and you groaned as you hid your face again.

“God, Neil, that is just like you!” you whined.

“Well, sorry!  You haven’t been talking to me, I wasn’t sure you’d let me in!” he defended.  “What am I supposed to think!”

“You’re supposed to have some kind of… speech, or something!” you explained.

“I can’t believe I’m finally the one saying this,” he said, smirking a bit, “but life isn’t like the movies, kid.”

You showed your face again, and you looked at his, and you couldn’t think of a better word for his expression than just sad.  Not a beautiful word, not a very interesting one, but the best way to describe him right then.  He looked just as miserable as you felt— and that, weirdly, comforted you a little.  You’d wondered if he was just fine without you (not that you really thought he was, with how dramatic he could be).  “Why can’t it be?” you asked quietly.

He sighed and sat down on the couch beside you; you moved your feet closer to make room for him.  “I don’t know,” he admitted, “I kinda thought our life was a movie— best friends, running a small business, getting into shenanigans…”

“Shenanigans?” you repeated incredulously.

“Well, you know, something like that,” he replied.

“It was like a movie, kind of, for a while,” you agreed.  A sad movie about a stupid lonely girl.

“I just always thought—” he began, but you tightened your jaw and interrupted him.

“What was the plan, huh?  What did you really expect to happen?” you snapped.  “That we could just… do this, forever?”

“Yeah, basically!” he shouted back.  “Why not?”

“Why not?!” you repeated.  “Neil, didn’t you think I’d ever find somebody?  Did you think I could fall asleep on your fucking couch with a husband and baby at home?”

“I— I don’t know,” he admitted, losing some of his nerve as he seemed to watch his own logic fall apart.  “I just figured you wouldn’t be with anybody who didn’t, you know, understand us!”

“I don’t understand us anymore!” you whined, setting your legs back down on the floor so you could face him better.  “It’s like— it’s just like it was in high school!  You know, I could’ve been popular if it wasn’t for you!”

“Yeah, if it wasn’t for me, and that pesky ‘who you really are’ thing!” he scoffed.  “Is that what you wanted, to be fake like everyone else?”

“No,” you admitted, “but I’m saying it’s the same thing— I could have a real life, you know, if you weren’t always around!”

“Well, Jesus, I’m sorry for ruining your boring, normal life with my weirdness,” he offered sarcastically.  “See, this whole time, I thought you were cool, but I guess you’re just a poser!”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands, “that’s your dig?  Poser?  Are you fucking fourteen?!”

“I’d rather be a little immature than be fake,” he decided, crossing his arms proudly.

“Okay, well I’d rather be fake than be alone,” you replied, anger melting away into sadness once again; you bit your shaking lip and looked away.

“You shouldn’t have to choose,” he sighed, leaning in a bit closer to you.  “Of course I figured you’d find somebody, someday— somebody who really appreciates you, you know?  Somebody cool.  And he and I could be friends, too— I always figured he’d have a really cool name like… I don’t know, like Augustus or Rutherford or something.”

“Rutherford?” you repeated with a small grimace.

“That’s not the point— I just mean that he’d be kinda pretentious but, like, fun.  And rich.  And you could invite me over to swim in your pool and play croquet and stuff.”

You laughed a little, then sniffled.  Of course that’s what he thought rich people did.

“And you’d have kids, and they’d call me Uncle Neil,” he continued, “and I’d get them on the really cool stuff, you know— none of that Disney Channel crap, they’d be watching indie flicks and German expressionism before they even hit high school; gotta start ‘em early.”

“But what about you?” you asked.  “Where do you end up?”

“I… I don’t know,” he shrugged.  “I guess I just figured I’d always be here.”

You found yourself moving in a little closer— close enough that you had to look up at him slightly even while just sitting on the couch.  “So you really never thought about it?” you pressed, biting your lip, and you clarified even though it kind of seemed like he knew what you meant.  “Us, together?”

“God, are you kidding?” he snorted.  “Of course I thought about it, I mean… yeah, I thought about it…”

His voice changed a little the second time he said it, and your heartbeat sped up just a bit.

“But every time I thought about it, I just got so— I don’t know— scared, I guess,” he said quietly.  

“Scared?” you repeated.

“‘Cause, you know… it’s me and you,” he explained, smiling a little.  “It’s us.  And I figured that if you and I got together… that would be, you know… that would be it.”

As you looked at him, you wondered if he could see everything in your eyes right then.

“And what if I wasn’t good enough for you, right?  What if I fucked this up, like I fuck up everything, and then we’re not even friends?” he sighed, shaking his head.  “And then— and then what am I supposed to do?  Just, like, not have you in my life?”

You opened your mouth to promise him that he’d always be in your life, that you could never really go on without him— even if you’d just threatened that and stormed out of the video store— but instead, only a wistful sigh came out.

“C’mon— I don’t even know who I am without you, kid,” he laughed, and your heart jumped.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, “but what if you don’t fuck it up?  What if we’re perfect together, and happy, and it just makes sense?”

“Then that’s even worse!” he announced with a grin, and you laughed.

“What?” you giggled, letting him pull you a little closer.

“Then we get together, and you move in, and we get married and have a bunch of babies— and then that’s it!  Me and you, heading towards oblivion,” he described, pointing forward with his hand like it was a straight path to the end, “being, you know… grown-ups.”

You dropped your forehead onto his shoulder, laughing in exasperation.

“I know it’s stupid,” he admitted, “but that’s… that’s what scared me, I think.  And I guess I just liked how things were so much— well, that’s not totally true.  There were days where I thought I really couldn’t take it anymore, that I just had to be with you, but…”

“But you’re kind of a pussy?” you finished for him, and he laughed as his arm wrapped around you.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “very much so, actually.”

You looked up at him, and the way he looked back at you was painfully perfect.  And now that you saw it, you realized it wasn’t new— he’d looked at you like this before, when he woke you up on the store couch in the morning or when you made fun of him in front of everybody or when you helped him pick what to wear for a party.  How come you hadn’t seen it before?

It seemed like you’d been scared, too.  You could’ve just told him then, you could’ve just kissed him— but maybe you were both a little too afraid to rock the boat.  “I mean, your little future plan sounds nice, but…” you hummed, “I don’t want Rutherford.”

“Don’t rule out Augustus,” he warned, tilting his head and pointing his finger at you, and you laughed softly.

“I want you, Neil,” you breathed, feeling so many emotions at once as you finally said what you’d been terrified to admit for the better part of a decade.

He took a deep breath, too— like he’d been waiting a long time to hear that.  “I want you too, kid,” he admitted.  You could’ve asked him to stop calling you that now, but since it made your knees a little weak (thank god you were sitting down already), you let it slide for now.

“Okay, well,” you decided, scooting closer to him on the couch again, “let’s agree on something.”

“Okay,” he whispered.

“Let’s get together,” you said, trying to keep your nerve, “and I’ll move in, and we’ll get married and have a bunch of babies— but we’ll never grow up.”

He laughed a little, finally seeming a bit nervous, and reached up to touch your face: his knuckles rested on your cheek while his thumb pet your temple gently.  “Okay,” he said again.

Your heart raced as he moved in a little closer, turning himself towards you on the couch, and your eyes moved back and forth from his eyes to his lips to his eyes to his lips— he’s gonna kiss me.

Just when you were about to shut your eyes and let it happen, he pulled back slightly.  “Sorry,” he laughed nervously, “I— sorry.  Been thinking about this since I was seven, it’s a lot of pressure.”

Your heart warmed to hear him admit that.  “All these years and you never thought to just man up and kiss me?” 

“I did kiss you!” he defended.

“New Year’s doesn’t count,” you scoffed.

“Good,” he sighed, “because then there’s still a chance for our first kiss to be perfect.”

“Like the movies?” you asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly, holding your chin and tilting it back gently.  “Like the movies.”

It did feel like a movie; you could’ve sworn you heard dramatic background music alongside the pounding in your ears.  You took a deep breath in through your nose as you kissed him back, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him closer.  There was no point in acting coy now, he knew the truth— and you were totally helpless, this was all you’d been imagining for years and it was real: in that way, it was so much better than a movie.

His hands found your back and pulled you into him, until you hopped up and straddled his lap— holding his face, running your fingers through his hair, kissing him as desperately as you could get away with.

He certainly didn’t seem to mind, in fact he just held you tighter and kissed you harder and even pulled your hips down into his lap where you gasped at the feeling of a firm bulge in his jeans.  “You’re already hard?” you noticed, pulling back just enough to speak, and he laughed breathlessly.

“Jesus, you’re already making fun of me,” he coughed.

“I’m not!  Sorry,” you laughed, “I just— we only started kissing a minute ago—”

“Yeah, but— come on, kid, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, “and you can’t pull me towards you with my shirt like that without expecting a reaction…”

“I really wasn’t trying to get you worked up,” you cooed, “I just need you that bad.”

“Fuck,” he laughed, running his hands up your back, “you can’t say stuff like that either…”

“I can’t?” you pressed with a smirk as you ran your hands over his chest through the t-shirt.  “Or what?”

“Orrr I’m not gonna have very much patience,” he explained with a grin, “and I’ll just have to make love to you on this couch right now.”

“Oh, make love,” you repeated, shimmying your shoulders a bit, “you don’t have to be so formal, Neil.  You can just fuck me.”

He growled and grabbed you tight, throwing you down on the couch as you beamed and he descended upon you.

You tugged at each other’s clothes hungrily: you had on some baggy old shirt that he tossed aside quickly, he was wearing band merch that he barely stopped kissing you long enough to let you get over his head.  You’d seen him shirtless all the time when you went to the beach together or he just changed shirts in front of you (‘cause guys can just do that, your sanity be damned), you’d even felt him shirtless before due to playful wrestling in the pool, but wow it felt different to have his bare torso pressed against you, and you loved it already.

You know what else felt different?  Neil staring down, mouth slightly open as he panted, at your tits.  You almost felt self-conscious until he grabbed your waist and latching his mouth onto one needily.  

“Fuck,” you groaned, gasping as the tip of his tongue flicked over the bud of your nipple.  His hand squeezed the other one with just the right amount of roughness— his hands were big, and hot, and you’d put quite a lot of consideration into how they’d feel running over your skin.  They were lovely, as were his fingers pinching lightly at your nipple until you squirmed.  “Neil, c’mon—” you started to beg.

“Hold on,” he groaned against your skin, hot breaths tickling where his spit wet your breast, “been waiting a while to do this.  Wanna savor it.”

Well, he could savor all he wanted, but you had been waiting too long to have any patience left; you reached down and got his belt open with a little finagling, pushing his jeans down his legs with your feet.  His boxers, annoyingly, stayed up, but he smiled at you and started to pull your shorts down, too.

So there you were, laying together on your sofa— him on top of you, you staring up at him in amazement— both in just your underwear.  And socks, technically, but you weren’t really worrying about those at the moment.

“Are we gonna do this like they do in the movies, too?” you asked with a breathless laugh.

“They don’t show this part in the movies,” he replied quickly.

“Not those movies…”

He got your drift and grinned a little, but shook his head.  “No, not like that.  I want this to be, you know, special…”

“Neil, I’ve been in love with you since I was twelve.  It’s gonna be special no matter what,” you promised, holding his face for emphasis.  “Doesn’t mean it can’t be, you know, kinky.”

He raised an eyebrow in intrigue.  “Kinky?” he repeated.  “Would you mind clarifying that for me?”

You bit your lip and looked away shyly.  “Well, you know, I’ve thought about, like… like maybe how it would be if you tied me to the bed…”

He grinned.  “Alright,” he replied expectantly, waiting for the list to go on.

“Or if you bent me over your desk at the store,” you added, heart racing with nervousness to admit that fantasy, “and had to cover my mouth to keep me quiet…”

“Fuck,” he groaned in agreement.  “What else?”

“O-or, you know, that thing where you just keep someone inside you for hours,” you breathed, “and don’t even move, just keep it, you know, warm— we could watch a movie like that—”

“Jesus, kid,” he sighed, “you, um, you really thought this through…”

“Yeah…” you admitted, moaning softly and holding tighter onto his back as he leaned down and kissed your neck.

“I had no idea you were so dirty,” he laughed against your skin.  “Whatever movie we watch like that, it better be shit ‘cause I have no chance of paying any attention.”

“W-well, you said you thought about it too,” you remembered.  “What did you think this would be like?”

“I didn’t think about that, I’m too romantic,” he denied proudly as he hovered above you again, “I just thought about, you know, taking you on dates and buying you flowers and stuff.”

“O-oh,” you choked, embarrassed.

“Just kidding,” he winked, “I’m not a saint.  I thought about how you’d look riding me.”

You giggled slightly, glancing away as you were forced to imagine that, too.  

“And how these lips would look,” he continued, softening his voice and running his thumb over your slack bottom lip, “wrapped around my cock—”

“Fuck,” you whispered, nearly overwhelmed by the look in his eyes.  “I thought about that too…”

He growled and kissed you hard, reaching down to roughly tug your panties lower.  “God, I wish I had the patience for that now,” he mumbled, “but I just need to be inside you—”

“Okay,” you agreed happily, pressing yourself against him as you hugged him closer.

Sliding your hands down his back, you pushed his boxers down his hips and gasped when his cock sprung out and brushed over your inner thigh.

You reached down and grabbed a hold of him— mostly so you’d have a chance to get some idea of what he was about to put in you— and you both gasped for different reasons.  You couldn’t speak for him, really, but for you it was a sound of disbelief at how big he was.  Not, you know, concerningly massive or anything— you were thankful for that, in fact— but thick and long and curved and oh look you were already guiding that fat tip to your opening because you couldn’t wait anymore.

Clearly he was struggling with a similar impatience because as soon as he felt your entrance he shoved his hips forward and pushed inside— finding some resistance, just from his size, but then you went limp under him and just let it happen.

You were both breathing heavy like you’d run a mile, when you’d barely moved at all; he was only halfway in, and you already felt so full…

“Fuck,” he moaned at the feeling, “you’re so wet, fuck—”

But then he pushed in the rest of the way and you winced just from the intensity of it— it didn’t hurt, really, but it was… a lot.  In every sense of the word.  "Oh my god," you gasped, holding on tightly to his arms.  

He moaned louder, dropping his head into the crook of your neck; he put a hand on the top of your head to keep you steady (and close) as he pumped into you a bit faster already.  “You’re so fucking wet,” he said again— it would’ve made you self-conscious that he focused on that so much if it wasn’t obvious that it was driving him wild.  But you couldn’t really justify pointing out his sudden boner before when you were soaked like this, could you?

Fortunately, it seemed like he had long since forgotten about that…

It seemed like he never looked away from you, hardly ever even shut his eyes— he just watched your face, with a few detours to look at the way your breasts bounced with each thrust.

The pace was steady and simple, there were no fancy moves or dirty fantasies: he just kissed you sometimes, and watched you the rest of the time.  You didn’t say much until you started to feel the pressure building in your gut— up until that point, nothing needed to be said— but the way he was making you feel suddenly compelled you to start running your mouth.

“So good,” you blurted out, and he groaned a little in agreement.  “You feel so good, Neil…”

“Yeah?” he confirmed.  “Feels like we were made for each other.”

That was not only the most perfect thing you’d ever heard, but undeniably true: the curve of his cock seemed to fit right inside you; he was just big enough to push to the end of you without making your stomach hurt; every movement stretched your walls exactly how you’d craved for longer than you wanted to remember; and you were soaking him, and probably yourself, it was like you just couldn’t stop.  Every movement made you feel more insatiable and yet more perfectly satisfied— it was impossible, but it was happening.  That’s how it felt: impossibly good.

“Doesn’t it?” he asked, like he was worried you didn’t agree, but you only hadn’t said anything because you knew how loud you would be if you opened your mouth.

“Yes!” you cried out, dropping your head back— see, that’s exactly what you were worried would happen, but he just growled and fucked you deeper.  “Yes, fuck yes, Neil—”

“Uh huh?” he encouraged you gruffly, holding you a little tighter, watching you with darker eyes.

“Yes, oh my god,” you choked out, whining and digging your nails into his back sort of unintentionally.  “S-so deep…”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and you take it so good— you feel so fuckin’ perfect, kid…”

Wow, yeah, you really should’ve hated being called that in a moment like this, but you enjoyed it a little too much.  "Fuck, m'gonna—" you began your warning.

"Come," he finished for you— no, it was a demand.  "I want you to.  I wanna see it."

"O-okay," you breathed, "just don't… don't stop…"

He shook his head, fucking you a little faster as he panted.  "Not gonna stop," he promised, "not until you're so fucking full—"

"God, Neil," you whined, the pressure in your gut building more and more, making your legs tighten around his hips.

"Until I've given you every drop of come," he continued with a grunt, "and it's fucking dripping out of you—"

"Fuck."

"For days—"

"Fuck—"

"Tomorrow at work—" he mentioned specifically, and your back arched as it hit you; jolts of energy crawled up and down your back, your walls clenching rhythmically around him.  

You definitely said something but you were too fucked out to keep track of it.  How was it your job to know what you said?!  It was something with oh my god and Neil somewhere in there for sure, but that was all you knew.  He didn’t even slow down, by the way, just keeping his pace and mumbling praises to you with a rough voice.

As the raw pleasure faded, you found a new feeling swelling within you— a sudden mix of all sorts of emotion, growing faster than you could fight it off.  You’d never felt like this, at least in this specific way, but you knew all too well what was coming: you were about to cry.

You weren’t sad, you were anything but sad, but apparently there were just too many pent up feelings and recently-released hormones coursing through you for you to do anything but cry.  It happened so suddenly that you couldn’t even think about how you should handle it— if you should warn him or suddenly get up and run away so he wouldn’t see you like that.  You were terrified he would be confused and overwhelmed by it, but you were out of options; you bit your lip as it started to shake, tightening your hold on one of his shoulders, and sniffled involuntarily as tears welled in your eyes.

“Oh god, baby, are you okay?” he breathed, his movements coming to a halt, and you nodded your head feverishly.

“I’m okay,” you whimpered, “I’m fine— I’m really good, I’m just—”

He sat up and pulled you up with him, sort of perching you in his lap, and you looked away as you tried to will yourself to stop crying but failed miserably.  “Do you want me to stop?” he asked softly.

You shook your head, hugging him so he wouldn’t see your wet face.  “N-no, don’t—”

“What’s going on?” he asked, smiling a little even as his voice was heavy with concern; he kissed the side of your head as he pet your hair gently.

“I’m just— m’just really happy,” you breathed shakily.  “I just can’t believe this is happening— in a good way.”

He beamed and pulled back to look at your face, holding your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs.  “Yeah,” he agreed, “I know— that’s how it feels for me, too.”

You choked on another sob, and he soothed you softly, holding you a little closer.  “Don’t stop, please,” you whispered, “you said you wouldn’t—”

“Yeah, but I gotta make sure you’re okay,” he laughed.

“I am, really,” you insisted, with a sniffle, “it’s happy tears, I promise.  Y-you can keep going, unless all the crying is turning you off…”

“No, it’s okay, kid,” he promised with a little laugh, leaning down to look into your eyes when you tried to glance down, “hey— it’s sweet, okay?  And I always thought you were kinda cute when you cried— um, not in a creepy way, but, y’know, like… when we watched sad movies and stuff, and you would hide your face in my shirt—”

You whimpered and shoved your face into the crook of his neck.

“Kinda like that…” he mumbled, rubbing your back as he laid you back down on the couch.  “Hey, shh, it’s okay… m’gonna move again, alright?”

You only nodded a little, holding onto him tightly, still crying but managing to get a moan out when he carefully thrusted into you again.  He found his pace again, though slower and gentler than before, and lifted himself partially to hover above you.  Pushing away some hair that had clung to your face, sticky with sweat and tears, he smiled down at you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “look up at me…”

Afraid to face him like this, you hesitated but blinked quickly as you looked back at him.

“You look beautiful,” he promised quietly.  “This is how it was supposed to be, okay?  This is how it always should’ve been.”

You nodded in agreement, starting to cry a little harder— though it was pure joy, there was no other way to describe it.

“And this is how it’s gonna be now,” he assured, “you and me.”

“Yeah,” you whispered under your breath, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.  He kissed you again softly, and the rest of it was like that: more gentle and patient, shockingly tender, until you two were just melting into each other and you shamelessly gave into every emotion and sensation he guided you through.

~

Today, the store was running a special on cop movies— so you and Neil were, obviously, dressed appropriately in fake uniforms he got on clearance at the costume shop.  Was yours technically a reconstituted ‘sexy cop’ with fishnets and a tight latex skirt?  Yes, but you at least ditched the fuzzy handcuffs…

You were sitting on the front counter, swinging your legs and watching Neil as he roamed the store, your eyes lingering on the way those navy blue pants did his ass more than a few favors… the whole outfit was working for you, shockingly.  The badge, the aviator shades— you were even beginning to see the appeal of the fake mustache.

He seemed to notice you looking, and he smirked at you proudly as he set down the tape he’d been holding.

“Hey,” Neil purred, taking off his sunglasses somewhat dramatically— he sauntered up to you, putting his hands on the counter on either side of your legs.  He had that sparkle in his eye as he looked you up and down, and you bit your lip.  

“Hey,” you returned, reaching up to drape your arms over his shoulders.

“You look cute,” he hummed at you proudly.  “Who picked out this outfit for you?”

“Oh, that would be my super weird boss,” you smirked, your fingers tracing the neckline of Neil’s semi-unbuttoned uniform shirt and the slightest hint of chest hair peeking out from it.  “He makes me dress up to promote our specials.”

“He’s probably got a crush on you,” Neil suggested with a grin.

“You think so?” you cooed as you leaned down, kissing him with a smile still on your lips— but you made a little face and pulled back.  “The mustache feels weird…”

“Mm, but you’re still gonna kiss me, right?” he assumed proudly— he knew damn well you found him totally irresistible.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a giggle as you kissed him again: deeper, and longer, but still slow and sweet.

The front door jingled as Jonathan walked in.  “Woah, hey, workplace!” he groaned, covering his eyes for a minute, and you laughed as you broke away from the kiss, shoving Neil aside and hopping off the counter.  “How are our resident lovebirds doing?”

“Horny,” Lucien answered in a thoroughly unamused tone.

“Well, why don’t you let us take over for a couple hours?” Jonathan suggested with a shrug.  “Me and Luc can manage and you two can, you know, take a long lunch and shake each other down.”

“What?  No,” you grimaced, shuddering at the idea of Jonathan and Lucien waiting for you two here and knowing exactly what you were doing a few blocks down at Neil’s apartment.

“Alright,” Neil agreed at the same time, but quickly changed his answer to a rushed “n-no, yeah, definitely not.”

Lucien smirked and Jonathan shook his head.  "Suit yourselves," he replied as he walked away.

You planned to walk away, too, and finally get back to work, but Neil wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into him.  You smiled and hugged him back, leaning your head against his chest with a satisfied sigh.

When he let you go, you lingered for just a moment longer before finding the strength to pull away and get back to work— yet again, he stopped you, this time by touching your face to turn it back to him and softly mumbling ‘hey’.

“What is it?” you asked quietly as you looked up at him expectantly.

“I love you, kid,” he said gently, petting your cheek for a second.

“Wh-what way do you mean that?” you wondered, and he furrowed his brows with a smile.  “Like— we used to say that sometimes,” you went on, awkwardly stammering as you looked down again, “but, you know… we never meant it like that—”

He interrupted you with a soft whisper of your name, getting your attention once more, tilting your head until your gaze met his.  “I only ever meant it one way,” he admitted.  “That way.”

one year later…

You wandered through the crowded video store, doing lots of waving and greeting and patting of shoulders— thanking everyone for coming out to celebrate with you.

A gaggle of women suddenly descended on you with giddy delight, and you took turns hugging them and repeating your practiced line about how you were so glad they could make it.

“You look great,” Helen informed you, and you dismissed it with a wave of your hand.  “No, really, it’s so cute!  You look good in white.”

“You think so?  I was worried it would be weird,” you admitted as you looked down at the silk cocktail dress.

“No, it makes perfect sense,” Priyanka said, “and it’s so cool!  Is it real vintage?”

“Yeah, you know how we are,” you shrugged and laughed.

“Well, let’s see the ring!” Helen insisted with a squeal, and all three women yelped happily when you brandished your left hand for them to get a good look at it. 

“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous!” Georgia gasped.

“Thank you,” you beamed, “I can’t imagine where Neil got the money for it— god knows it wasn’t here, I’ve seen our margins!”

The ladies all seemed to grab your hand at once and yank it closer, tilting your finger to watch the stones sparkle in the light.  As they fawned over it, you looked over and found Neil watching you, beer in hand, looking totally smitten.  You waved with your free hand and got a small wave back, making you smile even wider.

You split away from the girls after a while, soon stopped by one of Neil’s only friends who actually had this whole adult thing mostly figured out: Marcia, though her husband and baby were across the store meeting the many, many guests who wanted a chance to hold the precious thing.

“I always knew he loved you,” Marcia insisted as she winked at you.  “I’m so glad he finally figured it out.”

“Yeah, me too,” you agreed with a laugh.  “It’s been great— like, really great.  All the fun we had before, but—”

“But you get to have him all to yourself?” she assumed with a grin.

“Well, sure,” you admitted, “but not just that.  He’s changed a lot, you know.  He’s still the same Neil I always loved but…”

You trailed off, but she nodded like she understood.  “But he’s grown up,” she finished for you.

“We got together on the condition that we wouldn’t grow up,” you explained, “that we wouldn’t change and get, you know, boring.”

Marcia rolled her eyes, making you feel much younger than her than you were.  “That’s what you figure out eventually,” she replied, “that growing up is a lot more fun when you’re growing together.”

Her unexpectedly sage advice was still in your head almost an hour later, when you and Neil reunited at the back of the room.

“You ready?” he asked you softly, and you nodded with a smile.

“Been ready for this for a long time,” you replied.

Neil got the crowd’s attention, motioning for the guests to gather in a vague semi-circle facing you and him; you squeezed his hand, feeling your heartbeat pick up just a bit.

“We just wanted to thank you all for coming,” Neil explained, “I mean, it’s so special to have everyone we love gathered in our favorite place…”

You looked out at the crowd filling the store and noticed that, all together, it was a lot more loved ones than you realized you had.

“And with that in mind, we do have a little announcement,” he continued with a beaming smile.

“Pregnant!” Lucien blurted out, and you glared at him as a fellow guest slapped him on the arm.

“Not that,” Neil laughed, “maybe I shouldn’t have said it that way but, uh, anyways…”

“This isn’t just our engagement party,” you admitted with a grin, “it’s our wedding!”

You pulled the mini-veil out from where you’d hidden it in a fake VHS clamshell and quickly clipped it on, the crowd clapping and gasping, and you motioned for Jonathan to come forward to do the honors.

“The bride and groom have prepared special, joint vows,” Jonathan explained as he stepped up beside you both, pulling notecards out of his pocket.  You and Neil faced each other, holding your hands together between you; he even swung your hands a little as he smiled at you, and you laughed softly.  “Do you take each other in marriage, for life, no takebacksies?”

“We do,” you both replied.

“Do you swear to tell the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?” he asked, and you gave him a confused look.  “Sorry— wrong line.  Watching too much Law & Order…”

Your spectating friends and family chuckled, though some seemed nervous with Jonathan making a joke like that during your literal wedding ceremony— but you thought it was perfect.  You wouldn’t have asked Jonathan to officiate if you didn’t want some ill-timed, goofy joke.

“Do you promise to keep each other close in body and spirit, to share your joy and pain, and to face every day together as best friends and life partners?”

“We do.”

“And do you swear,” Jonathan went on, suddenly getting very serious and lowering his voice, “to always, without fail… be kind and rewind?”

The crowd chuckled, and you and Neil agreed enthusiastically: “We do.”

“Then, by the power vested in me by a very shady website that I think might have been some kind of minister license scam out of Estonia… I now pronounce you husband and wife,” Jonathan beamed, throwing his notecards in the air triumphantly.  “Now kiss each other, ya idiots!”

It was one of those wedding kisses that went on a little too long, a few whistles and whoops from the crowd alerting you that it might be too steamy for such a public moment— but damn, was it perfect.  As much as you just wanted to grab onto your husband and never let go, both of you were instantly swarmed by loved ones wanting hugs and to offer their congratulations.  You obviously obliged, thanking everyone you could for being a part of this impromptu ceremony… and basking in the joy when most of them said something about how they always expected this or couldn’t believe it took so long.

“Congrats, man,” Jonathan mumbled to Neil as he grabbed him by the shoulder.  “I think this is the part where she fucks me and kills Lucien.”

“Shut up,” Neil scoffed as he shoved Jonathan away, but he couldn’t stop smiling— and he couldn’t stop staring at you. Here's looking at you, kid.

[tiannasfanfic]

Luck

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington (Fluff)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: After a wild night out at The Hideout, Eddie Munson wakes up in bed with some unexpected company and no memory of what happened.

Rating: General Auidences

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, no pronouns used.

CW: Recreational alcohol and marijuana use; tobacco use; heavily implied sex (no details); could be seen as dubcon due to the use of mild altering substances, but I tried my best to address it in the story that this is something they all wouldn't done sober, too.

Word Count: 4,345

Eddie Tag List: @eddie-swhore

Waking up after a hard night of drinking was always strange and unpleasant. In all honesty, that was why Eddie Munson preferred weed. Sure, getting drunk could be fun with the right people, but the next day was always a little slice of hell on earth.

Today was no exception. Rather than gently lifting up into consciousness as he woke up naturally, he was instead woken up by a severe pounding in his head.

Eddie opened his eyes briefly and groaned in pain before closing them again. The open curtains allowed the late morning sun to illuminate the room. The bright light sent bolts of pain through each of his eyeballs, making the headache worse. It was a steady pounding feeling, as if someone were in his head playing a drum solo.

Rolling onto his back, Eddie brought his ring clad hands up to his face to rub his eyes for a bit before attempting to open them again. While it still hurt, at least he expected the room to be so bright this time. Still though, it made his stomach turn a bit and his head throb even more. He knew if he tried to get up right now that his stomach wouldn’t be feeling too good either. Eddie decided his normal hangover cure was in order.

Shutting his eyes again, he rolled over towards the center of his bed, fully intending to go back to sleep. He threw his arm out to stretch across the empty space next to him.

Instead of stretching out like he intended though, his arm landed on something that cause it do bend at an awkward angle, as if draped over something. Eddie cracked his eyes open again and lifted his head slightly. It took him a moment to process it, but he eventually realized there was someone else laying under the blankets with him, still sleeping peacefully.

While bringing someone home with him from The Hideout wasn’t a completely uncommon occurrence, it didn’t happen very often. And, when it did, he was always sober enough to remember it once he woke up in the next day. Right now, though, Eddie couldn’t even remember how he got home from the bar last night, much less remember bringing someone home with him.

Though Eddie’s head was still pounding, the idea of sleep was forgotten. He started wracking his brain, trying to piece together the previous night.

Corroded Coffin had a Saturday night gig at The Hideout. That much he remembered. It ended up being a fantastic show. All of their friends came out for it, and they drew in a fairly large crowd since they were playing on the weekend. Granted, the bar was still under half capacity, but it was one of their largest crowds to date and that was something to celebrate. And, after the show, that’s exactly what everyone had done.

Eddie remembered Steve buying a round of drinks after the performance. He remembered you and him sneaking off to a stall in the men’s room to share a joint. He remembered Gareth ordering a round of shots when the two of you got back. Then Robin ordered a round of drinks after that. And then Jeff ordered another round of shots after that. At some point, he vaguely remembered tequila getting involved. But, after that, there was nothing until just a little bit ago when he woke up.

After thinking on it for a while, he gave up on trying to remember, figuring that would come back later. But Eddie was curious now. He reached over to gently pull the blanket down a bit to see who it was he ended up taking home with him.

Eddie froze, still holding the blanket.

You. You were lying next to him in bed.

Eddie’s mind whirled, his heart pounding as loudly as his head by this point.

You’d never been in bed with him before, even just to sleep. There were only a few times you’d ever stayed over, only on nights when you couldn’t drive home or the weather was bad, but he always slept on the couch those nights so you could have the bed to yourself. There had to be a logical explanation for this.

Out of curiosity, he lifted the edge of the blanket and looked down.

Eddie’s heart stopped.

You both were completely naked.

He stared down at your bodies as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing.

You were laying with your arms folded against your chest and half on your stomach, which blocked your private areas from his view. All he could really see the full length of your bare leg all the way up past the curve of your ass to your hip.

Your hip that currently had a hand on it, which was neither his nor yours.

Eddie sat up hurriedly. It was quite a shock realizing there was a third person in bed with you two, but that was nothing in comparison to the shock of seeing who exactly it was.

Curled up on your other side was none other than Steve Harrington.

Once again, it took a moment for Eddie to comprehend what he was seeing.

The section of blanket on Steve’s side had slid down some, revealing that he was shirtless. Though, another peek under the blankets revealed that he was just as naked as you and Eddie were.

Fully in shock now, Eddie slowly laid back down. He stared at the ceiling, wracking his brain again in a desperate attempt to remember the night before.

The fog of alcohol and the headache from the hangover blocked off his memory still, so he gave up again and debated on what he should do next.

He supposed he could just leave and come back later after the both of you had left, but that would only delay the inevitable. You two would still be waking up naked in his bed even if he wasn’t there to see it. Eventually, this would need to be addressed if you all wanted any sort of friendship after this. It was going to be awkward when the two of you woke up. That much he knew for sure.

Now in desperate need in of a smoke, Eddie carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake either of you. He found a pair of sweatpants among his laundry scattered about on the floor. As he pulled them on, he noticed your clothes and Steve’s flung haphazardly around the room, along with the clothes he had been wearing last night. He swallowed heavily, quietly heading from the bedroom.

As he made a pit stop in the bathroom, Eddie was still trying to figure out how you all ended up in bed together. He knew what it looked like. He was well aware of what it looked like. But it couldn’t possibly have been that. No way. He’d never been drunk or high enough to act on his attraction to either of you. The only thing he could think of was that all you all started feeling hot from the alcohol, stripped down to cool off and just fell asleep. That had to be it.

But then as he went to leave the bathroom, he glanced in the mirror and did a double take. Scattered along his upper chest, neck and shoulders were hickies and bite marks of various sizes and shades.

Stunned, he stared at himself for a moment. He turned slowly then turned to get a good look at the rest of his body. While there wasn’t any more hickies that he could see, streaked down his back were several dark pink welts that were clearly nail marks. In addition to that, just above his shoulder blades were a few crescent shaped bruises, like someone had dug their nails into his back while holding onto him.

Eddie’s jaw dropped. He met his own gaze in the mirror.

“What the fuck did you do?” he said softly to his reflection.

In the living room, Eddie found evidence that you three had hung out here for a while before migrating to his bed. A few empty beer bottles littered the coffee table and a half-smoked joint sat in the ashtray. Eddie slipped on his jacket and sneakers before grabbing the joint on the way to the front door.

This morning called for something stronger than a cigarette now.

Trying to stay quiet, he left the front door partially open and gently closed the screen door. The sun was even brighter now that he was outside, which immediately got in Eddie’s eyes and made him wince. His head was throbbing even more now that he was up, which, as predicted, was starting to make his stomach queasy. He lit the joint first, hoping to calm his nerves as well as the effects of the hangover. Once that was gone, he fished his cigarettes out of his pocket and began chain smoking.

Not too long after Eddie started on his first cigarette, a very groggy, and very hungover, Steve sat up in bed. He rubbed his eyes and squinted as he looked around the room. Confusion sat in as he didn’t recognize where he was at first. But then after his gaze landed on a couple of guitars and one heavy metal poster after another, he slowly came to realize he was in Eddie’s bedroom.

This didn’t come as a surprise to Steve though. The plan the night before had always been to come back to Eddie’s place at the end of the night. Nancy had picked the three of you up from there since it was her turn to be the designated driver, so you all had left your vehicles there. While he didn’t remember coming to bed, he had vague memories of sharing a cab with you and Eddie once the bar had closed, well after Nancy and the others had left. He remembered you three wanted to continue partying and you two decided you were staying the night. Wayne was out of town that weekend for work training, so Eddie was all for having you two over for the night.

As Steve went to swing his legs out of bed, a sudden throbbing in his head made him double over slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs, eyes squeezed closed and slightly watering.

Getting drunk is always a good idea until the next day.

Halfway through his third cigarette, Eddie heard someone stirring in the trailer through the screen door. Whoever it was, be it you or Steve, was trying to be quiet, but the creaky floor wasn’t having it.

Eddie wasn’t any closer to figuring out what he was going to do. Leaving still seemed like the best idea, but it was too late for that now. The keys to his van were on the kitchen counter.

Fortunately, whoever was it was didn’t come outside, giving him some more time to compose himself. He listened to them shuffle across the living room, pick up the phone and dial a number.

Whoever they were trying to call didn’t answer because Eddie heard them hang up then try again.

“C’mon, pick up,” a voice muttered from inside.

Eddie couldn’t tell who it was until whoever the person they were trying to call finally answered.

“Robin! Finally!” they whisper yelled. “I’m freaking out over here!”

Eddie finally recognized the voice as Steve’s and some of his nerves eased hearing it was Steve, but he still wasn’t quite ready to face him just yet. Creeping closer to the door, he listened in on Steve’s side of the conversation.

“You’ve gotta help me out, I don’t know what to do!” Pause. “I can’t calm down! I just woke up next to Y/N in Eddie’s bed!” Pause. “Robin, we were both naked!” Pause. “No, I’m not joking!” Pause. “Seriously, Robin, now is not the time for jokes!” Pause. “I don’t know if I had fun, I don’t remember anything after leaving The Hideout!”

Knowing that he wasn’t the only one in the dark made Eddie feel a little better about the whole thing. But then a thought occurred to him, and all of his nerves came back.

In a way, he hoped you wouldn’t remember any it either. There was no telling what your reaction would be to all this. There wasn’t any use trying to deny what happened anymore. The three of you had a threesome last night. Or, at the very least, you and Eddie fucked. That much was obviously for certain judging from the way his own chest and back looked. But, then again, it wouldn’t make much sense why Harrington would be in the same state as you both unless he was also involved too. At least if none of you remembered what happened, that way you would all be a blank slate and could pretend it didn’t happen.

Granted, he didn’t know how that would be possible since you all would know it happened, regardless of whether or not any of you remembered it. But, if that’s what it took to still be friends after all this, he was willing to give it a shot. He didn’t want to lose either of you due to some stupid drunken escapade.

Eddie sighed and took the last drag off his cigarette as Steve was finishing his call.

Time to face the music.

He stepped back into the trailer as Steve was hanging up the phone. Steve didn’t hear him at first, giving Eddie the chance to get a look at him.

While Steve had pulled on his jeans, he was still shirtless, giving Eddie a good view of his torso. He could see some nail marks down his back, as well as a few hickies on his neck and shoulders.

There was one question answered, at least.

The sound of the screen door closing made Steve finally turn around, revealing more hickies across his chest. A sheepish look came over his face when he saw Eddie.

“Uh, hey,” Steve said, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Eddie said, fiddling with his rings nervously.

A brief silence fell over the two men.

“Y/N’s naked,” Steve suddenly blurted out, and then pointed towards Eddie’s bedroom. “In your bed. Back there.”

Eddie nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, swallowing heavily. “Yeah, I saw.”

“So was I,” Steve said, and once again run his hand through his hair. “Completely naked. Next to Y/N. In your bed.”

Eddie nodded again.

“Yeeeah,” he said slowly. “I, uh, was naked, too. With you two. In my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened and he swallowed heavily. He looked in the direction of the bedroom then back to Eddie.

“Do you think we…you know?” Steve asked, gesturing between the two of them and the bedroom, then gave the air a little thrust of his hips, as if he didn’t want to say what he was thinking.

“Obviously,” Eddie said, and gestured between the two of them. “Look at us, man. We had a pretty wild night from the looks of it.”

At Eddie’s words, Steve looked down at his chest. His eyes were wide as he slowly looked back up at Eddie.

“What the hell should we do?” Steve whisper yelled, looking close to panicking.

“I have no idea!” Eddie whisper yelled back. “I can’t say I’ve ever woken up like this before, much less with either of you!”

The two men stared at each other for a moment before Steve sighed.

“Man, this is crazy,” Steve said, which Eddie nodded in agreement with. Then Steve sighed, his arms crossing over his chest. “Maybe…we should see how Y/N feels about it first?”

Eddie brightened.

“Good idea,” he said hurriedly, feeling somewhat relieved the overall outcome wouldn’t be on his shoulders. “If Y/N’s fine with it, then I’m fine with it.”

Steve nodded readily in agreement. He opened his mouth to say something else but cut himself off when the sound of the toilet flushing came from the bathroom down the hall.

Both men whipped their heads around at the sound. Neither of them had heard you get up. Soon, they heard the bathroom door open.

Now it really was time to face the music.

Since facing Steve had gone easier than expected, Eddie braced himself for your reaction. He was fully prepared for a meltdown. He expected you to be upset, and even braced himself for tears. He expected some yelling, possibly some screaming. There might even be some accusations, though the possibility of you thinking anything like that made Eddie’s stomach clench. He hoped you would know that he would never take advantage of you while you were drunk…but, then again, could he really say that since he didn’t even remember what happened? The very idea alone made his stomach clenched even tighter.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were dressed in your clothes from the night before. You were humming softly, which struck Eddie as strange considering the circumstances. You usually didn’t hum all that much, just when you were in an exceedingly good mood. This didn’t really strike Eddie as an occasion where you would be in a good mood though.

As you started to turn into the kitchen, you looked up and saw them in the living room.

“Morning fellas,” you said, smiling brightly at them both before ducking into the small kitchen.

They could hear you start to open cabinet doors. Eddie and Steve both looked at each other, deep confusion on their faces. It didn’t seem like you were bothered by the state of things at all. Maybe you hadn’t put two and two together yet? You woke up alone in bed, so it was possible.

You came back a moment later and stood in the doorway to the living room. A box of cereal was tucked under your arm, and you were eating it dry right out of the box with your free hand.

Aside from the crunch of cereal and the sounds drifting in from the outside, the room was silent. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence but wasn’t really an uncomfortable one either. It was just a silence.

Eddie started rubbing the back of his neck nervously, his gaze flicking repeatedly between you and Steve. Steve was in a similar state, one of his feet tapping anxiously and he kept crossing and uncrossing his arms, his eyes looking between you and Eddie. You seemed to be the only one relaxed, munching on your cereal and looking between the two men.

It seemed like everyone was waiting on someone else to start talking first.

After some time of this, you cleared your throat, which made them both look back over at you.

“Uh,“ you finally said, smiling shyly at them. “Hi.”

“Hi,” said both Eddie and Steve at the same time.

“I, uh,” you said, then stopped to clear your throat. “I had a lot of fun last night.” you said.

Before either of them could process what you just said, you started laughing nervously and shook your head.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. “That was a really weird thing for me to say after everything. I mean, obviously, I had fun.”

Eddie exchanged another look with Steve, then back to you.

Now you were the one who looked nervous, taking their silent exchange of a look for something else.

“Did, did you two have fun, too?” you asked, shifting on your feet.

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“Well, um, that’s the thing, Princess,” he said, then stopped, unsure of how to phrase things.

“We were, uh,” Steve continued after a moment. “Actually trying to figure all that out. What happened last night, I mean.”

Your eyes widened at their words, and you looked back and forth between the two again.

“You guys don’t remember?” you asked.

Both men shook their heads.

Your mouth dropped opened in shock.

“Exactly h-how drunk were you two last night?” you asked softly.

“I don’t remember leaving The Hideout,” Eddie confessed, with a shrug.

“I barely remember the cab ride here,” Steve said. “Nothing after that though.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, an expression of horror on your face.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you said, your voice remorseful and you looked on the verge of tears. “I had no idea you guys were that drunk, I swear!”

“No no no!” Eddie said, taking a few steps forward so he could rest a hand on your shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This isn’t your fault.”

All of a sudden, a very sheepish look came to you face and your cheeks flushed a bright pink.

“Actually, um,” you said. “I kind of initiated the whole thing.”

There was a moment of silence.

“What whole thing?” Steve asked, voice quiet and tinged with awe.

There was another moment of silence.

“You know,” you finally said, then gestured between the three of you, as if you were hesitant to say it. “Us. Having sex. It was my idea.”

There was a lot longer than just a moment of silence after that one.

Steve nearly fell over where he was standing but managed to catch his balance.

Eddie’s hand dropped from your shoulder in shock to hang limply at his side.

Now that it was confirmed, Eddie tried once again to remember the night before. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. The fog of alcohol was still too thick to penetrate with his head in the state it was and straining to think didn’t do anything but make the headache worse.

“So, um,” Steve said, finally breaking the silence and making Eddie look up. “H-How did it happen?”

“Well,” you said slowly, swallowing a bite of cereal. “We’ve all been flirting pretty heavily with each other for a while now, and I’ve had a thing for both of you for a long time before that.” A bashful grin came to your face then. “So, I may have gotten a little buzzed and handsy at the bar, and you both were into it. After we came back here, we had a few more drinks and, well…” You cleared your throat and looked down shyly. “I decided to try my luck and asked if you two wanted to have sex with me.”

Both Eddie and Steve stared at you in shock.

“You’ve had a thing got us for a while?” Eddie said when he finally found his voice again.

You nodded.

There was a short pause in the conversation as they processed this.

“Well?” Steve said after abit. “What’d we say?”

Eddie looked over at him with a raised brow. As if their answer wasn’t obvious already.

“Truthfully, not much,” you said as you looked up. “It escalated pretty quickly after that. Though, you both did double check to make sure I fully understood what I was saying after the alcohol and weed.” A warm smile came to your face. “I thought that was really sweet.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to look down shyly.

The room was got quiet again.

“But you said you had fun, right?” Steve suddenly asked. You nodded in confirmation. “Then that must mean we did good, right?”

Eddie looked over at Steve, gawking at him. While this was an entirely new situation for him, Eddie was pretty sure it was in poor taste to ask for a report card after having a threesome.

To his surprise, you didn’t seem to mind. Biting your bottom lip, you grinned and nodded.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin himself then, a boost of confidence suddenly coming back. It briefly made him forget about the oddness of this situation.

“Yeah?” he asked, then decided to be bold. “How good?”

Now you were blushing again.

“Well, I’m pretty sore today,” you said, your voice going a bit higher pitched, so you had to clear your throat before continuing. “You both were pretty enthusiastic all night.”

It wasn’t too long after that you had to leave since you were supposed to meet up with family later on. The three of you kept conversation light as you and Steve finished dressing, talking about your plans for the day.

Once you got ready to leave, you gave them each a soft kiss on the lips.

“Hopefully once the hangovers go away you guys will remember some of it,” you said with a smile as you headed for the door.

“I sure as hell hope so, Princess,” Eddie groaned before he could stop himself.

While he turned red at his own words, you giggled at him as you opened the door to leave. It was the first time Eddie had ever heard that sound from you and it made his heart speed up. It gave him even more of his confidence back.

“If we don’t remember, any chance there could be a redo?” Eddie asked before he could talk himself out of it.

You froze in mid-step halfway out the door and turned quickly to look at Eddie. The shock on your face was almost comical. A quick glance over at Steve showed him staring at Eddie in horror. Looking back at you, Eddie gave you his biggest grin and winked at you, which he was delighted to see made you blush.

“Um, I-I don’t know,” you said, and then a grin of your own slowly spread across your face. “Maybe. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You sent a wink back at Eddie before leaving then. Steve wasn’t too far behind, heading out himself just a few minutes later.

Plopping down on the couch as he listened to Steve’s car driving away, Eddie sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Initially, he didn’t have plans for today, but now he knew what he was going to spend the rest of his day doing.

Trying to remember fucking his two very hot best friends.

[emeritus-fuckers]

i just had. a very cute idea. papas with an s/o that loves baking. 🫶🫶🫶

Papas with s/o who likes baking

TW: mentions of drugs (weed).

Primo

He enjoys baking as well!

He would absolutely get the two of you matching Aprons

He would be the one to have an old notebook full of recipes, the ink of the pen he wrote them with washed and faded, the paper curled at the edges and tanned with age.

Let's you decide what to bake, and always helps if you ask for it.

Will bake for you if you're sad.

Secondo

This man cannot bake or cook to save his life.

He will not be allowed in the kitchen, because he will somehow burn whatever you are baking, even if you just asked him to whisk the eggs.

He is will stand just out side of the kitchen though, and just happily watching you bake and move around the kitchen

Will demand to eat everything that you make, and will demand you bake him cookies the night after one of his parties, to cure his hangover of course.

Terzo

He also cannot bake, but damn if he doesn't try.

He will do his best, doing simple things such as whisking eggs or preheating the oven.

Will flirt with you the entire time you're baking. Baking pick up lines.

He will steal a cookie or a piece of cake before it's had any time to cool down and then cry into your chest, being addimaite that the treat had attacked him.

Copia

He loves baking!

Primo taught him how to bake a few things, so he is more than happy to teach you or learn!

He will pull you in for a cuddle session with flour covering the both of you, giggling as he kisses your head and couldn't care less about the flour getting all over the both of your clothing.

You can catch him stealing treats off of the pan just when they're cool enough.

Also makes treats for his rats.

Old Nihil

Thinks it's adorable.

He's pretty much useless in the kitchen, so he just... sits there and stares at you.

Compliments your skills on every single step.

You took milk out of the fridge? You're absolutely amazing.

You read the recipe? Damn, you're so good at reading recipes!

He adores you so much.

Praises the hell out of what you made. He loves it. It's honestly adorable.

Young Nihil

He's not too fond of domestic stuff, so he doesn't really care too much at first...

But then you make the most amazing weed infused brownies ever and suddenly edibles are his favorite way to get high.

He cannot be trusted with most things in the kitchen by he does like watching and do little things for you.

He'll hand you ingredients (you have to pay him with a kiss for each one) and hold you from behind as you do things, nuzzling into your neck and getting it covered in his paint.

And besides, a little fun while you wait for whatever you're baking is in the oven can't hurt, right?

~

Papas I-IV written by Zenith/Jasper.

Papa Nihil written by Nosferatu.

Taglist: @charlie-is-a-menace @copias-fluffy-asscheeks @randodummy @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @calliedion-dungeon @randominstake @callmeicaro @nuntia @dio-niisio @mamacarlyle @firefirevampire @mybotanicaldemise @emo-mess @natoncesaid @sirlsplayland @ouijaboardemo @lightbluuestars @igodownjustlikeholymary @thatoddboy @strawberriiblossoms @dark-angel-is-back @choco-meow69

[ink-and-dagger]

idea. healing mage in zaun who heals others in exchange for protection and money. Has a enchanted pipe that always has weed in it. Will charge a fortune to topsider clients and chump change to anyone from zaun because fuck the first one, they can afford it. Gets paid extra to help at babbettes with her girls, and oddly enough, the best return customers are workers wanting a cure for their hangovers. no one fucks with her because she is like 90% Zaun's entire health care.

Okay but imagine this as a fic. Singed appeals to Silco because there’s this new healer on the scene undercutting his business, and so Silco is like “Don’t you worry ol’ buddy ol’ chum I’ll get rid of them for you.”

Then when he goes to hunt down healer reader they’re like “huh, interesting eye, bet I could come up with a treatment to reverse some of the necrosis and alleviate your pain more effectively.” So of course Silco is like “hmmmmm interesting. Very well I shall let you live for now but don’t tell my buddy Singed because he’ll be mad and I need him on side.”

Then of course he starts to fall ass over tits in love with reader throughout the healing sessions. And Singed is trying to sneakily get rid of reader on his own steam so Silco has to keep intercepting/deflecting the attacks without Singed catching onto the fact that he’s the one protecting reader.

Anyway that’s just a thought fart. I’m not gonna write it, so if anyone wants to take it go right ahead.

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Henry’s little karaoke performance (or lack of) has me wondering:

How each of the guys who lives at 179th Crescent Street feel about a good old karaoke night?

Who likes it? Who needs alcohol or weed to participate?

What’s their favourite song?

I get to talk about my boys? I GET TO TALK ABOUT MY BOYS!!!

Thank you so much for this ask and... let's get right to it! I added the ladies too because... Well I was having fun with this and I can use a little bit of that right about fucking now so, that's why <3

179th Crescent Street Karaoke Headcanon

Series Masterlist

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @livisss @summersong69 @ylva-syverson @poledancingdinos @sillyrabbit81

Will our favourite man-child sing? Absolutely

Does he need to be drunk? No

Will it be good? Absolutely the fuck it won’t!

Will being drunk help? That depends.

Him being drunk won’t make him sing better, you being drunk might help make it bearable though.

Will probably sing Barbie girl, Girls just wanna have fun, 9 to 5, Wannabe, ... Baby one more time (You get the idea)

100% guaranteed to look ridiculous, 120% guaranteed to not really give a fuck.

(Bonus: no secondhand embarrassment necessary because this boy gets up there with CONFIDENCE)

(And if anyone makes fun of him he looks them dead in the eye and goes “Okay, your turn, then?”)

(They never do.)

Will need copious amounts of alcohol, yes

But absolutely will sing.

Alternatively; needs no alcohol when Angie begs him. He will say yes to her. Always.

(This man is whipped and he loves it.)

Not horrible, but not great

Does Angels kinda well, actually!

Highly unlikely

But he has this rare mood...

He’s not bad, either.

Sings something like Summer of ’69 or Living on a prayer.

You’d sooner catch him singing in the shower though.

Will gladly serenade Lexi

In private

He’ll sing her Heaven

No.

I would love to see you try to get him up there

I mean... He SHOULD

He sometimes sings The sound of silence while making dinner (Disturbed, not S&G, of course)

It’s to die for!

But no.

Won’t do it.

Can’t make him.

You can’t convince me this smooth motherfucker doesn’t have the voice of an angel.

He might need some liquid courage

(to find the motivation rather than the nerve, though. He’s nothing if not confident...)

Imagine this man making eyes at you while singing I want it that way?

Like. Excuse you, ma’am, but no matter what you say you’re going home with him.

When there’s no girl to impress he’ll go with Africa or Every breath you take.

Once

After the hockey team won the finals

The whole team sang “We are the champions”

He has no recollection of this

What he does remember is the 2 girls that were in his bed when he woke up, the 2 glasses of water that got tossed in his face because he didn’t remember either of their names, which did nothing to cure the hangover he would have for 2 days because he had WAY 2 (haha get it?) much to drink.

There’s a video

Somehwere..

It’s hilarious

He’s bad

Very, very bad

Do not get this man drunk near a karaoke machine.

Okay maybe do it once, because it’s funny.

Shania Twain. Taylor Swift.

Do I need to say more?

Actually yes I do.

He doesn’t have a horrible voice, but he’s drunk, so...

If you manage to persuade him before he’s plastered, he’ll sing Tennessee Whiskey and he won’t sound half bad, actually!

After that... Just picture this man singing Man! I feel like a woman.

He doesn’t get away with looking silly the way Mike does, but also couldn’t care too much so there’s that.

Not a fan of publicly humiliating himself

And knows himself well enough to know he can’t sing

So, logically, no.

Bonus; The girls!

Danielle

Can sing well, usually

But she’s too anxious to sing without getting absolutely hammered.

And by then it won’t sound so good.

Not to mention this uncoordinated mess will probably trip over a cable and break an ankle

Maybe if Mike holds her they can pull off Don’t go breaking my heart? 🥺 That would be really cute.

Anjelica

By now we’ve established that Ange can do anything

A little liquid courage is necessary, but nothing 2 shots of tequila can’t fix

She likes to sing Valerie or No One

And she will 100% absolutely fucking SLAY.

She’s a queen, ok?

Elena

Good voice.

Took singing lessons when she was younger, actually

Her mom forced opera on her though, which she hated, so she quit.

Can, and will, sing Celine Dion if given half a chance

You have not lived until you’ve heard her sing My heart will go on.

Sherlock may or may not have cried. Idk.

Solveig

Can sing

Will not

Alexandra

When hell freezes over

When Easter and Pentecost fall on the same day

Over her cold, dead body

No.

(Sings in the shower. Does not do so very well.)

Alicia

Will get up there stone cold sober

Will perform her sexy li’l ass off

Will serve Absolute. Fucking. Cunt.

Before He Cheats was written for this woman.

Carrie Underwood who?

Ariel

Will do it for fun

After a few drinks

But not alone!!!

Sloane

Can sing and fucking KNOWS it.

Loves to sing Whitney Houston

But her all time favourites are Ready or Not and Killing me Softly

Really, truly, 100% has THAT voice.

Why does she want to be a doctor again?

[popcornforone]

A Quick Snack

A Max Phillips Fan Fic

Do actual writing I need to over a long weekend… nope. Write a new Max Phillips Fan Fic… absolutely. Yep this was not on my radar, but here we are. Our favourite Vampire. Before you read I’ve only watched Max once & it was years ago but I have read enough to think I can get him right. Sorry if he’s not.

Synopsis: Max is your hangover cure, which give him his own high & is a good arrangement. But does a family reunion mean you will become more than a Snack for the creature of the night.

Word Count 6k

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 NO MINORS! PIV sex, mentions of other types of sex, Vampire lord & Vampiric traits including blood, murder, drinking, violence & devouring. Anger, stress, alcohol, drugs. Established relationship. I thinks that’s everything.

As always thank you for the read all feedback is welcome.

“We found love in a hopeless place, we found love…” it’s 1am & the bar is closing in half an hour & you’ve had a lot of cocktails & fun tonight, the perfect night with your friends. Dancing your heels away has started to hurt, but you are on such a high. A high that will definitely leave you with a hangover. That is a bit of an issue, you’ve got a family reunion lunch tomorrow & then party in the evening. If you turn up drunk, your parents will be disappointed in you & your grandparents will be disgusted. It’s okay though, you have a plan to cure it, which works every time.

As the bar closes you count your friends after they get filthy burgers & chips to help sober them up but you know not to, it’s not part of your cure but you do buy a bottle of water. “Are we all here & ready to go home” “no” Jess shouts “i still want to dance &…”she stumbles to the ground spilling her bag across the floor. You’re the mum of the group even drunk & help her up. You get everyone in the taxi line & when you know you are two taxis away you message him.

*almost home baby, ready for a quick snack*

You giggle as you get a reply that says

*ooooh nice, always delicious*

“Wooooo I’ve seen that face on you before, what’s his name?” Clare asks. You hide your phone but don’t see Maya look over your shoulder “It’s Maxie! that’s what her phone says ahhhhhh” “shhhhhhhh” you go to her. “When do we get to meet him?” “Is he nice?” “Why isn’t he out?” “Is he good in bed?” “Girls seriously!” You stop them all. “If you remember all of this tomorrow night I might let you know about him on Sunday” the taxi pulls up & you all climb in.

You are so grateful your apartment is on the ground floor, the idea of walking up flights of stairs is a step too many for your feet. You go inside & kick your shoes off sighing in relief”finally oh that feels good”. You stumble into the dark to the kitchen, past you remembered to put a bottle of water in the fridge & you grab it, before grabbing a bag of peas from the freezer & placing them on your neck. You gasp at first, feeling the coolness connect to your skin but it needs to happen to help your hangover cure. Without doing this you’d be in no fit state for tomorrow.

You remove your dress when you get into the bedroom & pull your thick blinds. You’d hoped he would already be here to make this even more enjoyable for you but he’s not. You take off your bra as well & slide on your strappy night dress. It’s made of silk & is red & clings to your body. The bed sheets you lie down on are also dark, so it can cover up for any mishaps. This is all preplanned & ready for your nights out & it works well for the both of you. You look at your phone, no messages to say he’s late or delayed. You remove the peas, lay on your back & your ears are pounding from all the music & booze. No weed or drugs, he doesn’t enjoy that & you want to make him happy.

You are almost asleep when you hear the bedroom door creek open. His broad shadowy figure instantly recognisable. Your hangover cure, your lover, & the man you are tomorrow going to to introduce to your family at the evening of this reunion party. Max Phillips. A creature of the night who you met on a drunken night out 18months ago. He was after prey but felt sorry for you as you tried to deal with your friend who was being kicked out of a bar. He helped you get her home & you asked him what you could do to thank him & that you’d do anything. You thought his fangs were fancy dress before he started kissing your neck & then bit into you, getting him drunk & curing you of your hangover in 5mins. He flew off but he’d already added his number to your phone. The next time you went out you asked if he was free & you had passionate sex in your apartment as he sunk his teeth in your neck. You both enjoyed it. He gets a high each time it’s not as potent a feeling as your hangover, but he sleeps it off during the day. Because of his powers it wears off much quicker than yours would. He loves it & so do you, it’s a good arrangement, but you now both agree that this needs to go a step further. He’s agreed to turn you at Halloween, the perfect day for you to also become a creature of the night.

“Even in a tipsy state & in a half light, you are still beautiful, my beloved” he smirks & slowly walks across the room. You’ve left the bed side light on so there is a small glow to the room. “Max, what took you so long” you reach up as he sit on the edge of the bed, undoing the top button on his shirt, dark blue. His skin always feels cold but so smooth. Lips that despite having no life in them always are so succulent to kiss. He may not have a beating heart but he makes yours race fast enough for the two of you. “Sorry darling, a guy was smacking his wife about & verbally abusing her while they walked their dog, so I am actually pretty well feed, & I had to go get changed before I got here.” “This is still going to work right baby” you question worried that he won’t want to feed on you as much, that you will feel rubbish tomorrow. “Also I wouldn’t have minded you being messy when you…” “yes you would have, he was a lot more than a snack” you blush. Max always is a moral person & doesn’t drink or drain for fun anymore, well he says that he always was but not since meeting you. But every now & then there is an exception because someone’s not a very nice person.

You sit up & place the bag of peas back on your neck again, ready to help numb the initial pain of the bite. You caress his face when you make eye contact before he kisses you. He may be cold but it still electrifies your soul, & the idea that this could go wrong always makes you shiver a little, there is always a slight risk. Max has always promised that if this ever does go wrong you will wake up after being turned 3 days later. “You ready my beloved, I know asking you in a drunk state isn’t exactly consent, but I need to know you are still happy with the risk?” He moves your long hair away from the left as he cups your chin “Maxie get bitey,” you giggle. That’s always been your confirmation. He removes the bag of peas,”the pleasure is all mine.”

You yelp. You always scream slightly. Feeling something sharp stab your skin always makes you yelp. Blood tests, piercings & tattoos always make you flinch & respond. His fangs have the same reaction. You grasp his thigh to make sure you don’t move so much, that he can sink into your flesh enough to get his flow to feed. The sensation is weird but arousing as he sinks deeper within the crook of your neck, knowing he will later be nuzzling into it when you have sex. You then feel a small trickle go down your shoulder. He’s found the vein that supply’s his meal. It’s cool as it starts to flow & you try to control your breathing. Being to turned on by this can lead to accidents & you pumping blood to fast. You have passed out twice because you’ve not controlled it. Thank god Max can also stop the bleeding with his vampiric powers.

Max moans as he slowly removes his fangs from deep inside your neck, making sure not to snip any over veins on his way out. His eyes have gone darker than they are anyhow, always large pools of chocolate dazzling back at you. “This is always my favourite meal, maybe it’s because we are dead soul mates” he sucks exquisitely on your neck taking his first slurp. His pupils dilate as the blood starts to coat his mouth. He loves you & that’s what makes the taste so delicious. He knows when he turns you he can’t drink from you anymore. He can’t drink from you all the time, he needs you fit & healthy & the best version of you before he turns you, he wants you to be happy with how you will eventually look for eternity. Fortnightly snacks are perfect or one off specialities like tonight when you need to be ready for the day ahead. His tongue glides across you & makes you moan & sigh. This means you’re safe, he’s not hit anymore veins & you’ve been calm enough that the stream he is feasting on is at a good pulse. He won’t spill a drop tonight.

You can hear him enjoying himself as he drinks, you know this roughly takes 5minutes, anymore & it becomes dangerous for you both. You don’t remember him setting a timer as he started to drink & you know you haven’t as you were almost asleep when he arrived. Anymore than 7 minutes will cause you to pass out & if he drinks too much he’s likely to want to devour all of you. No amount of turning would bring you back from that, you would be dead & that would be it. He can hear you gasp at this realisation & he can feel more liquid is his mouth as he swallows. He grabs your hand & rubs your knuckles, instantly soothing you. He knows he is too full to drink any further than 4mins tonight. He can feel your pulse & knows your heart rate so knows when to stop each time, unless he gets taken away, he only sets the timer to keep you at ease.

“Max you feel so good oooh baby, suck, drink it all, I’m actually going to miss you snacking on me I really am, it’s so intimate” the words are in a hushed tone as they part your lips. He has a smile on his face as he drinks thinking about how good his final snack of you will be. He slowly starts to move away, getting the last few drips in his mouth & presses his thumb across the two small holes on your neck. His mouth edges towards your ear, “delicious as ever baby, let me just seal you up.” His fangs as well as sinking into you, create an ooze that heals within minutes. It’s what flows in his veins to keep him undead instead of blood, but it does make him weaken, which is why he gets a little hungover from drinking you, after you’ve been out partying. It’s when the taste of your blood enters his system in these few seconds. The essence lands & seals the bite marks in seconds. It always hisses like a hot frying pan does when someone cooks bacon in it. You grown at the sensation, almost now feeling sober, but still with a slight high. He didn’t drink as much as usual but you know you will be fine for lunch tomorrow.

Max places the bag of peas back onto your neck to make sure there’s no residual follow up pain, before he licks his lips seductively & starts to take off his shirt. You glance up & see him roll his shoulders & start to rock his hips. The alcohol he’s drank out of your starting to make him playful & a tease. “Your hips know how to move baby they really really…”but your mouth drops open & the bag of peas fall to the floor & split open. Max has in one motion taken off his trousers & briefs, he’d been working on his fly & belt while he finished drinking you. He may not have any blood in his veins but he’s still long, girthy & erect, waiting for you to say yes. His trousers when he’s not hard, still show that Max should be very proud of what he has, he likes wearing those tailored trousers for that exact reason. “Bet no man danced like this for you tonight” he jokes a devilish grin appears on his face as his grooving body thrusts into the air. “I mean you’re technically not a man either baby” you laugh but then his hand is over your mouth. His blistering speed & reflexes means he’s hoovering over in a micro second as he also palms your mound as you moan into his mouth. “Do you consent Max?” You ask, knowing by the time he’s pounding you he will be drunk, “I do baby I do” he places his hand around your neck, not to harsh or forceful, but it means he can kiss your lips as he pushes you back into your pillows, & he glides his cock through your folds & into your core, your walls feeling every inch of his bare cock inside you.

Max is always silent during sex with you. It freaked you out the first few times, wondering if he felt anything due to him being dead, but he assured you he did, & that if he made noises it would shake more than just your body, the growl would shake the walls of the building. You learnt this when you had sex at his the first time. His sound proof room creaked as he plundered you. You enjoyed it but you love the pants & the eye contact he makes with you while he fulfils your needs. It’s intense beautiful yet disturbing & scary at the same time. You do make enough noise for the two of you. Each thrust you moan his name screaming at the end of any sex session. You moan into his mouth as he try’s to silence you with kisses which also keeps him quiet. His hand grips your throat further & makes you squeak, he wants to control your breathing, & by doing that makes you clamp down on his cock harder.

He stealthily withdraws, realising he was actually as well as his cock was pushing your knickers inside you, so he smoothly rolls them off your arse so they are now round your ankles, & then his relentless pace inside you starts again. A much firmer entry this time not holding back, a blistering pace to make you groan. He’s loving the sweet caress his hands are doing over your silk dress. Max doesn’t care that you’re covered by some slinky sexy material. Your breast are still hard & lifting the dress up as a tent due to his tease. As for your pussy, he is already inside you grunting, trying not to shout your name. He only needs to look at your face tonight, if he is going to go to euphoria with you. It’s not like he’s not seen your folds glistening for him before, though that’s his kryptonite. Seeing you masterbating as you are high on life is something else he would like you to do for him before you are turned into a Princess of darkness.

“Fuck Max fuck oooh yes yes” you body is pulsing at every thrust, every touch. You pull him close to you & lick the sweat off his long neck. Such a long neck. Perfect for nuzzling during a come down. Whoever got to feed on that neck before he was turned must have had an amazing time. He, she, they, them or a count, Max would have been delicious alive, because he’s pretty exceptional dead. He’s rocking into you hard, thrusting & biting his lip so he doesn’t cause your apartment to move. He is in a moment. He can feel the alcohol affecting him so he speeds up even more. His quick reflexes make him even faster than any man in the world, as his cock obliterates your core. You wonder as you sense your orgasm approaching, if he will be as fast when you also have these reflexes & speed. Not all vampires get the same power but you always pick one up from your master. You’re not his familiar but the deal is cast & he is the one who will be turning you.

You scream & growl “Fuck Maxie so bitey so big fuckkkkkk” & you cum. The orgasm hits you like a freight train & makes your whole body jolt & spiral. It’s the hardest you’ve ever had. Every sense is on fire igniting your being. You grasp his throat & can feel his rhythm change. He snarls & then digs his long nails into your hips. He fills you up, his seed coating you. He’s never asked if you were on birth control & has no idea if his swimmers actually could you pregnant, he’s dead after all. But you are on birth control just incase. As he slows & then leans into your body & whispers into your ear the 3 words you’ve always wanted to hear from any man. “I love you”. You gasp & kiss him deeply. When he’s done & collapses nuzzling into your neck, your stay in the embrace. You are sure for a second you can feel his heartbeat but then remind yourself he doesn’t have one. You eyes meet & he caresses your face. You sigh & say “I love you Max, beyond the forever, now help me sle…” Max blinks 3 certain ways to hypnotise you & you fall instantly asleep.

It’s the evening of the family reunion & it’s all gone well so far today. You’re a bit concerned, your cousin Amber is fretting about her husband who she argued with last night but he left the house & hasnt come home, but you’re also concerned that you’ve not heard from Max yet today. Usually he messages after he gets home from feasting on your neck & sex, so you will see it when you wake up. But not last night. You’ve message to remind him of tonight & that he is meant to be meeting your family & that you are sober, but not had a message back at all. So you’ve started drinking properly again & are on your 6th glass of champagne.

“Come do the monster mash” your sister try’s to drag you to the dance floor at your grandparents hotel that they own but you shake your head “no no no, my feet hurt to much from dancing last night, I can’t do it…” “did the hangover cure not fully work then?” Comes the smouldering tones from behind your left shoulder. You turn your head & smirk, pulling the biggest innocent but sexy eyes you have. Max is in a Black suit, white shirt & red tie. Hair pristinely in place. The perfect look to introduce any new boyfriend to your family “well I did get a very very good night sleep” you blush. He’s purposefully slow walking towards you before your fling your arms round his neck. He’s not hesitant in his kiss at all, rounding around your lips, kissing you with all the warmth in the world. His eyes dazzle back at you as you as always fall under his vampiric spell. He blinks once to make sure your still not hypnotised from last night & you pull on his dark red tie & lean in for the next kiss, only for your sister to say “erm hello I am still here, please finally introduce me to Maxie” you giggle & face her, as his hands pull you in close to his body. This is a big thing for him tonight, he doesn’t want you out of his grasp.

The last person you need to introduce Max to is your Grandpa which could be very awkward. “I’ve warned you about this Max okay please try & be you, but not you” Grandpa wheels over in his wheelchair & grabs Max hand firmly to shake it. Max hisses a little. “Max Grandpa was a priest, Max is Recruitment Manager & Motivational Influencer” you state. Years of touching holy water, means there’s still some residue on your Grandpa plus he had been to church that morning, Church & vampires don’t mix. “So will you make a honest woman out of my little snack” he asks. Max looks at you confused “snack?” He asks “when I was 4 I used to run round this hotel on a snack hunt, irritating the staff, so I became little miss snack” you giggle with your Grandpa & Max if he could would blush, he can feel he’s a little bit embraced as that’s his name for you too. “Yes, we’ve had a complicated relationship for a long time but I’m finally ready to commit to this, forever & beyond that” Max devilish smile is on his face as you sip more champagne “well if you do I still have my license, if I’m still around I can marry you in the name of…” “Grandpa!” You shout, trying to make sure Max doesn’t hear the word God & start to enrage, especially as he is a man of God, it would be too easy for Max to start devouring him. “It’s okay my beloved, your offer is sweet sir” Max says grabbing your hand “but my family, well there’s a lot of us, we have a very special commitment ceremony that happens, it takes place over lots of days & is very enjoyable” “I’m sure you can fit one more tradition in there for the brides family, all my grandkids have got married by my in my old church under God watchful protection”. You couldn’t stop it that time, Max is making a fist with his hand & is doing some heavy breathing. “Grandpa im sure that we will be able to sort something out with his, but Max & I still need to discus a few things before we get to that point” “well hurray up & decide you two, your not going to live forever & neither am I & id like to give you both a blessing” as he says that word he grabs both your hands, which sting Max as the grip is much firmer.

You leave your Grandpa & head into the garden for some air. Max did his best but all of that has made him uncomfortable & seething. He is proud he didn’t lose control for you, however if he doesn’t drink soon, he may snap into his full monster if provoked by anyone. Out of your hand bag you produce a small vile for him of your blood from when you cut yourself accidentally the other day & automatically thought to save us much as you could for Max. It’s not much but he smiles & it’s gone in 3 gulps. “Little does your Grandpa know that we will live forever my beloved” he tentatively kisses you, trying desperately not to bite your lip for more blood “he also wouldn’t like to know that I was born in the year 1916 & am older than him, imagine that.”Max chuckles “me finding my souls mate who’s 72 years younger than me” “& you don’t look a day over 35” you giggle & finish your alcoholic drink. He looks deeply into your eyes before he kisses you with hunger & desire. You push him away slightly & raise a finger to his lips. “Maybe we should both be drunk for the end of this party?” You ask, Max raises an eyebrow “the flows from your finger is not good enough to cure you baby” he says “that is true but why don’t you concentrate on sucking my finger while I…” your other hand is undoing his belt buckle. “Oooh my little snack oooh yes” he licks up your finger, when you both suddenly hear a high pitched scream from the house of Sheer panic.

You both run back inside when you see Amber screaming hysterically at everyone. She’s just been asked to go & identify a body that they think might belong to her husband. “Max can drive her there he doesn’t drink, I’ll come with you baby” you volunteer the two of you & you head off. “It’s okay Amber I’m sure it’s a false alarm it’s fine.” “But they said on the phone it was like he had been eaten by a lion, whoever’s body it is, even if it’s not Kanes, im scared to look at” you calm her down in the back seat of the car, her dad mum & 2 siblings are following in a Taxi. “Im sure he’s fine, no one would hurt him” “yes they would he’s not a good person” & that when you can see through here tears the bruises on her face. “Did he…” “every night for the last month he’s either physically or mentally abused me, he left in anger when I said we didn’t need to walk around the block with the dog again last night, he punched my face, called me a whore & then left…” you sit there saying reassuring things to her. However it’s only when she gets out of the car & heads into the station with her family, that Max sighs & puts his foot down to drive away very suddenly.

“Max what the hell what’s up” you say as you crawl Into the front passenger seat from the back of the car, he slows down as you attempt this, but speeds away once your in the seat “did he have a buffalo tattoo?” “What!?” “Her husband Kane did he have a buffalo tattoo?” “He had lots of tattoos Max I’m not sure…” you pause & then look concerned “was the dog a Jack Russell?” You ask & his face looks embraced as he turns to face you “MAX!!!” You scream & he does an emergency stop. You’re panting & in a panic,”did you kill & eat Kane? Did you! DID YOU!?!?” Your stare is hard, if Max had a soul this look would be destroying it. “Max you promised me a year ago, you had stopped eating people at random. There’s no excuse for this at all” “he was abusing her” “two wrongs don’t make a right Max! I can’t believe it, I though you were on the straight & narrow” you grab your bag & go to undo the car door but it’s locked “Max let me out I…” be he speeds off into the Forrest, jolting you back into the chair in panic.

“Max, let me out, Max, I can’t do this, you’re scaring me baby, please I want to be alone, please” He stops the car & you face him. He’s not looking at you, but you can tell he’s angry. “Max please, drive me home please, please please…”& then you freeze, he’s turned to face you in his full vampiric hunting form. His eyes are dark crimson Red, his fangs long & his growl is earth moving. The car & trees surrounding you shake from the noise he just made. You’re petrified to the seat & can’t move. “Max no, Max I can’t, Max let me go I…I… ahhhh”… He lunges forward.

You leap out of bed screaming & you hear your alarm going off. “MAX!” You scream ferociously & you see he is in your kitchen in his briefs washing his hands. He turns around startled before dashing back into the bedroom “what is it my beloved, what’s wrong” you grab your phone & check the date, & time silencing the alarm, the family party starts in just over 2hs. It was all just a dream? Your breathing is raged & you know to calm it you should hug Max to feel him being cool against your skin, but you don’t want to until you hear him confirm something. “I… I had a dream while i slept in your hypnosis” “&..” he asks while caressing your knuckles & checks you are fully out of his trance. “last night before you drank from me, you said you’d snacked on someone who was abusive & was walking a dog… did you kill him… did he have a Jack Russell?” Max laughs, “of course I didn’t kill him, I don’t do that anymore, why did you dream I did?” “But it was a Jack Russell right?” Max sighs “yes it was” you go to complain but Max continues “I hypnotised him then ruined his mental state & then started to drink him but he had been smoking pot, so I just dumped his hypnotised ALIVE body back on the porch. The reason I was late getting to you was because I hate blood that tastes of drugs, so I wanted to clean up first, if I’m gonna drink from my best supply I don’t want my mouth contaminated” you blush a little. “Sorry Max I dreamed you murdered him & then kidnapped & tried to devour me instead of turning me” Maxs grabs your hand, “the only thing I want to devour of yours is that glorious little cunt you have”

He straddles across you on the bed, & pushing you into the mattress, before finally Removing your red silk night dress exposing your naked body to him. “Do I have time for a taste before you have to leave?” He mumbles as he trails kisses down your neck. His large hands palming & squeezing your breasts. “I think you’ve only got time for one, I need A shower before I go, so sex or oral baby? You pick” you giggle. The way he sits up & puts his thumbs in his waist band answers your question. “I want to make your walls quiver around me while I fuck your precious little cunt” he releases his length stroking it leisurely before swiping it through your slick to lubricate it. You gasp as he nudges nearer & the you wrap you legs round his waist. “I know you have all the speed & vigour in the world baby, but I want you to fuck me like you would have when you were human” he giggles a little “so rampant after the Second World War sex it is then” you laugh & go to speak but your voice turns into a whine as he slots his penis inside you & starts rocking his hips.

Max sighs as he hears you gasp for air, his cock sliding through your walls as he rocks into you. One had on you hip massaging it, the other between your two bodies teasing your clit, the way he knows you like it. “Over 70 years of sex dead or alive, has helped me work out what to do with a woman’s body when she’s needy bbbuutttt…..oooooh fuck” you push into him & he can feel every inch of your core “but I….”he’s panting “I’ve never had a cunt as responsive as yours my beloved” Max rolls his head back & the shoulders jutter, his torso breathing breathily. He may not have blood or a pulse but it still doesn’t mean he can’t get a work out or out of breath as he has sex with you. “Max your talking during sex, should I be concerned…” “no my love, just RTwwaeeeerrr Arghhh” he grabs onto your hip & growls loudly & you can not just feel your body move & respond to his passion but you can feel the bed frame wobble. If this was hard fast vampiric sex you’d expect this but no, this is because his growling & talking, it’s is actually shaking your bedroom. You swing your arms round his neck & pull him down to you “kiss me through it Max, that will keep us both quiet & keep the building in one piece”.

Lips of desire, that for over 90 years have kissed countless women. Have feasted on everyone & everything, that can kill you in an instant. Which house fangs sharper than a butchers knife. Poison coursing through his veins & a curse of the undead. & yet when his mouth connects with yours in this moment, it’s sweet, silent & succulent. He has decided you are his undead souls mate, you were just drawn together. He’s never had this connection with another person before or after being turned. & he’s looked, oh has Max tried everyone, but now here he is with you in your 1 bed apartment in 2023, on the city outskirts, making love to you a receptionist for a local adverting company, pounding into your pussy at the slowest rate he can (which is still fast compared to most men) knowing your blackout blinds won’t fail, & that the only burning sensation he will have is his frozen heart trying to come back to life to make you stay & not go to your family party. He loves you & he can’t wait to have you as his when he has turned you. You might be normal & boring to the rest of the world, but you are the person Max has been searching for all his extraordinary life.

As your lips part he has to go faster he needs more friction, more moans from you. If your neighbours hear he doesn’t care. In 4months time you’ll be living together as vampiric soul mates else were. Let them complain about your moaning, you’re both having fun & not hurting anyone. His pelvis is thrusting & his cock throbs as he can feel you tighten more against him “Maxie ooooh Max fuck fuck fuckkkkkkk” “arghhhhhh” Max growls & the painting on the walls start to shake as he screams the words “this fucking cunt is insane”. Those words & the glass in a frame shattering make you both cum within 4 thrusts of each other. You shut your eyes & scream in desire before you feel his hot lips, covered in sweat from his face, lock with yours. “Fuck yes baby oh ooooooh my g…” he shhhs you before you can say the word god. It’s always been hard to to scream that during sex with him.

After snuggling for a few minute you realise what the time is & know you’ve got to get a move on. You shower & get dressed “ooooh you’ve gone for Dark Red & Gold I see, I’ll make sure to pick out my tie that matches” Max giggles & you throw a pillow at him as he wraps his dressing gown around him.”it’s a ruby wedding anniversary it makes sense doesn’t it & you are sure you’ve got my grand parents address, remember he…” “used to be a … yes yes I know my beloved” & he follows you to the door of your apartment. You wrap your arms around him & deliver 3 pecks to his lips. He tries to bite it on the third. “Remember not to eat any of my family later okay, especially Kane even tho he deserves it” He laughs & stands in the door frame as you step into the natural daylight in the hall way to leave the building “why would I want to bother with them, when I can snack on you later, especially as I’m driving, drink all you want baby, I can get high off you later.” You lean back in & kiss him once more “Oooh Maxie, always so bitey” you say as you let go of him. “7pm see you then” he calls out as you leave your building. You get in the taxi & send him a message

*were both each others snack baby*

*well I’d best get some sleep to work up all my appetites for tonight then could be a long night*

You smile at his reply, realising that soon he will be your forever. He might no longer have you as a snack, but you both know that forever with each other won’t be long enough for the plans you have.

[l0veraven]

Going live with Minecraft! (Feb. 6)

Almost cured from weed hangover. More modded Minecraft! Come join in!

Watch this VTuber stream on these platforms ❤ Twitch Kick VStream Picarto

[schizautist]

​john takes one way-too-long hit and goes into a ten minute long coughing fit that ends with him throwing up in like the worst possible place. (once he calms down hes completely gone tho like. unbelievably zonked)

rose uses one of those old timey cigarette holders to hold the joint and like. gestures around with it while going on one of her tirades. its completely burnt out by the time she pauses to take another hit

jade grows her own strains i mean have you SEEN the flowers in her greenhouse she is a connoisseur. i bet she invented terpenes that make the buds jump up and sing and dance. i think she also carries at least five smoking apparatuses with her at all times

dave gets so so so scared and hates weed so much but would never admit that even to himself. he probably smokes dirt. just complete ass. seeds and stems all the way baby. and i bet he hasn't cleaned his pipe ever in his life. oh i think he made an apple juice bong once probably and then forgot he used it as a bong and then drank it

jane. hmm. i think she may be the exception to this bc i dont think she smokes weed. she makes homemade edibles. they r probably the best edibles u will ever taste in ur entire life

roxy cannot sleep or wake up without smokin. i just KNOW weed carries her thru those hangovers, there is no better cure

jake the typa guy to eat a bud raw and then say it doesnt taste that bad and force himself to swallow it bc spitting it out would be admitting defeat

dirk is a sativa soldier thru and thru. how else do u explain why hes like that all the time. he probably vapes tho the fucking loser. with some pretentious overly complicated contraption he made himself

aradia probably awakened her time powers by getting so unbelievably high that she could feel the timelines themselves coursing through her. iykyk

tavros (coughing baby) vs roach in the ashtray he thinks he can squeeze one or two more hits out of (hydrogen bomb)

sollux has two wolves inside him.. indica and sativa..

karkat rolls the saddest wettest most pathetic joint in the universe and then smokes it all by himself out of spite and gets so so so so so so scared

nepeta snoop dogg. snoop catt.

kanaya is the goat at acting sober. she doesn't even have to try she just is like that

terezi is probably all about that weed stink. u know shes alllll over that stank. she probably gets insanely paranoid tho and thinks theres some big scheme afoot that only she can bust

vriska rolls the perfect joint every time. what the world doesnt know is that she spent ages secretly watching youtube tutorials and practicing over and over and over. the first dozen or so were worse than karkat's

equius broke the bong.. and the pipe.. and he snapped both the joint AND the blunt in half..

gamzee. need i say more

eridan insists that weed just "doesn't work" on him and that he just doesn't get high and even accuses everyone else of faking it. he smokes a full blunt just to prove it and then proceeds to lose his fucking marbles

feferi has the frooty tootiest fancy ass buds around. she doesnt outwardly act like shes better than us dirt lovers. but she finds a way to show it anyway

thats it thats all im doing this is already too much

every homestuck character smokes weed but to varying degrees of success

[pinkrelish]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶He made it clear he never wanted to see you again, and yet, here you were running into him face-first after he hunted you down.✶

NSFW — parent death, alluding to abuse, light angst, 18+ overall for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 4/15 [wc: 3.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 4: Waffles Heal All Wounds

A diner. That’s where you woke up. The frowning woman knocking on your car’s roof told you so.

Squinting from the sun behind her, you rolled down your window and tried to appear more awake than you were. “Hi?”

She put a hand on her hip where her brown half-apron was tied. “You’re illegally parked.”

You leaned your head out and, sure enough, when you had pulled into a parking lot last night out of desperation to avoid an embarrassing death of ‘cried too hard and hit a tree,’ you parked sideways, taking up three spaces. “Oh shit, sorry.” You fumbled for your keys in the cupholder under a mountain of tissues.

Maybe it was how haggard your appearance was, or specifically the streaks of dried mascara on your cheeks, but she took an ounce of pity on you. “Cops like to stop to get coffee here, didn’t want you getting a ticket,” she said, going inside to flip around the sign on the door.

“‘Preciate it!”

Having nothing better to do until later, and still reeling from the after effects of your massive post-sob hangover, you decided a morning beginning with a stack of syrupy waffles sounded amazing right about now. You adjusted the rearview mirror and scrubbed yesterday’s fuck up from under your eyes, staining your crisp white tracksuit’s sleeve. Doing your best to tidy up your appearance regardless of the nauseating remorse churning your stomach.

“What else did I expect?” you chided your reflection.

The same middle-aged woman from earlier sat you at the booth in the corner. It was your decision to face the wall. After the memories of last night had flooded in, you just wanted to be left alone to sulk; head in your hands, waiting for food you were losing the appetite for the longer you stewed over what you’d done.

When the waitress returned to take your order, you were still hunched over, rubbing your palms into your eyes. “Waffles.”

“Long night?”

“Yeah.”

“Waffles cure everything!” she expelled her wisdom, chipper than when you were causing her problems in the parking lot.

“Doubt it.”

Nursing your headache with soothing sips of fresh coffee, you sat in disillusioned silence. Tinny music cut in from a radio near the kitchen. Someone turned the pages of a newspaper. The door chimed. Chimed again. Tiny birds chirped, hopped, pecked around the concrete outside. A chair creaked as someone sat down a few tables behind you. None of it an adequate distraction from your cynical sentiments about being in the small town you had ambivalent feelings towards. Hating your rather optimistic bout of nerves yesterday at the prospect of seeing him again. Building and building. Excitement, adrenaline over seeing your childhood best friend. Hoping.. Hoping against all odds he’d be just as happy to see you too.

Stupid.

So stupid.

Two waffles appeared before you. A small cup of syrup and a packet of butter, too. Delicious. Unfortunately, you weren’t hungry for more than half of the one on top, surrendering by dropping your fork and knife on the plate, not caring about the loud clang they made, struggling to chew and swallow what was in your dry mouth.

After what seemed like the longest thirty seconds of your life, you drank the rest of your coffee and scooted to the end of the booth and stood up, too busy ruminating on your failures to pay attention to what was in front of you.

RATT.

The band’s logo came into focus a fraction before your nose collided with it. Along with patches on a jean vest. Hints of weed and alcohol despite the gentle, sober breath grazing your face. The invading scent of stale cigarette smoke and worn leather. Old Spice, too. You’d think he’d find something new to wear since you left, but he didn’t, and somehow, the pang of nostalgia was both comforting and vicious. A trap you understood like an old friend.

Standing toe to toe with Eddie, you were shivering in the artificial cool air. He was warm. A welcoming presence once upon a time, now stiff and awkward with your sudden proximity. Bodies touching on accident due to your timing of getting up to leave the moment he approached. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped; the only tell he was equally as flustered as you. When you forced your gaze to meet his, you caught the flick of his eyes lifting from elsewhere lower on your face.

“I’m ready to talk,” he stated.

Relief and fear was evident in your simple, “Okay.” You motioned for him to join you, and of course, he was already moving to do so without your permission.

This booth was not made for two people on tentative speaking terms. Sitting across from Eddie, the top of the table was cramped with your plate and drinkware; underneath, you fidgeted until your legs were between his, so he could stop stepping on your shoes. He knocked your right knee in the shuffle and you clenched your teeth to hide the wince.

“You look rough,” he said, clearly indicating the smeared lines of mascara on your cheeks.

“You look handsome,” you retorted in the same deadpan tone.

Against his will, his eyebrow quirked. Sincere amusement flashed in his dark brown eyes. A charitable glimpse of the boy you used to know. “Haven’t been called handsome in years. If I call you beautiful, can I have the rest of that?” He pointed at the waffles, and of course, you were already pushing them towards him.

And that was it. That’s all it took for you to fall victim to your old ways. Volunteering, practically, to fawn over the most minute of details in how he ate with your fork. Chewing with his mouth slightly open, always. Sipping from your water glass.

Either he’d meant to put his lips over the exact print your chapstick left behind in a sort of pseudo kiss, or he had impeccable aim.

The waitress lingered at the end of your table gripping her notepad and tapping her pencil on it nervously, shifting her gaze from you to the cops at the counter staring you down with a fierce sneer.. Well, not you. They were glaring at Eddie’s existence, who was distracted by the birds outside.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked.

Eddie swept his attention to her, a grand smile on his face and hands clasped cutely on the table. “Could I get a coffee, please and thank you?”

She didn’t look at him. Rather, eyeing his myriad of heavy metal patches. Making assumptions about him and turning on her heel. Treating him differently from how she treated you, regardless of the fact you may as well have been cut from the same cloth. If it bothered him, he didn’t let it show. In mutual agreement, you remained quiet in the lulled purgatory of lapsed conversation, waiting until she returned with his coffee, refilled your own, and walked away to pick up where you left off.

“So..” Eddie stabbed another piece of waffle. “Why’d you leave without telling me?”

“Starting with the million dollar question, I see.” You sank back into the dense cushion of the booth, and when that felt too far away for your private conversation, you rested your forearms on your thighs and picked at your cuticles. “Do you know what my last memory of you is?” Glancing up from the plate, he shook his head, and you’d never recover from the way his curls bounced.

Accepting your burgeoning grin, you wore gladly, aware it wouldn’t last. “We were standing in your kitchen. Riders on the Storm was playing in your room. I had just blown out the candles on the birthday cake you made me and I remember thinking how that was the nicest thing anyone had done for me, birthday or not. It meant even more coming from you. The year before that you picked me flowers, which I still have pressed in a book, by the way, but there was something special about you going through the trouble of baking me a cake and decorating it. We’ve known each other for most of our lives and not once have you looked at me like you did when I took a piece. You were just so.. I don’t know, proud of me.” You exhaled a long sigh until anxiety closed in on your lungs. ”I wanted our last memory together to be a happy one. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“Did you eat it? The cake?”

“Hell yeah.”

He allowed his smirk to come through. “Good. Didn’t want it to go to waste because of your mom.”

“Right..” you agreed, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants. Your change in demeanor was palpable. An omen like vultures circling the obvious. Eddie’s rings clinked on the table as he set down the fork, tilting his head to get a better read on your expression painted in melancholic hues from the rogue cloud covering the sun.

“You made me strong,” you said, crossing your arms and digging your knuckle into your lip, savoring the mild pain on your gums. “You know I couldn’t cry around her, or else she’d.. whatever. I would just hold it in. All day. And when things got really bad, at night I’d play the BBC Radio’s adaptation of The Hobbit. It’s not the same as you reading to me, but it helped.” Outside, the birds flew away. “I thought about you every single day, Eddie.”

“I thought about you too,” he admitted, tearing open sugar packets. Your heart leapt at each scrape of the spoon against the ceramic mug. “Tried not to.”

Prepared to hear as much, but at a loss for words, you prompted him for more, “Yeah?”

He ran his tongue across the back of his teeth. “Yeah.”

One uttered word wielded like a weapon. You had never seen him angry before last night. Pissed off over inconveniences, sure, but last night.. He hated you, and though you could hazard a guess why, he hadn’t explained his side of the story yet.

For someone who wanted to talk, he hadn’t said much.

“I thought you would be okay.. I mean, I was the one moving to a new state and starting over from scratch, at least you had other friends here.”

“Not like you,” his vulnerability was whispered, “Our friendship was different. You knew that.”

“Eddie..”

Finished eating, he set the plate at the end of the table and ran his hand over his face. Doing the thing he did when he wanted to hide how upset he was; dragging his fingers over his closed eyes and down to his jaw. Working through the sting of knowing a memory he hated was beloved by you. Confused as to what he should be feeling when the night that changed his life for the worse was meant to comfort you through trauma. Was it right to be mad at you?

A difficult thing to parse when so much of sitting across from one another was intrinsic to your time together, having done it casually day after day, cramped together at the small green table in his kitchen, or huddled at the end of the cafeteria table away from the other students, or skipping class to sit at the picnic table in the woods. Longing for the familiar territory of one another’s company and not knowing if it could ever be the same, or if it would last.

“Listen, I don’t remember much about the day you left,” he explained. “Or the days after, really. I kinda went off the deep end, but I do remember telling Wayne I knew you were leaving and I was just taking it hard, so he doesn’t know the full scope of everything, if you were wondering.”

Even when faced with your betrayal, his first priority was protecting your image.

The desire to hold his hand consumed you. It manifested in tears spilling over your lower lashes. It clutched onto your breath. An urge so severe it panicked you, and yet, its inappropriateness kept you frozen. “I never meant to hurt you. I.. F-Fuck.” You stared at the ceiling, gathering your emotions. Imagining a time when you two were inseparable. Laying in the grass, listening to music together.

When you could speak again, you accepted your consequences. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. I don’t know where to go from here, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. I’m so sorry.”

Pennsylvania State University Women’s Gymnastics Team. A chance at a better life. Reading the embroidery on your jacket with the same somber expression as last night, he spoke aloud softly, honestly, “You were right to leave.”

Patting down his pockets for some substance to escape the past, and finding nothing, he changed the subject instead. “I imagine you didn’t drive all this way to give me closure, so why are you really here?”

“Well, I guess that’s as good as a segue I’ll get..” Thankful for the switch in mood, you made a few more uncommitted hems and haws, bouncing your leg against his inner thigh. “She, uh..” You waved your hands, searching for the words, and settling on a lilting, “She.. died?”

Rightfully so, he angled his ear at you and clarified, “Your mom died?”

“Like two months ago.” You shrugged, wide-eyed, waiting for his reaction. He made a drinking motion. “Yep, liver failure.”

“Do you want my condolences?” he asked straightfaced.

You pulled a short, but comical, grimace and offered the truth, “Nah. It’s complicated, I guess. I should feel sad she’s dead, but in some ways, I have my life back.. I never told you, but my bank account has always been under her name. She’s had full control over everything, starting way back when I worked at Benny’s on the weekends. Even up til she died, she used my student loan money to go on benders. I specifically got another waitressing job so I could skim some of the tips without her noticing. She’d still berate me if I didn’t earn enough, so it was a tough balance, but it was the quickest job I could think of where she couldn’t access everything.” Eddie reached into his jacket’s inner pocket to take out the envelope you left for him. “No! Keep it, really. It’s for you and Wayne. Or, at the very least, to pay you back for all the weed over the years.”

Hesitating, he accepted you weren’t going to take it, and put it back. “I never would’ve made you pay for weed.”

You snorted. “What a gentleman.”

“You could’ve made more tips by stripping, just so you know.”

“I take back what I said.”

Deflecting to your mugs of coffee after the short fervency of your eye contact became too heated, you continued, “Her death has been a real bitch to deal with. Not in a sad way. Just, God, it doesn’t quit. One thing after another. I didn’t expect to have literally nothing in my bank account, and do you know how expensive dying is, even after the medical bills? Not only did I have to put together some stupid funeral arrangement for this bitch, I had to do shit like terminate the lease on her apartment. And you wouldn’t believe how bad this woman trashed it. Had to hire help to clean it out, and now I’ve come to find out she’s still paying for shit like the lot in Forest Hills.” You rolled your eyes to the high heavens. “Who fucking knows why. Probably just to waste my money. Anyway, that’s why I’m still here. I’m going through the process of having everything transferred in my name and having them demolish that fucking trailer–which reminds me I need to schedule a dumpster for that because the contractor won’t supply one. Oh! And as a bonus ‘fuck you’ because Hawkins is ass-backwards and hates me, they won’t accept anything by fax. I have to go to court and sign shit in person, so I’ll be back here again in 30 to 45 business days to finish the permits for the aforementioned construction, praying my car makes the drive, and then I’ll be free.”

Eddie nodded patiently, eyebrows raised, giving you the grace to vent to him as he finished his coffee. “It’s not even my life and you make me want a cigarette.”

You laughed, hard, and fuck, did it feel good to laugh again. To reap the reward of his shy smile. His leg resting against yours. His fingers cupped around his mug in the center of the table, where yours were too, doing the same thing. Tapping your mug for the sole purpose of discovering the delicate nature of his knuckles being softer than yours with each beat.

He sat forward, sliding your knee along his inner thigh. “You sure you don’t want your tips back to help pay for all this?”

Quick to respond, you inquired, “Would you like to stuff them in my G-string, or would you rather I lay down and you can rain them on me?”

It was his turn to laugh. Bright like his naturally higher voice, which you adored, and a bit cackling too, as if he were a villain. A full laugh coming from the heart. A dangerous thing, you realized when you looked at each other a bit too long.

Once eye contact had been established, there was no coming back. The affection in your gaze roaming his face. The tenderness in his smile, just like old times. But a reserved version. On guard. Already fading at the rhythm of your pounding hearts.

“I feel like I’ve been going on, and on, and on,” you said. “Tell me what’s been up with you–?” Your watch beeped. 11:00 blinked at you. Swiveling around, you examined the lively restaurant brought to life by the lunch rush. “Have we really been here that long?”

Eddie shrugged. “Got somewhere to be?”

“My first appointment of the day. I’ve gotta be downtown in, like, ten minutes.”

Too soon.

Hope ignited the instant neither of you made to leave. The backs of your fingers touching his, metal to flesh as you learned the sensation of his ring’s edges against your skin.

He said, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

You said, “Okay.”

Neither of you moved.

“Wouldn’t want you to be late.”

“No, that would be terrible.”

He puckered his lips to rid himself of his uneven grin, fixing his gaze on your touching hands. You did the same. Existing in the strange dynamic you found yourselves in. A state of unforgiveness, but willing to blot each other’s wounds for the sake of healing and moving on.

Your watch beeped again. “Okay, I really have to go now.”

After paying, you took one step out the door and did a double-take, bewildered beyond belief. “You still drive that thing?”

Eddie joined your side, following what you were pointing at. “Yeah, it’s the same van.”

“I would’ve thought you had crashed it by now.”

He clicked his tongue, offended, “I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly safe driver.”

“You literally drove it into a ditch the day you got it,” you reminded him. He flapped his hand like a mouth to mock you. You shoved his arm. “I meant to ask, how did you know where to find me?”

Coming round to your vehicles, he lingered at your trunk while you unlocked your door. “Gut instinct.” You raised your brows, asking him to elaborate, and he spun his keys around his finger, dragging his feet on the walk to his van parked next to you. “I just knew.”

“All right then, keep your secrets,” you conceded. “Oh yeah!” He paused, hand on the headrest, about to climb in. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Turning to regard you as if you’d said the bizarrest thing, Eddie’s hair flowed over his shoulders in the wind, a precious pinch of confusion between his brows, and a handsome twist to his mouth.

“You mentioned a boyfriend I could go home to last night, but, alas, I must regretfully inform you I do not have one.” When he remained speechless, you broke. Doubled over with laughter, holding your sides. Giddier than you had any right to be.

Eddie shook his head at you. Then, he thought about it. “You said you’ll be back in 30 to 45 business days?”

“Unfortunately!”

“Okay,” he said, “Okay.”

He was quick to get in his van and shut the door behind him, as were you to start your car and get to your appointment on time, but.. It wasn’t until your third alarm beeped that you realized you had been sitting there, tracing your thumb over your grin, forgetting to drive away.

And it wasn’t until you glanced in your rearview mirror, you saw Eddie was doing the same thing, remembering he wasn’t dreaming.

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 

[thebhorror]

And now you’re the living dead

Everyone knows that the best cure for post Halloween party hangovers are monster movie marathons and takeout in bed. At least, until you feel normal enough to rejoin the land of the living. College Paranormal Club AU.

Rated: General Audiences

2,130 Words

Read it on AO3

@solangeloweek  Monstrous March Day 1: Movie Monsters

“When there's no more room in hell, the dead will walk the earth.”

The late Sunday morning sunlight leaked through the windows of Nico’s dorm room, giving Nico the uncontrollable urge to die. Laying in bed, with his boyfriend's arms wrapped around him while Will lightly snored, wasn’t enough to fight off the raging headache and nausea swirling in his stomach. “One day, we’ll remember to close the blinds before bed,” Nico announced to the sleeping Will, eyeing his boyfriend jealously, wishing he himself was still asleep. Nico shut his eyes again, trying to work through the mental fog associated with a violent hangover, and attempted to piece together the previous night.

Even if you gave Nico all the money in the world, there was no way he would be able to recall in full what had happened at the Camp Paranormal Halloween party he had attended the night before. Their college’s paranormal club always hosted Halloween parties and they were, as Percy lovingly put it when he announced the date of that year’s party, absolute ragers. They always ended in a bunch of blacked out young adults and at least one person yakking off the stoop, into the alleyway next to the apartment that the Camp Paranormal club presidents always occupied (this time it was the new transfer in, Leo, the poor guy). There was a lot of alcohol, a ton of weed, seas of people, and endless conversations about horror movies and ghost hunting. It was a blast.

The party also happened to be the anniversary of Nico and Will’s first kiss, meaning the whole night was a blur of them finding a dark corner to make out in for small bits of time, with all of their invasive friends coming up to them and gushing about what a great couple they were. It was sweet. There was nothing like all of your closest friends, drunk out of their minds, waxing poetic about how you and your boyfriend are the perfect couple, but it got old quickly. By the third time Piper had come up to them to gush about how she was so happy she transferred schools and joined Camp Paranormal and had become friends with them all, Nico had lost his patience. Still, the night was fun and they even won best costume as Stu and Billy from Scream, so it was, all in all, perfect. But, the best nights always had consequences.

Eventually, Will opened his eyes, looking at Nico, his hair tangled. He had red lines across his face from sleeping with his cheek pressed into his pillow. Nico thought he looked pretty, gorgeous even, in the morning sun, even with the dark circles under his eyes and messy bedhead. “You’re really sweaty,” Nico observed, resisting the urge to be overly mushy seconds after Will woke up. Nico kissed Will on the forehead to make up for it, despite the fact Nico felt like he was going to pass out at any second. Will gave him a look, his eyes narrowed like he was about to say something, before Will shot out of bed and ran to the bathroom. Nico gave Will a few minutes, ignoring how badly he was craving the water that sat on his bedside table. He couldn’t reach it unless he moved a few inches over to the right, and Nico wasn’t willing to move more than he had to.

After some time, which included a few minutes of what sounded like teeth brushing, Will returned, looking pale, but significantly less nauseous than he had when he woke up. Nico was envious. He still felt like he was a zombie, half living, half dead.

“Thalia giving us those edibles was the end of it all,” Will commented, grabbing a new t shirt to slip on, one that was not disgusting and sweaty from sleep. “If we weren’t gone from playing Kings for two hours, being crossed helped nothing.” Will grabbed a water bottle for himself, while Nico pointed helplessly at his water bottle, trying to make himself look as pathetic as possible. Will rolled his eyes in response. “Just sit up and grab it, you baby,” Will said, but gave Nico his water nonetheless.

“Being crossed hurts, especially when we followed it up with shots. But no one was as bad as Leo. He kept asking me to summon ghosts to add to the atmosphere. Or Annabeth. I have never seen her that drunk,” Nico commented, before he let out a croaky laugh, which made his head hurt even more. “The way she was convinced that someone stole her and Percy’s vacuum after everyone had left.” Nico and Will stayed after the party to half ass help Percy and Annabeth clean up. Their "help" mostly consisted of finishing people’s drinks and giggling intermittently while Percy and Annabeth shambled around, bickering and stumbling as they tried to pick up empty bags of chips, discarded costume props, and crushed beer cans.

“I love our friends," Will commented, climbing back into bed. "I need to be laying down. Do you think we are going to spend every post anniversary day like this?” Will asked. “Hungover as shit, fighting off nausea, ordering shitty food for delivery?”

“Probably,” Nico said, pulling out his phone and opening Uber eats, squinting at the bright light his phone was emitting. “It’s not the worst way to spend our day. Besides, our real anniversary was yesterday, and the anniversary of our first date isn’t until next weekend, so we can do this on our post first kiss anniversary. Now, do we want bagels or like a real breakfast?”

“I am about to become murderous if I don’t get hash browns within the next hour,” Will commented, laying down and stretching. “I will commit so many crimes.” Nico nodded before placing their order from the Denny’s that was a few blocks away. Once he was done, Nico went to kiss Will, who put his hand out and stopped Nico from getting any closer. “Teeth first. I know for a fact you didn’t brush last night before bed. I have five memories from last night and that is one of them.”

“Is this any way to treat your boyfriend of a year and a day?” Nico complained, but got up nonetheless to go to the bathroom.

“Romance dies after the first year of dating. Anyone will tell you that,” Will called out. Nico gave him the finger in response. Still, Nico did as instructed, albeit begrudgingly, but he would do most things if it meant that Will would kiss him. He was properly rewarded with a long kiss from Will.

The two decided on a Dawn of the Dead rewatch (the Dario Argento cut, thank you very much, they weren’t animals) while they laid around, complaining about their hangovers and intermittently showing each other bits of evidence from the previous night from posts on various social media platforms. By the time their food came, they had pieced together a vague timeline of the night, just in time for them to start eating while the gore in the movie really picked up.

“Love being desensitized to blood. Oh look at that,” Nico said, pointing out a zombie getting stabbed in the ear while he shoved pancakes into his mouth. "The special effects in this movie really were ahead of their time."

“Absolutely foul,” Will commented, holding out his fork for Nico to take a taste of his omelet. The movie passed by, the two of them getting quieter and quieter as the movie went on, slowly inching towards each other to cuddle. They let the credits roll in full, sitting in silence, both too exhausted to really get up.

Will finally broke the silence. “Are we being people today?” Nico gave Will a look that clearly said are you kidding me? and Will laughed. “Alright, my turn to pick then if we are staying here for the next ten hours. Monster movie day. It’s time to watch The Thing.”

The best cure to hangovers, Nico and Will had come to learn, was ordering take out and watching horror movies. Nothing like some good old fashioned blood and guts to shock your system and make you feel alive once more. They had done it enough times to be firm believers of this method. After the Thing came Hellraiser, with some intermittent napping and showering. Nico was just starting to feel like his normal self, headache almost totally gone, when finally they came to The Lost Boys, a movie that Will had never seen, much to Nico’s dismay and shock.

“How have we been dating for a year and a day and you still have never seen it? Terrible, truly. Gay beach vampires. What is there not to love?” Nico asked, finding it easily on Shudder.

“I was saving it to watch with you because I know you love it,” Will said, in that sappy as hell way he did that made Nico’s heart twist a little. Even after being in love with Will for as long as he was, Nico was never used to it when Will showed him he loved him. It was the simplest gesture, but it still made Nico feel special. Nico pressed play, and then pressed a kiss to Will’s slightly damp hair, before leaning into Will's side and throwing an arm around him.

“This movie is gay as hell dude,” Will observed halfway through the movie. “You were right when you talked about it at the one club meeting last year and Luke seemed skeptical. That guy really has some off opinions. It’s totally gay.”

“Fucking, thank you. Monsters and horror movies are gay coded,” Nico said, feeling himself gearing up for a rant. “It’s all about seeing yourself as the ‘other,’ as the villain, as the one who doesn’t deserve a happy ending. Horror is queer and all that. Straight men shouldn’t be allowed horror opinions,” Nico said with a huff.

“So true. For the girls and gays,” Will replied. “I love when you get on your proverbial soapbox about things. You're so endearing. Like yeah dude, keep talking about themes in horror movies. Give us more!”

Nico felt himself go a little red. "You're annoying," Nico responded, before giving Will a half smile, which made Will poke his cheek in return.

They popped in another movie (Dracula) to halfwatch while they bickered about what takeout to order (“The dining hall is too far,” Will whined, while Nico agreed and added, “No way am I putting on shoes today"). Once that one had ended too, it was getting to 9pm and the quickly approaching school day was looming over them.

“Thank God I stayed up late all week to do my homework,” Will said, squeezing Nico tightly while the credits to the movie played. “Imagine trying to do work today. I think I would rather be set on fire.”

“It would be torture,” Nico admitted. “Annotating Nathaniel Hawthorne short stories with a raging hangover? No thanks. I would rather perish.” The two sat in a comfortable silence. Will ran a hand through Nico’s hair, his fingers catching on the small knots that always came with Nico letting his wavy hair air dry while he laid in bed. If Nico could get his way, he would never go to class again and instead just spend forever in the position they were in now.

“I can’t believe it’s been a year, by the way,” Will commented and Nico nodded. Will laced one of his hands into Nico's. “It passes way too quickly. I wish it didn’t.” Nico squeezed Will’s hand in response, understanding the feeling. It was hard to believe they had been together for a whole year. A whole year of kissing and bickering, of dates to the dining hall and Chinese takeout in bed, of ghost hunting and drinking with friends. Nico never expected to love college as much as he did. He remembered being scared and apprehensive about the whole thing, but this was one of the happiest parts of his life so far. He didn't want to wish it all away, didn't want to wish away being young and in love.

“It is going by pretty quickly,” Nico commented, pushing away the thoughts of it all ending from his mind. “But that’s okay. I am anticipating, at the very least, fifty more years of post Halloween party hangovers, so we have tons of time.” Will snorted and flicked Nico’s forehead, before pulling him in closer. Nico laughed in response, hangover totally gone, feeling so in love that he felt like he would reach into his chest and give Will his heart if he asked for it. “Happy one year and one day anniversary,” Nico said, kissing Will.

[outerbankspreferences]

Boat Day

2197

JJ MAYBANKS x READER (PRE RELATIONSHIP)

WORD COUNT: 2197

WARNINGS: underage drinking, drugs, language.

A/N: Y/N stands for Your Name and Y/L/N stands for Your Last Name. This is my first story, so send me some request!

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Summers in the Outer Banks are the best. The days are long, the water’s warm and the fun never ends. The best thing about living here are my friends. We call ourselves the Pouges. A handed down name on this island for as long as I can remember. The Pouges are the poor kids. Work for a living to help your parents, cause trouble to have great memories to look back on when you’re older, but most importantly, a family. A lot of us don’t really have one of those. Our parents are to busy working for the Kooks to have time to spend with us.

It was another typical morning on the banks. I was getting ready to go out on the boat with my friends. It was a rare day that we all had no work and nothing to do. I was packing my cooler full of food and drinks because it was my turn to feed everyone. I was wearing my favorite t-shirt dress and I had my hair in a low ponytail and sunglasses on, my go to when it was this hot out.  I was walking onto the back porch the led to our dock right as the boat was pulling up.

“Top of the morning to ya’ sailors.” I greeted my friends. John B was at the wheel slowing down so I can hop on, Kiara was taking the cooler out of my hand and Pope was still reading. I turned to the back of the boat and saw JJ laying there, hat over his head. “What’s his problem?” I ask motioning to JJ. “He drank a little too much last night, and is now nursing a hangover.” John B explains. “Isn’t he always hungover? Here JJ I have something that will fix you, it’s my moms favorite cure.-“Oh yeah, what is it? Advil? ‘Cause I already popped like three of those before you got here.” JJ responded not moving the hat. I pulled another drink out of my cooler. “No silly, it’s to keep drinking. Can’t get a hangover if your always drunk.” JJ moved his hat slightly, looking up at me squinting, sits up takes the drink and smiles. “can’t argue with that logic.” He responds.

I finish passing the rest of the drinks out as John B steered towards the marsh with sun on our backs warming up to be a good day. As we get to our usual spot, Pope throws the anchor down and looks at me “What kinda’ sandwiches did you pack Y/N?” as he rummaged to the bottom knowing I kept them there so they would stay cold. “I packed PB&J for me and you, cucumber for our dear vegetarian Kie, and ham and cheese for these dorks.” He smiled, I always pack everyone’s favourite snacks. “That’s why we keep you around” Pope responds. I gasp, “what?” I ask dramatically. “and here I thought it was my charming personality and good looks.” Everyone starts to laugh, “Sorry sweetheart, but I already took that roll” JJ says to me with a pat on my back. I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Yeah whatever helps you sleep at night J” Kie says laughing with me. “wouldn’t you like to know” he says with wink. My heart flutters. That wink kills me every time.

I’ve had a thing for JJ since we started hanging out together. My family moved here in the eighth grade and I became friends with Kiara. We met volley ball tryouts, quickly becoming friends as if we’d know each other our whole lives. She introduced me to the Pouges, and the rest was history. When Kie started her Kook year, Pope helped me find my way around the school, and lucky for me, JJ always not to far behind.

After we’ve all had something to eat and smoked a couple of blunts it was time to go swimming. Everybody starts taking there clothes off, and jumps in. As I’m taking my dress off I can feel JJ’s eye on me. That’s when I remember I’m wearing a new bathing suit. It’s a simple pink bikini but it shows a bit more of my cleavage then normal. “That’s so cute Y/N! Where did you get it?” Kie asks while my head is stuck in my dress. “At that boutique-for fuck sakes-you know the new one-“Here let me help” I feel a pair of hands grip the dress and a small laugh, and I know the second I hear it , that JJ is coming to my rescue. My breath hitches when his hands brush against my back side. The heat of his hands linger for a minute, “You’re a dysfunctional mess Y/L/N, probably lose your head if it wasn’t attached.” JJ spoke, everyone laughing along with him. “Real comedian you are Jim Carry, I’ll have to come to one of your shows-anyways as I was saying, I’m borrowing it from the boutique that just opened on Main Street.” I tell Kie, “Do they know you’re borrowing it?”. She knew me too well. It was small habit of mind to shoplift clothes. We couldn’t really afford new ones, and I hated asking my parents for one. “No they don’t know I’m borrowing, but I’ll fix the tag when I’m done with it and return it. No one will the wiser” She scuffs at my answer. I take that opportunity to jump in the water with them.

After swimming and another round of snacking and smoking the sun is starting to set, and we are turning the boat around to head home. “Hey Y/N, do you work tomorrow?” JJ asks me. We work at the country club together. I work in housekeeping, and he works in the kitchen doing a little bit of everything. “Yeah I do, 8 to 4 cleaning the discharges. What about you?” I ask him knowing where this is going. I always pick JJ up on my way if we’re working the same shifts. Someone was to make sure he makes it there. “I go for 9 and work a 12 hour shift, think I can bunk at your place? Is your mom working night shift?” My mom is a nurse at the E.R. and when she’s not home I let him spend the night with me. My dad is away on a fishing trip so no one would know he’s there. “Yeah she’s leaving for work at 7 if you want to sleep on the couch. Just don’t smoke in the house this time. My dad could smell the weed when he got home” “sure thing”.

John B stops at Kie’s first, she’s the only one with a curfew for being out late one to many times. “Alright losers, thanks for the day, I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow. John B are you still coming by the wreck in the morning?” Kie asks him and I look at Pope, I can see him roll his eyes under his sunglasses. I was under strict orders from him not to say anything about his crush in her. “Of course, do you think you’re dad will still want me picking up shifts there, it’ll get DCS off my case for a little while.”. Kiara’s dad offered to help John B out after Big John went missing a couple of months ago. DCS was been on his case about his uncle and the bills. “He said he needed the help with the summer season starting, Charlie Hanson quit last week for his band so we’re short a dish washer” Pope finally looks up from the book he’s reading, “I’ll sleep at your place tonight and help you write resume out for him.” John B smiled at Pope. “Thanks man, I really need your wisdom” Everyone laughs. Kie gets off the boat and waves goodbye to everyone. “Next stop the Y/L/N home” JJ says, “I’m so tired I could fall asleep right here” He motions to the front of the boat. Dramatically laying across the hard plastic. It’s grown colder now that the sun has set and with that wind picks up. I’m only in my dress from earlier, cursing myself for not bringing a sweater. “Christ John can this bucket of bolts go any faster, I’m freezing my ass off” I ask with a hint of sarcasm. Moments later I watch JJ sigh deeply and throw a towel over in my direction. “You’re lucky I was too hungover to go swimming, that should keep you warm. We’re almost there.” After a short distance and many laughs we’re finally pulling up to the dock. I look up to my house, and see that my mom left the light outside on, she knew me to well. I hated walking up the yard in the dark. JJ grabs the cooler and waves goodbye to Pope and John B as they sail away.

I wave goodbye to them and turn around to see that JJ is already half way up the yard. “JJ wait up, I only have little legs!” It was our inside joke, we both love watching full house, and he was quite taller then me so I could never keep up. He was quiet the short walk up to the house holding the door open for me. As we walk into my kitchen, I lock the door, and turn the outside light off. “Do you want the first shower J?” I ask him walking to the closet to pull out the extra blankets for him to sleep with. I could hear him opening the fridge. “No, you take the first shower and use the hot water. I don’t want to listen to you complain about me using all the hot water again.” I couldn’t argue with that. My house had shit warm water. Normally enough for a quick shower, and then taking forever to reheat. After putting the blankets on the couch, I look at JJ coming out of the kitchen with just his swim trunks on. “I’m taking a cold shower anyways, it’s hot in here.” He comments taking another drink of his water. I smile and nod to him, walking to my room to get some clothes. I grab the towel from the closest hallway and a pair of pajama’s walking into the bathroom. I start the water and hop in washing my hair and body. Once I’m done I get out of shower throw my hair in a bun and get changed. I walk into the living and JJ is siting there rolling a joint and watching tv. “Did your mom upgrade from cable because I don’t remember you having this channel” he asked not looking up from his joint. Eyebrows knitted together in concentration. “Yeah she complained about the bill being to high, and they gave some extra channels for being loyal customers or something like that” I look at what he’s watching. National Geographic. “JJ since when have you liked national geographic? What are you even watching? Is that Naked and Afraid?” You hit the guide to confirm that he’s actually watching it. “Yeah, I thought it was actually going to show them naked, not blur all the good stuff. Too PG if your asking me. What’s the point of calling the show Naked and afraid if you don’t actually see them naked?” He did make a good point, honestly I never watch any the television, always opting for Netflix. “I don’t know why the call it that. But you should go shower, its getting late and we both have to work early. Do you want me to wake you up when I get up?” I ask walking into the kitchen to get myself a drink. “No you wake up at the ass crack of dawn, just wake me up before you go I’ll sleep in the car until its time for work” JJ calls as I hear him shut the door to the bathroom. Once I hear the water running, I sigh and start making the couch up for him. I grab some of the pillows from my room, and take his rolled joint and put it in baggie with his other. I put his book bag by the couch and a clean pair of shorts he left from last time.

As I’m getting into bed, I can hear the shower turn off, and shortly after the door open. As I’m lying in bed thinking about the day staring at the ceiling, I can hear JJ rummaging around the living room. My heartbeat quickens thinking that he’s in the other room. I wish I could get the courage to tell him how I feel, but the rules say other wise. When Pope told me about his crush, that’s what he said to me. “remember those stupid no pouge on pouge macking rules.” A small mantra as to not ruin our friendship together. As I’m slowing drifting off to sleep I can hear JJ call from the other room, “goodnight Y/N” and I fall asleep with a smile on my face and pain in my heart knowing the man I love is another room and not with me.

[nonbinarypussy]

My Hangover cure :

Down a thing of water. Drink a bunch of water, hydrate.

Make yourself some lemon ginger tea, or regular ginger tea , no honey , no sugar

Smoke some weed while u drink the tea

Hydrate some more

Eat lots of fruit & toast with butter

I usually just eat fruit , chips, crackers , bread , eggs all day until I feel well enough to eat something a little fattier

Listen to a Caribbean when they tell u to just drink ginger tea and smoke a joint I swear I think ginger tea cures everything and my non Caribbean friends always think I’m crazy but don’t nobody wanna listen

[outerbankswriting]

Innocent (JJ x Reader)

Description: The reader and JJ get high together and the sexual tension is too much... (again.. I suck at the descriptions just read the request instead)

Request: can you maybe make a concept where the reader and jj are high from smoking. sexual tension clearly being settled and the reader is like an innocent girl and jj wants to take that away from her. so jj starts to tease and kiss her neck and the reader starts to moan and get wet

warnings: drugs

INNOCENT

You were never like this, but you didn’t regret it a bit.

When you gave in to Kiara’s endless petitions for you to meet her Pogue friends, you were clearly not expecting to meet the one guy who would change your life completely.

JJ Maybank.

Ever since you and JJ became close friends, you’d forgotten about your comfort zone.

You were constantly joining him and the rest for their crazy Pogue adventures, going to parties outside of Figure Eight, getting wasted as hell and not sleeping at home for a whole week (of course you had to lie to your parents about it and say you were staying with Kie when in reality you stayed at John B’s place with the rest).

After all, you were a Kook and the Pogue lifestyle was all new to you, but JJ never failed to make you feel as if you’ve been a Pogue your entire life.

“Drink this.” A red-eyed JJ insisted as he handed you a red cup.

“What is this?” You furrowed your brows at the sight of the drink.

“Just trust me,”

“Are you sure it’s not poison?” You joked.

“You’re gonna have to find for yourself babe.” He winked at you.

You smelled the liquid inside the cup and gagged. The strong smell of a mixture of alcohol making your eyes water.

“JJ what the hell? What’s in this?”

“Don’t be so innocent,” he laughed at your gagging, “have a little fun with me.”

That had been the first time you’d experienced what having a blackout felt like. 

Of course JJ was there to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach and he was also outside Kie’s place first thing in the morning with your favourite chocolate and some aspirin to “cure your hangover”, ignoring the scoldings of Kiara for making you get so drunk at last night’s party.

Something about your lack of experience in life made JJ so drawn towards you. He made it his duty to help you “live your best life” and he stood by his word.

JJ never pressured you to do anything you didn’t want to do though, in fact you were the one constantly wanting to hang out with him to forget your boring Kook life. You were tired of having to be the proper girl, always having to look your best and not mess up and JJ was your escape from all of that.

You would also be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t find him attractive. It started as a tiny crush when you laid eyes on him for the first time which later developed into something more than a crush. Your feelings for him grew the more you kept hanging out with him. There was just something about his carefree attitude that infatuated you.

Your friendship with JJ was unusual though, the two of you cared about each other a lot but there was constant flirting involved and you liked the feeling of it.

You liked having your heart speed up whenever you looked at each other that way.

You liked your insides fluttering whenever the two of you accidentally touched.

You liked feeling his toned arms around you whenever the two of you got too drunk and decided to dance.

And he knew you liked it.

You were hanging with the Pogues at John B’s place after a long and tiring day at the beach. You were feeling confident with yourself with your tanned and exfoliated skin from the sand, wearing your favourite orange bikini and your hair loose and surprisingly soft after some hair mask Kie made you wear.

John B was playing some music while Pope and JJ were mixing alcohol and sodas making some weird alcoholic mixture.

“Don’t you dare drink more than 3 cups of your weird mix tonight.” Kie warned Pope who was already gulping down his first drink.

“Relax Kie,” JJ said as he poured you a drink, “and it’s not a weird mix, it’s our elixir of life.”

“Damn right,” John B added and grabbed some of the way too red mix.

“I think your elixir of life will actually make you face death instead.” You said as you remembered that one night you had too much of that mix and spent the whole night at the bathroom.

“Your body just needs to get used to it, that’s all.” JJ winked at you and sat next to you on the sofa.

“I’m not planning on having a blackout tonight, thank you.” You smiled innocently at JJ as you denied the drink he was handing to you.

“So you’re not drinking tonight?” He raised his eyebrow at you before dramatically pouting.

“I’m not really feeling it.” You pouted back.

“Hmm,” he jokingly scratched his chin, “how about some weed?”

“Only if you join me.” You grinned at him, his eyes instantly lighting up.

“I could never turn down such an offer.” He smirked and turned his head towards John B’s backyard.

The two of you went outside and walked a little further from John B’s place so you could be out of sight from the rest. Once you found the perfect spot where no one would bother you, you both sat down on the grass, JJ rapidly taking out the joints and lighting them up while you laid down completely to stare at the stars.

“Hey, hey,” JJ exclaimed, “the only stars you need in your life are right here.”

He handed you a joint and you took a long drag, feeling the hot sensation inside your body.

After the two of you went over your first round, you watched carefully as JJ placed another joint in his mouth to light it up, admiring how hot he looked with the weak flame enhancing his strong jawline and blue eyes.

“So,” he exhaled, his hand slightly touching yours but your heightened sensations making your body shake on his touch, “tell me something.”

“What do you want to know?” You replied as you took another drag.

“What are you into?” He lazily grinned.

“As in,” you paused before grinning back at him, “do I like choking?”

JJ choked on his joint for a few seconds before bursting out laughing, making you follow his actions and laugh with him.

“I was not expecting that,” he said and raised an eyebrow at you, “but do you?”

You felt your insides begin to tingle and a wave of excitement and confidence taking over your body.

“I don’t know,” you intentionally bit your bottom lip, “maybe I do.”

JJ’s eyes widened for a moment before his lips slowly curved into a smile.

“Wouldn’t expect that from a girl like you.”

“A girl like me? What’s that supposed to mean?” You moved a little closer to him.

“You know,” he bit his lip now, “all innocent and shit.”

“I’m not that innocent, you know?” You whispered, smirking at him.

“Hard to believe.” His voice was low and raspy and your hormones were very aware of that.

You raised your eyebrows at him and your outburst of confidence (thanks to the cannabis), made you place your leg over his as you pretended to be unbothered by the tension building up.

JJ’s body shifted closer to yours as he noticed how dangerously close your leg was to his friend down there and you couldn’t help but bite the inside of your cheeks to stop the grin that was trying to escape from your lips.

“Good thing I have nothing to prove to you.” You let the grin out and slightly pressed your leg against his growing bulge.

“I beg to differ,” he whispered as he moved even closer to you, your body practically sitting on his lap.

“Mhm I see,”

You intentionally moved your hair behind your shoulders, exposing your neck and collarbones to him.

“Such a pretty neck,” he softly traced his finger down your neck to your collarbones, sending shivers down your spine, “does it really like to be choked?”

Your heart began to beat faster at his words.

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.” You smirked without leaving his eyes.

You watched as he licked his lips and took a last drag of his joint before putting it out.

“I was planning to.”

You took a deep breath as his soft hair brushed against your skin and the warmth of his mouth covered your neck, leaving wet kisses all over it.

You turned your body towards him to give him more exposure to your neck, wrapping your legs around his hips and pushing your body towards his, feeling his bulge press against you.

He moved his lips from the side of your neck to your collarbones, you felt him gently suck your skin and you immediately knew it was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t mind so you pressed his head closer to your neck.

JJ noticed your desperate moves and moved his lips to your jawline, leaving small and wet kisses all over its outline making a moan come out of your mouth which immediately made his arms grab your hips.

“You like it,” he whispered against your neck and you couldn’t help but grab his face and stare deep into his eyes.

JJ didn’t take long to realise what you wanted and wasted no time to press his lips against yours, slowly but passionately kissing you before your tongues fought for dominance intensifying the kiss.

You moaned against his lips and his hand moved from your hip to the bottom of your bikini, softly tracing over the hem of it, making you breathe harder.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” he whispered against your lips, leaving you breathless and only being able to nod at his command.

It surely was going to be a long night.

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A/N: I LOVED WRITING THIS... sorry for leaving you like this ok I’m not sure if you guys want me to write smut and if you do lemme know so there can be maybe a second part??? 

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Summer Nights (2)

A/N: Is that... is that...? The unbridled enthusiasm I’m hearing? Or are you trying to reach me with torches and pitchforks for being so untrustworthy? Assuming the first option.

Anyway -- Yes, as I promised, this is the second part of the Summer Nights which you would hopefully enjoy. Waiting for your feedback. It’s the INDEX if you need a refresher.

ALSO, I give a lot of credit to @drawlfoy and @bored-and-botheredwho helped me with editing this chapter and steamed off my emotional breakdown related to my writing (lmao). I love you so much gals and a big THANK U once more!!!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: coarse language; alcohol; Narcissa turning into a shitty-mother (lol)

Tags: @war-sword @paradigmax @winnsmills @idkatee@bforbroadway @okaydraco

The next thing Draco knew, he was being woken up with a massive hangover in the snuggly, way-too-comfortable bed by the high-pitched squeal of his mother.

"You, darling, made a lot of trouble for yourself yesterday," Narcissa admonished her son, a glacial cool look on her face. Entering Draco's hotel apartment, she walked over to the window and opened the drapes with one swift movement, splashing an annoyed Draco with light. He groaned, not yet daring to complain due to his mother's livid mood, to say the least.

"You have no idea of what happened yesterday, do you?"

"Yyy-" was the only sound he could make. God, where to the fuck was he? He hadn't been this plastered in forever.

"Of course you don't." Narcissa shook her head and laughed nervously, although she made it plainly obvious there was nothing humorous about the situation. "You blacked out so hard in that sleazy bar there is no way you can recall anything from yesterday. Look at you -- you are squinting at me like I'm the sun!"

Draco nervously ran his finders through his disheveled hair. He was definitely not in the right mind to provoke the conflict. "I left you the note at the reception," he informed her, trying to slickly get out of the unenviable conversation. "Told the receptionist to hand it over."

Contrary to his mother's accusatory ascertainment, he actually had some glimpses of the previous night (or should he say an all-night rave?). There were for sure drinks -- a lot of drinks; a variety of kinds he didn't recognize from the magical world but still guzzled delightfully. The second recollection was dancing --which wasn't his intention, but with some luck of his -- got invited by some hot-looking chicks from across the table. And yes, he definitely remembers the swaying and the rhythmical moving of the hips along with some cheesy muggle vibes mixed with the smell of booze and weed. Maybe he even hooked up with one of the girls? The last thing he recollects before passing out, almost like through a haze, was seeing Narcissa's furious face screaming something incoherent at him. Overall, that's his all night wrapped in one.

"Do you think the mere note 'I will be fine' was going to calm down my shattered nerves? Draco Lucius Malfoy, I swear to our dear ancestors, I did not raise you to act so irresponsibly." She waved the finger at him warningly. “We come from rich history. You are the descendant from a line of successful forefathers who put their effort into building up our reputation. Do you think Lucius would approve of such unrestrained behavior? I’ve been already hearing of letting you be too careless. Is tha-"

"Mother, could we skip the lecture?" Draco snapped angrily, try as he might to suppress it. "I've heard it too many times. All I’m trying to have is a peaceful life. Without the prying eyes of the media and the meddling of my family..."

"And all I’m trying to have is an integrated, happy family to offer you support and love.” Draco opened his mouth to cut her in, but she shushed him with a wave, clearly suggesting 'Don’t even get me started’ meaning. “I’ve been- been trying  to get a job, going through the infelicitous job interviews and looking for a solution to help our household through the post-war crisis. Have you shown any interest in that? Any?"

"But mo-"

"The last thing I want to have on my mind is dealing with your ignorant, boyish transitional stages, and let me tell you -- you do not make it any easier for me," she said without taking a breath. She exhaled slowly and continued, this time forcing a softer tone. "I ask you one thing for this summer. Let it be an enjoyable time without unnecessary conflicts. We have come to the beautiful country as France. Let's make a good thing out of it."

Draco, who was already wide awake by the buzz of adrenaline, looked at her with a serious expression. Scanning her face made him suddenly realize how hard must it have been for her to bear everything, and seeing the bags of tiredness under her beautiful, hazel eyes stopped him from retorting. "Mother, no matter what happens, I'll always support you. Remember that."

Narcissa smiled. “Oh. I know, honey, I know.” This time she lowered her voice by two octaves, slowly sitting at the edge of the bed. “It’s just… people have been gossiping behind our backs lately, partly throwing the blame at us. All I’m trying to do is protect us from those tormentors. But your binge drinking is not making the deadlock any better, and it drives me mad.” She chortled a little bit and patted Draco’s palm. “So, until the rumors die down, all we can do is raise our chins high.” Narcissa ended, her voice encouraging yet plaintive.

The last thing Draco liked is seeing his mother on the verge of emotional exhaustion, like in this moment. He felt an instant surge of sympathy, so he quickly found himself locking Narcissa in the supportive embrace. She responded to the gesture by wrapping her arms around her son’s neck and stroking his cheek delicately with the back of her hand, just like in the old times. Both of them yearningly wished to come back to those years of frivolity.

"I promise I'll try to be better," Draco said with certainty. Seeing Narcissa’s eyes light up in gratefulness and the smiley dimples form on her features, he assured himself it was the right thing to say at that mother-son moment.

“How could I be so lucky to have such a wise boy,” she muttered proudly, kissing Draco at the top of his head. “But perhaps you should not restrain yourself too much during the holiday. I give you the partial alibi per se. Just keep it under control.”

Smiling, Narcissa got up, straightening up her impeccable posture as in the habit of the high-status woman. For the first time in that day, Draco noticed how elegantly she was dressed up: the black, partly lacy dress stopping at the level of her knees; the shiny-white pearl jewelry perfectly matching her entire outfit; dark yet not defiant high-heels; andhair fixed up in the tight bun. In Draco’s opinion, she looked too prim...even for herself.

"Mother, are you heading somewhere?" he asked curiously.

“Well…” she started, blushing. “I’m going to see my old friend in the coffee shop. I haven’t been there for ages, so it’s one of the chances to meet up with them. Hopefully, you are going to take care of yourself for a few days.” 

"Days?" he asked, shocked.

“You didn’t expect me to travel from town to town, did you?” she laughed lightly. “Bordeaux is quite a route to overcome. So I might be settling there for a few nights. Do you mind it, darling?”

Was he positive about the information? Did he mind? Partly yes. He didn’t imagine the prospect of wandering around the alleys of France on his own, especially on the first day of being there. But from the other side, seeing the joy painted on his mother’s face as she told him about the planned get-together made him feel less skeptical. Plus, getting rid of the extreme supervision for a few days wouldn’t be such a disaster as well.

As he calculated now, the ratio about the idea was 90% pro and 10% against.

"Of course not," he said simply, smiling at his mother.

"I knew you would understand." The crease of uncertainty on her forehead disappeared, and she let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile... I have already booked you the brunch downstairs but seeing as you are not in the wholesome state, I might order a delive-"

"Don't..." Draco opposed, rising from the bed and throwing the nearest shirt he could find over his head. "I'll come down. Some fresh air may be a cure for a hangover. Oh, and speaking of hangovers -- do you happen to have an anti-hangover potion?"

Narcissa let out a quiet chuckle and clapped her hands, seemingly satisfied with herself. Her tranquil gaze landed on the cupboard. "As a matter of self-preservation, yes, I do. Try searching inside the bedside cabinet."

He thanked her and then they talked with each other a little bit longer until Narcissa took the pocket watch out of her handy purse, noted the time ("Merlin's Beard, I am so tardy! I'm going to be alone on the platform if I stay here a minute longer!), and –a little startled with her inadvertency – hurriedly declared she should get going ("I really should get going Draco!”). Pecking her son twice on the cheeks as a farewell, she rushed towards the door and, for the last time, turned around to blow a brief motherly goodbye kiss. She left in such a hurry that the only sign indicating her presence in the room a few seconds ago was her familiar perfume lingering about in the air.

Draco gathered his clothes, and after half an hour of very difficult preparations while dealing with the consequences of yesterday's actions -- because the potion finally hits after two to three hours -- he found himself in front of the hotel's restaurant. As he walked in, he had to admit the room enchanted him with its lovely atmosphere, which brought back the memories of his first Hogwart's magical feast as an eleven-year-old boy.

With the large windows allowing plenty of light in, the entire space was in the classical style. The whole floor was clad with marble tiles in the white-like color; the walls were purely white and, apparently, someone must have put a lot of effort not to let a single dust spot appear in there; the ceiling was created in the concept of the sky resemblance making an impression of the real clouds hovering over heads. Three enormous chandeliers made a very good fit with carved wooden tables and similarly-looking chairs.

"Sir, would you like to make an order?" The decently looking waitress walked over to his table, with a white apron around her waist and green, deep eyes staring at him. "I'm Laura, by the way. I'll be serving you today."

He nodded, not really paying much attention to her primitive attempts of having a chit-chat. Cursorily glancing at the menu, he decided on having a french bagel with melted cheese and a coffee which was a specialty of the house as was written in the recommendations. The waitress scribbled something sloppily in her notes, smiled briefly, and then strode away.

The restaurant was almost fully emptied, and the only things heard in the background were a heated discussion of the couple beside the table and a composition of french, old songs prepared specifically for the guests.

Draco let out a small sigh of boredom, thinking yet again about the scenery of today. The only ideas that crossed his mind were either lounging in his stuffy hotel room or finding another hang-out spot to drown his sorrows.

After the War, he had found out it was pretty easier not to give in to any of the memories, blurring them out with the support of Scotch as a coping mechanism. Pansy and Daphne, his childhood friends, had tried to talk him out of it, kindly offering some tenderness and a chance for a conversation. But he had eventually stopped caring about any of that bullshit anymore.

That's why perhaps he'd just--

"Hi!" said a cheerful voice behind him, making him jump slightly at his seat with surprise. At first, he thought it was a mistake; that he must have been deemed as someone else considering he didn't know anyone around, so was in the opposite way. Turning around, however, made him realize it wasn't entirely the truth. "Do you remember me?"

"Hello." Of course, he remembered her. It was the receptionist from the previous day, whose name he didn't bother to memorize. Although he planned on avoiding potential candidates for a talk today, he said truthfully, "Yes, I do. You work here, right?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, smiling. "Can I join?"

For a moment, his sluggish brain did not process what she was asking about, and that made him frown. The girl probably comprehended what it was about because she explained, reading his confused expression. "...the table".

"Oh," he said, feeling more than embarrassed for his dumb reaction. "Yeah, help yourself."

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling out the chair to make some room for herself. "Tough night, huh?"

The inquiry made him suddenly realize she must have witnessed the whole scene yesterday -- him asking her for a favor, Narcissa drilling her out for any clues about his disappearance, his arrogant attitude, and scurrility as he spoke to her. For sure, if she were smart enough, she would deduce what the situation was about.

He couldn't help it, but a wave of shame pierced through his body, and his stomach rolled slightly.

"A little," he answered minimizing a dimension of the spree, almost like a lie, and then he shook his head. "Listen, sorry about yesterday. I might have been...rude."

A small smile of courtesy formed on her lips. "I presumed you were a little off. Happens..." she said tentatively, gripping both of her hands together. "Oh, and about yesterday -- you lost this at the lobby." She took his wand out, and Draco's stomach made a second roll, the heartbeat hastening like a speed of light. He quickly tried to bring his face to the natural expression, but the girl had noticed that, and curiosity filled her eyes. "I thought I should give that back. In case it was valuable or something."

Fucking great... How was he supposed to elucidate that?

His throat felt so dry he couldn't let out a word of excuse. The moment was so mortifying to him he just reached for the familiar wand and nodded politely in gratefulness.

"Mhm..." Draco hummed, barely audible and momentarily deflated. "It's just... Something I've been training with..."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, dolt?!

"Oh," the girl unconsciously flipped her hair off the shoulders, probably trying to make sense of the information. Furrowing her brows, she put her hand under the chin. "Are you a magician?"

"Kind of..." he agreed, not happy about the reputation he had just created for himself, but at the same time satisfied he didn't have to make up more explanations.

Luckily for Draco, the uncomfortable pause was rescued by the arrival of the food -- thank Merlin -- and even though he hadn't been hungry at all, now he felt an unexpected appetite to eat up the awkwardness. The girl probably caught a hint it was about time to end an encounter because she grunted.

"Listen," the girl started, clearing her throat yet again. "I better get going. But..."

The next thing Draco knew was that she was reaching to her pocket again, this time taking out something similar to a quill, only without ink. He assumed it must some kind of muggle invention, only a mechanical-like version. The girl uncorked it and suggestively drew out her hand, clearly signifying he should bring his hand closer as well. He obediently did.

"France is a big city," she said, glancing at him and sounding serious. "If you ever needed someone to show you around, let me know."

Without any preamble, her soft, delicate fingers grasped his forearm (he made sure to give her the right one), and with a few scrawls on his skin, she looked at him merrily, blushing slightly, and then left a table.

He stared after her for a while, looking at her curls bouncing behind her back as she walked away at a slow, monotonic pace. After a few seconds, she disappeared out of his sight, letting him finally peek at the note she had left:

'Call me, Y/N,' and a nine-digit number attached.

XOXOXO

A/N: I know this part might have contained too little Draco x Reader momento, but I promise it’ll get better as a plot develops. Also -- is it only my impression, or is Narcissa as changeable as the weather in Germany lol.

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without Context

Treasure Island edition, Chapter 2

gnome shakes the sheet of tin, whinnies like a horse "Is he gonna follow us the whole time?" "I'm on retainer."

"Okay, who in their right mind would name an ocean-going vessel 'Poseidon's An Ass'?" "It should be...Neptune Uranus."

OOC: He's along because it's an excuse to study the region, to help Meflina by finishing her obligation (and potentially finding her people) and, oh yeah, fuck flint. OOC2: Neither is Cookie, he's going because he just feels that strange pull of instinct. Like fate, or destiny, or cheese.

MJ: "It’s okay. The real treasure was the times we got baked along the way."

OOC: This entire voyage is just a McDonalds run. OOC2: We get there and the treasure is nothing but countless packets of Szechuan sauce.

"NO PATHETIC BOX CAN HOLD ME!" "Some people can sleep anywhere."

Today you woke up, hung over with a loxodon Butler offering you a hangover cure. “Is there an actual Elephant Man or am I still unbelievably high?” "Well I mean he's not pink, that's a strong case he's real." “He’s not pink?”

"From Jeeve's manners, I am optimistic we haven't been press-ganged... again."

"Thank you, Jeeves...Ugh, this cure had best take effect soon, else I'd think I was in Ra... Is that the forking gnome again?" he asks, sighting a familiar sheet of tin ready to by waved. Janus looks around...."Raven....LOAF." “They don’t like it when you taunt them.”

"I smell Funions.  I have no idea what that is but I recognize the smell."

"It's not the first time I...didn't remember the night before.... " “It’s been a week.”

You get the feeling if she wasn't so sweet an innocent, Melfina'd have enough blackmail material on the lot of you to own your souls.

"They're paying you to do that thing with your room."

"I've told you Maria, but Orange Crush does not prevent scurvy."

"What jobs are for the professor and I, given Amber already knows the secrets of palm tree and coconut technology?"

“At The Institute for Arcane Learning they had a term for this kind of thing. Bullshit.”

"There is one more item: that we are to watch for a man with a wooden leg named Smith.  We don't know if thats the man or the leg, but be on guard for either."

"Oh please tell me we didn't hire on the advice of a little man who lives in a finger..." “Probably the fairy that lives in my hat.  She keeps Dingo Company when I sleep.”  MJ takes off her knit cap and under it is a tiny glowing woman in a gold bikini. “I… uh… I don’t ask her to dress like that.”

"Oh dear, Archie doing hiring.  It's gonna be my brothers bachelor party all over again.  He still has a restraining order."

"Yes, onto who meet the crew, find out whom, after we've slept well, will mostly likely try to kill us in the morning..."

The Doctor tells you a little about the Captain he hired. "Captain Glenn Kermit is a kind but strict captain, has many years of naval command under his belt. Is normally quite polite but has a temper like a raging volcano when angered." The carriage doors open to reveal: A rather diminutive Grung in a perfectly tailored Captain's uniform. Cookie: "...that...is a very small..volcano." "Big things come in small packages." Janus says, standing at attention. Magnus does likewise, and only looks more like some foul wizard whose lair is being knocked over by teenaged adventurers.

"Cookie... I cook."

You are now suddenly very aware of the whip the First Mate has at her side. MJ looks at the whip. “Ah, that’s how we’re running the ship. I’ll make sure to order extra rum and lubricant.”

Boss makes a dollar, MJ makes a dime. That’s why she buys weed to sell on company time.

[Muppet Treasure Island role-call] “It could be worse.” First Mate: "The Bull Buggering Bishop of Bath and Wells?" “Here!” “Okay, it could not be worse.” "[Gnome]'s under contract.  We can't touch him." "Well I mean they are just names.  You can't judge a book by its title as they say." “One of them in named ‘Actual Cannibal Shia LaBouf.’”

Many of the crew duck out of sight in fear. Cookie is still ducked.  While standing.

"No, I've been at sea long enough to keep a close eye on a bosun who hires a crew like that. He is plotting something." "Shoot him first come the mutiny.  Got it."

"Well at the moment it seems the crew are well in hand either terrified of our Chaplin, or quite pleased by our food quality."

Suddenly there's a strange scent on the breeze... its almost like coffee?  You see the large ship is flying a black flag, a pirate crossbones on a coffee mug. The Captain stands on the deck and shouts. "All hands to battle stations! I know that flag!" "You don't mean.... it can't be..." He glares at the ship. "Yes, The Mad Pirate Wilkins!"