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strangerstilinski · 5 months ago

Text

smoke me out

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]

𝗰𝘄: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)

𝗮/𝗻: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear.

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts.

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck.

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy.

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard.

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets.

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently.

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea.

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing.

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you?

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.”

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours.

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you.

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again.

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded.

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own.

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation.

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high.

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you.

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once.

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body.

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls.

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there between your thighs.

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic.

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake.

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that-

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock.

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top.

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly.

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.”

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention.

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you.

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie.

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass.

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight.

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane.

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should.

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him.

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes.

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks.

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care.

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while.

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention.

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches.

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin.

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat.

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own.

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size.

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-”

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear.

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels.

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.”

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing.

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours.

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie! I, fuck-”

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy.

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds.

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making.

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway.

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck.

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-”

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?”

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-”

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin.

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak.

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier.

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.”

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him.

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks.

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him.

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip.

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment.

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.”

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.”

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?”

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.”

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?”

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin.

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them.

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum.

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible.

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks.

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm.

“What, this?” He questions in amusement.

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge.

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you.

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild.

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit.

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again.

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal.

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else.

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

“..Do you still wanna fuck me?”

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged.

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”

He fucking cheers.

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished.

You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.

#eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #*

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ox-imagines · 6 months ago

Text

Nights Like This

Tohma x f reader - coworkers to lovers

wc: 5k

This work contains smut!! I'll put the cutoff before the smut for anyone who wants to read up to that point! !!MINORS DNI!!

This was requested by @mastering-procrastinating as an expansion of my Romance Tropes headcannons. I hope you enjoy!

(ps. the little breaks in it signal that it's a different night they're working)

“I suppose the cup in the microwave is yours?” You heard a voice over your shoulder.

Tohma Ishibashi. You were promoted several months ago and had worked with him since, though never directly. You’d had no reason to deal with him, thus you hadn’t.

“Yeah, it’s mine; sorry,” you stood and brushed past him to get your cup. “I just thought I’d get some coffee, you know, since we might be here a while.” You’d reheated the coffee still in the pot from the workday to get some caffeine in your system in preparation for what you’d expected would be a long night. From what you knew, Tohma tended to be a hard worker, and you weren’t sure what it would be like to work on a project with him.

“Good thinking. You could’ve just made a new pot, though.” Tohma’s disposition was… hard to decipher. He was courteous, and seemed friendly enough though you’d never gotten the impression he cared on a personal level. You could respect a ‘business is business’ mindset, though, so you didn’t question it or push further. He set his dinner in the microwave and leaned back against the counter as he waited for it to heat up. Focused, steely blue eyes, settled behind a monocle of all things, surveyed you as he reached for his laptop, balancing it on one large hand while he opened it and tapped on his keyboard with his other. “We already have the creative team’s content and market research prepared. We need to make infographics from it, get the presentation in order, and rehearse. I intend to be completely done with this come Friday morning.”

“Sir, yes sir,” you murmured, slightly mocking his commanding, driven tone while simultaneously mourning the loss of your next three evenings. He did little more than raise an eyebrow at you and didn’t even look up from his screen, though you could’ve sworn his lips had quirked up slightly. Setting his laptop back on the table, he retrieved his warmed food and sat down next to you.

He opened the project file and slid out several pages, handing you half of them. “Here. Start the infographics for that data.”

You did as he said, though you couldn’t help but feel a little begrudging. After all, you were in equal positions, even if you were newer to yours than he was; what right did he have to tell you what to do? Then again you would’ve done exactly that had he not told you what to do, so what was the use in being irritated with him? Maybe if you were just calm and cooperative, you’d find him more agreeable.

The two of you fell into a silent rhythm as you worked. You were glad you’d figured out Excel pretty quickly when you started your new position; you thought if you’d had to ask him for help making the data displays you’d have rather just passed away. You glanced over at him. His brow was furrowed subtly, his striking eyes focused intently on his laptop as they reflected its glow. The strong lines of his nose and jaw pulled together a shockingly handsome face now that you were really looking at him up close.

“Do you need something?”

“Oh, sorry.” He’d caught you looking at him. You hurriedly returned to your work, your cheeks heating marginally. From the corner of your eye, you caught him smirking.

°°••....••°°

“Did you bring dinner tonight? I’m ordering mine, if you’d like something,” Tohma’s icy eyes peered at you over his phone, glimmering in the fluorescents of the little break room. The previous night, the two of you had decided to be done once all the infographics were complete. Tonight, you were going to share your files and cross-check each others’ work before compiling and organizing it into a single slideshow, giving you two nights to rehearse your presentation.

“Oh! Um, sure, I brought a snack and drink but I haven’t really eaten much today,” you weren’t sure why you’d decided to give him more information than he needed; maybe the thoughtfulness of his including you had caught you off-guard. Without another word, he handed you his phone to look at the menu of the restaurant he was ordering from and make a selection. “Do you have PayPal, or Venmo, or Cashapp, or..?” You trailed.

“No need, it’s my treat,” he nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter as he watched you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Are you finished?”

“Sorry,” you quickly finished picking something and handed his phone back. “And thank you. For dinner, I mean. You really don’t have to.”

His hand lightly brushed yours as he took his phone back. “I don’t mind. You’re a good worker, and clearly, management doesn’t reward for that regularly, so I thought it might be nice for us to have a little something to keep us going.”

“I appreciate it,” you thanked him again, once more a bit taken aback by his friendliness tonight. However, he fell quiet, slipping his phone into his pocket and opening his laptop.

“Have you already sent me your work from last night?”

“I did,” you absentmindedly tapped on the table with one hand while the other dug your computer out of your bag. “I emailed it to you before we left last night.”

“Perfect.”

More silence, aside from the light tapping of keys as he typed. The quiet wasn’t awkward, thankfully, instead feeling more like he was fine to work calmly at your side rather than needing to fill the space with small talk. You clicked over to your email tab, finding the files he’d sent. You were happy to find that they were of about the same quality as yours and therefore yours should be to his liking. Before you knew it, he had his folder out again and was finally sitting down, divvying up the papers like he had the night before and handing you the opposite stack this time.

“Once we’ve checked that each others’ data is all accurate, we can compile it into the empty presentation I just shared with you.” No sooner than he’d gotten settled in his seat, he was up again, checking his phone. “The food arrived; I’ll be right back.” You noticed the smoothness with which he moved as he pocketed his phone and exited, and the graceful lines of his figure in his well-tailored suit.

Why are you thinking about that? You shook your head and leaned back in your chair, hooking your feet on the bar under the table so you could prop the chair back on just the two hind legs. Sure, Tohma Ishibashi was objectively an attractive man, but there was no reason for you to be thinking about it just because he was nice enough to buy your dinner. You didn’t even know him on a personal level in any way; for all you knew, he could be part of a gang, or in a relationship, or just be a terrible person outside of work.

Your eyes blew wide as you felt the chair’s back legs slip. You’d gotten distracted and leaned too far back. With a sickening smack, your head hit the counter behind you as you fell backward, courtesy of your feet still hooked under the table preventing you from falling straight down with the chair. “Damn it,” you groaned softly, pressing a hand to the back of your head. Sure enough, you felt the telltale dampness of blood. Keeping your hand there, you scrambled to your feet and stood the chair up. If Tohma came back to you on the floor and hurt, he’d think you were an idiot, or at the very least childish. You checked to make sure there wasn’t blood on the counter before wetting a paper towel at the sink, wringing out the excess and holding it to the back of your head. Maybe if you sat in front of the wall he wouldn’t notice anything wrong or different with your head. You slid your computer and phone over to a different chair and did just that.

“I’m back,” Tohma announced, his ashen hair falling just over his eye as he shouldered the door open. He set the bag of food and his drink on the table and eyed you curiously, noting that you’d moved seats. “Did you not order a drink?”

“No, I have one I brought tonight,” you smiled politely at him and mentally crossed your fingers that he wouldn’t ask any questions about you moving.

“Okay; just making sure the delivery wasn’t missing something,” he smiled back.

Once you both had your food out, you grabbed the energy drink you’d brought, earning you an interested and possibly amused glance from your coworker. “Honestly?” You said as you returned to your seat. “I don’t think caffeine really does much for me. I like this brand of energy drink, though, and I still try it for times like tonight when I’m working late,” you shrugged.

“Interesting. I’m a tea person myself, so that’s usually how I consume my caffeine. I’m not sure it affects me much either, though; I usually don’t bother to check whether or not a blend is decaf.”

You found yourself smiling softly. You could picture him sipping a cup of tea in his monocle, maybe sitting outside at a fancy cafe in a long, expensive coat. Oddly enough, though, you’d noticed he had two piercings in his ear, and that his monocle was chained to one of them. It was a curious accent to his otherwise tidy demeanor, and undoubtedly made you all the more interested in learning more about him.

“Shall we?” He gestured to both the food and the data sheets in front of you.

°°••....••°°

“I said I’d deal with it this weekend,” Tohma gruffly spoke into his phone. “Unlike some people, I am busy. I will talk to you later.” He hung up with a soft huff. If he was a bird, his feathers would most certainly be ruffled. As it were, his brows were pulled together slightly and his lips were pursed in a soft, irritated frown. He set his phone down on the table before fixing you with a customer service-esque smile. “I apologize. Just a friend of mine who thinks I can drop everything to help him at any moment.”

“Oh, no problem. Is there something you need to take care of?”

“No, not at all. He can wait a couple of days like I originally told him to.” As if he was finally present, he noticed the box in the middle of the table.

“I hope you like pizza, I got enough for both of us,” you gave him a reassuring smile as he sat next to you. That was the first time you’d seen him not uphold his careful composure, and even now his composition seemed somewhat strained, his steely eyes a bit more unfocused than usual and something tired about his expression that didn’t seem to belong there.

“Thank you. I’m not especially hungry at the moment but I’m sure I will be before too long. Are you ready to start rehearsing?” He scooted his chair in and leaned on his elbows against the table. Tonight he was sitting a bit closer to you than the previous two nights, close enough that you could make out several notes of his scent. Something herbal and a bit minty, a slight musky scent of some sort of aftershave or cologne, and the faintest hint of smoke. You couldn’t deny that he smelled quite nice, or that his scent suited him well.

You snapped yourself out of the thoughts, once again ridiculing yourself for having them in the first place. “Full transparency, I get a bit nervous when presenting stuff; once we get started I should do fine, and can at the very least bullshit my way through convincingly, but it might be better if you start the presentation.”

“Very well. Do you think if I kick us off with the introduction you’ll be able to follow in smoothly with the first set of statistics?”

“I do.”

“Perfect. Once you do that, we can work together to get through the rest. Tonight we’ll figure out where it feels most natural to alternate and whatnot.” He rubbed his neck as he stared at his computer. “Think of me as a safety net. If you’re doing well, I won’t step on your feet or cut you off, et cetera, but if you start struggling I won’t hesitate to jump in and take over. I have a lot of practice reading situations and making sure they turn out in my party’s favor.”

“Good to know. Thanks, Tohma.” You’d been a bit worried about how he might react to learning that the person he was doing a marketing pitch with was someone who wasn’t exactly the best at presentations, but he’d once again remained calm and good-natured, even despite seeming a bit worn out and on edge tonight.

The two of you fell into a comfortable repertoire, your rehearsal going smoother than expected. He really was a natural at directing the conversation.

“Can we be done now?” You sighed softly after yet another run-through of the slides.

“We can be done once you know your script well enough not to skip important information. If you like we can take a break for a few minutes, but we certainly aren’t done tonight. I’d like to get through it at least three more times, or until you know what you’re talking about.” Noticing your disgruntled attitude, he chuckled softly and leaned back. “The more we practice tonight, the less time we have to spend here after work tomorrow.”

Something in your chest twinged at his words as you realized he was right. Tomorrow would be your last night staying late together working on the project. You hadn’t realized you were actually enjoying his company enough that you’d miss doing overtime with him every night instead of going home. “Fine, let’s just get this over with then,” you sighed.

°°••....••°°

Tohma wasn’t there yet. This was the first time he wasn’t already in the break room waiting for you when you got there. You turned on your laptop and sat, trying to force yourself to think about something else. He wouldn’t ditch, right? Your eyes flicked to the clock. 6:36. Maybe he was just in the bathroom. Pulling up the presentation, you forced a deep breath into your lungs. He’d been happy with where you’d ended your rehearsals last night, maybe he’d decided another night of practice wasn’t necessary and had neglected to tell you he wasn’t coming.

As the time on the clock changed to 6:39, the door swung open. Tohma’s long legs easily brought him across the room to the counter, where he promptly set his bag. His shoulders were held upright as usual, but tonight there was a certain tenseness in them. He was frowning slightly; lines of tension were etched across his pristine face as well. “Is it a bit warm in here?”

You were a little startled by the rapidness of his appearance, and the question in place of a greeting, and all you could do was stare as he unbuttoned and removed his jacket. Without the extra layer, you could tell there was a clear definition to his muscles, more so than you’d expected. He wasn’t some steroid-ridden gym rat by a long shot, but he was certainly also no soft-bodied office worker. “A-are you alright?” You stammered as you looked him over. It was unusual of him to seem so uncollected.

“I’ll be fine, let’s just get through this,” he sat next to you, not bothering to get out his own computer since you already had the presentation up on yours.

Your rehearsal felt a bit more stunted than the night before, despite you being more comfortable with the information now. Eventually, you just stopped to look at Tohma. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because something definitely seems wrong.”

“I’m-” he sighed, leaning back and rubbing a hand over his neck. “My friend I mentioned yesterday is just getting on my nerves a bit more than usual. I know he’s got his issues, and I have a lot of patience, but he seems intent on wearing it out.” He turned to meet your gaze with a soft huff. “I’m sorry, none of this is your problem.”

“No, it’s fine.” You couldn’t manage to look away from him, subconsciously noting the myriad colors in his eyes; a sweet, somewhat-lavender cornflower tone, the light blue of a shadow on fresh snow, tiny flecks of a deeper, almost indigo color. You realized he wasn’t looking away either, nor was he saying anything. The tension around his eyes seemed to ease slightly, and there was the minutest shift in his expression. When his eyes finally broke away from yours, it was only for the briefest second; they flicked down to your lips before returning to your gaze. For a moment, you’d thought you were imagining it, but the blood rushing in your ears and your heart threatening to pound out of your chest made it hard to hear yourself think.

You moved toward him slightly, and he took it as an invitation. His hand pressed against the nape of your neck, pulling you to him, and his lips lowered to yours. They were impossibly soft, and fitted against yours like it was what they were meant for. Your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the sensation, letting out a soft whimper as he slid his tongue along your lower lip before gently biting it.

He pulled back, subtle disappointment curling in your chest, but then he grabbed the arm of your chair to turn it toward him. “Here,” his voice was quiet but tinged with an unusual roughness, an urgency you’d never heard in his tone. His arm wrapped around your waist and the warmth of his hand against the small of your back seeped through your shirt as he guided you over onto his lap. Without a second thought, you obliged. His thighs were firmer than you’d expected under you as you settled onto him, but you didn’t have much time to ponder before his lips were on you again. He kissed you deeply, insistently, like he was starving. His tongue pressed into your mouth and carefully played with yours while his hand slid up into your hair. Bringing your hands around from the firm planes of his back, you loosened his tie without breaking the kiss.

This is insane, you thought to yourself vaguely through the haze that was clouding your brain, but you weren’t about to complain. Once his tie was undone you wasted no time in unbuttoning his shirt, too. As you ran your hand over the warm expanse of newly revealed skin, your hips bucked against his, drawing a groan from him that sounded like honey. There was no doubt in your mind that he was already very hard under you. He leaned back to look at you, his thumb rubbing gentle circles against your waist. His sky-blue eyes were wide, glowing with a soft vulnerability you weren’t expecting to see there. You reached up and carefully slid his monocle from his face; the way it was connected to his earring hindered you for a moment, but it was worth it once you could admire his stunning face completely unobstructed.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered, yet showed no sign of stopping. He stood, lifting you and gingerly holding you to his chest, and set you on the table, nuzzling his face into your neck with a gentle nip. One hand on your waist to hold you steady and the other slowly tracing over your body, his tongue flicked out over the little bite marks he was leaving on you. He deftly unbuttoned your shirt; his hands felt cool against your heated skin.

Deep, aching desire coiled anew in your gut as Tohma’s steely eyes roamed your newly bared skin. “Do you want this?” he asked against your cheek. His breath tickled your skin and you sighed blithely.

“I want you,” you confirmed, and he kissed you with a fresh passion. His hips eagerly rolled against yours, creating a friction that only deepened the aching in your gut. With a pause, he pulled away, slipping his wallet from his back pocket and unbuckling his belt. The clank of the buckle sent a shiver of anticipation through you.

“You know,” he chuckled quietly as he drew something from the wallet. “One of my friends insisted I carry this; I told him I wouldn’t need it, but I suppose I’ve proved him wrong.” His fingers toyed with the condom for a moment as he looked it over, the wrapper crinkling, and then he set it on the table next to you. “I guess we should be thankful I gave in to his advice, hm?”

His fingertips brushed along your sides as he leaned back down to you. His lips found their way back to the sensitive skin of your neck and trailed languid, messy kisses down to your chest whilst his hands unhurriedly slid your waistband down your hips. The brush of the fabric, the short heated breaths against your skin, the soft pressure of him standing between your legs, it all had your head reeling desperately.

The vulnerability you’d been so sure you’d seen before was gone, his eyes shrouded with thick, hazy lust and an almost wicked half-smile playing across his lips as he divested you of what was left of your clothes. You felt like a mouse trapped by a tomcat, but you would happily let him devour you whole. One of his hands came to rest on your shoulder as he moved back to finally rid himself of his own pants, lightly pressing you down, the tabletop cool against your back. His fingers were long and elegant and easily pushed the garment down out of the way to better reveal the outline of his raging arousal. But, before also moving his underwear, before you even knew what was happening, you felt those slender fingers press against the intense heat between your legs. You gasped at the sudden contact, your head tipping back and your thighs tensing as he rubbed his fingers along your entrance. He was prepping you, you realized.

“T-Tohma,” you groaned as one of his fingers pushed into you, encouraging and spreading the wetness pooling there. At the sound of his name falling from your lips, his eyes blazed with an all-consuming desire, no trace of his earlier tiredness or tension present in his defined form. He pulled his hand back, the air filling the space coolly, and slid down his underwear. You couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head to look, not with the dizzied feeling pulsing in your skull with every shaky breath you drew. You’d feel him soon enough anyway. The soft, ephemeral crinkle of the condom’s wrapper let you know this was truly happening, any moment now.

“Oh, darling, you’re divine,” Tohma’s voice dripped with a corrupting, anticipatory tone, his hungry eyes raking over your form as you lay there ready to take him. His hands came to rest on your hips, gripping them firmly and holding them down against the table, and as he moved toward you you let your legs slide open a bit more and wrapped your ankles around the backs of his legs. You wanted him close, impossibly, unmentionably close. One of his hands left your hip to guide him between your legs and the head of his cock rubbed against your core as he leaned down to kiss your throat. You arched up into the feeling, whimpering and writhing, but he pulled back slightly. “Now, my little minx,” he whispered with an amusement that was adjacent to cruelty, “hold still. Be a good, patient girl for me.”

The commanding edge to his otherwise soft voice made you groan again but you listened, stilling under him as he closed the distance between you again. His hand squeezed your hip almost painfully as he eased his cock into you excruciatingly slowly. Bliss bloomed through your core as he entered you, the discomfort of his girth stretching you even dulling into ecstasy at the way he unhurriedly filled you. “Please,” you gasped, begging him to move.

He grinned, though now his disciplined expression was strained, his control threatening to slip at the wonderful sensation of being surrounded by your warmth. “Good little minx,” he nipped at your throat and slowly slid almost fully out of you, shuddering at the friction. Without further warning, he thrust himself in to the hilt with a near punishing force. Your hand resting on his wrist turned into a clawed grip, wanton cries spilling from your lips as he set a harsh pace. Each thrust was deliberate and sent a new wave of ecstasy through you.

As if that weren’t enough, Tohma had begun making noises that were sinfully sweet; desperate, saccharine whimpers and moans as he drove into you relentlessly. He’d placed his hand on the table next to you for support when he’d started, and now his arm was trembling, his nails digging little crescent marks into your hip where his other hand still rested. A light sheen of sweat formed over his sculpted, porcelain chest as it rose and fell more erratically, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his quivering grew worse. Dragging along your hot skin, his shaking hand uncurled from your hip and moved down to your thigh, his thumb carefully burrowing between your legs. Stars burst in your vision as he found your clit, a ragged groan escaping your throat and your eyes fluttering shut as he rubbed the sensitive spot. He continued, eliciting cries of his name from your lips as his hips started to stutter, his resolve crumbling completely as his movements grew more unstable.

Your walls trembled and constricted around him and you shook uncontrollably, grabbing at his neck and back to try and ground yourself as your climax tore through you. He cried out in pleasure as he found his release too. His forehead came to rest on yours as he weakly and unsteadily thrust into you a few more times for good measure, thoroughly riding out your orgasms. He finally stilled, panting hard, and moved off you to lay next to you. Though he didn’t pull you over against him, trying to cool off, he was still close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek and neck, and he rested an arm around your waist.

You took a moment to admire him like this as the haze in your brain cleared. His gently closed eyes, his swollen lips parted as he caught his breath, his flushed cheeks, his soft, ashen hair messy and sticking to his dampened forehead: you could’ve never imagined him looking this unkempt, but he was like a work of art. Slowly, cautiously, you moved a hand up to his warm cheek. His eyes flew open startledly, but then his expression softened again.

“I,” he paused as if looking for his next words. “Thank you.” Tentative affection stirred in his icy eyes as he looked at you, but then he blinked and cleared his throat and it was gone. “We should clean up,” he carefully got up from the table, striding over to the sink and dampening a paper towel before removing his condom, wiping himself off and wrapping the condom in the towel to hide the evidence before throwing it away. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, watching him as he stepped back over to the sink. He then approached you with another wetted paper towel, meeting your eyes as he leaned down to you as if asking if it was okay for him to clean you. You nodded and he carefully spread your legs again. One of his hands rested on the outside of your thigh while the other meticulously cleansed you.

Once he was finished, he stood again and zipped his pants, retrieving his shirt from his chair. You kept your eyes on him, studying the way his muscles rippled as he slid the garment back on. “Well, are you going to get dressed, or are you just going to stay like that the rest of the night?” Tohma teased, chuckling, and you felt your cheeks heat.

“Right, sorry.” A bit self-aware now, especially after how you’d been blatantly staring at him, you turned away and pulled your clothes on.

Tohma put back on his monocle, and with it his cool composure. Any softness he’d shown you had melted away as if it were never there to begin with. “Will you be able to focus if we continue work tonight? Or should we just run through it again before we present Monday?”

You blinked at him a moment, then cleared your throat. It was a fair question; you didn’t think you could just go back to what you were doing and pretend nothing had just transpired between the two of you. “Oh, um, I think I’ve got it down now, so if you wanna be done for tonight I’m fine with it.”

He nodded and picked up his bag. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you in the morning then. Good night.” Something in your chest twinged as he turned to leave, but he faced you again, lowering his voice. “If you’re lucky, maybe this could become a more… common occurrence,” he smirked softly. Your voice caught in your throat at the implication, your mouth opening wordlessly. The low chuckle he let out at your state only flustered you further.

“I, uh, good night, Tohma. See you in the morning.”

#tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #tdb #tohmaposting #i wrote like half of this in a jiffy lube waiting room #tohma ishibashi

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gymbunnycandiehart · 1 year ago

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10 Don’ts for any Gym Bunny

1) Don’t be a sissy in the gym–I get it: Some gym bunnies want to be sissies and be humiliated or feminized by men or women. If that’s your thing, more to you. But don’t be a sissy in the gym. Just because you’re a guy dressed like a girl doesn’t mean you have to be a powder puff.

2) Don’t let the gym rats steal your joy–Nobody should steal your joy. They might assault your happiness, but nobody can take the joy that belongs to you. Those intolerant beastly men (gym rats) are just upset because you’re hotter than their girlfriend.

3) Don’t overpad your sports bra–I can see why you would want to look stacked, but there’s no logical reason to give yourself extra padding. Nobody wants to see your pads falling out all over the place.

4) Don’t be a harry Mary in beast mode–On the flip side of being a sissy, neither do you want to be a clumpy beast of a guy. It just doesn’t work. Yes, work out hard and tough, but don’t try to compensate for the lack of manliness you are exhibiting in your cute workout clothes.

5) Don’t be a tease without intent–It’s a lot of fun to be a tease, to flirt, or pose seductively with weights in hand. But if you’re not trying to garner the sexual attention of some guy or girl, don’t do it. Save it for the shower (lol-just kidding).

6) Don’t wear tennis shoes twice in two days–Keep your outfits mixed up. If you are a true gym bunny, you have at least six pairs of adorable sneakers. Mix it up one day to the next and keep yourself looking fresh and beautiful from head to toe!

7) Don’t wear Keds to lift weights–Yeah, they’re cute with rompers and cutoff shorts, but they have no place in the squat rack…or even in the zumba class. They’re not made for that. Save them for the mall or for the boardwalk.

8) Don’t fret over your revealing clothing–If you’ve got a good tuck going on (see #10), then there is no reason why you can’t be as bare as permissible. You don’t want to be a slouch and you need not worry over what others think. If you’ve got it, flaunt it…not for others, but for your developing personality.

9) Don’t mismatch your tops and bottoms–If I have to explain this one, then you need to take up golf from the seniors’ tees.

10) Don’t forget to tuck yourself tightly–You’ll get used to it. Nothing ruins a sleek womanly look than some unsightly bulge in tight-fitted hot shorts. You’re better than that.

This was an OLD OLD post from way back when, but what a fun one! Have fun in the gym, girlies.

Love ya much

CandieHart

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aotopmha · 6 months ago

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For today, in terms of MSQ, I only did the level 95 dungeon and entered the zone after it.

(And then did a bunch of other stuff.)

So, spoilers!

I'm pretty certain this is the cutoff point for the first half of Dawntrail.

And I'm a little bit underwhelmed by Wuk Lamat in particular so far. All of the other characters were side characters to begin with, so getting more out of them than expected was a welcome surprise.

But Wuk is very much positioned as the main character.

And so much time was spent with her, yet somehow I feel like there is just something missing in her arc.

So far I think I have the same issue with her character I ultimately had with Lyse, plus other nuances. (And this is coming from someone who ended up liking Lyse.)

But first I'll address what I like about her character as of this point in the story.

Firstly, since I brought her character up again, I like that unlike Lyse, Wuk is fighting for the country she grew up in.

Yes, Stormblood discusses Lyse's self-righteousness, but she had no true ties beyond her father and sister in Ala Mhigo, characters we never see/are dead. Conrad and Mefrid exist, but she has no particularly strong ties with them (and Raubahn) beyond working together for the general goal of freedom.

So it feels like she fights for the cause because it is right, rather than having any true personal ties to the locations. And that's a solid motivation given the circumstances of the story. But why add that aspect to her character if it doesn't ultimately matter?

Wuk's entire arc is about learning about her birthplace, but more specifically a place she has actual "personal" ties with, rather than having a memory/legacy tied to it. We actually see her siblings and her father, so tangible connections to her as a character.

This is why I really like that she ended up appointing Koana as Dawnservant alongside her. It shows her growth and connection to him.

Secondly, I really like the Warrior of Light's and the Scions' mentor role here. It puts Wuk's (and Koana's) flaws in perspective, giving them intention. I adore that the writers found a natural role for them that doesn't downplay their achievements, but still allows them to go back into an adventurer's role.

And third, those sincere moments with Wuk's family I wished for? We got some more of them. As said, we got that moment with Koana at the ascension ceremony where she asks him to become Dawnservant with her, but the one with Bakool Ja Ja, someone that is not "family", was actually the most effective to me.

Genuine, in-the-moment empathy for a terrible situation.

They're simple, but just having those few moments of straight-forward emotional sincerity went a long way. And I'm happy we got that little bit with Rruk at the wrap-up, too.

So, this all sounds great.

So what is the issue here?

Well, the story really wants you to know how much Wuk Lamat has grown and just how cool she is.

This was my issue with Lyse. The story felt the need to push her as a main character, rather than just letting her arc happen.

It needs to ask you what your opinion of her is. It needs to tell you just how much progress Wuk Lamat is making.

It makes sense to some extent with the mentor arc given to the Scions and WoL mentioned above, but it still felt so overwhelming to me how much the story wants to push her as awesome rather than just letting her be as she is.

Remove all of that and she is automatically a much better character because the story already does all of the work to make her journey gradual and intentional.

We had a moment like this with Hythlodeus and Emet back in Endwalker, few times with Alphinaud across the game and perhaps a few times with Estinien and G'raha.

But it's really prominent with Lyse and Wuk. Just let the characters be who they are and let people decide whether they like said characters or not.

So, ultimately I think I just want a few more moments to solidify Wuk's arc that don't rely on her "default" mindset and for the narrative to stop pushing her so hard as main character.

One of the strongest scenes in the story so far was the campfire scene between Thancred, Urianger and Koana and the entire point of that scene was about being your honest self even if it is difficult or scary.

So, in my opinion, the story pushing Wuk like this feels contradictory to its spirit.

Aside from my opinions on Wuk, I will reiterate that I love the cultures and locations of the expansion so far. The pacing within its own ecosystem is so much better in comparison to expansions that have tried to do the same idea (ARR, StB, even perhaps HW).

Some of the cultures in the previous expansions are more interesting to me, but I think all of the ones in Dawntrail so far are more gracefully presented.

I think this might be my favourite aspect of the writing so far. Just really well done "societal" stories.

All of this said, the third dungeon was fantastic. Great environmental storytelling and bosses and an incredibly compelling mystery derived from it. I'll probably make a full post about it at some point.

But the detail I like the most about this mystery being put here is that I really have no idea what to guess here. With character motivations and a formula present, you have some backing and framing, but the mystery involving that gate could really be almost anything since as of now, the characters dismissed Allagans.

Maybe it is still Allagans or Ascians or Reflections, but you don't know. And that is incredibly exciting to me. An entirely new mystery to think about.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FFXIV #FF14 #Dawntrail #DT #FF #Final Fantasy

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can-i-make-image-descriptions · 3 months ago

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[Image IDs: Image #1: Tumblr reblog from lil-rubbish reading: As someone who has accidentally hit a pedestrian with my car and killed them (text mostly cutoff but still readable: Literally wtf is wrong will all of you.

Image #2: Tumblr post from sexHaver reading: i love crossing the street in front of cars where i can see the driver is visibly annoyed because like. are you mad at me? am i making you mad? are you upset? are you gonna kill me about it? gonna vehicular manslaughter me? gonna split my head open like a watermelon with that big strong manly truck? are you mad at me?

Reblog from icexprincess reading: I will hit you will my car.

Then I'll stop, get out and offer to take you to the hospital, visibly upset.

It's just an act of course. I'm not actually upset lol.

Then I'll take you home and dispose of your stupid ugly fucking body and no one will ever fucking find you.

Do not fucking test me.

I am not a good person.

(Yes the police will question me when you're reported missing, but they won't have enough evidence to build a case against me, and without a body, it can't be considered murder. You'll always be considered a missing person)

Reblog from sexHaver reading: are you mad at me?

Reblog from sexHaver of Tumblr tags from dylanadreams reading: #this post peeves me #my husband drives a truck and our dialogue is the opposite of this post #we Will manslaughter you bitch #but go ahead and walk in front of the giant truck that can easily kill you and get cocky about it moron #sorry this is not directed at who I'm reblogging this from /end tags

this post is doing numbers in the second-degree murder fandom

Reblog from sexHaver with 4 pictures. Picture a) Tumblr tags from akumanokami reading: #what if i just... floor it? #i always have the thought #will u dive out of the way? #will you scream curses in my carbon monoxide wake? #will you calmly welcome death? #will u tell stories about that time a crazy peroan alsmot killed u with their car? #then i think about all the bother and idk paperwork? thered be if i actually run someone over and meh #but the curiosity never dies #maybe someday. when im old and got not time to lose #im also hyper aware of this whenever im a pedestrian #what if im the one some other driver will run over out of curiosity? #time will tell

Picture b) Tumblr tags from sharraus reading: #I'll hit every single one of you fuckers #you can get a pass if you are old or disabled and Can't cross faster #everyone else is just a dick and no one will ever miss yo #I don't actually care if you're on a crosswalk #even if the light turns red #but if you're jaywalking you'd better fucking hurry motherfucker or I'm taking you down #and honking at you all the fucking way

Picture c) Tumblr reply from Honestly if you take pride in the idea of disrupting traffic, fuck you. People have places to be and all of our lives are shitty too. Fuck you for making life a little harder with pure willful and unapologetic intent. Die.

Picture d) Lyric segment: [Hook] Hoes Mad (x24)

Reblog from lil-rubbish reading: As someone who has accidentally hit a pedestrian with my car and killed them

Literally wtf is wrong with all of you

Reblog from sexHaver: Screengrab of a fish from Spongebob looking behind him

Image #3: Tumblr tag reading: #i like that the guy who killed someone is the most normal person in the thread /End IDs]

#i made an image description

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curtklingermanposts · 9 months ago

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Self-Talk

Do You Speak Harshly To Yourself?

Some people say things to themselves they would never say to someone else. As a matter of fact, they treat things better than themselves. Do you fall into this category? If so, why? How did this start? Did someone speak into your life something that should never have been said, and it took root in your heart? Do you realize it does not belong there, and it needs to be uprooted? You might reply, “Yes, I’ve tried to get rid of it, but I still can’t seem to shake it.” Perhaps this does not apply to you, but more than likely you know someone to whom it does. Either way, one important aspect to addressing this issue is dealing with its root cause, instead of simply trying to stop the action. To illustrate the point, we know if we pick all the fruit from a tree, more fruit will grow in its place. However, if we cutoff or kill the roots, the tree will cease to produce fruit.

Seeds, Roots and Fruit

Jesus pointed out that people speak from the abundance of the heart (see Matthew 12:34; Luke 6:45). Dovetailing on a previous question, what you believe you about yourself greatly affects how you treat yourself, which includes the quality of one’s self-talk. More than likely, most negativity towards yourself can be traced back to something someone close said or did to you. The seeds of negativity are usually planted when a person is young. It’s startling to know something said years ago still negative impacts people today. Even though this is not a new concept, many fail to recognize how it is currently affecting them. In fact, several consider it to be normal. Normal does not necessarily mean healthy or good! Getting used to pain does not make the pain, good. It is still causing problems. For example, a person with a sore foot will start walking with a limp. Eventually the limp becomes normal to them. Maybe it doesn’t seem so bad; but what if it begins to affect the spine as a result? Now there is additional pain. Pain can cause more pain, just as the saying goes: “Hurt people hurt people.” That does include individuals hurting themselves. It’s called, self-sabotage. This could introduce another lesson pertaining to those who sabotage relationships with others, in order to hurt themselves. They are connected. The one who speaks harshly to his or her self is causing self-inflicted pain. It reinforces a lie! A large portion of your thoughts or beliefs did not originate with you. Others gave you those thoughts. Not all of them are bad; in fact, some are very good. Of course, some are destructive and need to be expelled.

Cut The Roots

Ephesians 6:17 And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. Never underestimate the Word of God when it comes to making changes. As a matter of fact, apart from the Word of God (written and spoken), you’ll be incapable of godly change. It probes the heart and conscience, and exposes what is lurking in dark corners. Hebrews 4:12 For the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. One way to use the Sword to attack the roots is to compare your thoughts, along with your beliefs, to the Word with the help of Holy Spirit. One simple question can put an end to a wrong thought: Is that true? How does this compare to what God says? No matter how significant someone might be in your life (spouse, parent, grandparent, etc.), you cannot afford to place more weight on what he or she says than what God says. Psalm 139:14-18 I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are Thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from Thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in Thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them. How precious also are Thy thoughts unto me, O God! how great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they are more in number than the sand: when I awake, I am still with Thee. You are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God. To truly know yourself, or to find your true self, come to better know God. The more you know Him, the more you will know who are meant to be. That doesn’t make you a god; rather, His character becomes your character. Anything contrary to God’s nature, should also be contrary to yours. By walking in the Spirit, it is so! When you decide to believe God, your words will change.

perfectfaith.org

#perfectfaith #self-talk #talking to yourself #talking to myself

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destroy-the-4th-wall · 3 years ago

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Me: I wanna make a mod! :D

Me: *doesn't know how to code and has absolutely no attention sp

#especially for my hollow knight mod ideas #and yes that cutoff is intentional #i wish i had an attention span :'D #though this might be more related to my ADHD going 'NO CREATIVE PROCESS ONLY RESULT'#sIIIIGH #and i'm over here wanting to make an ADHD mod #just give Ghost ADHD #and then my ADHD brain goes 'no :)'#irony or just fitting?#both?#eh #how the heck do i actually sit down and learn #C-Sharp's a hard coding language though from what i've heard

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wantonrowls · 2 years ago

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Laughing too

you can read the first part here:

Minho snaps and stood to his seat. "I'll just get some air" He scoffs and pulls his hoodie from the couch and left. Han was quick to follow him outside before assuring everyone to proceed. He met him outside the building, leaning his back on the cold wall. He cautiously walked towards Minho who looks like in a deep thought.

It was moments of silence before Han breaks it with a exhale.

"Minho, did I ruined your night for letting Felix and Chan come over?..." he pauses as he stares at the older male "If so, I really do apologise. I didn't know that it was Chan to first off-" he was cutoff by Minho "No it wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you so stop apologising. This is your party and I should be the one to apologise if you were taken aback by my actions"

"I heard my name? Can I join you guys?" Chan popped out of nowhere. trudging towards the figure of Han and Minho. He leaned beside Han. He prompts a stick to his mouth and popped the lighter at the end of the cig. He puffs the blow upward to avoid it going into their faces.

"I know that you guys are kinda awkward with me because of Y/N and I can't blame you for that" He pauses to puff another "But to be honest I have clear intentions with Y/N and I really like h-..."

"Do you?" Minho cuts him off "Because the last time I checked, you used Hyunjin to get her number" He continues

"And I don't see the problem there" Chan answers "That's the thing, You yourself is the problem here"

"Can we just stop now? I don't like to cause a scene here" Han interrupts

It's been minutes since Minho left and the "I'll just join him to get some air you guys continue alright?" Han assures everyone before following him outside.

"Are you alright Y/N do you wanna drink something else?" Chan asks when you paused drinking and fall backwards on the couch. You still can't help but get frustrated over earlier at the truth or dare game.

"Yes, she is" was what you remembered Minho stated.

"No! I wanna drink some more!" You blurted out and downed your shot. When Chan poured for himself you steal his glass to drink another "Way to go Y/N! you really are a heavy drinker!" Chan compliments "Where's Minho?"

"D'you want me to get him?"

"Yes please" As you smiled back, Chan stood up from his seat and pulled his jacket "Alright Y/N please wait for me okay?" His dimples dip whenever he shoots the most caramel-like smile any person can't possess. Nodding sluggishly as he pats your hair and he headed out. It has been minutes when the three of them weren't coming back and you grew impatient, limping your way back from the rest room, you passed out at the couch beside Ryujin.

"Y/N wake up..." you felt a light tap on your cheek still passed tf out, head on the table, your face contorted when you felt another disturbance from your sleep, a tickle on your ear slapping on something at the what you felt was like a bug or something passing by your ear only to get caught by Minho. He clings your arm at his shoulder in a swift motion, pulling you out of Ryujin's back hug who is also in a deep slumber.

"Okaaay seems like we should call it a night" Han smiles. paying at the counter "This can't do, We should separate cause Changbin didn't borrowed his Mom's Limousine" "YOu haVe a LiMousiNe CoUz?!" Felix seemed amazed "YaAAaaaH! DoN't yOu DaRe IncLudE My Mom IntO THis!!" Changbin shouted at Han.

Hyunjin and Felix took a cab since they're roommates at their dorm, Changbin took Han and Ryujin without no excuses so Y/N was left to Minho and Chan's care. He carries Y/N in a piggy back while Chan is content on wearing Y/N's shoulder bag on his chest and her shoes on hand as they quietly walked towards the bus stop upon agreement

"dnf srkee lsnrje?" Y/N murmured on his back. He stifles a laugh when he hears Y/N's drunken voice contemplating whether to respond and tease which he did regardless

"You should hear yourself right now, you sound so stupid" He replies "gnd fjfkeks sjrke" Y/N murmured in his left shoulder, He hums back in response. "Should we sober up a bit? I'm kinda wanting some ice cream" Chan offers "Sure, yeah"

They stopped at a nearby convenience store, Y/N is still asleep, Chan came back with just two cones, one for him and another for Minho because apparently Y/N will throw up ugly if she inhales another thing

"Trust me, your liking to her would dissappear in an instant if you see how ugly she looks when throwing up" Minho convinces, Y/N is sound asleep in between them, hugging Chan's hoodie that he gave her upon arriving the store while wearing Minho's hoodie. Chan just laughs at the thought. His image of you in his perceptive mind is something that could not easily get distorted by any kind of frugal instances instigated by Minho.

"I'm sorry if I somehow made you guys awkward by attending Han's party"

"Stop with the apologies, I'm not from Super Junior" Minho replies, Chan is clueless of the connection of the response and why is Super Junior included in the context as he faces his direction pondering to ask

"Super Junior - Sorry, Sorry, Duh..." Minho looks at him "Ah?-ha!-hahaha!" Chan broken-ly laughs in response

"Anyway, I'm just not fond of new people, 'specially you since you like her" Minho continues pointing at Y/N's face facing Chan's side. "May I know why?"

"Cause"

"Cause, what?"

"Cause I like her too" Chan gazes on Y/N's face, cautious whether he spots any reaction upon her close friend's confession then went back to Minho's who is locking his gaze at the outdoor cat who passed by them

"You better not rat me out or I'll tell her you took a video of her prancing on Dancing Queen by ABBA"

"No I won't dare" Chan laughs in response

Now that Chan knows Minho's feelings and their midnight ice cream shenanigans are done, they left to bring back Y/N to the dorms, they were spotted by a night owl Nayeon at the front door of their shared room tossing her body at her bed, thanking Nayeon and then going down to Minho's room

"Spend the night, yeah?"

"You sure?" Chan asks

"It's midnight and it's not like we'll hug and snuggle so whatevs" Minho tosses on his side while Chan quietly acquired the other side

"You know what's funny Minho?"

"Hmm?"

"You don't look like a bad person at all even though I have heard some funny stories from Hyunjin and some from Felix's"

"Shut up before I toss you out the building" Minho replies tired and half asleep

You woke up with a bad headache. Running your thumb in circles at the sides of your head, Glacing on your phone. Glad that it's Friday indicating of just 1 afternoon class at Mrs. I. You glanced to your side to find Nayeon "Girl, you got two pieces of hot asses on you, what's your secret?" She greets, you squinted as you tried to understand her only to fail and fall on your back "What?" "Minho and another hot dude returned you back here"

You sat up and poured youself a glass of water from the bedside, shoving your hair in a messy bun, still in the burning sensation of the alcohol from last night. You proceed to stare blankly at a wall rewinding everything you could remember;

You were playing spin the bottle of truth or dare, Han took your spot on Minho's side, You took his previous seat, You asked who Minho likes, You're not clearly sure who 'she' is, Felix arrived with Chan, Minho left and then Han left and then Chan went to get them and last thing you knew, Ryujin hugging you and the both of you falling asleep at the couch. Your glance was caught by two hoodies hanged to the doorframe one familiar and one somewhat familiar.

"Isn't that Chan's?"

After your simple brekkie, you attended your subject without Minho, you tried breaking in to his room but it was locked, you sent out some texts but got zero replies, so far the only person you could ask was at the front gate of your campus. Holding his jacket to your chest tightly, you welcomed him in a hug

"How was your head?" Chan asks, face buried on the side of your shoulder

"I'm all good, Nayeon unnie boiled some soup for me for breakfast"

Breaking from the hug, you settled down at one of the benches at the catwalk of your uni where it's nice and quiet. You handed out his jacket, patting it down his lap

"I can't remember what happened last night"

"We took you home" He simply replied

"For sure, yeah..." You replied back "Listen-...

Can I ask you one simple question Y/N?" you nodded back, he stood up, kneeling at your front, a hand holding yours in a soft manner. His hair swifly moving to his side from the light breeze of air. His lips curling to a smile almost melting your heart, his eyes beneath you softly gazing at yours.

"You know how much I like you, right?" You slowly nodded "I know Channie"

"May I know if you like me too?"

"Yeah I do"

"Not as a friend Y/N, I mean as a potential partner. Do you like me as a boyfriend?"

THUMP

You gazed at him long enough to zone out. To look deep beyond your chest, to find whatever the answer was. And to be honest, it was difficult. You were glad about Chan entering your life because you have never found someone who really shows his respect and fondness of you regardless whether someone's looking or just the two of you. His sweet gestures never leave you curling to your feet. He's a gentleman since day one and your friends think so too. Hell, he might even drop everything for you in a heartbeat if given.

Can you do the same?

Meanwhile, the long gaze gives you off and Chan can already see the answer beneath your pursed lips, your hazel eyes and a tear forming at the lower lines of it. His thumb wipes at the side of your cheeks at the roll of your tears down your face, Chan gulps a lump on his throat. He can never accept to see your vulnerable state in any possible way and if given, he should shield you away from your fears, which he'll gladly do regardless if you like him too or not.

"I know that you like Minho" You stiffle a sob as he pulls you to his chest, His hand patting your back, running it in circles, "I'm just glad to meet you Y/N and to have spend some time with you" He continues

"And since the first day I met you, I was so sure that I like you, just so you know" Chan calmly continued his sentence, while you sob at his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Channie" You quietly respond

"Don't. It's your heart Y/N. Don't you ever apologise for something you like" He felt you nodded and he chuckles at the thought. He kisses your hair before breaking the hug.

You frantically ran through every spot that Minho hangs out. The gym that Changbin and him exercised, only to find Changbin.

"He didn't stop by here but I'll let you know once I see him" Changbin assures you so you went to the next stop which was the cooking club that he attended every Friday which was today but to your surprise he was absent today.

"I dunno, I have no pair in baking brownies so I asked Felix to be his spot" Han replies "Have you checked at the park? It's five stops from Qwe Station to Iop Station if you take a bus"

"The old cat shelter? where he picked up Doongie?" referring to the cat that Minho adopted. Han nodded, hugging him and Felix before leaving.

You took the bus as per advised, You held a hand to your chest, Your heart pounding at the thought of finally seeing him, Your stomach in a knot and you can't contain the excitement running through your body. You hoped that the bus could fly fast to your destination.

When you arrived you sprinted outside earning a shout from the driver but you disregarded and continued to follow the path towards the small cat shelter. You rang the doorbell and was greeted by one of the volunteers hence the pink vest suit with name tag ' Volunteer cat rescuer: Seungmin'

"Hiya! Is Minho in there?" You greeted, he smiles barely showing his braces "Yeah! but he just left minutes ago. He dropped by and gave us some cat snacks and milk. You should see him around" You thanked him and went around the park.

You go over the hills, the children's park, the preschool, and finally the fisher's pond. It took you minutes of shouting 'Minho! where are you?' before you spotted him quietly holding his rod towards the pond, his three cats, Soongie, Doongie and Dori chilling beside him at the mini tent that he made. You ran towards him, locking him in a hug, his rod falling to his leg but regardless holding you tight into him. You both realeased to gaze at each other.

"I've been looking for you everywhere!" you playfully throws a punch at his chest, He raised a brow at you "And I'm just here all along" he replies. You took a step forward, leaning slowly to his face, closing your eyes,

Then you felt your lips at his, his hand pulls you further to his face, He maneuvers his face to a side so he could deepen the kiss, your hand steady at his shoulders. He pulls from the kiss, lovingly gazing at you

"If you did that again I'm not sure if I'll be able to let go of you" You leaned again for a kiss and he kisses back "I'm yours, forever" you replied in between kisses.

"You know how I found out that Minho was basically head over heels for Y/N?" Han laughs, getting the attention of their friends at the table, Glancing proudly like a dear father at You and Minho's side. Both of you unaware of your friends commotion at their table on your wedding

"How?" Changbin curiously asks

"Because whenever we cracked some jokes regardless of who said it Minho will basically look at her side to see if she's laughing too"

END

Whew! Sorry the second and last part took a while! I hope you guys liked this ಠ⁠◡⁠ಠ

Tagging: @helpsplease | @secretwhisperer

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