#sunday night smoke session

[wildheartfreespirited]

Tomorrow I take my daughter to her other grandma's, we're meeting halfway. I'm gonna miss the hell out of her while she's gone. But, I'll be kid free for an entire week. What's a girl to do 🤔🤣

#me #my thoughts #seriously though #sunday night smoke session #kidfree

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie where Eddie moves into a small house in a retirement mobile home park. He is the youngest guy there and is pretty handy. All the old ladies in the neighbourhood start to talk about him when he begins to offer his handyman skills to them as well.

One day after finishing up winterizing Mrs. Harrington’s water supply to her trailer she invites Eddie inside for some tea to warm up. Winter hadn’t hit yet but it was already nippy out she told him. Once inside she invites him to come over Sunday night to join her and her friends ‘book club’. At first Eddie politely declines but once she explains to him that its all the old ladies in the neighbourhood sitting around drinking wine, smoking joints, and gossiping he’s in.

Enter Steve who visits his grandma every Sunday for dinner and sometimes stays for her gossip sessions with all the other bitties in the neighbourhood because the snacks are always great. Steve is surprised that week when the door bell rings and a hot long haired pierced man covered in tattoos is standing there instead of another old woman handing him her coat and cane. Steve sputters for a moment but then his grandmother is coming up behind him explaining this is the young man who fixed her water supply for her.

“Well um, thank you for that.” Steve nods awkwardly, watching over his shoulder as his grandmother waddled away back to her friends. “You didn’t have to come though, sorry if she twisted your arm about it, she’s stubborn.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with a small chuckle.

“It’s okay I really don’t mind.” Eddie smiled easily, inching his way into the house and Steve’s personal space. “Smoking weed with a bunch of old ladies and gossiping about my new neighbours sounds like a great way for me to spend my Sunday.” He winked.

“I- yeah it is pretty fun.” Steve agreed having not moved at all. “The snacks are always great too, you’ll have to try Betty’s blondie cake it’s always my favourite.” Steve leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

Eddie beamed back at him, eyes roving all over Steve’s face before pausing at his lips for a second then darting back up to his eyes. “Lead the way then big boy.” Eddie bit his lip at how red Steve’s face got, he decided to push it slipping his hand into Steve’s.

“Yeah- uh sure yeah.” Steve nodded dumbly staring at their connected hands for a moment before snapping out of it and tugging Eddie along. “Everything is set up in the living room, I just got the fire going to so it should be warm.”

By the end of the night Eddie and Steve were melted into one another on a small single seater in the corner of the room. They watched as all the ladies gathered their coats one by one as their husbands came to collect them.

“It’s sweet.” Steve sighed unprompted, his head lolled against Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie made a questioning noise so he continued. “Seeing their husbands come walk them back home at the end of the night. They aren’t annoyed that their wives are giggly and a bit wobbly they are just happy they are happy and want to be there to take care of them.”

“You are a sappy stoner Steve.” Eddie teased, he moved his hand over and dropped it onto Steve’s thigh giving it a squeeze. “Can’t say I blame you though, it is very cute to see.” Eddie sighed before unsticking himself from Steve’s side and making his way to the door himself. “I better get going, no husband to come walk me home”. He blushed at the implication of his own words.

“I’ll be your husband.” Steve blurted then immediately turned red. “I mean- I meant that I uhum-“

“You can walk me home Steve.” Eddie smiled wide and teasingly. He looked his arm through Steve’s and tugged him through the door, waving goodbye to Mrs.Harrington with a promise to be back next week.

The walk was short considering Eddie was only 2 houses down and one across. They kept their arms looped the entire 3 minutes they walked, and once they reached the door Steve still hadn’t let go.

“Well goodnight.” Steve spoke first, ducking his head away. He took a deep breath then looked back to Eddie determination on his face when he spoke. “See you next week?”

Eddie smiled but shook his head, “I was hoping sooner, how does Wednesday sound?” He moved in closer his hand sliding down to Steve’s waist.

“Wednesday is great I love Wednesday.” Steve nodded frantically then cringed. “I mean I don’t actually love all Wednesday’s just this one because we are-“

Eddie cut his rambling off with a kiss. He leaned in and connected their lips, his free hand coming up to cradle the back of Steve’s head.

Steve melted into the kiss, his body going lax in Eddie’s hold, “Thanks for saving me from embarrassing myself further.”

“Anytime sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things ships #steve x eddie #stranger things #stranger things one shot #meet cute #strangers to lovers #flustered steve Harrington #eddie munson has peircings and tattoos #eddie munson knows how to flirt #confident eddie munson #gay steve harrington #steve harrington pov #handy eddie munson #gay eddie munson

[hoshifighting]

Have you ever made love?

Synopsis: Jeonghan is your sex partner for months, but then, you discover he never made love with someone before, and you are ready to fulfill this pending.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Situatioship, smut, oral (m. receiving), penetrative sex, alcohol, eye contact, quality time, Jeonghan making (real) love from the first time, reader is kinda rational at first, unprotected sex (wrap it up), mentions of blood pressure, a sneaky link that is not sneaky. [my first time writing in english, sorry about some grammatical errors]

You and Jeonghan had began this thing in the beggining of the year, at first you started as friends, since both of you had friends in common. So you basically lived hanging out with the group, and you got along so well, and faster then the others. Parties, minibars, soccer on Wednesdays, movie sessions in Joshua´s house… A lot of places that everyone wanted to tell how you looked like a couple, or how you had a sexual tension, topics that at first you denied. But after thinking a lot about that subject, he decided to take action, asking you on a date - finally alone with you -, resulting in kissing you right before you arrive at the fancy restaurant he was going to take you to.

And these types of meetings have become frequent. Messy lipstick, crumpled sheets on a Friday night, after a few glasses of wine and some eye contact. It was too simple to have a time with Jeonghan during your nights, you just needed to call him, and tell how stressful and tense you are from work, he would understand the hint! And he also knows he can count on you on certain occasions. But always making sure that you don’t need to leave your cozy house on a cold Sunday just to see him, he would drive to your place and bring you some of your favorite chocolate.

Everything was too comfortable like this, no feelings involved, just partnership linked to attraction. None of you have to be trapped in a relationship, or even hide what you have, it’s just a casual thing. That's the first impression though. Everyone tell you, that you need to take it forward, but when you met for the first time, both of you had just broke up from tiring relationships, and that why you had to take a time before you have intimacy with someone again, and you didn’t want to affect your relationship with the group if something goes wrong - even when you discussed about this before, in case something happen, it wouldn’t destroy the vibe of the group -, anyways, it was too much for your mind right now, you just prefer to sleep under your duvet knowing that you had the best sex of your life on a random cold day, and you wouldn’t need to give some explanation in the morning after.

Today was one of the nights where you decided to spend the night in Jeonghan’s place. You are cooking, while he puts some covers and pillows for you on the couch, choosing a movie to finish the week in the best way possible, making sure that he will wash the dishes later. 

“I really want to make love with you tonight Jake…” the protagonist said, when they fucked almost the whole movie, Jeonghan couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “Whats the difference between fucking and making love? It’s the same thing!”

“Oh my god what? Of course it’s not!” You looked at him unbelieving.

“There is?”

“Yes! There is!” You turned your attention to the TV again. Thinking how he couldn’t see the difference, you two fucked rough, including slaps, hair pulling, chocking and even more, how can he think this is love making? He must be kidding!

[…] 

After cleaning the dishes, he was holding you in his arms while you watched the stars and the light of the moon breaking into his apartment window. You turn to look at Jeonghan's face since he was very silent, and you find him staring at a random spot, thoughtful. “I can almost see smoke going out of your head… Why are you so contemplative?” You asked, sliding your nails on his forearm.

“How would you define making love?” 

You stopped for seconds, to give him the right answer, when is a topic really very relative “I don’t really know how to explain, it just… it just happens, but the difference is very clear” you look at him, and he twist his eyes to the ceiling “Jeonghan” 

“Hm?”

“Have you ever made love?” 

He looks at you confused, then looks back at the ceiling in complete silence. Suddenly he feels like he can’t speak, or remember when he did love. “No… I never made love”

You get up fast and look at him with wide eyes “Oh my god! How? But you had girlfriends before, I know that, how have you never made love?” 

“Y/N, have you ever made love?” Jeonghan stares at you anxious for an answer, still shocked about the information processing it. You nod positive, knowing the awkward atmosphere created in the room. After a minute of silence, you get up searching for your backpack “It’s already late, I think I should go Jeonghan” he runs to you, holding your hand, centimeters separating your faces. “No! Please, stay…” you drop your backpack on the floor again “I mean, Y/N, show me what making love is… Please” you stare at him internally surprised by how he’s asking so gently, almost begging on his knees, no sarcasm, so submissive, that was not common coming from Jeonghan. You touch his cheek and he lays his face on your palm, eyes sparkling with lust. Your lips meet gently, a kiss almost innocent, you never did this with him before, and honestly, you just decided to leave this fear behind. He hugs your waist, gluing your bodies together, walking disastrously to his bedroom, until you lay him on the bed.

Both of you removing your clothes in a blink of eyes, you tongue kiss him, sliding your hand on his warm skin, you can feel the arousal dripping from Jeonghan’s cock on your thigh, your mouth starts to kiss him on the neck, on his chest, on his abdomen, until you reach his pelvis. At this point, he was squirming in your kisses, whimpering when your nails slid on his waist. He looks at you, and starts to blush, and you slime “It’s okay Hannie, I will make you feel good”. 

There’s no need for him to be shy, you had sex a lot of times, your naked bodies were nothing new to the two of you, but it was his first time feeling someone taking time with him, bathing his body with kisses, and he didn’t even start to do anything yet. You kiss the tip of his cock, and his belly shakes a little with the sensitivity, then you slide his whole length inside your warm mouth, making Jeonghan hiss at the feeling. You bob your head on his cock, while he holds a ponytail of your hair, you can feel the veins of his cock getting thick and the precum mixing with your saliva, stopping abruptly from sucking him, making him moan with the loss of contact.

You rise until you are at the level of his face again, humping your wet pussy on his cock, making cries leave from his mouth while he squint his eyes “Oh my god, you are so w-wet baby” 

“Am I?” You smile, slamming your ass on him, his whole length inside of you right now, a weak moan leaves your mouth with your grip tight on the sheets, while Jeonghan arches his back calling your name like a mantra. Your wetness is already dripping on his balls, hips starting to move in a slow pace, while you moan in his ear. “How does it feel, baby? You are so deep inside of me, I won’t last long…” Jeonghan moans at your aroused voice. “Feels so good, so good baby, please don’t stop, please don’t stop!” He closes his eyes tightly, groans coming from the back of his throat.

“Open your eyes” you order, and he looks at you with hooded eyes “I want you to look at me, don’t close your eyes” he nods aggressively.

Jeonghan offer his hands as a support for you continue riding him, your eyes fixed on his, the room fulfilled with your moans and your thighs start to tighten around his hips, your orgasms approaching every second, the way that his tip was hitting your g spot made you clench so hard around him, that he swears he’s seeing stars right now “Ah Hannie! I’m cumming!” You groan loud, rolling your hips against him until you cum harshly on his dick, and he furrowed his eyebrows, mouth open like an “O” while you ride your orgasm. Your body collapses on him, and he holds you tightly while you don’t stop the rhythm from your hips. Your cries from the oversensitivity is making him feel so close, and the eye contact was still intact, one of your hands gripping his hair, and another holding his face. He brush your noses together, feeling your breath on his face, feeling devoted from the intensity of the feelings at the moment.

Suddenly he flips you over, still inside of you, doing circles on your clit with his thumb, while he pounds inside of you deep, looking another harshly orgasm to you “Hannie, H-Hanie!” You scream his name, crying while you dig your nails on his back. His hair glue on the skin of his forehead, and his mouth on yours right now, kissing you sloppy, since the both of you can’t stop moaning, the fast pace of his hips makes the headboard hit the wall, but you couldn’t care less, you just wanted to feel him cumming inside of you right now.

 “Cum for me, show me how much you love being with me” you speak on his ear, and like a switch, his orgasm washes him “Y/NNN” he moans filling you with his cum, and finally closing his eyes dealing with his pressure gradually falling from the orgasm.

He lays on the bed, by your side, hugging you with his face on the crock of your neck, until his vision comes back.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #svt smut #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan sub #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen reactions #seventeen scenarios #seventeen smut #svtcreations #seventeen headcanons #jeonghan x reader #hoshifighting writes

[jo-harrington]

Standard Operating Procedures 1.05 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: It's a normal Sunday night. You're just going over to have dinner, smoke, and listen to music. It's not a date. What could possibly go wrong?

Previous Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.04

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual pining, alcohol and drug use (wine, beer, and weed), R has a minor panic attack while high, fluff, lighthearted smut (petting/groping/dry humping), minor angst, misunderstandings and miscommunication, driving probably a little under the influence, slight anachronism (slapping the bag)

Note: Big note for this one if you've read the most recent installations of SMVerse that I've posted...this is NOT in chronological order. SM and Eddie are not together in this one, we are rewinding back before Closing Time. This chapter and the next one are both a little longer and have been lingering in my head for quite a long time. Almost a year. So without further ado, please enjoy SOP 1.05.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Sundays were your favorite days, hands down.

They sort of always had been, even before moving to Hawkins. Now, though, you had an extra special reason why they were your favorite.

Sundays meant that you could be yourself after you clocked out. They meant standing in the mirror and wiping away the layers of glitter eyeshadow and scented nail polish off. They meant shedding the overly sparkly jewelry from work and the trendy clothes from the JCPenney or Madigan's Juniors department that were definitely cut for a teenage body.

No matter how young you still were, you just weren't sixteen anymore.

You could finally breathe a little easier.

No more Dress to Impress, no more preppy popular girl, no more customer service voice.

Sundays meant freedom.

Lately, part of that freedom meant walking out of the store, taking the most freeing breath you could, and walking right up to your crush best friend so you could spend those last few dying hours of the weekend together.

Shooting the breeze, laughing, and getting to know one another. Getting to really see one another.

Tonight, though, there was just this cloud hanging over you as you stood in the store's bathroom after hours and shucked off the plaid vest and fashionably unmatched skirt you'd chosen for the day in favor of a t-shirt and comfy stirrup pants.

Summer was over, school was back in session, and you hadn't gotten to see Eddie as much as you normally did.

Which, in the grander scheme of things, a lot of things changed with the new school year starting: a bunch of your associate's schedules changed, a few of them even left town for college, and business started to slow a little during the week for the first time since the store opened.

Still, you missed him.

It felt weird from practically seeing him every day to only seeing him in passing or on the weekends.

What if he didn't want to be friends anymore?

Well, that was just silly. Some remnant of fear about the fickleness of your friends memories in childhood. Besides, the first shift after school started back up, he immediately came running to your store and talked your ear off about the new kids that he forced to join Hellfire.

"God, they're such losers," he reminisced with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips. "They have so much potential. I can't wait for you to meet them."

Tonight though...

Tonight was like any normal night; you were getting together after the mall closed and picking up pizza.

However, instead of any of your usual haunts or shenanigans in and around Hawkins, Eddie insisted you come over to his place. Totally normal.

"And we can smoke," he added as an afterthought.

"You know I don't smoke Eddie," you reminded him. "My grandpa and his crackly lungs? I've taken him to enough doctor's appointments."

"Doesn't stop you from sucking up the air around me when I'm having a cigarette on break. No. I mean smoke. Reefer. Weed. Jesus, don't act ignorant Miss Goody Two Shoes."

"Excuse me," you choked. "How am I Miss Goody Two Shoes?"

"Because," he began with dramatic emphasis. "For all of your stories about garage beers and parties that your work friends dragged you to, you've never mentioned partaking in any sort of illicit substances. You're being obtuse on purpose or you're afraid."

You were caught like a deer in the headlights.

"I...I'm not."

And you weren't; it wasn't fear. It was just...inexperience.

Back home you were always careful, even when you hung around friends from school or work; with your overprotective father and uptight mother and two brothers who wouldn't hesitate to rat you out if they found out you broke some kind of rule? It would be over.

So you never got too wild at parties. Disheveled clothes could be straightened, and you could pretend that swollen lips were just a side effect of getting a little sick. You never drank more beer than whatever made you feel a little floaty if you weren't sleeping over at a friends. And you never smoked weed.

Ok so it was fear, in a way; residual fear. Just not the way Eddie thought.

"Hey, don't worry," Eddie said in the most understanding way he could. "You just tell me and I'll drop it, if you're afraid."

You wanted to tell him, wanted to explain it, but in a moment of reflection and wanting to assuage his worries, defiance got the better of you and you told him that you weren't afraid and it would all be fine.

You were going to be with him; you never needed to be afraid when you were with him.

Now though, staring at yourself in the mirror as you got ready to go and meet Eddie you realized you might have made a mistake.

Hanging out with your crush friend alone at his place? Fine. Sitting close on the couch as you ate pizza and listened to music? Cool. Drinking and smoking together, knowing that you got a little bit chatty when you loosened up a little bit under the influence? Uhm.

What could possibly go wrong?

---

The spread that you and Eddie had created was impressive.

Pizza and a six pack and red vines and...and...and...

Eddie was usually very thorough when it came to providing snacks or planning outings where you could get a nice little treat together. Tonight it was partially your fault.

You'd originally planned just to drive to his place after work and the pizza would be delivered, but he said that when he'd called to place the order at Lou's--large pepperoni and a box of cannoli--they told him that the delivery driver was out. Takeout only.

But then he also forgot to stop at Bradley's for soda.

So you offered to go to Bradley's while he picked up the pizza, and you might have gone overboard.

Soda and a box of wine and peanut m&m's and...and...and...

"And you say that I'm bad," Eddie scoffed as you walked in, arms laden with shopping bags.

"Excuse me, this is the once in a blue moon you let me pay for anything, I'm gonna take advantage of it."

Wayne was still home getting ready for his shift when you got there and he simply shook his head at your bickering with a fond smile, then pilfered a little of everything for his own dinner before leaving you both to it.

Once he was gone, the festivities began.

You were both overzealous, talking a mile a minute over each other about your days as you set up for the night. Eddie divvied out food--creating a plate that reminded you of the Peanuts' Thanksgiving feast, overflowing with multicolored candies and popcorn and pizza slices--as you took care of the drinks.

You were a little smug that you got to teach Eddie something during these little Sunday night not-dates for once.

"Where did you learn this?" he asked skeptically as you ripped into the cardboard box. "What even is Franzia? Sounds fancy."

"It is the least fancy thing you can get," you grinned maniacally and freed the floppy plastic bag full of pink liquid from its confines. "Honestly I should have thrown it in the fridge but it's fine. You can put it with some coke; it'd probably taste better anyway."

He made a face.

"I'll just have a beer."

"Oh my--Eddie! Live a little." You settled the bag on the coffee table and gestured to it. "You don't have to drink it...chug a beer, I don't care...but you need to slap it."

He huffed and shuffled across the carpet on his knees to settle beside you.

"Is this a Claire's thing?" he asked, he looked up at you through his bangs.

"No it's not a--well...no. It doesn't matter! My old store manager, Jen, made us do it whenever we went to parties and hung out at her place. It's fun."

"Why does this feel like a lie?"

You reached out and smacked your hand against the plastic, listened to the liquid slosh inside. He let out a long suffering sigh but gestured for you to go ahead and he settled on the floor as you squealed with glee.

Eddie popped the little tab on the spout and the cheap wine poured freely into his mouth; he maintained eye contact with you the whole time, even as he choked on the unfamiliar taste of the pink zinfandel.

When you'd hung out with Jen and your coworkers and friends, it was just...a silly thing. Now, though, it was just you and Eddie; you stood over him with the bag gently held in your hands over his mouth and his hand rested on your calf as he drank. It was tense and intimate and as you started feeling a little hot under the collar, you wondered if this was a mistake.

Regardless, when he'd had his fill, he shut the spout and raised his hand and slapped the bag so hard it soared out of your grasp and across the living room.

You both burst out laughing as it swished and sloshed with a pronounced glorp on impact with the floor, and Eddie collapsed against your legs as the giddiness got the better of him.

"Ok, that's better than a keg stand." He looked up at you and wiped a hand over his mouth. "Blagh...probably gonna need that coke if I have any more though. Your turn, sweetheart."

Then the tables were turned, but unlike Eddie, you stood toe to toe with him as he held the bag for you.

To avoid the tense eye contact, you kept yours closed as you pulled mouthful after mouthful from the bag. You almost felt a little smug; you'd always been good at this, despite how awful the wine burps were gonna get after. You knew Eddie's competitive nature--always seeing who could finish a blizzard from DQ first and giving himself a brain freeze in the process--so you were hoping to last a little longer, hit the bag a little harder, and get him to concede.

You counted down in your head and finally when you couldn't take the heartburn the wine caused any longer, you shut the spout and released it, ready for victory.

Of course, opening your eyes provided nothing of the sort.

Eddie stood there, inches away from you; his pupils were blown and he was breathing a little heavily and for a split second you thought to ask if he was ok.

Until he leaned a little closer.

Close enough where you could smell the laundry detergent and the general amalgamation of mall scents coming off of him.

Then you noticed that his eyes were locked onto…your lips?

Was he gonna kiss you?

You already thought…well…and in the van the other week? When he licked frosting off your hand? You'd thought...

Except that was the thing, you always thought, you never acted. Too stuck in your head weighing and judging the options and if you could just do something about it. If you could just lean forward a little, you could stop worrying and have your answer right?

And if it wasn't meant to be and things were weird? If he didn't actually mean to try and kiss you? You worked retail; you could bullshit with the best of them if worse came to worse.

Then you'd just pretend that your heart didn't ache from rejection for the duration of your friendship. You were already familiar with disappointment; this would be no different.

Alright, that's it, you weren't gonna chance it anymore. All the worrying you did back at the store was enough. You were just gonna kiss him. Just lean forward; just go. Just go. One, two...two and a half...

Eddie's eyelids fluttered a little bit, and your heart clenched in hope, until he leaned away and cleared his throat.

The wine bag was tossed onto the coffee table and Eddie gestured to the plates he'd prepared.

"So, pizza?"

---

Music was the next event of the night.

And the weed.

Funny how all of your anxiety over smoking flew out the window when you were anxious about something else.

Because you just couldn't get your feelings out of your head after Eddie walked away from a kiss like that.

Was it even going to be a kiss? Or was it just the awkwardness of your positions in that situation? Were you overthinking the overthinking?

On and on those thoughts spiraled.

Until Eddie said he was going to get his stereo to start your comprehensive education of metal.

"We really don't have all night Eddie," you said and threw a balled up napkin at him as he fiddled with his tapes.

"Ok, maybe not fully comprehensive," he held his hands up in surrender. "Nothing sounds better than vinyl and I have all of that at Rick's. And my mom's records. You wanna talk about classics? We've gotta spend a whole weekend there."

He put a tape into the slot and hit play and the room was immediately filled with guitar riffs and singing and shouting; he turned the volume down immediately.

"I've gotta give you the whole history sweetheart," he explained. "So you've gotta hear me too. This song's not so important...I'll turn it up when we get to the good part."

Of course, Eddie's music history lesson...started with him.

"Picture this," he said, arms waving as he walked over to his school things that had been haphazardly thrown in a corner of the room: a wilted canvas backpack, a black binder, and a dented metal lunchbox. "11-year old me, fresh after my mom's funeral and everyone she knew was coming up to us but I refused to talk. Wayne kept making excuse after excuse. But Rick, bless him, said 'gotta make him cry.'"

And on he went as he spilled the contents of the dented lunchbox on the coffee table and began the fine work of rolling a joint.

"Took me to the record store, let me pick out whatever I wanted. Of course I chose Sad Wings of Destiny because the art was cool. Little did I know that would change the course of my life forever."

You didn’t know what to focus on and that made you spiral a little bit further. The words, the music, his lips and his fingers as he followed steps that he seemed to know but didn't feel the need to elaborate on were all very appealing targets; the music and his story was what was important here though and you made the attempt.

He told his story in a way that only Eddie Munson knew how to—arms flailing, minute details, expressions and voices and everything you loved admired about him. He took a moment to swap cassettes and crank up the volume before he fell onto the couch beside you in a mess of cushions and limbs and hair.

"I would say ladies first," he began as he presented the joint to you. He then stuck it between his lips and continued talking around it. "But I'm nothing if not a gentleman and I need to teach you how to do this. It's a little different than cigarettes."

It was a comprehensive lesson and you'd gotten the hang of it quickly, but the proximity did nothing to help calm your nerves; Eddie's knee touching yours, his face and hands so close to yours as he held the joint to your lips, then one hand your shoulder as he soothed the cough that escaped you after your first hit, and finally the way he inhaled along with you as you took another.

Want burned in your lungs along with the smoke, but it didn't leave you when you finally exhaled.

You were very much looking forward to the light and mellow feeling that Eddie promised once the weed hit your system.

"Until then," he grinned and took another hit himself before dropping the smoldering stick into a nearby ashtray. "We just dive into the mind of the great Ronnie James Dio."

You rested back against the cushions and turned your head to really watch him; it was strange just...observing him. You had never done it like this before, close and quiet at this distance. Your time together was always spent with conversation and laughter, your observations and mental notes about him done in little snapshots as he moved through life like a blur.

Now you got to experience the simplicity of his presence in private and the addictive frequency that he emitted.

It was nice.

You watched the way his lashes brushed against his skin as he melted into the sofa beside you and closed his eyes. The way his plush lips pursed and then stretched as he hummed along to the music. You closed your own eyes for a second as he matched the sharpness of the lyrics with his voice, hushed and then shrill, and then hushed again.

And when you opened them back up to watch him some more, he was watching you and practically vibrating.

Your heart skipped a beat...

"Sweetheart," he reached out and touched your wrist. "You ok?"

Wait...he wasn't vibrating.

You were.

Then you noticed that your heart skipped many beats, then the beats suddenly tripled, and then it all slowed again, pounding harder and faster in your chest than you believed to be possible.

Did your chest hurt? Or were you imagining it?

It felt like the few times you ran the mile back in high school, but you hadn't run.

Had you?

Your legs felt like jelly. Your arms too.

So you must have run...but when?

No wait, you were forgetting something. Your chest, your heart, your lungs. You had to focus on them first, you needed them to live.

You tried to fix it all by taking a great gulp of air in--if you felt like you'd just run the mile, surely catching your breath would fix it--but you found that it didn't fix anything. In fact, you seemed to lose even more control of your body. You floundered, breathing heavily over and over, quicker and quicker to try and get a hold of yourself.

And the panic set in, unlike anything you'd ever experienced before in your life.

Your consciousness became untethered from your body and you sank deep within yourself. Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Only instead of a rabbit hole, the you that existed in your mind fell away from your eyes and deeper into your skull then out the back of it and into the so-soft cushions of the couch.

But this wasn't sinking, this wasn't melting. This was being buried alive.

You remembered Eddie’s taunting before, about being afraid of smoking. Why hadn’t you told him that you didn’t want to do this? Why hadn’t you told him you were afraid? You were a stubborn idiot and now you’d die here, buried amongst pilling fabric and lost change and lint and a few cheerios that were stuck between the cushions.

You would die here on Eddie's couch...

"Eddie!" you practically sobbed and reached out for him, remembering suddenly that he was there with you. Why wasn't he doing anything to keep you from sinking? "Help!"

"It's ok hey!" He grabbed your hands now and pulled you back from the void, hooked the tether back onto you and saved you from the depths. "It's ok, breathe. No, not like that. Slowly, deep breaths with me. In and hold it and out. Whoooooo."

You focused on the whooshing sound of the air that escaped his lips and you tried to make the same sound yourself. Over and over, slowly as he guided you.

"That's it," he smiled. "Good girl."

You slowly grounded yourself through Eddie, escaping whatever horrible clutches had just grasped at you. You began to feel better, lighter; more centered within yourself but…nicer?

Had that awful feeling been the high? Or was this?

Maybe everyone got caught by a demon when they smoked and then if they escaped they felt a nice light flutter and instead of a heavy beating heart that threatened to burst out of their chests, they felt...silly. Happy. Bubbly.

Like you did whenever you were around Eddie.

Only now it was better, and it was all getting better as he spoke to you and smiled and wiped at the few tears that had escaped your eyes.

Breathe in, breathe out. Good girl.

You kept breathing and staring at his lips.

Breathe in.

Lips.

Breathe out.

Eddie's lips.

Good girl.

You thought about earlier...minutes or hours you couldn't tell for sure...about the way Eddie leaned close to you and almost kissed you. All the worry you'd had about not being able to make a move because you were thinking so much you couldn't act. Here you were now, thinking again. When his lips were right there and you could do something about it.

With one last shaky breath, bubbly infatuation flooded your body; you smiled and said one final farewell to your nervous thoughts, and you surged forward. Your hands shook his away and grabbed at his face, as your lips slid clumsily against his.

Your noses bumped and teeth clacked painfully but it didn't quite matter because the sparks that emanated from your joined lips shot through your limbs and made you both feel tingly and pleasant. At least, you assumed they did for Eddie because he let out a sound that was somewhere in between a giggle and a moan.

But he didn't push you away; in fact, his hands clapped over yours and smushed them further into his cheeks.

He wanted you to kiss him. He wanted to kiss you. He...liked you.

It was a euphoric moment of joy and realization, but your need to put your lips on him outweighed that. So you tried again. Gentler this time.

Eddie followed your lead for a little while as you pulled him towards you; one of his hands found your waist as the other arm rounded your shoulders, and he became your anchor to prevent you from being buried by the sofa again. As thanks for his chivalry, you gifted him with soft caresses, quick pecks, and sharp little nips.

Your fingers developed a mind of their own, and seemed to love his cheekbones and getting tangled in his hair, although they couldn't quite decide which they loved more so back and forth they went.

The rest of you, though--mind and body--just basked in the kissing.

You were good at kissing; you liked kissing. And you liked kissing Eddie, more than you ever thought you would. Kissing under the light, buzzy influence of a beer or two was nice, and it might have been the weed or it could have just been Eddie himself, but this was nicer. Floaty and tingly and transcendent.

The music itself had stopped, but Eddie himself continued to provide the soundtrack to the night. Instead of guitars and vocals and pounding drums, it was a symphony of soft hums and sweet sighs.

Eddie, who often pilfered bites and nibbles off your plate and cited that he was a "growing boy," seemed to prove that his hunger was greater than yours the way he bit and nibbled at you too, appetite growing the longer you kissed. The pace you set no longer fed him the way he wanted and he started to feast a little more; that was a side-effect of being high, right? Hunger. Insatiable hunger?

His mouth pulled away from yours and started to explore your jaw, the column of your neck, the junction between your neck and shoulder. You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his attention, of his lips and hands as he gave and took, of the floaty feeling that settled comfortably in your limbs now, all the nerves of the day forgotten.

Before you knew it, your own hunger grew as well. You wanted him closer, needed more of him now that you had him.

You let yourself drift back along the pillows until you were laying comfortably and pulled Eddie along with you; one hand still lingered in his hair as the other fisted the collar of his shirt and got him right where you needed him to be.

Of course, you couldn't just take without giving as well, and as he settled onto you, your hips bucked up into him. You both moaned--savoring the proximity and delicious friction that his jeans and your leggings provided--and then giggled together as he collapsed on top of you, unprepared for the sudden surge of delight.

His breath fanned across your neck and jaw as he laughed breathlessly, and your hands caressed his head and shoulders fondly as you mirrored him.

He strained his neck a little to look you in the eye; his grin accentuated all the lines in his face, and for a second he struggled to form words. His mouth opened and closed silently and then he licked his lips to compose himself. The next thing you knew, his hand was coming up and squeezing one of your breasts with an exaggerated "honk" as he fell back against the other one and pressed his mouth to the swell over your shirt.

Back into the throes of unadulterated giggles you both went as he continued to honk and kiss and suck at exposed skin.

One of the highlights of the whole night was when he blew a raspberry against your neck; the feeling of goosebumps that erupted along your body and the spittle that sprayed across your skin would be a sensation you would remember and cherish forever.

"No fair," you whined and shifted against him again, both to protest the fact that you currently couldn't return the favor of all the attention he was giving you. Nevertheless, you treated him to the attention that you could, and you bucked your hips up again, only to be met with the feeling of him grinding down onto you.

Giggles began to mingle with desperate pants as he began to shift against you and settled into the cradle of your thighs; he grew harder and ground and rutted against the covered softness of you, faster and sharper, and your body eagerly responded, wanting to be as close to him as you could. As close as either of you could honestly fathom at this point, feeling too good like this to consider that there was more pleasure to be had if time went on and clothes came off.

Sunday nights together were truly gleeful and hedonistic, and tonight was no different. However, instead of snacks and arguments accentuated by the sounds of light-hearted talk and laughter, it was your writhing bodies and mingled breaths that took center stage; the two of you never stopped, only paused for your lips to smack wetly against one another, for your nails to rake through his hair and scratch against his scalp, and for him to grasp at your hips to pull you closer and closer as he drove you higher and higher.

"Eddie, I'm--" you broke away from him and keened, and he responded with a husky "uh-huh" and pressed his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes closed as you felt the pleasure building between the two of you, as he moaned and your toes curled...

As keys jingled in the lock of the front door of the trailer.

...and suddenly it was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over the both of you and you froze, all thought of completion forgotten.

Your eyes shot open and you stared into Eddie's panic-filled, pleasure-blown pupils. He shifted sharply and then paused, almost like a glitch, and then he was off you, across to the other side of the couch in the blink of an eye. You watched, dumbstruck, as he panted heavily to control his breathing, and he held his head in shaking hands.

"No, no," he muttered. "Shit. Shit."

You reacted quickly as the door started to squeak open--throwing your legs over the edge of the sofa to sit upright as your hands clumsily fixed your disheveled clothes--and Wayne walked in. You took the extra second as he grumbled at the threshold and fiddled with his keys to look at Eddie, hoping for some kind of...secret conspiratorial smile or...or heated gaze...just something but he refused to look at you.

Suddenly, all of the good feelings that had flooded you since the moment that Eddie had chased your panic away...they vanished. The sweet giggles and shared pleasure were gone; even the love bites you were sure Eddie had left behind stung instead of blissfully buzzed.

And in their place, an acute clarity of what the two of you had just done.

"You wouldn't believe the mess I walked into tonight," Wayne chuckled with disbelief as he finally shut the door.

No kidding Wayne, you thought bitterly.

"Some of the machines were down when I got there and it took a few hours to figure out the problem. Some rusted old part..." On and on he chattered as you spiraled, stuck in your thoughts once again.

You and Eddie, Eddie and you. You and your secret crush...had just...on his couch. You and your best friend, your only friend in town...got high and kissed and canoodled and now he refused to even look at you.

You didn't know if it was the weed again or if it was just you, but you could see stars in the corners of your eyes and you felt lightheaded as the panic settled back in. And it only got worse the longer you sat there and tried to get some kind of sign from Eddie, only to be left with nothing. Such a stark contrast from just moments ago where you were giving and taking and responding to one another so freely.

Giving and taking...was that really what it was? Or did you just...do this to him? Do this to the both of you? Effectively tank your friendship the way you'd worried about since the first time you'd hung out and Eddie had specifically said it wasn't a date?

You abruptly got to your feet and Wayne stopped his chatter and looked at you questioningly.

"I..." you felt your throat closing up with emotion. "I just forgot I have a really important call first thing tomorrow. I...need to go!"

Eddie finally looked at you with wide, shocked eyes.

Were those tears? Oh god...

"I...it was nice to see you Wayne, sorry..." you scrambled to grab your bag from where you'd tossed it by the door and then looked back at both Munsons. Back and forth at Wayne's curious expression...and Eddie's devastated one. "I'm...sorry."

And you bolted out the door, into your car, and back across town to the lonely confines of your apartment, where you would wish for a second chance at Sunday all over again.

Because until tonight, Sundays had always been your favorite days.

Next Part: Leave of Absence

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #store manager verse #Eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #stranger things Eddie munson

[chrollohearttags]

“…let me take you out”

・❥・them + their favorite types of dates ・❥・ft. eren, armin, jean, connie (I may do a part two)

content + themes: fluff, cuteness and crack, black reader, mentions of weed, mentions of smut, kissing/makeout

📝: I’m starting a lil series I’m calling Soft Life Sundays, where I give y’all some sweet, tooth rotting fluff because I love it. These are all my personal ideas, but you may disagree and that’s okay. I don’t need to hear about it. This is all in good fun 🥰

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

ღ eren loves fun, non conventional dates. He doesn’t mind the dressing up and fancy dinners from time to time but he much rather scoop you up with a bouquet of flowers, a little gift bag filled with snacks and something he picked out because he heard you talking about it on a random Tuesday one time. Your fits, I could see him in some Dunks, a hoodie and sweats (or shorts and a baseball jersey) and you in a sundress..looking all cute. He’d want to do something like a little carnival where they serve all these fair foods that are incredibly unhealthy but soooo good and he’d be eating it all and he can show off by winning you a giant stuffed animal he totally doesn’t brag about the whole night. “I’m the best, baby. I told you.” 🙄 he’d love to do go kart racing, mini golf or even an arcade or roller skating. He’s competitive so he might get a lil carried away but it’s all love! Y’all would have the best time and he’d constantly check to make sure you’re having a good time because he can’t stop smiling. Of course, spending the day with you is enough to keep him happy for weeks. Might end the night with a little smoke session + a movie (and maybe a lil sum else if you’re up for it. (mainly him eating you out until you fall asleep 😩)

ღ armin is obviously the inquisitive and intelligent type so he’d want your date to be as educational as it is fun. Of course, you love it all the same because you guys pick each other’s brains on things all the time. He’d take you to a museum, where they have all of these cool exhibits, explaining everything to you like a little personal tour guide. and a gift shop full of trinkets that he wants to buy for you. He sees you ogling the crystal and rock display while asking him all of these questions so now you’ve got two hundred dollars worth of malachite and amethyst keychains, displays and whatever else you wanted! “These are so beautiful! Thank you, Armie!” “It nearly as gorgeous as you but I’m happy you like them.” (bonus: I could see him taking you to a play/amphitheater as well) you guys would visit your favorite ramen + boba shop, just laughing and talking..enjoying each other’s company. You’d probably where coordinating outfits..something with an earthy green tone and super cute! You’d end the night back at his place where you guys would probably listen to music and just chill (maybe a little making out + spooning depending on the mood) and you’d fall asleep in each other’s arms.

ღ jean is all about the flare and spoiling his lady. He’s a gentleman, a romantic through and through. He doesn’t do anything halfway and spares no expense for his lady for a special night out. I think he’s the type of man to take the reigns and plan everything (not in a controlling way but you like when he shows that dominance) including your outfit, surprising you with a dress and heels you couldn’t stop eyeing at the mall so he had it delivered to your house, along with a box of eternal roses with a sweet little card and some adorable note that’s like “just like these flowers, may our love last forever.” And you’re about to sob! But you have to finish getting ready because he’ll be there at eight on the dot so you guys can make those reservations at that new five star French restaurant that just opened. Of course, he pulls up in some expensive two seater and the outfit to match. A really nice suit and my God, does he look good. But his eyes are all on you. “You look stunning, my love.” Opening your door and everything. He loves holding your hand while driving, stealing glances of you the whole night. When you guys get to dinner, he’s helping you order things, speaking French to the waiter (so attractive 😩) and EVERYTHING is delicious. Including the escargot, which you had reservations on. “Not bad, right?” “It’s so good!” He would also rent you guys a fancy hotel room across town, where he’d have rose petals scattered about the room, strawberries, chocolate and champagne waiting for you guys and he’d spend the night sweet talking you whilst you guys drank and ate. You’d end the night in the warm bubble bath, cuddled up and touching all over each other. (And getting a lil freaky after that liquor gets in your system) Just a nice, romantic evening.

ღ connie is gonna bring the party wherever he is! Mans just loves a good time. I feel like he too won’t be much into the whole fancy dinners and flare but he would plan something super unique and fun. You’ll be chilling and he’ll be like ‘hey, there’s a Paint and Sip not too far from here. You wanna go?!” All excited and of course, you’d be more than happy to.” He’d be the main one in there dancing and singing, just bringing allll the energy! Like it’s never a dull moment with Constance! Afterwards, he’d take you to a food truck or a really niche spot in the heart of downtown that he grew up on (I see him as Dominican/Afro Latina obvs). And he just wants to share it with you! “Here, mama. Try this..I think you’ll like it.” And don’t let them be playing some Latin music, he’d have you in the middle of the restaurant or the sidewalk, doing Bachata. He would be the best! I could also see you guys having a fun night in, consisting of you guys cooking your favorite dishes, getting a bunch of nail polishes and painting each others nails or him letting you dye his hair.

#cherry’s drabbles 🍒🌷 #aot x black reader #black fem reader #aot drabbles #aot imagines #aot headcanons #black reader #connie springer #eren jaeger #armin artlert #jean kirschtien #eren x black fem!reader #connie x black reader #armin x black reader #jean x black reader #aot fluff #fluff drabble #black reader fluff #aot au #aot x reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan x reader #black fanfiction #cw alcohol #cw smut #attack on titan #aot hcs #eren hcs #jean headcanons #armin headcanons

[theemporium]

Girl you write Daniel SO well😍 I’ve been thinking about him x sunshine. She’s really freaked out on race day (like hyperventilating) and won’t get in the car but Daniel calms her down

aww thank you!!🥹I don’t know if I made it clear but sunshine is an engineer not a driver, but I’ve kept vibes of the request so I hope you enjoy!! And thank you for requesting!!🖤

masterlist

.

It was a dream. 

A stupid, highly realistic dream that had the unfortunate possibility of becoming a reality in the world of Formula One and Motorsports. 

You weren’t sure what exactly started the dreams, or why the thought was suddenly in your head. But it started in between race weekends, when you were in England to work on the cars with the other engineers in the factory. Daniel hadn’t come with, instead using the small break between races to return to his home in Monaco before he joined the rest of the team.

The first night you had the dream, it felt so realistic that you ended up phoning Daniel at three in the morning, desperate to hear his voice and assure he is okay. He had asked you what was wrong and you simply told him you missed him. 

To which he simply replied, “I miss you too, sunshine, can’t wait to kiss your face”.

But then three days later, you found yourself pressed against your headboard, chest heaving like your lungs were fighting for air and the sheets feeling tacky against your sweaty skin, but you didn’t have the heart to wake Daniel in the middle of the night again. Instead, you laid there, fighting the urge to fall back asleep in case the same, twisted dream returned to you.

It wasn’t a dream though. It was a fucking nightmare. It was filled with high speeds, big crashes, smoke, blood and everything else that was unsettling in a Formula One scene. Sometimes you would wake up shaking, sometimes you would wake up crying.

Either way, you never felt truly settled until you heard his voice. And even then, you still found yourself fighting the pit of anxiety in your stomach whenever you crawled into bed at night. It was taking a toll on you and you knew that, but you didn’t have the heart to tell Daniel.

But he knew. 

The boy could read you like the back of his hand and he knew something was up with you when you reunited in the next racing country, when you clung onto him for five minutes like someone he hadn’t seen in years rather than just under two weeks. But he knew you wouldn’t tell him and he wasn’t going to push you. He was sure you would tell him in your own time. 

Then, the racing weekend started and suddenly, the images from the nightmares were lingering in the back of your mind. 

Each free practice session left you digging your nails into your palms. Qualifying had you almost passing out after each round, needing to have eyes on Daniel’s car every second he was out on the track. But then Sunday came around and everything felt far too much.

Daniel was in the garage, going over a few notes with the strategists and his race engineer when he noticed the way you were lingering by his side. He reached over, his hand intertwining with yours as he squeezed it three times, waiting for you to reciprocate. 

But you didn’t.

Daniel tried to hide his frown, tried to focus on the plans and data that was being told to him, but all he could focus on was you. It was minutes later when his race engineer slapped him on the back and told him to head out to the car to set up before lights out. He turned to you, prepared to kiss your lips before he slipped his balaclava and helmet on, only to see you weren’t smiling at him as usual.

You looked distressed, almost looking a bit shell shocked as though you had seen a ghost. Your grip on his hand was so tight, he was almost concerned you were going to break some bones. Your chest was starting to rise and fall much faster than it should have and he quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey, hey,” his face dropped in concern, his hands instantly coming up to cup your face. “What’s wrong, sunshine? C’mon, speak to me.”

“Don’t,” you shook your head as you were struck with the twisted idea that maybe the dreams were a sign. “Don’t get in the car.”

His brows furrowed together. “What?” 

“Don’t get into the car,” you choked out as you pressed your palms against his chest, only to fist the material in your hands like you were scared he would disappear. “You…I can’t…you…what if…”

“Shhh, deep breaths f’me, sunshine,” he murmured as he tilted your head up slightly so your eyes caught his. “C’mon, copy me. Deep breaths. In and out. In and out.”

Your breaths were shaky and ragged but Daniel didn’t stop. He was vaguely aware of people in the garage watching you both, probably wondering why he wasn’t heading out to the track. But he didn’t care about them, he didn’t care if the FIA fined him. His focus was on you.

“That’s it,” he praised softly, his thumbs running over the apples of your cheeks to wipe away any stray tears that fell. “That’s my girl.”

Your heart was still thundering in your chest as you looked up at him. “I don’t wanna lose you, Danny.” 

He gave you a soft smile. “You’re not gonna lose me, baby.”

You shook your head. “You don’t know what could happen—”

“You’re right, I don’t know. But I know that I wanna come back to you after every race,” he told you, his words soft though his eyes held his sincerity. “And I will do my damn best to do it every single time.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t be,” he smiled and leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. 

Your eyes fluttered shut at the touch. 

“Here’s what is gonna happen,” he murmured as he pulled away, just enough for his nose to brush against yours. “I’m gonna go out there and fucking show the world the rocket ship my girl has made for me—”

You snorted lightly.

“—and then I’m gonna come back, we are gonna get some takeaway after the race and watch that vampire movie you love,” Daniel finished, the tightness in his chest easing when he saw you smile a little. 

“It’s not any vampire movie, Danny, it’s twilight,” you huffed.

“Sorry, sunshine,” Daniel grinned before finally pressing his lips against yours. “Do we have a deal?” 

“Deal,” you replied, the words spoken against his lips.

“Good,” he grinned as he finally pulled back, grabbing his helmet and balaclava before he started walking backwards out of the garage. “Tell Christian to give you a radio! I wanna talk to you during a race!”

“You’re not allowed to,” you said, shaking your head.

But he just grinned widely, spreading his arms out. “I’m a rule breaker, sunshine!” 

And you could only laugh as you watched him race off, the uneasiness in your stomach still there but something about it felt lighter knowing that Daniel meant the words he said. He wanted to come back to you and he will. 

Every single time.

.

#daniel ricciardo #formula one #f1 #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one oneshot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

[hey-august]

Close your eyes, just settle, settle

Word count: ~1.4k Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, buggy x GN!reader, no use of Y/N, partaking in the devil's lettuce 🍃, masturbation while fantasizing about sex, assumed unrequired infatuation, smidge of edging/delayed orgasm, lil bit of angst and shame at the end. Apparently I have a thing for lonely perv buggy whoops

Title from "A Decade Under the Influence" by Taking Back Sunday

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Moonbeams seep into the room. Slow and lazy, easily caught in the swirling heady smoke. A lighter clicks. A deep inhale followed by a slow exhale, nearly a sigh, adds to the drifting currents. Buggy sinks into his pillows, the softness tricking his body into thinking it might fall straight through. 

While the pirate prefers copious amounts of alcohol as his main vice, some nights he’ll indulge in a different session. A sticky feeling on his fingertips, the taste of fire and ash, a deeply earthy smell that’s pleasantly unpleasant. It doesn’t take long for the smoke to blur the edges of his mind and stretch it out like loose cotton. The fiber seems to extend throughout his body, replacing muscle with fluff, and wicking away moisture in his mouth. 

His body moves to meet the craving while the thoughts are still traversing the maze in his head. He pauses for a moment, holding the glass of water, and waits for the next step to reveal itself. Drink. Of course. He gulps down the refreshing liquid. Quickly, greedily.

Coolness rushes in his body, a tide of crisp hydration. Rivulets escape the corners of his mouth, coursing down his chin and neck, before stopping among the blue curls on his chest. Buggy sets down the glass and returns to the nest of pillows, feeling at home with the cushioning.

The water on his body is cold. Then warm. It feels good. His body reacts with goosebumps. His nipples harden. Now that’s all he can think about - two points of tension sending electricity through his soft, fluid body. Buggy closes his eyes and follows the trail, visiting the body parts as they light up. His biceps and shoulders. Fingertips. Ribcage and stomach. Skin held under the tight waistband of his underwear. Thighs under the fabric. Everything that’s encased in the only clothing he has on. 

The signal concentrates in one spot and Buggy’s not sure if he willed that to happen. But it does. He feels the swelling. Movement. Growth. Pulses that flash thoughts in his head. Thoughts of you. It always happens - there’s a connection that Buggy can’t break. The bobbing of his dick easily catches the teasing images swimming through his imagination.

Buggy’s body is heavy. He tries to ignore himself, despite his cock crying for attention. Precum is already seeping into his underwear and smears with each throb. Fuck, it feels good. He still tries to ignore it, though. The fabric dances against the underside of his sensitive head. Buggy bites his lip and indulges for a moment, letting the tension move his erection. Feeling it fight against the fabric before falling with a sticky sound on his pelvis. A sound that he desperately wants to recreate with you. Rubbing and hitting his dripping tip against your flushed cheeks. Across your kiss-bruised lips. On your thighs. 

Body moving faster than his mind once again, Buggy slips a hand - just a hand - under the waistband and drags it along his swollen cock. It’s hot and needy beneath his touch. Moving his hand lower, the pirate cups his heavy balls. Still soft and pliable, they fill his grasp and flow with a gentle massage.

His mind was too focused on touch and forgot to remind the pirate to breathe. Really breathe. A lungful of oxygen reignites the herby air in his body, somehow adding to the haze in his head, rather than clearing it out. Feeling his control fraying, Buggy releases the anchor and floats in the body high. He pulls off his underwear and lets his body meld into the soft sheets and pillows, becoming a part of the environment.

Buggy closes his eyes and looks for you. He’s seen your face flushed from exertion, so it’s easy to reframe the scene and imagine you looking down at him like that. Your sparkling eyes glazing over with lust, redness spreading from your cheeks to your ears, tongue darting out to lick your delicious lips. He thumbs the tip of his cock, swirling the viscous precum around his head in anticipation of the vision of you lowering yourself down.

Frowning in concentration, he thinks about how you’d gasp feeling his flared head enter your body. The way you’d sink down slowly, giving your body time to adjust and to memorize the feel of his member. Buggy drags a loose grasp along his cock, imagining it dragging along your insides. Releasing a shaky breath, he tightens his grip. It’s nothing like how your heat would feel, but it helps him fantasize.

He squeezes down to the base, wanting to be fully sheathed in your body. His cock twitches within the imposed prison, a sensation that would probably have you whine in response. Seeking more, you’d rock your hips and grind. Buggy can’t replicate that, so he adds to the scene instead. Your hands on his chest, holding yourself up. His touch would run up your thighs and to your rolling hips, before reaching around to your ass. He’d grope and squeeze, pulling your asscheeks apart so he feels deeper. So you feel fuller. So full that you have to let out the moans and whimpers you had been holding in.

Buggy fists himself faster. His balls start to tighten and he feels the thread in his body grow taut. You’re amazing. Lovely. You’d feel so good. His foggy head can only focus on directing the manifestation, not on an accompanying script. The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him.

“F-fuck, you’re taking it so well. You’re taking me so well.” “You make me feel good, baby.” “I can feel you twitching on m-my cock.” “Tell me how full you feel.” “Fuck, harder p-please.” “Yeah, just like that. Keep going, gonna cum.” “N-no, stop teasing. P-put it back in. Please, please…”

Despite his looming climax, Buggy pulls back and whimpers between gasping breaths. He maintains a hold at the head of his distressed cock. How sinful you’d look like that, with just the tip of his dick stretching you out. Bucking against his hold, Buggy can see how you’d tremble from thrusts that don’t bottom, from a teasing touch that would break you when you give in. And you would. You’d fall to his sweet words and promises.

“I’ll make you feel so good. Don’t you want to cum on my cock?” “Please, I w-want to feel you. I need to feel you squeeze me.” “S’like my dick was made for you.” “Fuck, l-let me put it in, please. Wanna be deep in you.”

He’d wait until you let him. His toes would curl. His breath would hitch. He’d bite his lips. He’d beg. And when you do let him fully thrust into you, you’d fall apart. 

Buggy fucks his fist without abandon, through the climax that would have you shaking on top of his body, crying out for the pleasure overwhelming you. Imaginary pleasure that snaps his own thread, the tension exploding from his cock and all over his hand and stomach. There’s a lot. You’d feel it fill your insides and some would escape with each thrust. Buggy groans as he milks every drop, imagining the pearls that would escape when you pull yourself off of him. As much as he wants you to stay, the vision drifts away until it’s lost in the empty swirling air.

The hot ecstasy in his body also starts to dissipate, leaving behind an uncomfortable emptiness. Buggy uses his discarded underwear to clean up. The still-warm jizz leaves a chill slick as the fabric struggles to soak the sticky liquid. Swallowing his disgust, Buggy scrapes the cloth against himself hard, scrubbing the unwelcome remnants. It’s still not the best cleaning job. He still feels dirty. Scummy, both inside and out.

Buggy drops the soiled clothing onto the floor and reaches towards the side table so he can burn the guilt into ash. Smoke fills his lungs, but not the aching void in his chest. Falling back with a sigh, Buggy tries to replace the hole with promises that are just as empty. Plans to talk to you. To tell you how he feels. To face fear, rather than drown in remorse. Anything to chase away the loneliness he’s surrounded himself with.

Ignoring the sting pricking the corners of his dry eyes, Buggy lets his mind follow the hope until it flies too high and he falls back to sleep.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A/N: Gonna keep sharing the lines that I particularly like. This time it's "The words he’d want to say simply come out. Not for him to hear, but to taste. To feel in his mouth, just as he feels you riding him."

#buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown #buggy the clown smut #one piece smut #buggy x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader

[archangeldyke-all]

ugh the one about sevika not wearing her reading glasses 🙁

what would growing older with sevika look like?

a;lkjs;ldkfj this is sooooo cute ugh

men and minors dni

it would take forever for her hair to go fully white. for a longggg time she rocks the salt and pepper look, and it's about the hottest thing you've ever seen.

i don't think she'd have many physical ailments as she grew older, the strength and muscle she developed in her younger life helps keep her strong as she grows old. but she'd hate it when she starts being unable to move like she used to. when she has to stop tapping out during training ten minutes in, or when she can't bench press as much as she used to, it really gets to her.

these are the moments that you swoop in and remind her that it's normal and natural for strength to diminish with age-- that it's a blessing, in fact, because it means she's lived long enough to be getting old.

you'd help her find new hobbies to replace the ones she can't do anymore.

she really likes gardening, surprisingly enough. it's something physical she can do that isn't an explicit work out, and the smell of the dirt, the small new developments on her plants every day, the ritual of weeding and watering every morning, it's all very therapeutic for her.

when she starts coughing from her years and years of smoking, you demand that she quits, helping her overcome her cravings with lollipops and gum and nicotine patches and make out sessions when she's particularly insatiable.

sevika's definitely a cranky old woman. she's been a cranky old woman since the day she was born, but she's finally old enough for her body to match her personality. she's always scowling at kids and grumbling under her breath, wearing a glare while she's out in public. (but she's only soft smiles with you, you're her sweetheart, she can't keep the act up around you.)

she's definitely the type of old woman to just sit on the porch all day. in the evenings she'll drink, sometimes she'll read, but usually she just watches the world go by with you at her side, holding your hand between your matching rocking chairs.

just like you help her as she grows old, she helps you.

when your memories start getting fuzzy, she's patient and kind and always gently reminding you of your best moments together, relishing in the giant smile it brings out of you as her words bring back the moments with clarity.

when your arthritis starts getting bad, she'll massage your joints every three hours, making sure to keep you medicated and comfortable, helping you in and out of your compression socks and pressing kisses to your aching joints.

your libidos dip, but don't completely disappear. you guys make sundays your sex days, both of you taking arousal pills in the morning so you can spend the day going at it. (of course, with your aging hips, it's a little slower than it used to be. but it's just as intimate and special all the same)

this next one is gonna be sad in a bittersweet way so get ready.

when you both die, it's at the same time, on the same night, both of you peacefully asleep and wrapped in each other's arms. sevika used to tell you she'd go when you go, and you'd tell her the same. turns out, neither of you were joking.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

tell me we'll never get used to it

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader; Eddie Munson/You

Summary: Sequel to "i can't carry it for you, but i can carry you," but this one can technically be read as a standalone.

Set a few weeks after the finale, you and Eddie are finally healed enough from your ordeals to have sex. You both get a little stoned on California weed, and then Eddie confesses to you that not only is he a virgin, he's also self-conscious of the scars the demo-bats gave him. So you seek to reassure him, remind him how much you love him, with both your words and your body.

Rating: E(xplicit). Minors DNI

Warnings: smoking/shotgunning weed, smut, virgin!eddie munson, loss of virginity, oral sex (f/m receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, creampie, praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, riding, scars, self-confidence issues

A/N: I started this fic with the intention of making something quick and smutty, and then it turned into... this. And this fic stems from my deep seated belief that Eddie Munson deserves to get really high and have really tender loving sex, and since the Duffers are cowards, I did it myself. Also, as much as I love bad boy, sex-god Eddie, I just head cannon Eddie Munson as a virgin because come on, lol, he's a DnD nerd who plays in a "weird" band, sells drugs, and failed senior year twice. I love him with all my heart, but the boy has never gotten his dick wet lmao

(And, yes, I took the title from a Richard Siken poem, sue me)

Ao3 Link: Here

“‘Kay, kids, I think it’s time to pack it in,” Steve said as he stood up and clapped his hands.

“What?!” Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will protested in unison, snapping their heads up from where they were crowded around your long coffee table.

“We’ve barely even started,” Mike argued as his eyebrows furrowed sharply.

“Yeah, the sun hasn’t even set yet,” Dustin added, stabbing an accusatory finger at where the fading orange sunlight was filtering in through the living room window. “We’ve got like, at least thirty, thirty-five minutes before we need to leave.”

“But we’ve been playing for hours,” Robin groaned as she flopped over on the couch, into the space Steve had just vacated. “I’m bored.”

“You’re only bored because you died,” Dustin shot back. “By tripping off a cliff, I might add, which I’m still not sure how you did that…”

“And this is nothing,” Nancy scoffed from beside Robin. “Mike once ran a marathon forty-eight hour session in our basement, starting Friday and going all through the weekend. That room smelled disgusting by Sunday night.”

“Shut. Up. Nancy!” Mike was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and he turned and scowled at his sister over his shoulder. He was blushing, and when El giggled from where she was leaning against Mike’s opposite shoulder, he only blushed harder.

“Only telling the truth,” Nancy said as she raised her hands.

“I believe you,” Steve muttered and then ducked when Dustin threw a six-sided die at him. “Hey! That’s it! Party’s over. It’s past your bedtimes, so pack up all your little toys and dolls.”

“Hey, no need to disrespect the game, Harrington,” Eddie said from behind you.

He was sitting in the recliner your mom’s boyfriend bought only a few months ago, and he looked every inch like a king on his throne when you glanced up at him from where you were sitting— also cross-legged —between his feet. Since he’d been discharged from the hospital, he hadn’t let you leave his side, and he always had to be touching you, not that you were complaining. Right now, both of his legs were pressed against the outside of your arms, and one of his hands was idly playing with your hair.

“I have respect for the game,” Steve huffed with his hands on his hips, like a disgruntled mother. “But like Robin said, it’s been hours, and you know Agent Mustache gets pissed when we’re not back in our homes by sunset.”

All at once, the teasing atmosphere in your living room evaporated, and you watched as everyone’s smiles slowly faded.

It had been three weeks since everything went to shit. Three weeks since Hawkins was split in half by the Upside Down’s gates. In those three weeks, a lot had changed. For one, Hawkins felt like a ghost town now. Most people had either fled or been evacuated. But there were still a few hold outs: a couple of simply stubborn people who didn’t like being told what to do, a handful of others who just had nowhere else to go, and some old men and women who’d been born in Hawkins and planned to die there, too.

And, of course, the families of the kids in this room. El had needed to stay to deal with the gates, and Mike of course wasn’t leaving her, which meant neither were Dustin, Lucas, and Will. Steve, Nancy, and Robin felt like they needed to protect the kids, and you and Eddie had already given a pound of flesh to the cause, so what was a little more?

The government hadn’t been too happy with the number of liabilities left on their hands, but Mike pointed out that he and his friends had already broken into a secret lab and a Russian spy operation, so slipping back into Hawkins would have been child’s play. The government just gave up trying to make them leave after that.

Instead, they’d instated a curfew. A heavily enforced curfew. Soldiers armed with flamethrowers roamed the barren and broken streets of Hawkins at all times, but at night the patrols doubled, bright headlights sweeping the darkness for anything that moved.

Surprisingly, nothing had happened yet. In fact, it had been relatively quiet. The gates were still a ghostly specter that haunted the town, spewing forth ash and killing all plant life within a certain radius. But nothing else had come through the portals. No demo-dogs, or bats, no Demogorgons, nothing. El and Will said it felt like Vecna was biding his time, licking his wounds, preparing for his next big move, so everyone was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But there were only so many strategy meetings a group of teens could sit through, only so much prep and training they could do. Sometimes, everyone just needed a break, a few hours to not think about monsters, or the world ending, or the fact that Max still hadn’t woken up, no matter how hard El tried to reach her.

And that’s where Eddie Munson came in. Eddie, with his infectious smile and enthusiasm, his elaborate storytelling skills that ensnared his audience and made the real world just fall away. Everyone had become an honorary member of the Hellfire Club, even Steve “the Hair” Harrington. Not everyone was particularly good, but it was a fun way to pass the time, a nice reprieve from all the life-and-death situations this group somehow always found themselves in.

But now, reality had come calling once again.

“Ugh, way to kill the mood, Steve,” Dustin sighed, breaking the morose silence as he flopped back onto the carpeted floor.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the bad guy.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Blame me all you want, but we still gotta get going.”

The kids all grumbled as they started packing up, and as if on cue, Jonathan suddenly came stumbling in through the back door off the kitchen, coughing and watery-eyed. He’d excused himself about half an hour ago, and it wasn’t hard to tell what he’d been doing on your back porch.

“Hey, guys are we, uh, heading out soon?” he drawled. “Sun’s setting.”

He blinked slowly at everyone, and you saw Will roll his eyes, which made Mike, Lucas, and Dustin stifle snorts. Then Dustin got this mischievous look you knew too well, and he turned to Jonathan with a startled expression.

“What are you talking about, dude?” the kid asked. “We’ve been here all night, that’s the sunrise.”

Jonathan balked and snapped his head toward the window, which caused the whole room to break out in laughter. Blushing, the older Byers rubbed the back of his head, and Nancy smiled as she walked over, placed her hand on his arm, and murmured something to him in a reassuring cadence.

You didn’t know what was going on with Nancy and her so-called boyfriend, especially with the way Steve was staring at the pair of them, but you were a professional at minding your own damn business, so you turned away from them, craned your neck back, and looked up at Eddie behind you.

“That was a good session, Munson,” you said, smiling up at him as you leaned your temple against his knee.

“I know.” He smirked, but then he narrowed his eyes at you. “Wait, why do you sound surprised? All of my sessions are good sessions, Obi. You might be a Jedi Master, but I am the Dungeon Master.”

Even after all this time, that stupid nickname he gave you made butterflies erupt in your belly.

“Of course.” You nodded, making sure you face was very serious. “You are the Dungeon Master to end all Dungeon Masters. No one can hold a candle to your genius.”

“That’s more like it,” Eddie said with a pleased expression, and he wrapped a lock of your hair around his finger. His eyes were dark and deep as he stared down at you, but his touch was soft when his thumb brushed the side of your face.

You leaned into his hand with a sigh, but the moment was abruptly broken by Dustin making a gagging noise.

“Ugh, get a room you two,” he groaned.

You whipped your head around and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Um, this is my house, Henderson,” you reminded him. “And didn’t your babysitter say it was time to go, anyway?”

Dustin made an affronted noise, and you laughed as you stood up and stretched your back. But before you could move to help pick up some of the various snack bowls scattered around the living room floor, two hands suddenly snaked around your waist, tugging you backward.

“Munson!” you gasped as you fell into his lap, the chair rocking back from your added weight. You turned your head to chide him, but then Eddie seized your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your head.

Instantly, the living room, your friends, and the rest of the world faded around you. Eddie had this… magnetism about him or something. Every time he looked at you, touched you, especially kissed you, it was like nothing else existed except the two of you. Now wasn’t any different, and you sighed as you opened your mouth to his probing tongue.

But all too soon, he pulled away, and when your eyes fluttered open, he was smirking.

“Okay, yup, time to go,” you distantly heard Steve mutter, followed by a chorus of agreements.

“Heh, worked like a charm,” Eddie whispered in your ear, and you knew he was just joking around, but his warm breath brushing your skin made you shiver.

You didn’t want to completely embarrass yourself in front of your friends, though, so you shook your head to clear it, pushed yourself off Eddie’s lap, and walked everyone to the door. The sun was just starting to dip below the tree line, and you could see a government Jeep roll by the end of the street, but everyone lived pretty close, so they should able to beat curfew.

Nancy and Mike climbed into Nancy’s car to head back to the Wheelers’, and Steve was practically the designated carpool, so he was dropping off Robin, Lucas, and Dustin. Jonathan was taking Will and El back to the combined Hopper-Byers residence, and even though his eyes were still bloodshot, you knew Jonathan was a cautious driver and would get them all home.

Maybe just a little bit slower than everyone else.

You stood on your front porch and waved goodbye until the last car slipped out of sight, and you fought back a yawn as you dropped your arm. Then your eyes trailed to the reddish sky, searching the streaks of black clouds that perpetually hovered over the gates.

It felt so strange to be living a somewhat normal life with the apocalypse hanging over everyone’s neck, but what else were you supposed to do?

“Obiii-wannn.” Eddie’s singsongy voice pulled you from your thoughts, and his arms wrapped around your waist as he tugged you back against his chest. Then he pressed a kiss to your hair and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“All the shit rolling around up here would definitely cost more than a penny,” you snorted and leaned back into him.

“Ah, well, never mind then, cuz I’m broke.”

You laughed as you turned in the circle of his arms, and the lopsided grin you loved so much was beaming down at you. You rose up on your tiptoes to kiss him, but before your lips could meet, the sharp honk of a car horn blared behind you, making you jump.

Glancing over your shoulder, you saw one of the government Jeeps stopped in the middle of the street in front of your house, and the soldier in the passenger seat gave you a pointed look through the open window.

You blushed as you fell back on your heels, but Eddie just wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his side.

“Evenin’, gentlemen,” he called out as he put two fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute. “We were just heading inside. Keep up the good work!”

The soldiers seemed unimpressed with him, but Eddie just snickered as he turned and steered you back into the house.

“Tough crowd,” he said as you shut and locked the door behind you.

Since the town still needed power, and since he was used to the hours, Wayne had continued to work nightshifts— with ample guards, of course— so he wouldn’t be home until after dawn, and he had a copy of the key to let himself in.

“I don’t know why you have to antagonize them,” you sighed, referring to the soldiers, as you turned to your boyfriend.

“Because it’s funnnn.” Eddie grinned, and he reached out to pull you against him again. “And I’ll take all the fun I can get these days.”

You didn’t blame him for that.

Still, you playfully rolled your eyes as you pulled away. Eddie made a whining noise in the back of his throat and grabbed after you, but you batted his hands back.

“Help me pick up first,” you chuckled. “Then you can Velcro yourself to me while I warm up dinner.”

“Nooo, let’s just pick up everything later,” Eddie said with a cajoling grin.

“And let Wayne trip over all this shit in the morning when we inevitably forget and fall asleep?” You raised an eyebrow and gestured to the living room floor, which was still strewn with snacks and the various odds and ends that came with every DnD session.

“Fine,” Eddie pouted, but then he got a mischievous glint in his brown gaze. “That just means you’ll have to wait longer for my surprise.”

You couldn’t help it. Your curiosity was piqued.

“What surprise?” you asked as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“That’s not how surprises work, Obi.” He smirked and wagged a finger at you, spinning on heel. “You’ll just have to wait and see now. Cleaning up comes first after all. It’s so very important.”

You knew that when Eddie got like this, he would tease you to the point of torture. He would pick up one paper, one stray chip at a time just to drag it out until you eventually broke and gave in to his demands.

“I am a hostage living in my own home,” you muttered, bending down to pick up an empty bowl covered in Dorito-dust fingerprints.

“How’s that Stockholm Syndrome treating you, baby?” Eddie asked with a wink, and you turned away from him so he couldn’t see your stupid, dopey smile.

God, you loved him. Even when he was being annoying.

Thankfully, he didn’t seem in the mood to torture you too much tonight, because he helped you pick up relatively quickly. He did distract you several times by brushing up against you on his way to the kitchen, and then twice just to full on kiss you, but eventually the living room floor was no longer a death trap. You’d mostly just stacked the mess in different places— empty bowls on the kitchen counter, and DnD supplies on a living room end table— but at least it wasn’t underfoot anymore.

And it wasn’t like your mom or her boyfriend were here to bitch at you, anyway.

“Alright, Munson,” you said, and you turned to him and placed your hands on your hips. “What’s this surprise?”

“Aw, I think you can ask a little nicer than that, sweetheart,” Eddie teased as he faced you in the middle of your living room. His dark-brown eyes were dancing with a playful delight, and he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his lips, like he was trying to hide his shit-eating grin.

He wasn’t successful.

But two could play this game.

You dropped your arms from your hips and slowly sauntered up to him, closing the distance in three strides. Some of the cockiness went out of his gaze the closer you got, and once you came to a stop in front of him, you slowly wound your arms around his neck, pressing your chest into his. Then you rose up on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against the shell of his ear.

“Pretty please?” you breathed, punctuating the question with a flick of your tongue against his earlobe.

Eddie groaned deep in his chest, and you knew you’d won.

Smirking, you dropped back onto your heels, but Eddie latched his hands onto your hips to keep you from pulling away. When he looked down at you, his eyes were narrowed, and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

“You are evil,” he deadpanned. “Evil Obi. You might have all the others fooled, but I can see the horns holding up your halo.”

You grinned, stuck your tongue out, and lifted your hands up to your head in the symbol for horns, copying a face Eddie had made many times.

It worked like a charm, because the fake-hardness to his expression melted, and he bent down to slant his mouth over yours.

“Is this my surprise?” you giggled against his lips. “Not that I’m complaining, but it isn’t exactly a surprise when you kiss me every five minutes.”

“Five minutes?” Eddie gasped, pulling away from you with wide eyes. “Shit, I’m way off schedule. No way am I gonna make my daily quota now.”

You giggled again and playfully shoved his shoulder. “I’m serious. You have me dying with curiosity now. What’s the surprise?”

“Well, we definitely can’t have you dying,” Eddie said with a smirk, and one of his hands left your hip to dig around the back pocket of his jeans. After a moment of rummaging, he withdrew his hand with a flourish and dangled something in between your faces. “Ta-da!”

You blinked and leaned back a little to bring the object into focus, but the smell hit you before your brain processed what was in the small plastic baggie.

“No way,” you murmured, reaching up for the bag of weed. “Where the hell did you get this?”

The two of you hadn’t smoked anything besides cigarettes in weeks. Eddie had suggested maybe going back out to Rick’s to see if the drug dealer had anything stashed since Rick himself was still in jail, but Lover’s Lake was a hot zone with Watergate being in the center of it, so neither you nor Eddie wanted to take the risk for a little grass.

“I have my ways,” Eddie said as he tugged the bag out of your reach. “A good man never reveals his sources, like a magician never reveals his tricks.”

You raised an eyebrow at him and crossed your arms over your chest, and he caved in less than thirty seconds.

“Alright, twist my arm, damn,” he grumbled. “IIIII might have told Byers— the older one— that my pain levels have been… higher than they actually are, and he was a good enough friend to give me some primo pain management all the way from California.”

“Munson!” you gasped, your tone half scandalized, half amused. “You conned Jonathan out of what is probably the last of his Cali stash?”

“It was for a good cause!”

“And what cause is that?” you asked as you tried to keep from laughing, but it was hard when Eddie was standing there pouting like an innocent puppy while holding a bag of illicit substances.

“Becauseeeee… I wanted to get high with you?” Eddie replied with a sheepish smile. “And I think I deserve it after being such a brave hero, don’t you?”

“You’re really going to milk that forever, aren’t you?” you deadpanned, but secretly you were happy that he saw himself as you did, even if just a little, even if he tried to make it a joke.

“Forever and ever, baby.” He grinned before shaking the bag at you. “So, what do you say, Obi? Do you want to enjoy your surprise, or do you want to be a goody two shoes and give Byers back his weed?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look conflicted, but really, there was no question.

“Fine.” You snatched the bag out of his hand while his grin widened. “But I’m rolling. You always make them too fat.”

“No such thing,” Eddie snickered, but he dutifully followed you back to your bedroom.

You went over to your desk while Eddie sauntered over to the bed. Before your mother left, you always kept your papers and lighters hidden deep in a junk drawer, or even in the floorboards after David moved in and started giving you shit when you came home from Eddie’s smelling particularly skunky. But now she and David were gone, and Wayne honestly didn’t give a shit. He even sometimes smoked a bit himself to deal with the pain that came from working in a powerplant for thirty odd years. So, your tray was just sitting in the corner of your desk, and you pulled it towards you as you flicked on the lamp in the opposite corner.

Behind you, Eddie had grabbed his guitar from the side of the bed and was idly strumming out the riff of a Motorhead song. Gareth had given him a small amp after the Munson trailer was destroyed, but Eddie was always respectful and kept the volume at a tolerable level, unless you asked him to crank it up. It might be strange to some, but you found the heavy rock chords soothing, and you hummed along absently as you picked up your grinder.

“Obiiiii,” Eddie sing-songed from the bed behind you, and he suddenly paused his strumming.

“I haven’t even started yet, Munson,” you said without looking back at him. “Patience.”

“But why are you allllll the way over there?” he asked, and you could just imagine the pout on his face. “Just come roll it on the bed.”

“You know that never ends well,” you snorted, shooting a look at him over your shoulder. And yup, he was pouting. “We always end up spilling it, and I am not picking crumbs out of my carpet and wasting what little we have.”

“We don’t always spill it,” Eddie argued, but when you just cocked an eyebrow at him, he huffed. “Okay, maybe, like, eighty percent of the time.”

“So basically always.” You shook your head and faced forward again, opening the bag of weed and trying not to greedily inhale like a crazy person. God, you’d missed smoking. Your anxiety had been through the roof this past week as everyone waited for the other shoe to drop. You just wanted one night to not think about it. “Just give me five minutes, and I’ll come join you.”

“That’s soooo long, though,” Eddie groaned from behind you. “I don’t know if I’ll make it that long.”

You glanced at him again to see he’d sprawled back dramatically on your pillows, his guitar laying across his chest. He was staring at you with those puppy dog eyes again, but your gaze got sidetracked by the sliver of pale skin just visible between the hem of his black hoodie and the tops of his black and torn jeans— both hand-me-downs from Jonathan, though Eddie was a bit taller. Heat bloomed to life in the pit of your gut, but it was quickly extinguished when you saw the edge of a pink and still-healing scar.

That night, filled with blood and the shrieking of bats, suddenly filled your mind, and now you wanted to be close to him, too, to feel him pressed against you, warm skin and beating heart.

You didn’t say anything as you turned back to the desk, quickly gathered your tray and supplies, and stood from your chair. You crossed the room in two strides, but instead of sitting on the bed itself, you sat on the floor between the wall and the side of the bed. Pressing back against the mattress with Eddie’s legs dangling to the left of you, you stretched out your own legs and set the tray of supplies between your thighs.

“Wait, are you telling me that worked?” Eddie laughed from the bed above you.

“Hush, I’m working,” you muttered, but you leaned your shoulder into the side of his leg to quell the latent panic still haunting the corners of your brain.

He was fine. He was sitting right here beside you, alive, and the two of you were going to get high, so all was right with the world.

You repeated these things to yourself as you slowly ground up some of Jonathan’s weed, but almost like he could hear your thoughts, Eddie suddenly swung himself upright. Then he slid down to sit beside you on the floor, leaving his guitar against your pillows. His legs were longer than yours, so when he stretched them out, his toes brushed the edge of the wall in front of you.

“That’s better,” Eddie sighed as he leaned against you, settling his right hand on top of your thigh.

It was still strange to see his fingers bare, but the ring he previously wore on that hand was now perched on your middle finger, the black stone clicking off the grinder as you turned it. He’d given it to you a few days after he got out of the hospital, at first just lying on your couch with his head in your lap and playfully stacking his rings on your fingers. Most of them were too big, but the gemstone one fit, and he’d grinned so wide when he told you to keep it that you couldn’t deny him.

After a moment, Eddie started idly tugging at the dangling strings of your jean cutoffs, and his touch distracted you enough that you almost dropped the grinder and spilled everything.

“Munson.” You shot him a quick glare, and he grinned, stilling his hand but not taking it away.

“Sorry, princess,” he said. “I’ll be good.”

“I highly doubt that,” you muttered as you carefully opened the grinder, set it on the tray, and reached for the rolling papers.

“I take offense, dear Obi,” Eddie gasped, and his hand squeezed around the meat of your thigh, his thumb slipping under the hem of your shorts.

Your breathing stuttered as the papers crinkled in your hands, and you shot the dark-haired bastard another heated look.

Eddie glanced down at his hand like it wasn’t his, and then he moved it further down toward your knee and shot you another disarming smile.

“Okay, now, I’ll be good,” he said.

You shook your head but didn’t respond this time, instead focusing on the task at hand. Very slowly and very carefully, you bent one of the rolling papers into a shallow trench and then tapped some of the ground-up weed out of the grinder and into the paper. By some miracle, you didn’t spill any, and you set down the grinder and capped it before you started rolling the actual joint. Once you were satisfied by the overall size and shape, you brought the joint up to your mouth and licked the edge, your fingers nimbly rolling the paper into a cylinder and twisting off the ends.

“Ta-da.” You smirked and flourished the joint as you looked up at Eddie, but your smugness evaporated in an instant.

Eddie was staring at you with such an intent expression that you felt naked. His pupils were dilated, turning his already dark eyes into pools of black that glimmered with something you couldn’t name, and his gaze was locked onto your lips. You also realized his hand had tightened around your thigh again, and your skin broke out into goosebumps.

“Um…” Your voice cracked, your mouth suddenly dry, and you snaked your tongue out to wet your lips, Eddie tracking the movement like a predator tracks its prey. “Munson?”

His named seemed to snap him out of hit, and his eyes flicked up to yours.

“What?” he asked. His voice was raspy, rough, like he’d swallowed nails and gravel.

“I, uh…” You fought to regain your composure and suddenly remembered the joint in your hand. “I finished. And I w-will say, it looks pretty perfect. Definitely not too fat.”

Eddie stared at you for a long moment before his gaze finally drifted to the joint between your fingers, and now that his eyes weren’t boring into yours anymore, you felt like you could breathe.

“Hmm, I’ll be the judge of that, Obi,” he said as he plucked the joint from your hand, his voice back to its usual teasing cadence. He narrowed his eyes at the joint, inspecting it from every angle at great detail and making exaggerated faces. After a few moments, he clicked his tongue and looked back at you, and the hint of a smirk was tugging at his lips. “Well, I don’t know about perfect, but it’s pretty good. A solid eight out of ten.”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed, playing along. “And where did I lose two points?”

“The ends are messy,” he said with all seriousness. “And since there are two ends, you lose two points.”

“Fine, then give it back.” You reached out for the joint. “I’ll smoke it all by myself, messy ends and all.”

“Well, now, let’s not be too hasty,” Eddie laughed, leaning back and extending his arm out of your reach. Then he pressed the fingers of his opposite hand to his ear and nodded like someone else was talking to him. “Wait, what’s that? I’m hearing from the other judges that your score has been reconsidered! Perfect ten out of ten.”

“That’s what I thought.” You smirked and sat back against the mattress, picking up the lighter from your tray and tossing it into his lap. “And because I’m so nice, I’ll even let you light it up.”

“Your charity knows no bounds, Obi.” Eddie stuck the end of the joint between his lips and grinned as he picked up the lighter. “One of the things I love most about you.”

His tone and expression were joking, but there was a genuine earnestness to his eyes that made your cheeks flush.

But then he was striking the lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of the joint, and inhaling. You watched his cheeks hollow, the tendons in his neck standing out in stark relief, and the sight made the heat in your face travel down to the rest of your body.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“Shit,” Eddie exhaled a few seconds later, smoke curling from his lips and rising to the ceiling. The acrid smell hit you like a wave, and already you felt your body relaxing.

No, you needed this.

“Don’t hog it, Munson,” you muttered, nudging your elbow into his arm. “Sharing is caring.”

“And you said I needed patience,” he teased but handed the joint over.

The second it was at your lips, you inhaled slowly, holding the breath deep in your lungs until spots of color began to dance in the corners of your vision. Then you exhaled all at once, a sharp release, and your ears rang slightly as you started to cough.

“Fuckkkk.” You dropped your head back against the edge of the bed. Tears blurred your view of the ceiling, but then you blinked, and drops of warm water trailed down your cheeks.

“I know, right?” Eddie snickered, taking the joint back from you. “This shit’s way better that what I got from Rick. I didn’t know Byers was such a connoisseur.”

“Connoisseur,” you echoed and then giggled. Your head already felt a little swimmy, but that might be from the coughing and lack of oxygen. “That’s a funny word.”

“Blame the French, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckled before he took another drag.

The two of you passed the joint for a few rounds, and you felt like you could melt into the carpet. Every knot in every muscle you had unwound bit by bit, and the horrors of the Upside Down and the impending future faded until they were nothing but a distant memory.

“Hey, Obi,” Eddie murmured what felt like minutes and hours later. “Pssst, Obi.”

“Hmmm?” you hummed, lolling your head to the side to look at him.

His face was less than a foot away, so close you could count every pore and laugh line, and his brown eyes were hooded and glassy as they skipped over your face. He was holding the still-smoking joint between his middle and index finger, like he would hold a cigarette, but when he caught your gaze, he shifted his grip so he was holding it more firmly between his index finger and thumb.

“Can I try something?” he asked, and there was a glint in his gaze that you knew you should be worried about, but you felt too relaxed to worry about anything right now. “There’s this thing I’ve always wanted to try…”

“Sure,” you mumbled, and Eddie grinned before he brought the joint to his mouth and inhaled again, the cherry on the end flaring orange.

Then he held the joint out of the way and leaned forward, and dull surprise sparked through your veins when his lips met yours.

You opened up to him instinctively, inhaling sharply just from his proximity, and Eddie seized the opportunity to shotgun the hit he’d taken into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed as his tongue chased the smoke past your teeth, and he flicked the point of it against the roof of your mouth before he pulled away.

You held your breath for as long as you could before exhaling, and when you opened your eyes again, Eddie’s gaze was locked on your face. His eyes were black once more, his head backlit by the lamp on the bedside table behind him, and you suddenly realized what that something in his gaze had been when he’d watched you roll the joint. Because it was there again.

Lust.

Your stomach immediately bottomed out inside of you as every hair on your body stood on end.

It had been three weeks since Eddie woke up in the hospital, three weeks since the two of you confessed your feelings to each other, since he moved into your house. He even slept beside you in your bed every night. Not at first, of course. For the first two nights, he just “slept” on your living room couch while Wayne took the master bedroom. But by the third morning, you couldn’t ignore the dark bags under Eddie’s eyes any longer and so confronted him. He had eventually confessed that he hadn’t been sleeping much. Kept being woken up by nightmares and then panicking that something was in the house and running to check on you in your bedroom. You had laughed a little, then, to his confusion, and told him you’d been checking up on him, too, the pair of you seemingly missing each other like ships in the night. Hell, for all you knew, you were the ones waking each other up.

After that, Eddie moved into your bedroom for both your peace of minds, but like a gentleman, he tried to take the floor. He piled it with sheets and blankets and pillows, assuring you it was fine, but that lasted all of five minutes after the lights were dimmed.

(You never turned them out completely at night, both you and Eddie too uneasy in the dark.)

Emboldened by the shadows hiding your furious blush, you were the one who broke and asked him to just come lie in the bed with you, and after only a few beats, Eddie had slowly and quietly climbed up onto the mattress. He’d been stiff, stretched out beside you on his back, and in an effort to help him relax, you’d rolled on your side to face him, tentatively placing your hand on his chest to show him it was okay. He’d immediately subsided into the sheets, sighing, and turned his head to brush a kiss against your brow. And the two of you slept that night with no nightmares, for either of you.

Since then, you’d slept every night in the same bed as him, and more and more lately, you woke up with him wrapped around you, his front to your back, holding you tightly against his body.

But it had never been sexual. (Well, you had woken up a few times with his morning wood pressed against your back, but that didn’t count, that was just an…unconscious physiological response, and you always pretended to be asleep until he rolled out of bed to go to the bathroom.)

Either way, nothing had happened between you two except for a few heavy makeout sessions, and those never happened in your bedroom. The living room, the kitchen, the hallway, but never the bedroom. And whenever things got too heated, Eddie was always the first to pull away, to press one last kiss to your brow and step back, changing the subject to something innocuous.

You knew it had been because the two of you were so injured at first. You’d only ditched the sling a few days ago, and your arm was still sore, needing to be exercised every morning and night. Eddie had also recently received the all-clear from the doctors, and you wondered if he’d just been waiting to make sure neither of you got hurt.

The look in his eyes was definitely not hesitant now, and you felt your core throb in response.

A thousand thoughts tumbled through your brain like rocks in a dryer, a very slow dryer, because everything felt slow and languid around you, like it always did when you got high. Your skin was lightly buzzing, but your tongue was heavy in your mouth, and Eddie’s hungry gaze continued to pin you to the spot like a butterfly pinned beneath glass.

“Do you…” The words fell from your mouth unbidden, slow like molasses, but nervousness suddenly traced its hand down your spine, making you shiver.

“Do I… what?” Eddie murmured after a moment of silence. His voice was lower than usual, made rougher by the smoke, and you suddenly remembered the joint in his hand.

For courage, you leaned forward and plucked the remnants of the joint from between his fingers. There was maybe one good hit left, so you took it, the embers burning your fingertips as the smoke swirled into your mouth before you held it there. Then, as Eddie’s black eyes swallowed you whole, you bridged the distance between your lips and his. He opened dutifully beneath you, inhaling as you exhaled, and one of his hands came up and cradled your jaw, long fingers framing your face.

Once your lungs were emptied, you pulled back a fraction, and since you were feeling a little more brave, you trapped his lower lip between your teeth and tugged. You let him go just as quickly, but Eddie’s fingers had burrowed into your hair now, holding you in place.

Your eyes fluttered open— when had you closed them?— and you could see a tiny version of yourself reflected in Eddie’s wide pupils. Then he exhaled sharply, a curtain of smoke rising between your faces, and you were just about to pull further back when he lunged forward and smashed his mouth against yours.

His sudden ferocity startled a gasp out of you, and Eddie cupped your face more soundly as he leaned forward, his tongue delving past your lips and pulling up a moan from deep within your chest.

You had just enough sense left to drop the ashes of the joint on your tray before you were tangling both hands in Eddie’s hair and kissing him back with equal intensity. The rings on his left hand felt cold against your temple, your cheek, but everywhere else you felt hot, so hot. His mouth was like a furnace, a fiery brand, tasting of ash and smoke.

You were both gasping for breath every time your lips parted, but then one of you would dive back in for more, teeth and tongues clashing. When his left hand trailed from your cheek down to your neck, you thought you were going to combust, and then his other hand tiptoed up your thigh, and you knew you were going to burst into flame.

The apex of your thighs throbbed again when his fingers brushed the hem of your shorts, and you whimpered before you ripped your mouth away, gasping for breath and dropping your hands from his hair.

“Come back here,” Eddie muttered as he chased after you, but then he suddenly hissed and froze.

The pained note in his voice abruptly cleared some of the fog from your mind, and you blinked as your gaze zeroed in on him.

“Are—” God, your voice sounded wrecked. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie nodded, but his eyes were tightly closed as he faced forward and leaned back against the bed again. “Just… twisted a little too far.”

His right hand ghosted over his side, and you chewed on your swollen lower lip.

“Sorry,” you murmured, guilt stabbing through you. He was still healing, and here you were being a horny mess.

Eddie opened the eye closest to you, and then, when he saw your expression, he opened the other and turned his head to face you.

“Nothing you should be apologizing for, princess,” he said, and his smile turned a little sheepish before he continued. “That was… so fuckin’ hot.”

His voice took on that gravelly quality again, and you could feel slickness pool in your panties.

“Yeah,” you breathed, the filter between your mind and mouth nonexistent, shrouded by smoke and the buzzing feeling in your veins. “It was.”

Hunger flashed in Eddie’s gaze again, and he reached his arm out to you.

“Come here,” he muttered, flexing his fingers in a grabby motion.

“I’m sitting right next to you,” you said, but you didn’t fight it when his fingers gently latched onto your wrist.

“Not close enough.” Eddie pouted at you, tugging your arm.

You were half turned anyway, so you kneeled and shifted to fully face him, shuffling forward until your knees were pressed to the outside of his thigh.

“Closerrrrr,” he hummed and tugged at you again.

You realized he wanted you to straddle his lap, and a wave of heat washed over you from head to toe.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you again,” you tried to argue.

“You didn’t hurt me in the first place, Obi,” he said with a lopsided smile, the one that always tore down all of your defenses. “I just turned in a weird way. Buttttt, if you’re sitting right in front of me…”

He yanked at your arm a third time, and to keep from falling over, you clumsily slung a leg over his lap. Once you regained your balance, you hovered over him with your knees digging into the carpet on either side of his thighs, and he grinned up at you.

“Now I don’t have to turn at all,” Eddie finished, sounding proud of himself, but it was hard to be angry at him when his hands were settling on your hips, thumbs rubbing at the jut of your hip bones through your shorts.

“That’s… good,” you said. The slow-firing synapses in your brain were unable to come up with anything else.

“Doing okay there, sweetheart?” he asked as he smiled up at you. His thumbs were still stroking your hips, slowly driving you insane.

Your mouth was so dry, but you swallowed as best you could and nodded.

“Yeah,” you murmured, but then you wobbled on your knees and had to put your hands on his shoulders for balance.

“You sure?” Eddie chuckled before he tugged on your hips. “Why don’t you sit back a bit, Ms. Weeble-Wobble.”

You slowly sat back on his thighs, careful to not crush his legs, and Eddie smiled when you were at eye level.

“Hi,” he said, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Hi,” you giggled back, and then giggled again as you settled more comfortably on his thighs. “Shit, this stuff is good. I feel like I could float away.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely moving to California,” Eddie snickered and squeezed his hands over your hips. “And don’t worry. I’ll keep you anchored, princess.”

“You always do,” you sighed, and something flashed in the dark depths of his bloodshot eyes, but it was gone just as fast, fleeting and mercurial.

“What were you going to ask me before?”

“Huh?” You blinked to focus on his face a little better, and Eddie was staring at you intently.

“You started to ask me something before you took that last hit,” he clarified. “You said, ‘Do you…?’”

You frowned as you tried to remember, wading through smoke and the memories of his mouth hot against yours. Then you suddenly recalled why you’d taken that last hit in the first place, and your face burned with embarrassment.

“I don’t remember… it was nothing,” you said, squirming in his lap and then stopping when the movement pressed the seam of your shorts into your clit.

Fuck, when did you get so wet?

“Well, that’s not contradictory,” Eddie teased. “Which is it, Obi? You don’t remember, or it was nothing?”

“It was stupid,” you amended and refused to meet his eyes, staring instead at a spot on the bed above his shoulder.

“I highly doubt that,” he scoffed, but when you stayed silent, he reached out, gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger, and turned you to face him. He was still smiling gently, but his eyes were serious. “Nothing you say or do could ever be stupid.”

The sincerity in his face and voice made you blush even deeper, and you wished he would just drop it, but Eddie Munson was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he stared at you patiently as he waited for you to respond.

“Fine, it’s… embarrassing,” you huffed, and you shifted your hands on his shoulders so you could fiddle with his curls.

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Eddie smirked and turned to playfully nip at your fingers. “Come on, tell me.”

You stubbornly shook your head, pressing your lips together, and Eddie narrowed his eyes. After a moment, a familiar glimmer of mischief flashed across his face, and one of his hands abandoned your hips to cup your cheek.

Then he leaned forward until his lips were just a hair’s breadth away from yours, but he paused before kissing you.

“Not even if I say pretty please?” he whispered as he tossed your earlier words back at you, warm breath fanning across your lips.

His proximity, the warmth of his hands on your cheek and hip, and the high still buzzing through your body, it all overwhelmed your senses, short circuited your brain, and your mouth opened of its own accord.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” you blurted out.

Your words echoed in the deafening silence that followed, and Eddie’s eyes widened in surprise, his teasing expression going slack.

You were so embarrassed, you were sure your blood was going to start boiling.

“W-Wait, no, that’s not what I— that was stupid, oh my god, forget I said that… like that,” you rambled. Your tongue felt clumsy and alien in your mouth, and at this point you wanted to bite it off. Instead, you slammed your eyes closed and tried to pull away. “Never mind, I’ll just—”

“Woah, hey, now,” Eddie said, clamping his hands around your waist and keeping you seated on his thighs. “Where’s the fire? Come on, Obi, it’s okay. We all say things we don’t mean when we’re high.”

You peeked open your eyes to see him smiling at you reassuringly, and he was just so beautiful, so kind, that you couldn’t stop yourself from digging your hole even deeper.

“I… did mean it,” you murmured, and again your words seemed to surprise Eddie, his fingers flexing around your waist. You thought you saw his pupils dilate even further, and that gave you the courage to go on. “I-I mean, I know I’m high, but tonight isn’t the first time I’ve… thought about this. It was bad enough when we were just friends and I thought I didn’t have a shot with you, but ever since that first time you kissed me in the hospital, I’ve been… And I know we’ve both been healing, and the world is set to end at any moment, but I just… I want you, Eddie.”

You were panting for breath by the end of your little spiel, and you bit your lip as you searched his face for a reaction. You hadn’t been very eloquent, but you hoped he understood what you were trying to say.

Eddie’s pupils were definitely blown now, swallowing his irises into inky pools that contrasted with his reddened sclera. He exhaled shakily and licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his throat clicked with a swallow, and you thought you could feel his fingers tremble where they were still resting on your waist.

“Are—” Eddie started, stopped, cleared his throat. Then his gaze met yours, and you were surprised to see the uncertainty there. “Are you sure, Obi? B-Because I don’t want you to feel like you have to. I’m perfectly fine with taking things slow, just kissing you— god, just kissing you is already enough to drive me fucking insane. So we don’t have to rush. I don’t… I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I don’t want to hurt you. Never want to hurt you.”

That last sentence was murmured softly, Eddie’s face twisting, and your heart twisted along with it. This man. This ridiculous, noble, gentle, kind man. You loved him with your entire being.

“You could never hurt me, Eddie Munson,” you said, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. The kiss was soft, barely there, and you didn’t seek to deepen it. Instead, you pulled back and moved one of your hands to his cheek, stubble scraping across your palm as your pressed your forehead to his and stared into his eyes. “And if you want to wait, that’s okay with me. Because I agree, kissing you is pretty awesome.”

Eddie cracked a smile, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

“But,” you continued, your voice dropping low, and Eddie fingers tightened around your waist in response. “Just so you know, I could never regret anything I do with you. How could I regret something I’ve been dreaming about for almost an entire year?”

Eddie sucked in a breath and held it, and under your palm, you felt the muscles of his jaw flex as he ground his teeth together. He studied your face for a long, endless moment before he suddenly jerked his hips up. His belt buckle just barely brushed your clit through your shorts, but it was enough to tear a gasp from you, pleasure zapping through every nerve in your body, and Eddie snapped.

One of his hands left your waist to grab the back of your head, and then he was tugging you forward, crashing your mouth against his.

“Fuck, okay, yes, god, yes,” he gasped between kisses, and his hands were everywhere, in your hair, dragging down your spine, grabbing your ass to pull you against him.

“I… take it… you don’t want to… wait?” you couldn’t help but tease in the brief moments he released your lips.

“You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming of this, sweetheart,” he muttered as his mouth left yours, trailing across your jaw and down your neck. He pressed a kiss over your pulse point, and your breathing stuttered.

“Then maybe we should turn those dreams… into reality?” you suggested and tilted your head back to give him more access. The fact that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him made you bold, and you ground down into his lap to further emphasize your point.

“Shit,” Eddie hissed, and then his mouth was on yours again, hungry and insistent. His tongue traced over every one of your teeth before he pulled back and nipped at your lip, his voice coming out in a desperate gasp. “J-Just tell me what to do, Obi. Fuck, I’ll do anything, anything you want, just tell me.”

It could have just been dirty talk, but you thought you detected a strange note of uncertainty to his words, and the fire building in your gut cooled a degree as you pulled back and looked into Eddie’s face. His eyes were glassy and full of lust, but you saw insecurity there, too, and a question jumped to the forefront of your mind and off your tongue before you could stop it.

“Have you… done this before?” you asked.

Eddie winced slightly, more of that insecurity blooming on his face, and you felt him start to fiddle with his rings against your right hip.

“Well, um, technically, no, b-but I know the general gist. Talk floats around the boy’s locker room, ya know, and all those magazines under my bed certainly painted a picture— shit, fuck, forget I said that. What I’m trying to say is all of my knowledge is, uh, theoretical, not practical. Not a lot of girls lining up to sleep with the trailer trash freak who sells drugs and worships Satan and… wow, I’m really selling myself here, huh? So sexy. Shit.”

Groaning, Eddie clenched his eyes shut and dropped his head back, but you chased after him, rising up on your knees a little to lean into his chest.

“Hey,” you muttered, and when he wouldn’t look at you, you reached out with both hands to cup his face. “Hey, Munson.”

Reluctantly, he tilted his head up and opened his eyes, and you smiled.

“Hi there,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose like he had done to you earlier.

“Hi,” he grumbled back, but he let you brush his bangs out of his face and met your gaze.

“For the record,” you said as you ran your thumbs over his stubbled cheeks, and you couldn’t help but dip down and press a quick kiss to his parted lips. “I still think you’re very sexy.”

“Uh-huh,” Eddie muttered, sounding unconvinced.

“I’m serious.” You met his eyes again before your own started to trail over the features of his face. “Sexy. Handsome. Pretty. Beautiful. I think of at least one of these words every time I look at you. Your eyes always make me feel like my lungs forgot how to work, and every time you smile, especially if it’s directed at me, the world stops for just an instant. And don’t even get me started on the tattoos and jewelry. Chicks dig that stuff, you know?”

You ended on a partial joke because Eddie had started to squirm under your praise, but then he looked up at you, shifted one of your hands off his cheek, and pressed a kiss to your palm. He looked less uncomfortable now, less insecure, but his smile was still tentative.

“So… I haven’t ruined my chances, then?” he asked, and seeing the lust spark back to life in his eyes made you clench your thighs together.

“Definitely not,” you muttered as you hovered over him, your lips slowly descending toward his again.

��And you’re sure it doesn’t… bother you? That I haven’t… you know?”

“Not at all,” you breathed. You were less than a centimeter away from kissing him, but a sudden thought popped into your head, and you felt it only fair to voice it. “Does it bother you that I have?”

“No.” Eddie’s response was instantaneous, full of sincerity, and you couldn’t wait any longer. You dove down and slanted your mouth over his, and Eddie groaned against you, his fingers digging into your waist. All of his hesitation was gone now, and his hands burned a path down your back to cup your ass. You whimpered into the kiss, and your noise seemed to spur him on, because the next thing you knew, he was shifting his feet behind you and pushing upright.

“Eddie!” you gasped as you tore your mouth from his. “Be careful!”

“I got you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” he chuckled once he was fully on his feet, his hands tucked under your thighs that were wrapped around his waist.

“I’m more worried about you hurting yourself.” You frowned. You weren’t exactly thin, not like Nancy and Robin. “Put me down.”

“As the lady requests.” Eddie smirked and then turned, throwing you down on the bed beside his guitar, which he immediately moved out of the way and onto the floor. He was grinning when he looked back at you, but he seemed to freeze at the sight of you sprawled across the mattress.

You were wearing jean cutoffs, his old Metallica shirt that Dustin saved from the trailer, and a worn red flannel on top. It was a casual outfit, not even especially cute, but Eddie was staring down at you like you were wearing the sexiest set of lingerie.

“Fuck, Obi,” he breathed as his eyes pinned you to the mattress, and you squirmed under his scrutiny.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare at me, Munson?” you asked, cheeks flushing.

“Hell no,” he said, and then he was climbing onto the bed, hovering over you on his forearms and claiming your lips once again. He wore a new guitar pick necklace, the pick having fallen out of his copy of The Hobbit the other night. At some point, he’d apparently forgotten he was using it as a bookmark, but now it was hanging on a loose silver chain, brushing your jaw and neck as it dangled from his throat.

The two of you made out for a minute, but then Eddie started pressing kisses down your neck. When he reached your collarbones, he paused to dip his tongue into the hollow between them, and you moaned as you arched your back. The weed high was still making everything feel tingly and cranked up to eleven, and you could already feel that your panties were sticking to you beneath your shorts.

“Eddie, please,” you gasped as you buried a hand into his mane of curls.

“What do you want, Obi?” he muttered against the base of your throat, licking the skin there again.

“You.” Squirming, you arched up into him again, brain fuzzy with pleasure. “I-I want you. Want you to touch me.”

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie groaned before he lifted his head to seize your lips in another kiss. “Where? Where do you want me to touch you?”

“Everywhere,” you whined, reaching for the hem of your own shirt. It suddenly felt stifling in your bedroom, and you could feel sweat bead along your brow.

Eddie let out a litany of curses, but he helped to slip the shirt off over your head, and then you reached behind yourself and undid the clasp of your bra with a flick, too impatient to wait.

As you tossed the bra away and fell back onto the bed again, you saw that Eddie’s wide eyes were glued to your breasts, and his mouth hung open like the hinge of his jaw had broken.

“Oh, f-fuck, you’re so gorgeous, Obi, god, I want to put my mouth on them.” His dark gaze flicked to yours, begging. “Can I? Please?”

You wanted to tease him, but the earnest way he asked your permission made your pussy clench around nothing, and all you could do was nod your head.

Eddie wasted no time, diving down and immediately dragging his tongue over one of your nipples. The shock of his wet, hot mouth made you gasp, then whine as he closed his lips around you and sucked.

“O-Oh, shit,” you moaned when he reached up and tweaked your other nipple with his nimble fingers.

“Feel good?” he mumbled, words muffled by your flesh.

“So good,” you breathed and then cried out when he ran his teeth across your nipple. “F-Fuck! Don’t stop, don’t…”

You trailed off into another moan as Eddie flicked the nipple he wasn’t sucking on, the nub pebbling between his fingers.

“Goddamn, you make the prettiest noises, princess,” the metalhead muttered between your breasts, switching from one to the other. “Better than I ever dreamed of. And I’ve dreamed about sucking your titties a lot.”

The vulgar confession made more slick pool in your panties, and you whimpered as you reached an arm down, wiggling it between the two of you until you found the button of your jeans. But you couldn’t open it from this angle, and you groaned in frustration.

“Please, Eddie,” you begged, using your other hand to tug at his hair until he released your nipple with a slick ‘pop.’

“What?” he asked as he looked up at you, and his eyes were glassy with pleasure. You could also feel where he was hard against your thigh, and you pressed up into his bulge, making him stutter out a moan.

“Pants,” you gasped, reaching for the button of your shorts again. “Help me… help me get them off.”

“Shit,” Eddie exhaled with wide eyes as he watched you lift your hips, and then he was fumbling into motion. “Yeah, here let me just…”

With his help, you were able to push your cutoffs down your thighs and kick them away, but he stopped you when you reached for your panties.

“Eddieeee,” you whined, but he clasped your wrist firmly and pressed your hand into the bed beside your hip.

“Slow downnnn, Obi,” he said, that familiar teasing lilt in his voice, and he flashed a lopsided smile as he started to crawl down the length of you. “There are some things I want to savor.”

“Sadist,” you pouted, and Eddie opened his mouth like he was going to retort, but then his eyes zeroed in on the apex of your thighs.

“Fuckkkkk,” he breathed as he lied down on his stomach, legs dangling off the bed and his gaze glued to your pussy. “You’re so… wet. Did I do this to you?”

The awed disbelief in his voice made you moan, and you tried to clench your thighs together, but Eddie grabbed them, fingers digging into your skin.

“No, don’t hide,” his said, voice breathless. “I— fuck, I want to—”

He broke off suddenly and then just darted forward, licking a hot stripe up your slit that you felt even through the soaked fabric of your panties.

“Oh!” you gasped, the syllable cracking in the middle, and your hips bucked toward his face.

Eddie pulled back as he licked his lips, and then his wide eyes flicked from your pussy, to your face, and back again.

“S-Shit, you’re right,” he rasped out, and his fingers started clawing at your hips, tugging your panties down your thighs. “These have to go, gotta get out of the way, f-fuck.”

You giggled a little at his frantic fumbling and the way he threw your underwear over his shoulder, but then his hands were sliding up your thighs again, prying them apart, and the laughter hitched in your lungs when his eyes zeroed in on where you were wet and trembling.

“Je-Jesus Christ.” Eddie swallowed sharply as he lowered himself onto his stomach again, his gaze still locked on your pussy. “I— Jesus H. Christ. God, you look so pretty, so… Fuck, can I taste you, Obi? Please?”

Your whole body flushed, from the tips of your ears to your toes, and you squirmed beneath him.

“Y-You don’t have to,” you muttered. Despite not being a virgin yourself, you’d actually only slept with one other person, and he never did that to you. In fact, the whole “losing you virginity” thing took less than five minutes and was ultimately pretty unsatisfying.

“Oh, I want to, baby,” Eddie corrected as his eyes finally clicked to yours, dark with hunger. “Holy shit, do I want to.”

The last remnants of saliva in your mouth dried up, but you felt more wetness trickle out between your legs.

“O-Okay.” Your voice shook as you nodded, and Eddie grinned like you told him he won the lottery.

Fuck, he was going to destroy you.

Eddie wiggled a little to get more comfortable, but after a moment, he ended up just kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, tugging you down until your butt met the edge of the mattress.

You gasped as he parted your thighs to make room for his broad shoulders, and he smiled as he trailed kisses up each of your legs before he pushed them back so your feet dangled near his ears.

In this position, you felt vulnerable, all of you laid out and laid bare, but the absolute adoration and lust in Eddie’s eyes chased away any of your lingering insecurities.

“Damn, I wish I had a camera,” he muttered as his gaze dragged over you, hot enough to burn. “You look… so fucking incredible.”

“Eddie, stop teasing me,” you huffed, reaching out to twine your fingers through his curls. “Please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty girl.” He smirked, but then his cocky expression grew a little hesitant. “I-I’ll probably fuck it up at first, but just tell me what feels good. I want to make you feel good.”

You nodded frantically, but all your words were lost when Eddie leaned forward, his breath fanning over your slick folds. His fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he anchored himself, the rings on his left hand cold against your overheated skin. Then the flat of his tongue dragged across your pussy, and your vision whited out.

“F-Fuck!” You tossed your head back as pleasure zapped through you, and you unintentionally tugged on Eddie’s hair, pulling him further between your thighs.

“Oh, god,” Eddie whimpered, and then he was suddenly licking you with fervor, delving between your folds until his nose bumped into your clit. Even that slight stimulation to your bundle of nerves had you jolting, and Eddie noticed, shifting his mouth upward, tongue swirling in circles that made you see stars.

“Eddieeee,” you keened to the ceiling when he sucked your clit between his lips, and he immediately popped his head up so you could just see his wide eyes and slick mouth over the curve of your belly.

“Holy shit, you taste so fucking good, Obi,” he said, voice guttural. “Am I— does it feel good, too?”

“Y-Yes, fuck, Eddie, feels incredible,” you panted as you tugged at his hair. “Please don’t stop.”

Eddie stared at your flushed and writhing body for a moment before he was diving back between your legs, tongue and lips everywhere. He was a little sloppy, saliva mixing with your arousal and making everything slick, but his eagerness made up for it. He was also very attuned to your every sound and twitch, so when he dipped his tongue into your entrance, and your moans rose in pitch, he started swirling the tip of his tongue around your hole until you were practically sobbing. Then he fucked his tongue into you as far as it could go, his nose pressed firmly to your clit, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

You didn’t know if it was the weed still singing through your veins or if it was just Eddie, but your orgasm crept up on you without warning. One moment, Eddie was pressing a sucking kiss to your clit before fucking his tongue back into you, groaning at the taste, and in the next instant, your spine was arching off the bed as every muscle in your body locked up.

“Shit, I’m-- ohhhhhh!” you wailed as Eddie rapidly thrust his tongue into you, shaking his head at the same time so his nose flicked back and forth over your clit.

It felt like you shattered into a million pieces, lights and colors exploding behind your tightly shut eyelids. You could distantly feel your legs spasming and clamping around Eddie’s head, but he was still moaning as he tongue-fucked you through your climax. You whimpered and clawed at his hair, feeling like every nerve in your body was an exposed live-wire, chanting his name until you ran out of breath.

Once your whines took on a slightly pained quality, Eddie pulled his mouth away, and it was like you were a puppet whose strings got cut, because you immediately slumped into the bed.

Air sawed in and out of your lungs as you gasped for breath, and you stared blindly at the spinning ceiling while you slowly descended back into your body. Your limbs felt like they were filled with static, but you mustered up enough energy to lift you head and look down toward the foot of the bed.

Eddie was still kneeling on the floor between your legs, and you felt your walls flutter around nothing at the glimmer of your juices smeared across his chin. His breathing was as ragged as your own, and his hair was wild, mussed by your fingers. When he caught your eye, he exhaled sharply and half-heartedly dragged the back of his wrist against his chin, his chain bracelet glinting in the light of your lamp.

“Jesus Christ, Obi,” he grunted out, and his black eyes threatened to swallow you whole. “That was… fuck, that was so goddamn hot. I could feel you fluttering around my tongue. Shit.”

He reached down with his right hand, and though the edge of the bed hid it from view, you knew he was palming his cock through his jeans. His obvious arousal made you throb again, and you bit your lip.

“I’ve… I’ve never cum that fast,” you confessed, and your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment even though the man in front of you had been tongue deep in your pussy just seconds ago.

Eddie groaned at your admission, and then both of his hands were latching onto your inner thighs again, thumbs smearing saliva and slick into your skin.

“Do you— can you do it again?” he asked, his dilated eyes flicking from your folds to your face. “I want to see you do it again. Wanna see you cum, pretty girl.”

His pet names made more slick drip out of you, made your thoughts fizz out into static for a moment, but then you frowned and propped yourself up on your elbows.

“What about you?” From this angle, you could see his lower half, and his cock was straining against his tight black jeans. It looked like it hurt. “I want to make you feel good, too. Can I put my mouth on you instead?”

Another groan rattled deep in Eddie’s chest, and he had to reach down again to press the heel of his palm into his crotch.

“Christ, that’s fucking tempting,” he panted, but then his eyes drifted back to your pussy, and they got that hungry glint in them as he leaned down and darted his tongue between your folds.

You cried out as your elbows buckled, your spine falling back to the mattress.

“But you just taste too goddamn good, baby,” he muttered against your clit. “Wanna make you feel good again. Want you to fall apart on my tongue, my fingers.”

You whined as he started licking at you once more, and soon you could feel the coil in your gut tightening bit by bit. This time, Eddie focused his mouth around your clitoris, alternating between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it between his lips, and when your legs started twitching around his ears, he snaked a hand down your belly and pressed a finger to your entrance.

You immediately shoved your hips down, sucking his finger in to the knuckle, and the two of you moaned in unison, the sound rattling through your bones.

“O-Oh, fuck,” Eddie hissed as his twisted his finger inside you, pressing against the walls of your pussy. “Fuck, Obi, you’re so wet and goddamn tight. Holy shit.”

“Eddie,” you whimpered, clenching around him. His finger was thicker than any of yours were, but it was still not enough, so you bore down, tears gathering along your lashes as you begged. “M-More. Please, Eddie. Y-Your finger f-feels so good— fuck! So good. I need another one, please.”

You were practically sobbing now, humping into his hand, and Eddie leaned down to pepper kisses over your inner thighs.

“Shhh, shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, and you felt the tip of a second finger prod at your entrance. “It’s okay, baby, I got you, give you everything you want. Anything you want. Here you go… shit, you gotta relax sweetheart, let me in.”

You whined but listened as best as you could, and a moment later, he slotted both fingers home inside of you, drawing a shout from deep within your chest. Your pussy immediately clamped down around both digits, but Eddie twisted and spread them inside you, stretching your walls, until he brushed up against that one spongy spot that caused you to wail.

“Fuck, is that it, baby? Is that the spot?” he grunted, pressing more insistently on it.

You couldn’t respond because your toes were starting to curl, your moans rising in pitch, but apparently that was all the response Eddie needed because he suddenly started thrusting his fingers, hard. They nailed your G-spot with pinpoint accuracy, squelching through your wetness, and then you felt his thumb brush over your clit.

“Cum for me, Obi,” he said as he pressed on your pleasure zones from both the inside and outside. “Cum on my fingers. Want to see it so bad, baby, please.”

The coil in your gut spun tighter and tighter, but it finally exploded when Eddie leaned down and sank his teeth into the flesh of your inner thigh.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, and you felt yourself levitate off the bed as your second climax crashed into you like a tsunami wave. The weed in your system amplified the sensations once again, sending your mind into the stratosphere and your limbs spasming like you were being electrocuted. Then there was a gush of wetness between your thighs, and Eddie’s guttural groan echoed through your bones.

The world blacked out around you for a moment, and when you came to, you were sprawled limp on the bed. Your chest heaved as your lungs fought for oxygen, but the sensation of a wet tongue dragging across your thigh caused you to jerk.

You blearily glanced down at Eddie, and a gasp whistled between your teeth at what you saw.

His curly head was propped against your thigh, which he was still kitten licking, but what shocked you were the droplets dripping off his cheeks, jaw, and bangs. Then you shifted, and you realized you were lying in a very wet spot.

“F-Fuck!” You propped yourself up on shaking elbows, disbelief burning through you. “Did I…”

You trailed off, unable to complete the sentence, and Eddie’s eyes finally met yours. They looked like twin oceans of oil that were threatening to suck you under.

“Squirt?” he finished your hanging question, and his tongue flicked out to lick a drop of your juices off his chin. “Fuck yeah you did. Hottest thing I’ve ever goddamn seen.”

“Shittttt, I’m sorry,” you groaned and covered your face with both hands, falling back onto the bed as shame spiraled through you. “I-I forgot that smoking sometimes makes me do… that.”

It had happened twice, both times after you left Eddie’s trailer high and had to come home to satiate the burning ache between your legs. It had been embarrassing then— when you were alone, and no one saw you shamefully wash your sheets in the middle of the might— but it was mortifying now.

Eddie was silent for a moment, but then you felt him shift, the bed dipping as he climbed up onto his feet and hovered over you.

“Did you miss the part where I said that was the hottest goddamn thing I’ve seen in my life?” he asked, and when you wouldn’t reply, he used one of his hands to pry yours from your face. His fingers were tacky against your skin, and you flushed when you realized it was from your orgasm.

“R-Really?” you asked tentatively, finding his eyes, and the lust in his brown gaze almost set you aflame.

In response, Eddie lowered his hips, rolling them against your own until his erection pressed into the crease of your thigh. He was hard as steel, and since he was still somehow fully clothed, his belt buckle and jeans scraped over your sensitive skin deliciously.

A whimper caught in the back of your throat, and Eddie dove down to seize your lips. You groaned at the tangy taste of yourself, and he rolled his hips into your thigh again.

“What do you think?” Eddie asked against your lips, the question half growl, and even though you’d already cum twice, desire ignited in your belly again.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you muttered as you reached down to grab the hem of his hoodie, but the instant you brushed fabric, his fingers latched onto your wrist, his grip tight and unyielding.

You thought he was teasing you again, but when you looked up at his face, the lust that had been there was suddenly gone, replaced by an uneasy fear.

His expression immediately made you still.

“Eddie?” you asked and shifted your head to meet his gaze more directly under the shadow of his bangs. “Are you… okay?”

“Y-Yeah.” He smiled shakily and cleared his throat before he turned the wattage up on the smile, but it still looked forced. You stared at him patiently for about ten seconds, and when Eddie saw he hadn’t convinced you, he sighed and averted his eyes. “It’s just, uhh, can I keep my shirt o-on?”

The question hung between the two of you for a moment, and Eddie seemed to hunch more into the curtain of his hair.

“If that’s what you’re comfortable with, of course,” you said as you frowned at him, frown deepening when he seemed to sigh in relief. “But… can I ask why?”

His sudden change in demeanor concerned you, and you could feel your desire fading, taking a back seat as you hesitantly reached out and cupped his face. Eddie ground his jaw beneath your palm, but when he finally met your eyes, his expression fractured.

“It’s just—” he started, stopped, took a deep breath. Closing his eyes, he turned his head and nuzzled into your palm. “I… don’t exactly look pretty from the neck down anymore. Damn bats really ruined my bikini body, ya know? And I just didn’t want my s-scars to ruin the mood, but hey, would you look at that, I did it all by myself, huh?”

He laughed in a dry, self-deprecating manner, but you immediately tilted his head up.

“Eddie, look at me, open your eyes,” you said firmly, and after a moment of hesitation, he obeyed. His deep brown eyes looked so lost now, so uncertain and scared, it broke your goddamn heart. “Eddie Munson, I want you to listen to me, and listen good. First off, you didn’t ruin anything. Secondly, and more importantly, you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met—”

He opened his mouth, probably intent to argue, but you narrowed your eyes at him, and his lips pursed shut.

“You are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met,” you repeated as you held his gaze. “Both inside and out. And I know for a fact that will not change no matter what’s under your shirt. I-I love you, Eddie. Did you forget that?”

“No,” he murmured, voice strained.

“Good,” you said. “Because I do. Munson, I love you so much it drives me insane. Literally insane. Insane enough that I dove head first into a hellish dimension and took on an army of bats with a lighter, a can of hairspray, and a busted shoulder.”

Eddie cracked a smile at that, his eyes going soft as melted chocolate. “My warrior princess.”

“Damn straight,” you huffed before you grew serious again. “But I love you, Eddie. Love the way you are so passionate about everything, be it DnD or learning a new song on the guitar. I love the way you’re always looking to make someone smile, someone laugh, or feel included. And I love how fiercely loyal you are, even to the point of stupidity. So nothing about you could ever be ugly. Especially not your scars. Because those scars mean y-you’re still with me, still alive. I’m, fuck, I’m so goddamn grateful for those scars, Munson.”

Your voice grew rough with tears, the backs of your eyes burning, and Eddie’s face twisted.

“Fuck, Obi, no, don’t cry. Come here.” He quickly gathered your naked body up in his arms, and then he half-carried, half-dragged you up the bed until you were both settled against the headboard. “Shhhh. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m such an idiot.”

“No, no, you’re not,” you argued, rubbing your face into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. He sighed into your hair, the sound tortured, and you knew you needed to lighten the mood. “Well, maybe a little. Sometimes. But not right now.”

“Ah, so the truth comes out.”

You snorted as you wiped your eyes against his hoodie and lifted your head off his shoulder, and Eddie immediately brushed back the hair hanging in your face. The two of you were settled on your sides—you, on your right, and him on his left— and his other hand, the one not in your hair, was wrapped around your back. His fingers trailed over your spine, spreading shivers, and you flushed a little when you remembered you were naked. You were naked, thighs still tacky with your release, and one of your legs was slotted between his.

“Sorry, again,” Eddie murmured as his eyes roamed over your face. “For, you know, ruining the mood and making you cry.”

You shook your head before you leaned up, pressing your lips chastely to his.

“Stop apologizing,” you said. “If anyone ruined the mood, it was me, the crybaby.”

Eddie smirked, his thumb brushing against your lower lip. “A very cute crybaby.”

You nipped at his thumb in retaliation, but when you felt his breath hitch, you flicked your thumb across the pad before drawing the whole digit into your mouth. Eddie stopped breathing completely then, and his eyes darkened as they stared intently at where your lips were wrapped around his thumb.

You sucked in briefly, hollowing your cheeks, and something twitched against your thigh from where it was wedged between his.

“Shit, Obi—” Eddie started, then hissed when you rocked your thigh into his crotch.

“I still haven’t made you feel good,” you whispered once you released his thumb with a pop. “Can I, Eddie? Please?”

“Fuck, how am I supposed to say no to that?” he groaned before he captured your mouth with his. When he pulled away, he was breathing hard, muttering against your lips as he rocked against your thigh. “Asking so sweetly, almost as sweet as you taste. Fuck, I love you, Obi. You know that, right? Tell me you know that.”

“I know, I know, love you, too,” you gasped and pressed your naked body against him, losing yourself in his kisses for a moment before you pulled away. He chased after you with a whine, but you placed your hand on his chest and pressed him back into the pillows propped up against the headboard. “But let me take care of you this time, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said and then exhaled shakily as you carefully straddled his lap. “F-Fucking-- Christ, you’re so beautiful, Obi.”

“Mmmm, you, too,” you hummed and pecked a quick kiss against his lips. Then you leaned back a little, met his eyes, and took the hem of his hoodie between your fingers. “Let me see you?”

Eddie bit his lip and looked a little hesitant, but after a moment, he nodded.

You smiled and gave him another kiss. “Thank you.”

Even though he’d given you consent, you still took it slow as you worked the hoodie up over his chest and tossed it to the side. Eddie flicked his hair out of his eyes as his hands settled tentatively on your waist, and you ducked to press your lips against the tip of his nose.

“Hi, there, handsome,” you said, reveling in the slight flush that spread across his lightly freckled cheeks. You traced the spreading red hue with your lips, then your tongue, shifting as you trailed across his jaw and down his neck.

“Obi,” Eddie rasped as his fingers flexed around your waist.

“Shhhh.” You dipped your tongue into his collarbone like he had done to you earlier. “Unless you want me to stop, just lie back and let me make you feel good. Do you want me to stop, Eddie?”

“N-No, fuck, no,” he stuttered, tilting his neck back to give you more room.

You smiled against his skin and sucked a quick hickey into the base of his throat, causing him to moan, but then you pulled away and shuffled backwards so you were kneeling more over his knees than his thighs. Eddie’s fingers slipped from your waist as you sat up more fully, and you felt him stiffen slightly below you as you gazed down at his bare chest.

You were careful to keep you face completely neutral, but your heart ached inside your chest for the boy beneath you. You’d seen glimpses of him shirtless before, usually when he spilled something on himself while you two were getting high at his trailer, and he stumbled around his room half-naked to look for a semi-clean shirt. So, the long, pale expanse of his torso wasn’t necessarily new to you. You even knew all of his tattoos by heart, mostly because he loved showing them off. There were the bats, the wyvern, and the puppet master on his right arm, on his forearm, tricep, and inside of his wrist respectively. Then there was the black widow spider below his left collarbone and the skull of a demon below the spider, just above his heart.

Except both the spider and the demon were unrecognizable now.

Eddie’s chest and abdomen were covered in ropy scars, pink and knotted and barely healed. Slashes marred the tattoos on his chest, so the images were dissected and distorted. But the scars on his stomach— above his right hip and below the left side of his ribcage— were worse. These scars were more jagged, both from the demo-bats’ teeth, and from where you’d burned him with a serrated knife to cauterize his wounds. The skin there was more red than pink, and you frowned as you ghosted your fingers over the raised lines, almost but not quite touching.

“Obi?” Eddie asked, and the quiet timidness in his voice snapped you out of it.

You flicked your eyes up to find him starting at you with his lip caught between his teeth, and the tinge of fear in his eyes made your throat tight again, but you shoved it down.

“I was right,” you said instead. “Still as beautiful as ever, Munson. Truly, it’s a little unfair.”

“I-I think that’s my line, sweetheart,” he scoffed, but a small smile tugged at his lips, so shy and endearing that you had to crawl up his body again to kiss him.

Eddie opened his mouth to your tongue, groaning when your naked body brushed against his. For a second, you were worried you’d hurt him, but then his kiss turned more bruising, and one of his hands came up to grope your breasts, tweaking at your nipple and causing you to groan this time.

“S-Shit, how are you so goddamn soft everywhere?” he gasped against your lips. “My hands must feel like f-fucking sandpaper.”

“No,” you moaned as your pressed into his left hand, his rings cold against the hot flesh of your breast. “Your hands feel s-so good… but stop distracting me, Munson.”

You pulled back and pouted at him, and before he could stop you, you started kissing your way down his neck again. This time, you didn’t stop at his collarbones, and you hovered over him reverently as you oh so softly dragged your lips over his scars.

“So handsome,” you muttered, pressing a kiss to his sternum. “So fucking handsome, baby. Love you so much. Every bit of you.”

“Fuck, O-Obi,” Eddie whimpered above you, and you felt him buck his hips.

You didn’t want to torture or overstimulate him too much, so you continued down his torso, pausing only briefly to dip your tongue into his bellybutton and run it across his happy trail. When you got to the buckle of his belt, you glanced up at him, finding him staring back at you with eyes as wild as his hair.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” you asked as you reached for his belt.

Eddie bobbed his head sporadically but then seemed to swallow and find his words. “Yes. Christ, yes, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, pretty boy,” you parroted his earlier words back at him. It was supposed to be a joke, but you saw the breath hitch in his chest, and you felt his cock twitch beneath your fingers.

Oh. He seemed to like a little praise. This knowledge made you throb, and you filed it away to use later.

Instead, you focused your attention on opening his belt and jeans, and you immediately started working both his pants and boxers down his thighs. Eddie lifted his hips to help you, and after a brief tug, his cock sprang out and slapped against his belly, causing him to moan.

You quickly shoved the rest of his clothes down his legs, and Eddie kicked them off before you knelt in the V between his thighs.

“Christ,” you breathed. It was one of Eddie’s favorite words, and it was the only thing you could think of as you stared at his straining cock.

You admittedly hadn’t seen many dicks in your life, but his was by far the prettiest. Were dicks supposed to be pretty? Because his sure was. It stretched out maybe seven inches, arching towards his belly button, and the girth of it made saliva pool in your mouth. At the base sat a bush of dark brown curls even more wild than the hair on his head, and at the tip was a little mushroom cap, beading with pearly fluid.

“I-Is that a good, um, Christ?” Eddie asked nervously.

Instead of answering, you leaned down and licked up the underside of his cock, pausing at the tip to lap at his precum, and Eddie cried out, his hips leaping off the bed.

“Mmmm, you taste as good as you look, Munson,” you sighed and licked your lips. Then you shifted, positioning yourself flat on your stomach between his legs, your own kicking up into the air behind you. Eddie’s thighs tensed when you slid your hands across them, one snaking further up his pelvis to grip the base of his cock and tilt it toward you.

“Ohhhh, son of a—” Eddie whimpered as his shaft throbbed in your hand. It was warm, and softer than you imagined, and you couldn’t stop yourself from sticking out your tongue and swirling it around his head.

“I’m not exactly an expert at this, either,” you confessed, feathering a kiss under his mushroom shaped head. “So tell me if you do or don’t like something.”

“Obi,” he gritted out with his head pressed back into the pillows and his eyes tightly shut. “I can’t even fuckin’ look at you right now because I’m on the edge of losing my absolute shit. Y-You could probably just sit there like that for a minute, and it would be enough.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” You smirked, feeling high off the power you held over this man. And from the weed, too, if you were being honest.

Then, before he could say a single thing in retort, you fitted your lips over the head of his cock and sunk halfway down.

Eddie wordlessly shouted as he thrashed, and you had to use one of your hands to press his hips back into the mattress. The other you used to grip the base of his shaft, and you pumped softly as you swirled your tongue around the portion in your mouth. His skin tasted a little salty but clean, and the smell of him was more pungent here, muskier. It drove you a little crazy, and you felt drool dripping past your lips as you slowly started to bob your head.

“Fuckkkkk, Obi, holy shit, t-that feels—” Eddie broke off with a whine, and suddenly his fingers were tangling in your hair. He didn’t push your head down, though, just held you there as he twitched his hips upward, his shaft throbbing against your tongue.

After letting him shallowly thrust for a minute, you pulled back until his head popped free of your mouth, but you didn’t go far, pressing kisses to his tip and using the saliva running down his shaft to lubricate your still-pumping hand.

“God, you’re so hard, Eddie,” you muttered absently, feeling him throb between your fingers. “Does this feel good?”

“Ohhh, so good, so fucking good, you have no idea how good,” he babbled as his fingers scratched pleasantly against your scalp.

“Hmmm, excellent,” you hummed and licked at his leaking head like a lollipop. “Because I want to make you feel as incredible as you made me feel.”

“Fuck, baby, you’re already— AHH!” he cried out, voice cracking, as you suddenly took him in your mouth again and deepthroated him.

You gagged a little, eyes stinging, as he hit the back of your mouth, but your breathed in through your nose and swallowed, feeling the walls of your throat cinch around the head of his cock.

“Shit!” Eddie’s voice rose an octave, taking on a panicked pitch, and then he was suddenly, frantically, yanking at your hair. “F-Fuck, Obi! Stop, shit, stopstopstop!”

You immediately pulled your head back, his dick sliding out of your lips with a wet slurp. Your breathing was ragged as your looked up to find him in a half-seated position, his face contorted and eyes closed, and your stomach immediately churned.

“A-Are you okay?” you rasped, your voice hoarse but concerned. “Fuck, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You used your arms to push yourself up and away from his pelvis, until you were kneeling again between his thighs. Eddie panted as he slowly collapsed back onto your pillows, and one of his hands came up to push the damp bangs out of his face while the other flopped across his hips.

“Eddie?” you prompted when he didn’t answer, and finally he cracked open a single eye and tilted his head to look at you.

“You… didn’t hurt me,” he muttered, and he still sounded a little breathless. “I just— fuck, that felt so good, sweetheart. Too good. I, um, almost… ya know, i-in your mouth.”

“Oh.” You smiled, your concern melting away as your desire reignited. “You could have, you know. That was kind of the goal, Munson.”

Eddie exhaled shakily, and you saw his dick twitch where it laid against his stomach, still red and slick with your spit.

“Jesus Christ, don’t say stuff like that, Obi,” he breathed, and he reached down to squeeze the base of his cock. “I-I don’t want to… finish… in your mouth. This time.”

The ‘this time’ made the heat in your gut travel up into your chest, and your smile widened at the implication that he planned to do this again. Because you wanted to do it over and over, for the rest of forever. Until you got sick of it, though you didn’t think that was possible.

You’d only gotten a taste, and yet you knew you were quickly becoming addicted to Eddie Munson.

“Oh, really?” you asked with a smirk, slinking up his body until you were straddling his lap. Your pussy hovered right over his cock, but you stayed hovering above him as you met his glassy gaze. “Where do you want to finish then, Munson? What do you want?”

Eddie’s hands settled against your hips, and his eyes were wide as he gazed up at you with naked adoration etched across his face.

“I-Inside,” he stuttered and then swallowed as his fingers tightened around your hips. “God, Obi, I want to be inside you so fuckin’ bad, I— t-there’s a condom, in my jeans. Can I— let me grab it.”

“Since when have you started carrying around a condom in your pocket?” you teased.

“Since I started waking up every day with your ass pressed against my morning wood,” Eddie said, making your pussy throb, and he patted your naked thigh as he twitched beneath you. “Come on, let me up, it’ll only take a second.”

“Actually…” You bit your lip as you placed one of your hands on his sternum and gently pressed him back down into the bed. “I was thinking… y-you’re clean, since you’ve never, um, been with anyone. And I’ve only, uh, d-done this once, and I’ve been tested since then. Also, I’ve… been on birth control for years now, it helps to regulate my cyc— never mind. What I’m trying to say is we don’t need a condom… if that’s alright with you?”

You didn’t know where you found it in you to be embarrassed after everything you and Eddie had already done together, but your cheeks flushed with heat all the same. You were still hovering over Eddie’s lap, but that quickly changed when he suddenly lunged out and yanked you down onto his chest. You squeaked in surprise, barely able to catch yourself by bracing your hands on the bed beside his shoulders, but then Eddie was devouring your mouth, teeth and tongue and hands everywhere.

You moaned as his fingers skimmed up your sides, detouring to your breasts and nipples for a moment before they continued upwards to cup your face. His tongue swiped across yours one last time before he ripped himself away, and he panted against your mouth as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“That’s… holy shit, that’s so fucking hot,” he whimpered as he bucked up beneath you, and the brush of his bare dick on your wet folds punched a groan from your chest. “Obi, Christ, Obi, I need to be inside you. Fuck, please, I just— I’m gonna die if I’m not inside you in the next thirty seconds.”

“I already told you once, you’re not dying on me, Munson,” you said, snaking a hand down between your torsos to grasp the base of his cock.

Eddie whined again at your touch, but it was nothing compared to the strangled sound he made when you notched the head of his dick against your dripping cunt. You sat up a little to get the angle right, but then you paused and smiled at the tense, panting man beneath you.

“Love you, Eddie. I love you so goddamn much.”

“Fuck, I love you, too, sweetheart, I— OH!”

He broke off with a shout as you pushed your hips down, popping the head of his dick past your entrance. The stinging stretch made your eyes roll back into your head, and a guttural groan echoed up your throat as your slowly sank down, inch by inch, onto his cock.

“S-Shit, Eddie,” you whined once you sat in the cradle of his pelvis. Your walls ached and fluttered as they tried to accommodate him, and it felt like he was lodged all the way up in your chest. The first and last guy you’d been with definitely hadn’t felt like this.

“Fuckkkk,” Eddie practically sobbed out, and his nails dug into the skin of your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. But he managed to lift his head from where he’d thrown it back into the pillows, and his hazy, unfocused eyes found yours. “Christ on a fucking crutch. A-Are you okay, Obi? You’re so goddamn tight.”

“It’s cuz you’re f-fucking big,” you shot back, your voice a little breathless as you gently settled your palms against his belly, careful to avoid the worst scars. The stretch of him inside you still ached a little bit, but it was beginning to fade, and you slowly rocked your hips against his.

You moaned at the dual sensation of him moving inside your pussy while his pubes tickled your clit, and Eddie cursed again as his fingers clamped down around your waist.

“Wait, s-stop, stop,” he suddenly hissed, and you froze above him, lifting your hands off his stomach.

“Sorry, did I—” you started to ask, but Eddie quickly shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, you just feel too goddamn good. Again.” Eddie laughed shakily before he took a deep breath and let it out slow. Then he opened his eyes, and he smiled up at you sheepishly. “Sorry. You’re just… so fuckin’ beautiful, and I’m on a virgin hair trigger here, and—”

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a smile, reaching down to pry one of his hands off your hips so you could press a kiss to his fingers. “You have nothing to apologize for. Do you feel good right now?”

“Good doesn’t even fuckin’ scratch the surface, sweetheart,” he breathed out, and when you released his hand, it immediately fell to one of your breasts, brushing over your nipple. “This is quite literally the best goddamn day of my life. Don’t know how it could get better from here.”

“I think I have an idea.” You smirked before you leaned down and slanted your mouth over his, rolling your hips in the process.

Eddie’s groan was muffled by your tongue, and you whimpered along with him as you lifted a few inches up his shaft before sitting right back down. You swirled your hips with him rooted deep inside you, and his hands ghosted up your spine, pressing you against him.

The two of you rocked together as you kissed, but you needed air eventually, so you tore your lips away, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder as you gasped for breath.

With his lips free, Eddie took to babbling, and every word out of his mouth just made you drip and clench around his cock.

“O-Oh, fuck, baby, you feel sooo good, so goddamn good. So wet and-- Fuck! Squeezing me so tightly. Christ, you’re driving me insane, I can’t even t-think. My brain is on fucking fire-- god! Obi. S-Shit, Obi, w-wait. I’m sorry, wait, waitwait.”

You froze midroll and whimpered as his cock brushed that special spot inside you. Eddie panted as he clutched you to him, but after a moment, he slowly relaxed into the sheets, and you carefully propped yourself up on your hands.

“Sorry,” Eddie muttered as he blinked up at you.

“I told you, you have nothing to apologize for,” you reminded him with a smile, but he still looked so contrite, so you clenched around him, rising up a little and sinking back down so he could hear the wet noises coming from between your bodies. “Hear that? That’s because you turn me on so much, Ed. You’re the one making me so wet. I could probably just sit here on your cock and cum without either of us moving. That’s how good you feel inside me.”

“Goddamn it, Obi,” he gritted out as he clenched his eyes shut again, his hands clutching at the top of your thighs. “I’m trying not to cum here, and you’re not helping.”

“But I want you to cum,” you said, sitting up fully and starting to rock on his cock again. From this angle, you could almost feel him in the back of your throat, and you tossed your head back as you settled your palms against his belly and rode him in slow but deep movements. “I, ah, want you to cum deep inside me, pretty boy. Want— fuck, want to feel it.”

“Oh, shit,” Eddie hissed and bared his teeth. Then his hands wrapped around your hips again, guiding you a little bit faster. “S-Shit. I— Can you cum again? Wanna feel you cum on my cock. Fuck, I want that so bad. What can I do?”

“Touch me,” you gasped. The coil in your gut was tightening again, wound tighter and tighter by the insistent press of his cock deep inside you.

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” he groaned, shifting his left hand from your hip, and the cold bite of his metal rings against your heated and swollen clit made you cry out.

“Eddie!” You jolted further up his cock than you had been, and you were so slick that you just slid right back down, your ass meeting his pelvis with a wet slap. The head of his cock knocked against something inside you that made you see stars, and suddenly you were bouncing on his dick, rapid and wild, your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Fuck! Oh, god, oh, Christ, O-Obi, Obi, I’m— shit, I’m cumming.” Eddie’s voice rose into a high-pitched whine, his fingers and rings blindly bumping against your clit, his hips bucking off the bed to meet yours. “I’m cumming, fuck, cum with me, cum with me, baby, please!”

“Yes, cum inside me!” you sobbed as he snapped his hips up into yours, and your third orgasm of the night hit you like a freight train. “Eddie!”

You felt his cock thob in the tight clutch of your walls moments before you were filled with the warmth of his cum, and the sensation heightened your own climax. Your whole body spasmed, lightning in every nerve, and you only distantly felt Eddie tug you down onto his chest, his tongue invading your mouth, his sobs and curses muffled by your lips.

The two of you rolled and writhed against each other as you rode out your climaxes, but eventually your thighs burned too much, so you just collapsed limp on Eddie’s chest while he thrust up into you a few more times. You whimpered from oversensitivity and the aftershocks of your orgasm, and your brain felt like slush between your ears when Eddie finally gasped, shuddered, and stilled beneath you.

A long moment stretched by in silence as you both caught your breath and returned to your bodies, but Eddie was the first to stir, his hand feathering up your spine. It tickled slightly, so you involuntarily clenched, and then you both groaned as you tightened around his softening cock.

“Fuckkkkkk.” Eddie laughed, his chest rumbling beneath you, and his palm pressed flat between your shoulder blades. “That was… holy shit. I… I think I might have died. I think this might actually be heaven.”

“Why do you keep trying to die on me?” you grumbled as you lifted your head off his shoulder and pouted at him.

“’M not trying to, baby.” Eddie smiled and cupped your cheek, but then he bit his lip, his dark-brown eyes searching your face. “Was that… okay… for you?”

You blinked at him. And then again. “Munson. Did you not just make me cum three times?”

He blushed, but his smile was equal parts sheepish and proud. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Damn right you did,” you sighed, wincing as a cramp started up in your thigh. “But, um, I need to… dismount now. Leg cramp.”

“Oh, shit, yeah, let me—” Eddie paused and glanced down at where you were still connected, and then his eyes darted from side to side, searching. “My shirt, I—”

“Too slow,” you groaned, and you pulled up without warning.

His half flaccid cock slid out of you with a wet sound, and both of you whined. You could feel something start to trickle out of you and onto your inner thigh, but you just flopped onto your back, Eddie scooting over to make room for you against the headboard.

“Sorry,” you hissed as you stretched your legs out, pointing your toes. “Couldn’t wait. Damn Charlie horse.”

“Want me to rub it?” Eddie asked, and he shifted partially onto his side next to you.

“No, it’s fading, I’m okay,” you sighed, relaxing into the bed and turning your head to look at him. But he wasn’t looking at you. No, his eyes were glued to the inside of your thighs, and when you followed his gaze, you blushed. Your skin was wet, glistening in the light of the bed side lamp, and you could feel more wetness seeping out of you and onto the covers.

Oh, well. You needed to wash the sheets anyway. Thankfully, you had spares for tonight.

“Eddie,” you muttered when he just kept staring, and you tried to close your legs, but he suddenly reached out and stopped you, his fingertips pressing into the tacky skin of your thighs.

“No, wait… can I…” He trailed off as he glanced at you, and you wanted to tell him no, were already squirming with embarrassment, but you found yourself nodding yes.

Yes to whatever he wanted.

Eddie smiled before he scootched down the bed a little, and then he was pressing your thighs open, his fingers brushing against your sopping folds and spreading them apart.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he gaped at your swollen pussy, and you moaned, walls fluttering, pushing out another glob of his cum. “Goddamn, you look…”

He trailed off again, and you felt his thumb swipe up your slit, collecting his cum, before he slotted it back inside you.

“Ah!” you gasped, the sound transforming into a moan and then a whimper. You closed your thighs around his wrist and arched your back, trying to scoot away. “Eddie, s-sensitive.”

“Oops, sorry.” He immediately withdrew his thumb, but he paused a moment to inspect the slick glint of your combined juices on his skin.

You reached for his hand without thinking, meeting his wide eyes as you pulled his thumb to your mouth. Gently, you wrapped your lips around him, swiping your tongue over the pad of his digit. The taste was salty and tangy but not bad, and your eyelashes fluttered a little as you hollowed your cheeks.

When you released him, Eddie exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath, and then he was swooping down to kiss you again. His tongue stabbed into your mouth, chasing the remnants of your combined flavors, and you moaned as you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down to lie half on top of you.

“Whoa,” Eddie laughed against your lips. Then he pulled away to stabilize himself so he didn’t fall off the bed or crush you. “Careful there, Obi. I might trip, fall, and end up with my dick inside you again.”

You giggled at the corny joke and pecked another kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“You are so evil,” Eddie groaned as he wrapped his arms around you, trapping your own against his chest. “Evil, evil Obi.”

“Muhahaha,” you murmured sleepily, settling against him. But then your eyes fluttered open, and you saw the scars inches away from your nose. Tentatively, you traced your fingertips down the pink, ropy tissue, and when Eddie tensed slightly, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the remnants of his spider tattoo. “I didn’t hurt you, though, did I?”

“Princess, what you made me feel was the opposite of pain,” Eddie sighed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You made me feel… fucking fantastic. Is it weird if I thank you? Because I feel like I should thank you. You know what, I’m doing it. Thank you, Obi. Thank you for rocking my goddamn world.”

“You’re welcome.” Giggling, you pressed another kiss to another scar. “And thank you, Munson. I… I love you.”

“Fuck, I love you, too,” he breathed as he placed his fingers under your chin and tilted your face up. His lips brushed over your so sweetly, and his opposite hand traced idle patterns against the bare skin of your back.

When he pulled back, he was smiling that smile you loved so much— the one that crinkled the lines around his eyes and made his dimples stand out— and there was a hint of mischief in his chocolate brown eyes.

“Now, what do you say to us rolling another joint, raiding your kitchen, and going round two?” Eddie smirked.

“I think…” you said with a smile, tickling your fingers against his chest until he giggled and pulled back. “That you better hurry up and get rolling, Munson.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned and smacked another kiss against your lips before clambering out of bed.

You laughed at his overexaggerated hurried pace, the way he kept glancing at the clock on your nightstand with increasing faux-worry. He somehow managed to roll another joint without spilling anything, and you felt your breath hitch a little as you watched him lick it closed.

Yeah, you were definitely addicted to Eddie Munson now.

But you didn’t really see the problem with that.

#eddie munson #eddie munson/you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson/f!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson/female reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson/fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson survives #fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #my writings

[penvisions]

garnish {chapter 3}

Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Thoughts about Joel Miller have you desperate for something you hadn't sought out in quite a while: human touch. So when your friends suggest a girls' night out, you readily agree. It's just your luck that the very man plaguing your thoughts happens to be at the bar picked out for the night.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warning: alcohol consumption, drunken interactions, creepy flirthing, unwanted attention, fighting, bar fights, nonconsensual touching (not joel), protective joel, injuries, blood, degrading talk, power dynamics, abuse of power, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, smoking, cigarettes, joel miller is a conflicted man, kissing, drunk makeout session

A/N: this story is literally keeping me from climbing the walls in my apartment, i've applied to over 20 jobs the last few days and made even more calls to see if places were hiring. the issue isn't finding something, it's finding something willing to pay me for my experience and skill set. but i found out a local coffee shop is opening a new location and i should be getting a call back with interview times for that today, they need cooks and bakers and i can definitely do that

ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist

It was Wednesday, your normal day off for the week, but Joel had scheduled you two hours of prep, the shift reminder notification early that morning. It had woken you up, having allowed yourself to sleep in after the rather busy shift the night before. It had been a record-breaking sales day, the concert downtown only blocks away bringing increased foot traffic. It had been a week and a half since that terrible Sunday shift where you had finally given into hunger and had ordered food only to be told you had messed up. You had gone hungry that night, nothing in your kitchen at home.

You hadn’t spoken to Joel beyond confirming that dishes were ready to go out and helping to take updated pars out to the servers’ board for them to be aware of throughout services. Lists were left atop the sandwich prep station, and you completed it every shift you had before making your way toward the bar. They were in his writing, some things new with recipe page numbers for the guidebook stored on the expo line.

You had completed a few things on your list and were moving onto the next thing when his booming voice sounded from the walk in.

“Where are the rest of the yellow onions?”

Everyone in the kitchen looked over their stations, including you. The yellow onions you had chopped up for the red lentil soup were sitting in the pot you had atop a portable burner on the left side of your station. Cutting board beside it as you chopped the carrots that were to be added next.

“Whose used yellow onions today?” His brow was furrowed, lips downturned as he gazed around the kitchen. The three confirmations of ‘here, chef’ had him moving intimidatingly through the space, the first two seemed to come out of their interaction unscathed. But you felt like you weren’t about to be so lucky.

“When did you start the prep for these? They look nearly caramelized already.” He stirred the wooden spoon resting in the deep pot, getting a feel on the state of the onions cooking inside. You had stepped aside, hands behind your back as you let him inspect your station. He turned to watch as you answered, professional air about you as you briefly met his eyes with your own. You spoke in an even tone, worried about how he was going to react. He had already proven himself comfortable with cutting you off and denying you food that you had paid with your own money. And that was when you hadn’t actually done anything to warrant that type of reaction.

“I started this half an hour ago, gathered them from the walk in as I gathered everything else, chef.”

“Did you happen to notice that you grabbed the last ones? There are none in the box, left empty on the shelf. That you too? Don’t understand the way things work here, do ya?” He turned with a sharpie held tight between his fingers and he jutted it at the dray erase board beside the walk-in door where things low in stock were to be written down. “In case anyone is unclear on how this kitchen operates: things low in stock are to be written on that board there BEFORE we run out. Boxes or containers that are emptied while grabbing items are to be discarded or put into dish, not left on the shelf for the next person to find.”

“Yes, chef!” The chorus rang out evenly throughout the room.

He turned back to the portable burner and clicked it off, turning the nob off and the whoosh of gas going out was loud in the slight hum of busy work that the kitchen returned to once he had finished speaking.

“Why don’t you go clock yourself out.”

“Chef, there-“ You tried to talk to him, let him know that you had left nearly three pounds of onions left in the box. It wasn’t empty when you left the walk-in. You had been too wrapped up in your work to notice who else had gone in afterwards, though you wouldn’t have sold them out to begin with.

“Go. Clock out, now.”

“Yes, chef.” You wouldn’t raise your face to meet his look. Trying to keep your anger in check lest you give him a real reason to go off on you. Instead, you moved to grab your sharpie laid out over the recipe binder. The small field notes pad of paper beside it with the notations for a double batch written neatly on the page it was open to. Joel blocked your movement with a sidestep, his broad figure blocking your reaching hand.

“Now means now.”

“My-“

“Is now mine. Go.”

Your eyes flicked up and you tried your best not to pin him with the annoyance that was humming through your very blood. This man was nothing but a nuisance, you had only agreed to come into the kitchen because they were short staffed. But it was degrading work, to be around this man who deemed nearly everything below par and had extreme standards for the way things were to be done. The two instances of common decency he had offered you had to have been a fluke, maybe he had been extra tired and worn out those days, didn’t mean to let his guard down. Either way, you were quickly getting over the fluctuating temperatures of his attitude. At first it had been jarring, but you weren’t about to let it get to you any longer. You were determined to face it head on or dish it back out in what ways you could safely do so without risking your job.

You were lagging outside of the back door, standing with the bar back, whose name was Millie and a server who were both on break. You each had a cigarette in hand, swapping stories about the worst pick up lines that you had been approached with. You had removed your apron, it was folded carefully in your crossbody bag to be washed when you got home, simple black long sleeve Henley along with it. That left you in your black denim with that kitschy cute heart belt buckle and a dark green racerback. You had left your hair up in its normal fashion of low buns on either side of your head, short black beanie atop your head.

“You gotta admit,” Your laughter ringing through the air accompanied by the giggles of the two girls in front of you. “He was honest, what better way to start a conversation, though I could’ve done without the-“

All the laughter cut off as the backdoor opened and Joel appeared with a bag of trash. The two younger girls snubbed out their waning cigarettes and scurried inside, deeming breaktime over with his sudden arrival. You watched as Joel tossed the bag over the lip of the nearby dumpster before removing his gloves and tossed them in as well. He removed a pack of his own cigarettes from the breast pocket of his chef’s coat, and you could see the spiral wiring of your notebook peeking out over the top of it. His eyes took in the way your lips moved as you took a long drag from your own, bringing your phone out to ignore him.

The snick snick snick of his lighter resulted in a deep grunt, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye. The cigarette he had pulled out was between his plush lips and his dead lighter was being pushed back into the pocket of his chef’s pants. When his eyes flicked to you, your attention snapped back to your phone. He cleared his throat, and you cocked an eyebrow up at the sound, turning to give him the barest hint of attention. He was leaning heavily against the side of the building, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he regarded you.

“Do you-

“Nope.” You took the last drag before snuffing out your own cigarette and tossed the butt into the pail beside the door. You started walking toward the parking lot, your truck beeping with a press of the control in your hand. The strap of your bag over your shoulder caught the man’s eye as you began to move away.

“You’re just gonna walk off from your shift?”

“Today’s my day off, chef.” You didn’t look back at him but could tell that your words had affected him.

“Shit, I-“ He straightened up and moved away from the wall, taking a step toward you, his hands coming out from his pockets to take the unlit cigarette from between his lips.

“Don’t worry about it. Now you don’t have to worry me using up all your inventory, right?” You pulled another cigarette out from the pack still in your hand along with your phone and brought a lighter out from your own front pocket. You took a long drag and blew the smoke in his direction over your shoulder, aware of his gaze on your back and you hopped into the cab of the truck.

The next day, everything that was on your prep list had been completed and the one for today had instructions on where to find the mise for each recipe. Everything was already prepared for you and were just combining and finishing the last few steps of each one.

“Hi there, what can I get started for you?” You placed a coaster down on the bar top before a glass of water, eyes coming up as you smiled at the new guest. Your smile faltered a little when the face of your biological evolution professor beamed back at you, but you didn’t let your surprise show other than that.

“I heard a rumor that the bartender here made the best whisky drinks. Here to test out that theory.” His voice was smooth, something you had often spoken aloud to your friends that made the class lectures rather easy. His baritone deep and the ways in which he spoke with such passion and interest in his material was an added bonus to understanding the class subject matter than most.

“Let’s get to testin’, what your preferred whiskey?” You busied yourself making the drinks that had been rung up the last couple of minutes, the man having sat to the side of the well in the last seat along the right side of the bar.

“I’m a Bullet man, myself. But I’m up for whatever you think is best.”

“Oh, well, of course the one I think is best is our top shelf.” You tossed the man a playful smirk, aware that it was a possible line being crossed. But neither of you were on campus, you were at work, and he was one of your bar guests. His laugh was beautiful as he knocked his head back, the line of his throat catching shadows from the strong lights over the bar.

“I actually prefer Woodford, it’s not too expensive but its leagues above some of the stuff on the shelves like Evan Williams.”

He was funny, quick-witted. Matching your jokes as fast as he could. Bringing up documentaries he had recently seen.

“No, but like that’s the thing! There’s been no discovery of this caliber ever before, its unprecedented in nearly every aspect.” You were making a round of lemon drops for a group of girls on the other end of the bar, loading up the shaker and then securing the smaller component over it before lifting your hand and shaking it. As you did so, you reached over to grab the coup glasses you would need for the pour. A figure appeared at the well, taller than the servers and barback, who had gone on break a few minutes ago.

You glanced over at Joel, the man had his hands atop the plastic mats, eyes taking in the organized garnish container and the jars of small straws and picks for the servers to complete their drinks. You nodded at him to let him know you saw him and would be with him as soon as possible before you held the shaker tight in one hand and used the heel of your palm to knock the smaller part loose. Your hand was steady as you parted the two components enough to strain the bright pink liquid from the ice, not looking up from it.

“To actually have fossil evidence of not just any Hominid species, but of a newly discovered hominid species, with a crafted tool in their fuckin’ hand! Like, I got chills, and I was pretty sure my attention was plastered to the screen. Didn’t even touch the food I made that night. I immediately started just taking notes throughout the whole thing.”

“To be fair, it was just as intriguing to find out that the child’s body had been in the cavern wall, not even properly buried like the rest of the bodies in the Dinaledi chamber.”

“Oh my gosh, I know! That opens a whole plethora of questions about what that child was even doing, was he the one carving those symbols into the wall, was he alone- hold on one moment.” You moved over to the other side of the bar, two coup glasses cradled carefully in each hand, and you took the four of them over to the girls who had been watching you make them. They were all bright smiles and excited giggles as you told them you used Meyer lemons for a sweeter drink and added a bit of cherry juice for the color.

“She’s a busy one, guests seem to love her.” Your professor smiled over at Joel, who was watching you flit around behind the bar much like he had been admiring all night. Joel’s eyes snapped to the man beside him and he just nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She knows what she’s doing.”

“Not much of a talker in class, but her papers are beyond wonders. The way her mind makes connections is amazing. And the way she uses her words so carefully, so eloquently.”

“You go to school with her?” Joel questioned, mind going over the small interactions he’s had with you recently. You tended to stutter over your words around him, as if you were hesitant to speak in the first place. He didn’t like the comparison, now, seeing you in your element and recalling the way you had always been professional around him. But this, you behind the bar and completely enthralling as you entertained so many people and mixed drinks like it was second nature. Firing back jokes and conversation as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Your laughter ringing through the space of the dining room. He felt the pull of a frown, not liking the shift he was causing in you lately.

“Oh no, school is way behind me. I’m her professor.” The grunt Joel made seemed to display his trepidation at the revelation and the man was quick to jump into defense mode. “It’s not what it looks like, she’s at work and I’m just here on a friend’s word that it’s a good place. Didn’t even know she was here until I sat down.”

“Sure.” Joel said in a tone that said he didn’t buy a word the man was saying.

You were back with them by the well, professional smile in place as you addressed Joel. You were busy tucking a receipt and some bills of money into your server’s book, secured underneath the counter and atop a cooler beside the drink station.

“Yes, chef?”

“Bourbon for the steak sauce. And whatever amber you have on tap.” He tried to muster up the courage to lighten up his face from a frown, but the way your eyes flashed away from him told him it didn’t work.

“Heard, chef.”

You busied yourself with retrieving the bottle of bourbon he had asked you to tack onto your order. He hadn’t wanted to deal with the liquor vendors himself and sure you would find a better deal than him anyway.

“It’s gonna be a 6.7 percent amber, it’s smooth and the notes of pecan to cut the malt. Only one I have on tap at the moment, that okay?” You talked over your shoulder, picking up on the waves and attention from the other patrons of the bar top, reaching to get more than the one glass needed for just Joel’s request. You poured two blondes, an IPA, and a stout and placing them in front of those who had been nursing them all night before going to pull the tap for the amber. It poured for maybe two seconds before it sputtered and compressed air forced itself out of the spicket.

“I told Millie to change out the keg last night, I’m sorry, chef. It’s gonna take me a minute before I can step away and replace it.” Your brows were furrowed in a worried expression, not wanting this to be something he used against you. You were really hoping to get something to go later, needing to finish a paper that was due tomorrow before class. He must’ve clocked the rising panic in your eyes because he squared his shoulders before shoving off the drink station.

“I gotcha, which label am I looking for?”

“Oh, um, Riverbank Red.”

“Heard.” He turned to move toward the small walk-in just behind the bar, the heavy door opening easily underneath his hands. You could hear him rustling around inside, the hiss of him removing the empty keg and then the clunk of him placing the new one in its place. The two knocks on the wall alerted you that it was all set and you pulled the tap, compressed air working its way through the hook up before foam began to stream. Letting it run for a few seconds, you turned around and grabbed a fresh pint glass for Joel’s drink. You used the previous one and filled it, cutting off the tap and took a long pull from it.

When you lowered the glass after your drink, you found two pairs of eyes on you. You looked between your professor and Joel, both on each side of the corner of the bar. Some of the foam from the outside of the glass when the tap died out had run down your chin and settled on your chest. The cut of your shirt was a little low, your simple, silver chain necklace catching the soft glow of the bar lights much like the foam.

You avoided meeting either of their gazes as you poured a second pint for Joel and walked it over. Before you could place it atop the drink station beside the bottle of bourbon already waiting, he reached out for it and his thick fingers brushed yours. His beautiful, brown eyes flashed down and caught yours, full of something you didn’t recognize, prompting you to pull your hand away as you struggled to catch your breath.

His teeth clicked with the clenching of his jaw, his hands tightening around items he came over for and he turned to make his way back to the kitchen.

“He’s not much of a charmer, is he?”

“He just has an asshole voice, don’t mind him.” With a somewhat fake smile plastered on your face, you turned back to your professor and started making him another drink as more rang through the printer. “Now, what were the most concrete dates we had archived for allusions to tool use?”

The alcohol in your system was washing your stress and anxieties away. Moving your body along to the song that was bumping from the speakers of the bar that held a small dance floor. Your friends’ bodies were moving alongside you, along with you, tangling with your own in a heady and exciting way. It was such a relief to not have any worries at the moment, only blipping thoughts of ‘oooh this is a good song’ and ‘another drink, yes please’.

You were taking a break, downing a glass of water and ordering a round of shots for everyone. There were five of you altogether and they huddled around you as you passed one to each of them, smiling widely at the bartender across from you. He just chuckled with a shake of his head and moved on down the bar to help out two waiting men. If you had been paying attention, you would’ve recognized one in a particular. But you were too preoccupied with the rather loud cheers the girls were trying to agree on before someone finally just shouted, ‘drink up, bitches!’ and you were downing the shot along with them.

The burn of it down your throat was anticipated and you gathered the empty glasses from them while they sputtered and coughed, not able to handle it as well as they normally could with already being more than tipsy. You were leaning over the bar a little, on your tip toes to place them atop the washer on the plastic pad you knew the bartender liked to gather used cups before loading them up.

A large hand found the exposed small of your back, your crop tank top allowing for the skin to be on display. It was dangerously close to the waist of your skirt, and you jerked back with a start, face contorting into one of anger.  

“Hey, who the fuck do you think you are?” You settled back on your heels, the height of them making you a little taller than normal. Your eyes swept over the crowd around the bar and found that your friends had returned to the dance floor, leaving you to deal with this on your own. Not that you couldn’t, but it would’ve been nice to have a witness. The man in question was rather tall, blonde, nice suit, but his forwardness left little to be desired.

“Just helpin’ to hold ya steady, looked like you were about to flip over the bar, little lady.”

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Didn’t mean to offend-“

“Yeah, well, ya did. Don’t fuckin’ touch me, got it?”

“C’mon now. You were gettin’ all close and personal with your friends, maybe I wanted a feel for myself.”

The man stepped closer to you, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath, cheap and cloying as it wafter over into your personal space. His hands were coming up as if he were going to wrap them around your hips and pull you to him. His eyes were raking slowly up and down your body, taking in the short skirt and crop tank top you had deemed appropriate for the night. The cleavage peeking out of the top of your shirt glistening with the glitter body spray you had used before leaving your apartment.

“Leave me the fuck alone.” You spat, stepping away from the man only to collide with another’s back who had been passing by.

“Watch where-“ Joel of all people turned around, a scowl on his face. You felt like a deer caught in headlights, totally caught off guard that your boss was here in the same bar. The beer in his grip had sloshed over his fingers when you slammed into him and it was dripping to the already sticky floor. There was another man beside him, similar height and build. He had the same brown eyes and you realized they must be related.

Joel’s eyes took in the slightly panicked air about you, gaze moving behind you to see the man you had been fleeing from in such a haste.

“He touch you?”

“Don’t know if that’s any of your business, old man.” The man stepped forward and hooked a finger on the strap of your crossbody, pulling you backwards and you stumbled at the bold move. “We’re just two friends having an intimate-“

You maneuvered your stumble into a pivot and raised your clenched fist to deck the guy across the face, cutting off his words. You felt the crack of his nose beneath your knuckles, the action splitting two of them open. There was a gasp and a bark of laughter from behind you.

“I said, don’t fuckin’ touch me.” You sneered, anger lighting you up from the inside out. You didn’t pay the dull ache of your new injury any mind as you brought your arm back closer to your body, but you did flinch when the man’s hands shot out and his nails scratched along your neck where he had tried to grab you.

Joel was moving with a grunt of effort before you could fully register that the man had lunged at you.

Body slamming into his and pinning him face down against the bar with a hand tight on the back of his neck. His forehead had cracked against it, and he had shouted out weakly at the pain the action must’ve caused. His arms were twisted behind up, Joel’s right one holding them tight by the wrists. As he did so, the man with Joel had pulled you away from the confrontation, hands far more gentle with you than the man now pinned to the bar.

“You okay?” Joel looked back at you, his eyes hard and his expression schooled into one of control despite the way he had just cracked that man’s head on the top of the bar. When you didn’t answer, he looked to the man who had pulled you further out of harms way. “Tommy, she okay?”

There was no time to answer him, the bartender was out from behind the bar in a second, security that checked identification alongside him and they were forcefully guiding the man toward the door. He was putting up a rather good effort, but the two men were stronger than him. He turned with one last look over his shoulder and spat at you. The spray of it startled you and the tears that formed were angry, wet, ugly things.

Suddenly, the girls were swarming you, all talking at the same time and guiding you toward the bathroom to help get you somewhere safe to gather yourself. You let them guide you away from Joel and what you assumed was his brother, not glancing over at them lest they see more of the tears than they already had.

The bathroom muffled the booming music enough to hear your own thoughts, the lights a little brighter to help you process what had just happened. The girls were dabbing wet paper towels underneath your eyes to wipe your smeared makeup, to sooth the scratch marks on your throat. They plopped you down on one of the chairs off in the corner, removing your bag from around your body and just allowed you to take however long a moment you needed. Someone fetched a bottle of water from somewhere and you gulped down half of it without taking a breath. Your hands were shaking and you lifted your hand up to inspect the damage on your knuckles.

Someone gasped and it startled you, making you jump in your seat and then the bartender was there with a first aid kit.

“Me’n my boyfriend kicked him out, some cops were walking down the way and he taken to the station.”

He said as he kneeled in front of you, tearing open a package of sterile gauze. He dabbed some disinfectant on it before gently taking your hand and patting it across the top of your hand.

You found yourself back up at the bar, seated in a stool with your bag laid over the back of it. Your friends had checked on you again and pouted at your insistence of not going to another place with them. They wished you a good rest of the night and told you to check in with them when you got home, you returned their kind words.

You downed the last dregs of your cocktail, a vodka something, and gathered your keys from your purse.

Heels heavy, you stumbled over your own feet as your head swam and the lights of the bar flared. You reached out for the back of the stool but ended up grabbing onto a man’s arm. It was warm and strong and white-hot desire raced down your spine at the contact. Bringing your face up to apologize, it was lost in your throat as you realized it was none other than Joel Miller you were holding onto. You stepped back, turning from him to properly retrieve your bag this time.

“You’re not the boss of me here, lemme go.” You struggled against the hold he had on your upper arm, where he had turned you to face him. He seemed to realize you were uncomfortable and he dropped his hand, allowing you to turn back to face the bar. Jerry looked from your annoyed expression to the man behind you, taking in the situation and trying to determine how best to deal with it.

“Hey, man, good on you and your brother for helping us get that guy earlier, but I don’t think she likes the attention.”

“She’s drunk, you really gonna let her leave alone?”

“She comes here a lot, knows her limits and she’s got me to look out after her.”

“She’s drunker ‘n you think.”

“I am not.”

“Darlin-“

“I am not your anything, Mr. Miller.” You turned back on him with such a glare he was surprised you could hold the look in your state. He could see the way your head was lolling with every turn, your movements loose and uncoordinated. “This is a public space, I am not your prep cook and you are not my boss. You can’t lord over me and refuse me food here like at work. And I want…I want French fries.”

You stumbled as you turned around to face him again with heat behind your words. Eyes flaring in anger as he tried to reach for you again. Your body sung where one of his arms wrapped around the small of your back, helping you to keep upright as your balance faltered. The heels weren’t helping. You wished you had just stayed home, the sting of being ditched by your friends, the sting of his treatment at work and the workload of your classes, all of it was a lot and tonight was supposed to help you get out of your head, not make things worse.

“You-“ You swayed on your feet, leaning back from him slightly. The length of his forearm supporting you as you did so and stabbed a finger into his chest to emphasize your next words. Ignoring the way that his chest was firm and hot through the fabric of his shirt, he would probably have chest hair and it would be as peppered as his scruff… “You’re mean.”

His brother was doing his best to smother his laughter behind a hand, but you could hear it and you pouted even more.

“Your little brother is laughing at me and you’re a meanie.” You shoved away from him again, the warmth of his arm gone from your back as you turned around to retrieve your bag from the back of your stool. “I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are, you can’t walk, let alone drive.”

“Don’t need help. I’ve been on my own for as long as I can remember.”

“Sweetheart, you-“ Tommy tried to step in, hoping that maybe he could help out the situation. It was clear they were both worried but you were just being so stubborn. Jerry was right, you didn’t like the attention, you didn’t like getting felt up and your boss had been there to witness the aftermath. That he was still there and seeing you in such a way.

“I’m not your sweetheart.” Your voice held more bite than you thought you were capable of in your current state. Tommy stepped back with his hands held up in surrender. His brows furrowed as he shared a look with his brother.

“Lemme call you a cab, please.”

“No, I don’t need anything from you. You made it clear how you feel about me, barking at me all day when I’m helping you with your kitchen because the staff don’t wanna show up and deal with you.”

“Oof, that’s a hard hit, brother.” Tommy reached over to help you drape your purse strap over your shoulder, the crossbody secure over your form and he stepped away as you pushed at his hands much like you had done with Joel. “You really did a number on her.”

“Lemme just, please, lemme take you home. Need to make sure you get home okay.” His voice was pitched quiet, leaning a little into your space with an open expression. His hands were at his sides, not reaching out to touch you again, his fists clenched at his sides. Your eyes lingered on the way his mouth formed around the words and you swallowed the harsh ones you were about to fire back at him. All you could manage was a small nod.

That’s how you found yourself in the passenger side of his own truck, waiting in a short line of a drive through.

Once your fries, and some for him too, had been passed through the window, he was following the spoken instructions to your house. Watching the way you watched things pass by the window as you munched on the salty treat in your lap out of the corner of his eye. The dried blood on your split knuckles making his stomach lurch as he thought of that man putting his hands on you and the look on your face when you tried to flee. The look on your face when you had run into him, eyes wide and panicked.

You had calmed down, now in a lazy mood after the adrenaline packed events of the night.

“You do know what you’re doin’, just don’t think I’ve ever said it out loud ‘fore now.”

“Hmm?” You rolled your head along the back of the seat to face him, bringing a fry up to the seal of your mouth as you did so. He had to look away from the sight, your entire body and demeanor relaxed. Your expression was so open and curious, eyes soft as you looked over at him. Containing none of the animosity and worry he seemed to pull from you at work as you looked him over. He was in a pair of dark wash jeans that his thighs looked good in as he drove, a simple white Henley for a shirt. It allowed for the tan of his skin to pop, the grays that speckled his hair looking good in the lights of passing cars and lamps.

“You-uh-you, nevermind.” Joel’s deep voice wavered before he cut off, not being able to handle the earnest gaze you had pinned him with, his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“Mkay, whatever you say.” You turned back to look out with window, letting him know that your complex was around the corner.

He parked along the curb beside the gate that opened up into the parking lot. Watching him as he hopped out of the cab and toward your side of the vehicle, his expression hard to read. He was opening the door and leaning into the can to undo your seatbelt. Not wanting to risk you trying to do it and spill your fries, knowing you would probably tear up at the mishap should it occur. He said as much under his breath when you asked him what he was doing and you couldn’t help the giggles that bubbled up from your chest as you agreed with him, it would be tragic.

Once unbuckled, he reached for the fries in your hand and put them back in the bag they came in, tucking it into your purse that was still across your body.

“Will you let me help you step down?”

At your nod, his hands came around your waist, the wideness of them allowing his fingers to span across your back in a tantalizing way. He lifted you a little, holding most of your weight as you hopped down from the cab. His arms tensed around you as you felt yourself wobble, forgetting you were in heels for the entirety of the drive. Another round of giggles bubbled up and you found yourself leaning more into Joel’s space. His body was warm where you were pressed up against his front, the scent of cedar stronger tonight than it had been all those nights ago when he insisted on making you food to take home.

“I wish you liked me.” You spoke quietly into his neck, lips brushing against the skin there as you did so.

You felt his fingers twitch where they held onto you before you were pulled back a little so he could look down at you.

“Darlin’, I do like you, that’s the problem.”

“Doesn’t have to be.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling yourself closer to him.

“You’re not in the right state to be talkin’ about this right no-“

Surging up, you smothered the words from his lips with your own. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back. As if he was unable to stop himself despite the words he had just been ushering. It was all teeth and tongue, sparking heat that pooled low in your middle. A whimper sounded in the air, Joel swallowing it as he licked into your mouth. Your nails dug into the curls at the base of his neck and you pulled.

A deep groan rumbled through his chest and you pulled away to catch your breath, looking at the face of the man who had been consuming your thoughts for weeks now.

He looked back at you, took in the way your eyes were blown out and dilated, the puffiness of your swollen lips, the quick breaths you were taking to recover from his mouth on yours, the heat that he was causing was all consuming and you knew that he could feel through your skin underneath his hands. He was swooping back down to capture your lips, his hands moving up to cradle your face in his hands as he did so and you melted at the action.

Consciousness hit you like a jolt and you were shooting up from your bed. The covers fell from you to pool around your waist, and you looked around the room, nothing looked out of place but something felt off, so incredibly off. Your bag was on the bedside table, an empty greasy bag crumpled beside it and your lips were tingling with the memory of pressing them against someone else’s.

“Oh, fuck.”

You had drunkenly kissed your boss.

And he had kissed you back.

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#dev writes #fic: garnish #the last of us #the last of us au #tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfic #tlou au #restaurant au #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #chef joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #food industry #restaurant lingo #chef! joel x bartender! reader #joel is still a meanie #tommy miller #line cook joel miller #joel miller's hands #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 fic #archive of our own #secret relationship #work dynamics

[wildheartfreespirited]

Sunday night smoke session before I get ready for bed. Gotta get laundry put away and get the rest out of the dryer, then I can lay down. Guess I'll go ahead and find me a good porno to watch when I lay down, that way I don't fall asleep while browsing like I usually do 🤣💯😴🤷🏼‍♀️

#me #my thoughts #seriously though #sunday night smoke session #true story #sleepy #self care #self love #goodvibezzz

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

even in those quiet moments, i hear your voice

elriel month prompt six: words unspoken

NSFW.

Another Secret Dating Modern AU installment. Read other fics in the series here

It was the laziest of Sundays, but it had been a while since Azriel had spent the entire morning in bed. He probably hadn’t done so since his teen years, when he’d sneak out of the house with Cass and Rhys and binge drink the cheap beer they’d bought with a fake ID in the local park all night, coming home just before the sun rose and sleeping the entire following day away. But honestly, if all his mornings included Elain Archeron tangled in his sheets, her jasmine scented hair splashed across his pillows and soft skin pressed up against his, he would do it more often. 

Azriel had never thought he’d be the type of guy to be down so bad for a girl, but the more layers of Elain he got to uncover, the more he realised he was made for someone like her. The broody guy who loitered in shadows, falling for the sunshine flower girl. He snorted at the absolute irony of it.

He’d promptly ignored the incessant texts from Cassian at seven am, his brother hounding him to meet at the gym for a session. It wasn’t going to happen. Not today. Today he was going to do nothing but lounge around with his girl. She’d been busy all week with work and assignments, and he’d barely gotten a chance to see her. 

If it was just their schedules that kept them apart, he may have been more compliant in her absence, but they had the unfortunate burden of also having to sneak around their nosy siblings. He loved that Elain was so close with her sisters, and he with his brothers. After all, they were all each other had.

Their little group had only grown closer since Rhys and Feyre had introduced them all, and he loved the bonds he shared with each, but sometimes they were all just so damn clingy.

He chuckled, wondering what their group must look like to outsiders. Probably something like the Cullen’s… Azriel grimaced, it was Elain’s fault he even knew that reference.

Elain had come over late last night after a dinner shift at the restaurant. Tired and cranky, she had dumped her bags in the doorway and made a beeline straight for his shower, complaining she smelled of fried calamari and beer. Azriel had laughed, thinking she was being melodramatic. She always smelt fucking amazing. 

She had emerged from his tiny ensuite twenty minutes later, wrapped in an oversized towel with her hair thrown up in a messy bun and steam wafting out of the door behind her like tendrils of smoke. It had taken all his willpower not to stalk over to her, whip that towel off her body and throw her onto the bed. Fuck, she was gorgeous.

She had further sealed his fate, driving home the final nail in the I Love Elain Archeron coffin, when she’d gone rummaging through one of his drawers. She’d turned around with a proud grin on her face when she’d found what she was looking for; an old band tee he’d had since college. Throwing on the faded tee she loved to sleep in so much, she’d curled up in bed beside him, giving him a soft peck on the cheek before settling in. 

Azriel’s eyes had almost rolled into the back of his head. She smelled like his shower gel, and that, paired with the oversized t-shirt she wore, had him internally peacocking in some fucked up, masculine alpha-male type of way. Whatever. He loved seeing Elain in his clothes, even if that did make him some sort of primitive, territorial bastard. She tucked herself into his side and Azriel had all but beamed in male pride.

He’d thrown on a Netflix movie for them to watch, but it had barely been ten minutes in before she had fallen asleep, her face pressed into his chest as her breath fanned across his skin. He’d simply smiled down at her and pulled her closer, rubbing a hand down her back, bringing his palm to rest at her waist. He’d let her sleep, his own eyes growing heavy as the warmth from her tiny form drifted over him and lulled him into a peaceful slumber not long after.

The following morning, he'd awoken early but remained in bed, not wanting to disentangle himself from the limbs she had wrapped around him in their sleep. Elain dozed peacefully as he looked over at her, and not being able to resist her thrall any longer, he gingerly rolled over onto his side. Gently pushing aside the hair that had slid over her face, scarred fingertips fluttering over her serene expression, he pressed the softest of kisses to her nose.

She didn’t stir.

He leant forward again, peppering her face with feather-light kisses, brushing his lips lightly over her cheeks, her eyes, her temples, her jaw. 

With a deep exhale and a stretch of her legs, Elain’s eyes finally fluttered open, blinking as she adjusted to the light. The soft morning sunlight filtered through his window and gilded her hair in streaks of brilliant gold and honey brown. He couldn’t help but gape in awe at her, she’d never looked more beautiful.

“Morning,” she croaked, her voice still thick from sleep, face half buried in the pillow. 

His lips twitched into the ghost of a soft smile. Elain had breezed into his life just a few months ago, but in that short amount of time, she’d managed to awaken something deep within him that had long been slumbering. Something he had not even been sure he would ever possess, that vulnerable ability to open oneself up to another person entirely and just… trust. Yet here she was, making him fall head over heels for her in close to no time at all.

Beneath the rumpled sheets, she hitched a leg to rest over his hip and his skin prickled in response, delighted at her proximity.

He smirked, running a hand down her smooth thigh. “Morning, tater-tot.” 

She chuckled at the ridiculous nickname, and Azriel catalogued that laugh to memory. He couldn’t recall how it had started but every day since they’d been together, he’d think up of a new— albeit random— nickname to call her. She laughed every time, often remarking about the increasing ridiculousness of the names he gave her. He liked to keep her on her toes that way, and tater-tots were cute. Only psychopaths didn’t love potatoes.

Snaking an arm around her waist as his other hand gripped the thigh she had hitched on his hip, he tugged Elain across the sheets and into his embrace. Plunging his hand into her thick hair, he angled her face and kissed her, lazy and slow.

Her soft body melted into him as she sighed into it, kissing him back decadently as her hand came up from beneath the sheets to cup his cheek. He shuffled even closer to her, sidling up beside her, pressing their chests together. Elain in turn shifted, hitching her leg higher on his waist, sinking deeper into his sheets, all but mewling at his unhurried attention.

Azriel felt her delicate fingers creep up to card in the hair at the nape of his neck, her tongue laving at the seam of his lips. He opened for her, allowing his tongue to lazily caress hers as he kissed her, nice and slow, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth gently. 

A small whimper escaped her throat, her hips canting softly into his, and that was all it took to spur him into action. Gripping her thigh in his palm, Azriel rolled them over, settling himself on top of her, his hips cradled in the soft space she created for him between her split thighs. 

He tore his lips from hers, a true testament to his will. Or perhaps it was just proof of his hedonistic desire to simply stare at the way Elain was sprawled out beneath him, that debauched urge all but demanding he visually engross himself in how tantalizing she looked whilst spread out in his bed. 

She always looked beautiful, but there was something about this moment; the way her doe eyes would soften, the way her hair would lay tousled around her, the adorable pink flush colouring her cheeks… he would never tire of it. If he had any talent with a paintbrush or skill behind a lens, he would capture it to keep forever, but instead it was another thing he promised to commit to memory.

Holding himself above her, a muscled forearm resting on the pillow beside her head, Elain merely gazed up at him, a small, secret smile blooming across her lovely face. They never needed words, and yet they could always discern what the other conveyed. In the short time they’d been together, they’d become so proficient at quietly observing each other, they could often converse simply with a pointed look across the room or a subtle twitch of an expression. He loved that. He loved feeling seen by Elain, and in turn documenting her every little quirk, interpreting the meaning of each one of her silent cues. He intended to be proficient in the unspoken language of Elain Archeron and nothing could sway his determination.

He was so fucking done for.

Elain drew her arms up, slinging them about his shoulders, hands hanging limply behind him as her fingertips brushed his shoulder blades. Goosebumps erupted across his skin, and he couldn’t help but sink into her warm embrace, her body so supple and welcoming beneath him. 

The old t-shirt she wore had ridden up around her hips, and as he drew himself closer to kiss her, he pressed his hips firmly into the warm centre of her.

Something akin to a squeak escaped her lips, causing her in turn to wrap her long legs around his waist. He marvelled at her warmth, relished in doing nothing but exist in Elain’s hold. Kissing her deeply, keeping his machinations unhurried and languid, he couldn’t help but think he would happily live and die in this very spot. 

Shifting beneath him, Elain’s hands trailed up his body and dove into his hair, deepening the kiss as her thighs split imperceptibly wider, allowing his rapidly hardening cock to nestle snuggly against her. She loved it. She let loose a little breath, her back arching at the increased pressure on her sensitive folds. She bit his lip gently, unable to control the pleasure slowly building, and rolled her hips, seeking more friction where she needed it the most.

Azriel chuckled, pulling back once more to look down at her. Her pupils were blown wide, all traces of sleepiness gone. In its place was a sultry, sexual profligacy, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she gazed back up at him.

“Az, I need… uh!” she trailed off at a particularly delicious roll of his hips.

Azriel tenderly brushed the golden strands of hair that had fallen into her face. “I know, baby,” he cooed, placating her with another languorous thrust of his hips, benevolently rolling into her, burying her deeper into his sheets with the motion.

Elain’s mouth popped open, her eyes heavy lidded, the brown of her irises sparkling with desire behind them. He lived to see her pleasure splashed across her face.

Running a hand down his chiselled abdomen, Elain pried open the waistband of his underwear and eased one slight hand beneath the cotton. Her fingers were exploratory, fondling him lightly before finally wrapping them around his shaft. His head flopped heavily between his shoulders at her touch, his mouth falling open with an exhale. 

Her touch immediately sent sparks of pleasure ricocheting through his veins, her fingers well practiced in his preferences. The pressure she applied was just how he liked it. Fuck.

Gathering his wits, he gripped the hem of the tee she wore and slowly pulled it up her torso, exposing her iridescent skin one slow inch at a time. Her grip around him tightened, unhurriedly stroking the hard length of him. 

Pulling the shirt up to her collarbones and exposing her breasts, his mouth watered at the sight of her curves, her peaked nipples ready and waiting for him to steal a taste. Lowering his face to her chest, he puckered his lips around the hardened bud of one, his tongue laving hungrily at her skin. A soft cry escaped her as she flung her head back into her pillow, her back arching beautifully.

The movement allowed him to twine a hand beneath her, pressing his palm firmly against her back to push her breasts into his face, effectively smothering himself in the swell of her curves.

Releasing her nipple from his mouth with a soft pop, Azriel licked his way across the valley of her breasts to the other side, lavishing the second with the same attention. He traced a broad hand around her waist and up to cup her breast, sinful fingers replacing where his mouth had just been, his tongue continuing to lick and suck at her chest with a reverence he reserved solely for Elain. He moaned at the taste, the scent and feel of her skin engulfing his senses completely.

He sucked and pulled and licked at her skin, teeth nipping the sensitive swells of her breasts until he’d left several blooming violet marks splashed lovingly across her chest. He knew she loved the little reminders of his passion, that the thought of wearing his love bites hidden beneath her clothes excited her. And he loved giving them to her. He could never get enough.

A short yelp escaped her at a particularly enthusiastic pass of his teeth against her hard nipple.

Seemingly decided she was done with being teased into oblivion, Elain had grown increasingly needy and pointedly pulled his cock free from his boxer briefs, stroking him with increased fervour.

She gripped him hard and twisted her hand around his shaft, just how he fucking liked it. Azriel shivered at her touch, hazily admiring the way she was able to work him up just as effectively as he had her. His blood pounded in his ears as he grew almost painfully hard, his cock leaking and standing at attention.

Elain continued to expertly stroke him, whilst the fingers of her other hand twined in his hair. Administering a sharp pull, the tug caused him to reluctantly tear his mouth away from her plush breasts.

He crooked a brow at her insistence, injecting a low timbre in his voice he knew drove Elain wild. “Yes?”

Her only answer was another soft whine as he pointedly rolled into her dripping folds again, her own hand still wrapped around his cock adding to the friction.

He gazed down at her, a smug grin blooming across his lips at the desperation he saw leaching from her. Her chocolate brown eyes smouldered and she all but trembled with want, his hips pinning her resolutely beneath him.

He watched the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed thickly, the way her nipples had turned a bright pink from his ministrations, how her kiss-swollen lips parted as her breath panted out before her. She gazed at him how a hungry beast may observe its prey, and he knew that same desire was reflected in his own eyes. Stooping down for one last peck to the little dip between her collarbones, he settled onto his forearms, pressing his chest flush against hers.

Sensing her small hands fumble to line up his cock at her needy entrance, Elain exhaled contentedly, eyes beautifully fluttering into the back of her skull as he began to sink slowly into her. 

So soft. She was always so fucking soft, and tight and warm for him. And wet. She was so fucking wet.

He shuddered above her, pausing halfway, allowing her to adjust to the intrusion before he continued. Biting her lip, she slung her arms over his shoulders once more and urged him onwards with a small tilt of her hips, imploring him to go deeper. Silently begging him for more.

Rolling his hips into hers, she cried out as he finally pushed all the way in, her slickened walls enveloping him deliciously as she trembled beneath him. She looked up at him with that burning desire they both felt so acutely written across her face, her teeth sensually sinking into her plush bottom lip. She all but begged him to move, her eyes expressing everything she needn’t voice.

Pressing a kiss to her jaw, her neck, behind her ear, he nuzzled his face into her silken hair as he started to move. 

Rocking in and out of her slowly, he lengthened his strokes, feeling her clench deliciously around him with each pass. Her arms came to wrap around his middle and her nails scraped down his shoulder blades, a sure sign that Elain was holding herself back from tumbling over that edge too soon. He knew she wanted him to come with her. Knew she loved it when they found their pleasure simultaneously in a puddle of heaving chests and garbled pleas. He’d let her have it, but he wasn’t going to make it easy for her.

Edging their way ever closer to their pleasure, he continued to plunge impossibly deeper into her, over and over, the feeling of her delicate muscles beginning to flutter around him. Their chests had grown slick with sweat causing them to slide against each other with each stroke, only adding to the debauched eroticism. Knowing she loved the stimulation to her nipples, loved his weight atop her, he pressed her more firmly into the mattress beneath them as he continued fucking into her. 

“God— Az!” 

It was a desperate, reverent plea, her fingernails scraping down the skin of his back leaving red marks in their wake.

Elain attempted to clasp her knees together, her taught thighs pressing into his sides as he continued to drive into her wet heat. Pulling his face from its resting place nuzzled against her neck, he lay his forehead against hers. 

Their hot breathes mingled in the space between them, gasps and moans falling from their lips as Azriel drove into her over and over, as deep as he could possibly go. Nudging that elusive knot of nerves he knew would have Elain seeing stars with every drive of his pelvis, a small cry bubbled from between her lips, her fingertips digging into his muscled back as he pounded into her. 

Feeling his own orgasm looming, he swiped his tongue into her mouth, catching the whimpers and cries she let loose like they sustained his very lifeblood.

Trying and failing to hold his composure, his movements grew sloppy and frantic as they both hurtled toward their climax, their bodies slamming together and edging ever closer to that summit. His head emptied of all other thoughts but Elain, Elain, Elain; and with one final, heavy thrust, she cried out, her face twisting into a pageant of pleasure. 

Her hands clutched frantically at his biceps as she came around his cock, her breath catching in her throat as her plump lips opened into a pretty O. The sounds of her orgasm reached their crescendo, and only moments passed before Azriel was following closely behind.

With a stuttered grunt and an echo of her name he spilled into her, her folds fluttering around his shaft, her tight inner muscles heightening his pleasure.

His mind short-circuited in his bliss, but he focused on the feel of her flushed breasts pressed beneath him, their mingled releases dribbling around him, her breath fanning across his sweaty face. Elain. He could never fucking get enough.

They remained tangled around one another and panting. Brown and hazel eyes screwed shut, but parted lips softly grazing the others’ as he sloppily rocked them through the final throes of their pleasure. 

Azriel’s arms gave way as he slumped heavily into Elain’s embrace, her tense muscles now softening and turning pliant once more. She glistened with sweat, the golden-brown hair at her temples curling against her glowing skin.

His mind had gone blank. Utterly quiet in the wake of his climax. All except for one thought that emerged from the heady fog: this. 

This. This. This.

This is how he wanted to spend all his days. With her. Irretrievably intertwined in each other. Warm, safe, peaceful. In their own little haven of quiet understanding and unbridled desire. The way she understood him, saw him, without the need of any unnecessary words. 

Yes, this was fucking it. He’d never be able to go back to life without her.

As the haze of passion cleared, he became conscious of his entire bulky frame completely smothering his tiny girlfriend beneath him. Fuck, he was probably crushing her lungs.

Pressing a chaste kiss to the hollow of her throat he attempted to pull their sweat-slicked bodies apart, but she only mumbled something that sounded like not yet and pulled him soundly back on top of her, wrapping her legs securely around his waist to hold him in place. 

Ok then, he wasn’t going to argue.

Instead, Azriel just smiled into her neck, gently brushing the hair away from her face as he murmured into her skin, “Love you, too.”

She only hugged him tighter.

*******

A special thanks to @tswaney17 for helping me pull this out of the trash💚

EM tag list:

@waternymphia

@shedoessoshedoes

@nightcourtseer

@tealeaves-and-rosepetals

@jasmineandshadows

@zdenkah

@dottielovegood

@casuallivi

@azrielslight

@ultadverb

@tswaney17

@batboyazriel

@duskwhisperer

@thoughtsaboutshows

@mardereads19

@a-frog-with-a-laptop

@123moiaussi

@reverie-tales

@britishwings

@glasscupsss

@gracie-rosee

@massiveattackangel

@thesistersarcheron

@dreamsandwings

@shadowflorecita

@elainsweetcobalt

@demarogue

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@elrielbaby

@happy-go-lucky-fangirl

@nivem565

@broodybatboy

@edanmaia

@booksnightowl

@saz-griffin

@swankii-art-teacher

@elriel-month

#elriel month 2023 #t writes #elriel #elriel fic #prompt six: words unspoken #acotar #elain x azriel #elriel month #acotar fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #secret dating modern au #elriel smut #smut

[aesthetic-is-life]

GOM Headcanon

Kise

He has very dry skin. He follows his skin care religiously

He has both a huge prize AND degredation kink.

Every thursday he goes to Caribbean dances and has a regular partner for the bachata

He got a degree in something with fashion and marketing. Still working as a model and influencer during the college years.

After he goes works with his sisters in their fashion company

He and Midorima fucked few times between the Teiko and the High school

He's a little bit of a whore (especially at the club half drunk)

Absolutely adores to give orals. Yes let me suck you off sir please

Very good at it

Had a huge crush for Aomine during Teiko, but nothing happened

His romantic relationship never last long (monogamy problem)

He is poly

Feels trapped in a monogamous relationship

Very closed to his sister in the adult age

Vegetarian (vegan at home)

Has a little tattoo for each miracles (like a frog for Midorima, a cherry flower for Momoi..)

Akashi

Lactose intollerant

Aroace King (kise told him about ace people and Midorima confirmed the existence)

Degree in philosophy

Sojio professional player just for saying he has a job (not really need one)

After the winter cup he had pretty bad episodes of depression and eaten alive from his guilt.

But with the power of friendship (Mibuchi had called the miracles for and intervention) and therapy he got better

He would need a heavy session of consensual BDSM (he subs)

He and his dad ignore each other basically

Didn't took well the death of his horse, and after that doesn't want any more pets

He and Midorima suggest books each other

Doesn't drink, but can handle alcool pretty good

He play golf with the mother side of the family

Totally an addicted to

Only the Gom knows that he was diagnoed DID (dissocative identity disorder)

He would be a perfect menwife

Doesn't like to drive

Midorima

Doctor bccouse his daddy told him to

He and Takao got married at some point

His best man was Akashi

His dad was kind of homophobic, but had a change of heart

For each birthday he does the the natal chart of all the Gom + takao and Kagami

Can't hendle alcool (no at all, like half beer and he is WASTED)

Takao is an architect and he designed their house

Doesn't talk before his coffe

Morning person (after the coffe), Takao is not

Still listen to the oroscop every morning and brings the luck item (Takao is forced to have his too)

Has a thing for dirt talk (Takao doesn't complaint)

Still play piano and composes song for Takao

Would like to have a kid or two

Rei Ryugazaki (from free!) are cousins

Every sunday the have a lunch with the over miracles in their home

Aomine

His career in the NBA (because yes he entred) has benn pretty short for injuries

so he come back in Japan and makes the delivery for the flower/ plant shop of Sakurai.

in the US he and kagami lived togher, but they were in diffrent teams

He adoped a dog he found on the side of a road

Really like beers of all kind and flavors

Decent cook

He and Kuroko fucked everywhere in Teiko. But like everywhere, not corridor, bathroom, storege room or class was safe (they enjoyed)

He and Kagami had drunk and angry sex in the US times

Prefers women (boobs)

As an adult he went to therapy and understood what was wrong during the last years in middle school (depression time)

He and Momoi are big fan of horror movies

Very warm person

Can't stand gloves

Kuroko

Cold hands

He and Kagami moved in together, but neither of them belives in marriege

Kuroko would love a cat, but Kagami is allergic

He works in a kindergarten

and come home full of drawings of the kids

Doesn't want to have children though

Exhibitionist kink

Having sex is a park in the middle of the night

Kagami usually cooks and he drives

Brings his kindle everywhere with him

He smokes a little (like two or three cigarette per day)

Murasakibara

Chronic back pain and at the joint because he grew up too fast

Acne and bad skin in general because he eats to much chocolate and sweets in general

Became a pastry chef

He, Himuro and Kagami opened a nice coffe shop

The type with cultural events, book crossing and stuff

Doesn't really like having sex. He finds it really tiring

He and Himuro have an open relationship

Ass eater king. Not a big fan of penetrative sex because he dosent't want to hurt Himuro with his huge cock.

Has a little aquarium and adores stares at the fish

Can't swim

He got diabetes at some point

Momoi

She got a degree in statistic and after a very high paid job

When Baribe went out, she and Kise went all pink

In her highshool years she did something with some girls, but she found it pretty wet. Prefers small and cute boys

Seirously considering breast reduction surgey

She and Sakurai are together

They have an adorable little dog

When Aomine was in US they used to videocall every fucking day

She and Kise are the queens of gossip

Never had smth physical with Kuroko

Very good at videgames (had a youtube chanal)

especially the shooting ones

Wears high heels at work

Adores cherry

Allergic to something stupid like kiwi or apple

During college she made a lot of female friends

Pretty dominant in bed

Good at drawing

#kuroko no basket #knb #gom #knb headcanon #gom headcanon #kise ryōta #akashi seijuro #headcanon akashi #kise headcanon #takao x midorima #midorima headcanon #midorima shintarou #aomine × kagami #aomine daiki #aomine headcanon #aomine x kuroko #kuroko tetsuya #kuroko headcanon #kuroko x kagami #they are so cute #momoi satsuki #momoi headcanon #akashi needs therapy #murasakibara atsushi #himuro x murasakibara

[luna-moon-26-20]

Foxhole Force Episode Guide

Hi everyone! Since season 1 is finished I thought I'd write an episode guide and add it to the collection of information of the story.

Feel free to share it as many times as you want so we can spread the knowledge about this series and maybe bring new readers to enjoy the AU 🙌🏻

(I think I avoided all major spoilers)

SEASON 1 - LIST OF EPISODES

S1 E1: Call of the Fox (Part 1)

Neil Josten arrives at the City of Palmetto in a last attempt to find his mother alive. After getting attacked by Ravens and saved by mysterious warriors in colorful suits, Neil finds a job at the Foxhole Court, a sports Youth Centre meant to be a safe haven for kids in risky situations.

S1 E2: Call of the Fox (Part 2)

After finding out his coworkers at the Foxhole Court were actually the Power Rangers, Neil gets roped into the team when he merges with the spirit of the Red Fox, becoming the new Red Power Ranger. Despite trying to refuse the responsibility, Neil accepts it and stays in the city long enough to join the battle against the Ravens.

S1 E3: What it takes to be a leader

Neil feels slightly ridiculous and lost when he morphs for the second time after the Ravens find a new target at the beach. When Coach tells him he is supposed to be the leader of the team, he argues that Kevin would be better suited for the job. 

S1 E4: A done deal

Neil has trouble morphing into the Red Ranger and is forced to stay behind while the others go out to fight a new monster and the Ravens. Later, Andrew ropes Neil into a fake training session where he interrogates him. After getting berated by Coach, Neil and Andrew come to an understanding.

S1 E5: Unexpected allies

Neil runs into some trouble searching for his mother. Lieutenant Mureau and a new perfect Raven are sent to destroy the Rangers for their constant interference. They almost succeed but a new and unexpected ally wearing the same outfit as the Rangers prevents it from happening. 

S1 E6: There’s no I in TEAM

The team hits a wall when their dysfunctional dynamic causes a target to get hurt and taken by the Ravens. The Rangers have no idea where the Ravens continue to produce these terrible monsters from but they are strong and difficult to fight, especially because now the Ravens can make them grow as tall as buildings. 

S1 E7: A dead end

The Ravens decide to ruin the team’s Sunday plans when they attack a local school that is holding a science fair at the gym. The Rangers pour themselves into the battle, trying to protect the students and teachers present, and even the Black Ranger makes an appearance to help them. 

S1 E8: Smoke and… mirrors?

The team is unbalanced and fractured but the Youth Centre has to remain open for the kid’s sake and they have a fundraising to host in the middle of which there is a Raven alert. Neil gets trapped and relives some of the trauma from his past. He vows to recruit the Black Ranger into the team.

S1 E9: A fool’s errand

Neil is having an off day in which he keeps butting heads with his coworkers at the Youth Centre. The distance between him and the Red Fox is wider than ever. He sets himself on a mission destined to fail as he tries to recruit the Black Ranger into the team. He and Andrew end the day on pretty unfriendly terms and Neil feels more isolated than ever from the rest of the team.

S1 E10: Neil who? (Part 1)

A Raven alert wakes the team in the middle of the night and they are introduced to Captain Engle, a new perfect Raven stronger and faster than any other they have encountered. The Red Fox is tired and hurt and not even the Black Ranger can help Neil get rid of Mureau.

S1 E11: Neil who? (Part 2)

Alone and unmorphed, Neil faces off against Riko. Riko turns his world upside down by revealing the thing he’s been after and that he believes Neil knows its whereabouts. Later, Andrew helps Neil out of a panic attack but also gives him an ultimatum.  

S1 E12: A Swift exchange

As he recovers from his injuries, Neil is faced with the deadline Andrew has set. Kevin starts acting weird: violent and angry. He begins to transform into a Raven, injuring Andrew in his attempt to escape and save everyone from himself. 

S1 E13: Between a rock and a hard place 

Neil and Andrew, on a quest to find the truth behind the Ravens and Neil’s family, go to the library together. But the building collapses on them leaving them trapped underneath. With nothing else to do but wait, they play a long round of their truth for truth game. 

S1 E14: How to kill two birds with no stone at all

The City of Palmetto is more dangerous than ever when the Ravens decide to change their modus operandi. Neil starts doubting their protectors’ role and asks about a cure for Ravens no one believes exists. Discouraged, he goes into battle hesitating until it becomes clear that it is either kill or be killed. He discovers some coincidences about Kevin’s past.

S1 E15: The Red Fox

The team runs into an energy source so powerful the monitors at the Command Centre go crazy with alarms. In a desperate attempt to stop the Ravens from getting it, Neil touches the source and the amount of energy affects him in unimaginable ways. Scared and injured, he follows his instincts towards Andrew who is the only one who knows how to handle him. 

S1 E16: A quiet state of mind

Neil has to spend an entire day without his Fox. Alone and at the verge of constant panic, he is too happy to spend the day with Andrew in Columbia as a distraction. Neil becomes aware of a certain way in which he is starting to think about the blond. The Rangers respond to an alert in which Matt singlehandedly deals with the monster.

S1 E17: All for the game

An alert brings the team face to face with a monster that traps them in another dimension to play a deathly game of exy. With the way the Black Ranger plays and fights, Neil starts to suspect Andrew might be the Back Ranger. He confronts Andrew on the roof and the night takes an unexpected turn.

S1 E18: Don’t ask for the truth

Neil lives a couple of weeks in pure bliss as he and Andrew delve more into the new nature of their relationship. However, the appearance of a woman from Andrew’s past changes the course of their day into one of tense emotional reactions and a complete emotional withdrawal from Andrew.   

S1 E19: Black Danger (Part 1)

After two long weeks of absence, Andrew finally comes back to the Centre. After a panic attack from Neil because he doesn’t want to fail his duties again, the team faces Muldani on the beach. The Youth Centre is attacked by Riko and all his perfect Ravens. Andrew gets hurt and Abby declares he is trapped inside his own mind.

S1 E20: Black Danger (Part 2)

Neil ventures into Andrew’s mind to try and bring the blond back from wherever he is trapped inside. Going through Andrew’s memories, Neil is faced with several sides of the blond that leave him unsteady and worried. He gets some unexpected help during his quest to find Andrew.

#all for the game #aftg #neil josten #power rangers #andreil #andrew minyard

[even-disco-baby]

SAVOIR FAIRE — You might not get another chance to talk with him like this. Ask him about himself! Get to know him!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — *Really* get to know him.

YOU — “So… you’re an artist?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He looks at you with genuine surprise. “I… was a student. How did you know that, gendarme?”

YOU — “Your Sunday friend mentioned it.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Did he, now?” He lifts an eyebrow. “And what did he tell you?”

EMPATHY — He seems skeptical, but it isn’t aimed at you.

YOU — “He said you were deeply enmeshed in all of the fine arts.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His smile turns a little wry. “How very… characteristic of him.”

DRAMA — By which he means, “That prick really doesn’t listen to anything I tell him,” sire.

YOU — “Is that… not true?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “No, gendarme,” he says, and despite his smile, he sounds sad. “I wouldn’t say I’m *enmeshed* so much as hanging by a thread. The atelier school across the river holds public figure drawing sessions, and I make the trip when I can, but… I haven’t been enrolled as a proper student in a long while.”

YOU — “Why not?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He chuckles, tapping his cigarette on the edge of the railing. “Take a wild guess.”

LOGIC — There’s a reason that this man and the atelier school are on opposite sides of the river.

YOU — “…Money?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Beautiful. Got it in one.” He shrugs lightly. “Art costs money, artists have none. It’s a tale as old as time, gendarme.”

EMPATHY — It hurts him more than he cares to admit. He feels foolish for ever having dreamt of anything more than this. He’s long since accepted that this is as good as it gets: a cigarette under the stars, a skyline that fills him both with fondness and resignation.

INLAND EMPIRE — Have you ever loved anything like that? Past the point of resentment. Falling and loving the pit for how it catches you. For all the people at the bottom alongside you, trying to make it feel like home.

“I’m sorry. I hope you can go back someday.”

“Art shouldn’t be about money, anyway. A hungry artist is an artist with integrity!”

“Maybe you should consider a career change? Maybe I should, too. I’m even more broke than you are.”

“Is art not, at its core, about sharing an experience with others? Is every moment that we connect with another person not a performance of love and humanity? Is every sketch you hold onto not an experience that you are hoping to share with your future self? Your connection to the arts can never truly be severed. You are forever enmeshed.”

What the hell is up with that last one? Can’t I say it in a less pretentious way?

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Pretentious?! That came straight from the heart, you hack! But fine. If you want to sound like a total pleb, be my guest.

YOU — “I think you can be an artist even without the fancy atelier. A thread is still a thread.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He considers you for a long moment, his expression difficult to read with the city lights behind him. Then his eyes slide down to the cigarette butts at his feet, and he smiles again.

“I didn’t peg you as an optimist,” he says with the barest trace of a chuckle. “But… maybe you’re right. I’m not sure I could do the whole art career thing if it meant…” His sentence trails into the night with the smoke from his cigarette.

EMPATHY — “If it meant becoming a Sunday friend to Martinaise.” That’s what he was going to say.

YOU — “Maybe it doesn’t have to be a career. Maybe you can just be your beautiful self in beautiful Martinaise.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He laughs suddenly. Not his usual knowing chuckle, a *real* laugh. One that even he wasn’t expecting. “You think Martinaise is beautiful, gendarme?”

EMPATHY — He isn’t making fun of you. You just took him aback. In a good way.

YOU — “I do.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His smile reaches his eyes this time. The deep lines around them crinkle into crow’s feet. “I do, too. I wish everyone could see it…”

YOU — “I think they will, someday. I think something beautiful is going to happen.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Hey, that’s pretty good. You should use that.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He tilts his head, regarding you thoughtfully.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Almost like a painter examining his canvas, looking for potential.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “…I think maybe something beautiful is already happening for you, gendarme,” he says softly.

VOLITION — Maybe so. You hope so.

#disco elysium #the smoker on the balcony #harry du bois #smoking tw #am i projecting onto the smoker on the balcony as an art student dropout? maybe. as a treat

[klbwriting]

Not Romeo, Not Juliet

Chapter 6 - Life's Key

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: none, this is just friendship building fluff

Summary: Jason goes to meet YN at the playground

Keep thy friend / Under thy own life’s key.

— ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL, ACT 1 SCENE 1

Jason spent most of Saturday getting new gear together. He wasn’t going to let one run in with some thugs stop him from keeping Crime Alley, or just YN in general, safe. He needed to update somethings, get a kit he could keep on him at all times, and get something sturdier than an old hockey mask. He called around, finding some grappling equipment, smoke bombs, a couple knives, and finally a helmet that he could wear that would protect his whole head. It took about 2 hours to gather everything and hide it in the garage where Dick wouldn’t go looking. And Dick was a suspicious fuck at the moment.

“So, this fight, was it the same jock again?” Dick asked over breakfast on Sunday morning after spending all Saturday at a work function and just generally avoiding Jason. He assumed that Dick was waiting for him to come to his big brother to talk, but after his disparaging remarks against YN Jason didn’t really want to do that.

“Yup,” he said, emphasizing the p. Dick sighed at the curt answer, so Jason elaborated, having had time to flesh out this story. “I was leaving school after practice, they were leaving after some football thing, guess they still keep going even though the season is over, and the one from before threw his helmet at me, that is where this is from.” He motioned to the bandage on his face. Dick worried his jaw, looking like a cow chewing grass.

“And you didn’t go to the hospital?” Dick asked. Jason stared at him. When had any of them ever gone to a hospital? Jason was pretty sure he was still considered legally dead in some places. Dick sighed. “Ya, that was dumb, realized that when I said it.” They sat in silence for several minutes, Jason pushing Dick’s horrible eggs around on his plate.

“I’m going to run lines tonight with some of the seniors from Hamlet,” he said, wanting to make the concerned look on Dick’s face go away. Let him think he had made friends with those assholes. “Thought you weren’t big fans of them after that whole open mic night prank?” he asked. Jason shrugged.

“I’m not, but they’re fine to work with on the play, plus there’s this junior playing Gertrude who is pretty, she’s going to be there,” he said. He wasn’t lying, the junior was pretty, but he had no interest in her. Plus, there wasn’t really a practice session going on that night anyway, he just needed an excuse to be out of the house that night.

“What is she like?” Dick asked. Shit, Jason hadn’t expected this. He scrambled.

“Um, she’s pretty, blonde, kind of a badass, carries a dagger, likes the Yankees, ya know, weird in a school full of douche bags,” he said, describing as best he could to describe Annabeth from the Percy Jackson series. If you going to describe a fictional crush might as well pull a real book girlfriend you wish you’d had. Dick nodded.

“Sounds like your type,” he said, smiling. “Glad you’ve found someone in your school.” Jason kept his face neutral but was confused. He never thought Dick was the classist type, but maybe that was why he was so against Jason spending time with YN. Would be a real dick move considering that Jason himself was once from that same gutter. Just because he got lucky (or stupid) and stole a couple tires didn’t mean he was anything better than YN. She was going to Gotham Academy for a reason, scholarship or maybe an arts grant if her acting was as good as her singing, so she definitely wasn’t just a random person on the street. None of this made sense to Jason and that made him angry.

“I have to do some homework, I’m going to head out, its stuffy in here,” he said, throwing a look to Dick. Dick looked confused but just nodded. Jason grabbed his back of tricks and his phone, checking again for another message from YN as he headed to the garage. She had sent the one message to meet and then stopped, not even confirming she’d gotten his reply. He wanted to go check on her, but once again, he wasn’t going to be a stalker, so he went to a nearby park instead.

After several hours of actually catching up on homework and reading through The Turn of the Screw for a lit class he let curiosity get the better of him. He pulled out his laptop again and booted up some of the software that Dick thought he didn’t know about. Nightwing needed to find people, and Oracle knew all the tricks, so Jason copied Dick’s hard drive and took them. Red Mask (name to be changed, that one still sucked) needed to find criminals too. He searched up YN’s name and found…nothing. She had a mother, no father listed, an address, no social media, no outstanding warrants, no bills even. The only person who had anything was her mother, who had ridiculous medical bills, but no rent to pay. Jason frowned. This screamed a mysterious benefactor. Who was helping them and why? He looked at his phone, seeing that he needed to head over to the playground, so he closed up shop and headed off, making sure to pick up some tacos on the way.

YN was sitting at the top of the slide when he arrived, climbing down the dumbwaiter shaft that used to seem a lot bigger when he was small. She smiled when she saw him, but quickly pretended to yawn, not looking in his direction anymore. He smiled a little, maybe he wasn’t the only one with a crush. She looked at her phone before sliding down.

“You’re late,” she said, crossing her arms. He held up the bag. “What is that?”

“Tacos?” he offered, holding it out to her. She opened it and moved to where her things were, sitting down on a blanket. “Thought we could eat first, and these are the best in Bludhaven.” She took one and handed him back the bag, producing two water bottles from her bag and cookies.

“My mom sometimes bakes on good days,” she said. Jason looked at the cookies and then at her, a questioning look on his face. He knew her mom was sick, but she didn’t know that. “My mom is sick, cancer, but some days she’s really active and today was one so I just thought I’d bring a snack…”

“Thank you,” Jason said, taking a cookie and biting it. He made a face. O these were amazing. “Holy shit.” She laughed.

“Ya, that’s typically the reaction,” she said, eating some of the taco. “Jesus, these are good too.”

“Ya, but I didn’t make those, although mine would be better,” he said. She gave him a quizzical look. “Hey, I cook a lot, when I lived with Bruce we had Alfred and he taught me everything I know.”

“Was he like the in-house chef?” she asked, finishing one and grabbing another as he chowed on the cookies. Jason shrugged.

“He was kind of everything. We didn’t have like a big staff or anything, just Alfred, everyone else came once a week or something to do cleaning or the gardens and shit,” he said. “Fuck I sound like such an ass.” YN shook her head.

“No, you don’t, that’s what you lived, you’re not an ass about it. Not like you’re bragging that you made this Alfred clean your dirty underwear or something. He taught you to cook, that’s nice,” she said. Jason smiled at her. “Now, how are your rehearsals going?”

“Trying to spy on the competition?” he asked. She raised her eyebrows at him. “They’re fine, although pretending to even Chelsea is difficult.” She laughed and pulled out MacBeth. “How are yours?”

“They’re fine, I’m having some trouble though, do you mind pretending to be my husband?” she asked. He chuckled.

“You ask me that without a ring?” he teased, walking over to her, taking the script she offered. Scene 1, Act 7. “Remember, I have only read this so my MacBeth will probably suck.”

“You can’t be any worse than the guy playing him at school,” she said. Jason nodded and let himself slid into the roll of the king tortured by destiny. YN was amazing as Lady MacBeth, and then Ophelia, or Horatio, or Polonius, she was a chameleon. After an hour or so of practicing they sat on the swings, competing to see who could jump off further. Then it was tag around the playground. Jason hadn’t let himself have fun like this since…well since he was playing there as a child. They finally settled back on the blanket sitting and leaning against each other.

“You’re amazing you know that?” he said suddenly, looking down at her leaning to his shoulder. “And just because you’re the best actress I’ve ever seen.” She blushed deeply.

“Thank you,” she said, taking the compliment easily. He watched her as she stared straight ahead, not looking at him. “You’re so flawless when you act,” she said softly. “Its like you can just sink into being another person, it’s a little scary honestly.” Jason sighed.

“When I was living with Bruce it was like I had to be two different people. He was most of the time an alright dad, but when he was in a mood, mostly when he was trying to teach me something, I had to be like a perfect son, a little carbon copy of him. It was like slipping into a mask, hiding who I was or who I wanted to be,” he explained, telling her things he’d only ever told his therapist. “And then I died…” He stopped and she looked at him.

“You…died?” she asked softly. He sighed.

“Yea, this past summer, the um accident I had, I died for a few minutes and it wasn’t Bruce’s fault, but I think afterwards he just, wasn’t right. Didn’t want to bother with my antics anymore. It broke something so now I’m still just trying to figure out who I was when I was his son and who I am now,” he said. “And Dick has been great, trying so hard to be a good brother and almost father, but even with him, I have to wear a mask still. The only person I really feel like I can be me around is you.” He felt a hand on his unbandaged cheek, he leaned into it.

“I feel similar,” YN said. Jason nodded for her to continue. “My mom, I have to be brave, even though she’s going to die, and soon, and I don’t have anyone else. I don’t know who my father is, we have no other family that knows I exist. Apparently, my mom was still a teenager and had some kind of affair with a married man. And despite the fact that she was raped by an adult her family blamed her so now its just us. And when I’m around her I have to be perfect, like after the open mic when those guys threw water balloons of Kool-Aid at me and I was covered in red sticky goo pretty much, when I got home, I had to pretend everything had been amazing so that she wouldn’t get sicker from stressing out about me. I don’t really have anyone to talk about that stuff with.” Jason turned her face to look at him.

“You have me,” he said softly. She nodded and, in that moment, he could have kissed her, could have taken another step, but he could see that wasn’t what either of them needed. At that moment they didn’t need the romance that was there, they needed the friendship that was also there, just as important and just as powerful. He pulled her into a hug, holding her close for several minutes until his phone went off.

“My brother wants me home to get some sleep,” he said. She nodded. “Let me walk you home.”

“Sure,” she said. She stood, taking his hand. He held it as he walked her back to her apartment. “Are you going to be safe?” she asked.

“Ya, my bike is just down the street actually,” he said, pointing towards an alley nearby. “So, I don’t want to stress your mom out, but maybe I could come to your place next time?” She nodded.

“And if you ever want to, you can come to mine too,” he said. “If you ever get over to Bludhaven.” She smiled and leaned up, kissing his cheek over the bandage gently.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” He nodded and watched her get inside before driving home, feeling several pounds lighter and freer than he had in years.

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