#this is a conversation that *still* needs to be had

[eddiernunson]

I Can Do It With A Broken Heart | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 18+

Summary: You and Eddie have both had crap luck on dates lately, nothing that can't be fixed with a strawberry milkshake. However, he gets asked out on a date and it goes well...until it turns your life on its head and he forgets how to pick up the phone. You don't even care that he's dating someone else you just want your best friend back.

Warnings: idiots in love, best friends to lovers, ANGST, brief EddiexChrissy, ooc Chrissy, attempted SA, bestfriend!Steve, and needy, desperate smut that makes it all worth it.

Thanks to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie

I’m astounded at the response to the preview I posted last week. Thank you so much for the love, I hope you enjoy all 40k (20k wtf did my brain go)

-

As you pull up to the little house at the end of the street, you look over to the sweet boy with blonde hair and green eyes nervously, curtaining a strand of hair behind one ear. He shoots you a smirk, white pearly teeth peeking from behind pretty pink lips. The date has gone phenomenally well, the conversation over dinner was easy and your date even easier on the eyes. You smooth your hands over the dress you’re wearing, picking at imaginary lint as you’re entirely unsure of what to say next.

Daniel, your date, leans onto the center console, the scent of his minty breath roping you in. “So, dinner was like, forty dollars.”

Your brows pinch together, the topic of conversation coming from left field.

“And the flowers were about twenty.” He says, his voice hinting at a subtext lost on you.

You think back to the flowers, a cascade of spring colours that drenched you in their floral scent. They sit on your dresser in a vase, waiting eagerly for you to come home.

“Okay…?” You ask, unsure of what he’s getting at.

Daniel sighs, suddenly the frustration you didn’t see before is clear on his face. “Well, I think I deserve some compensation for the princess treatment, don’t you think?”

He’s raising his brow suggestively, and the atmosphere in the car turns thick as you realize what he’s referring to. You feel so stupid. Suddenly the smirk on his face isn’t sweet, it’s sleazy. The cologne he’s wearing isn’t earthy, it’s gross. He’s not a good guy, and you feel foolish for thinking otherwise.

You think fast, lowering your eyelashes in a feigned blush. “Actually, I think it deserves just a little more than that. Be right back, I’m going to grab a condom.” You wink as you get out, the cherry on top.

Daniel lights right up, apparently not expecting his ridiculous method to work. The sound of him undoing his belt makes you nearly gag as you run in the front door.

Your dad, the sweetheart of a single father he is, welcomes you with a kind smile until he sees your crestfallen face. “You okay?”

“No,” you choke back, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. “He’s demanding I repay him for dinner.”

“Repay?” You tilt your head, inferring what it means. “Oh. Fucking twerp. You need me to–”

“Can I have 60 bucks?” You interrupt him, avoiding his angry eyes.

He melts. “Sure.”

You walk back out the door, head held high right to the little corvette that sits at the end with the cheeky asshole sitting contently, waiting for his treat. The window is still open from earlier in the night, which works right in your favor.

“Here,” you toss the bills at him, allowing a small smile to grace your face at his confusion. “Since you’re so worried about being paid.”

As soon as he understands what you’re telling him, his face curves into a scowl, embarrassed, but too proud to say so. “Like I wanted to do it with Eddie Munson’s slut anyway!”

Halfway back up to the house, you turn back to the car as the engine growls into the night. How does that make sense? you wonder. Why am I being called a slut when I refused to put out?

The front door to your house slams shut again, and your dad receives the message that you would not like to talk about it. “Ed called just now, by the way,” he mentions as you reach the top of the stairs. Your pause in gait tells him you heard him, but you don’t respond because you can hear the smirk he wears, as much as you repeatedly tell him that Eddie is just a friend.

The flowers you thought so fondly of now have a looming presence in your room, like a dark shadow menacingly waiting in the corner. You ignore them as you lift the pastel phone to your ear, dialing the number you know by heart.

He picks up on the first ring. “Hi, sweetheart.” Relief washes over you, instant and comforting.

“Hey, Eds. How was your date?” You and he had the same plans tonight, you just hope it turned out better for him.

“It sucked,” he sighs, sounding like he’s rummaging through his messy chest of drawers. “She didn’t want a date, I guess.”

“Well what did she want?” You ask, going through your own drawers for something comfier to wear.

“Uh, to be shown a good time,” he answers dryly, the sound of rummaging coming to a sudden stop. “Heard the rumors of Munson’s magic fingers and apparently only wanted that.”

Yikes, you think. Eddie’s had many hook ups in the back of his van, but as of late he’s finding himself defeated when they don’t want him, just what he can do for them. Your heart hurt for him last week when he admitted they rarely, if ever, reciprocated.

You didn’t think it’d be an appropriate moment to tell him you would happily reciprocate for him.

“That’s extremely shitty. Guess it’s not all that different from my date though, who expected payback from spending a lousy sixty bucks.”

“Payback?”

“Asked me to suck his dick and pointed to it,” you say, a million times more bluntly than you could to your dad.

“I knew that Daniel guy was an asshole,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “I think our shitty dates deserve each other.”

You laugh, holding the PJs you plan on wearing as you sit cross legged on your bed. “To be honest, I don’t think Daniel would’ve been all that great in bed anyway.”

“I could’ve told you that. He looks like he would call thirty seconds a long time,” Eddie laughs. “Sit tight, princess, I think we’ve earned pancake night at Benny’s.”

“C’mon, I was just about to get comfy!” You whine.

“Nah, wear the pretty dress. It deserves to see a strawberry milkshake, don’t you agree?”

Honestly, a milkshake night with your best friend is exactly what you need. “Sure. See you in twenty?”

“Eh, ten.”

You throw out the flowers, tossing the vase full of water into the kitchen sink, shrugging when your dad gives you an apologetic look. You certainly are already over it, just another asshole in Hawkins, who would’ve thought? When the loud music from Eddie’s stereo pulls up, your dad nods in understanding, telling you to have fun as you leave through the front door.

The date night dress you wear is a summer dress that sits just above your knees, held together by spaghetti straps decorated with pretty blue florals. It's a dress you go to for formal events, and even saw a dance or two back in high school. Of course, you had to dust it off for the cute boy in your Psych class who ended up being a complete dickwad.

The fabric of Eddie’s beat up van is familiar. So familiar that you could argue his passenger seat has a permanent indent from your ass. Eddie has, in fact, pointed it out from one night stoned in the back with him, giggling as you vehemently denied it. At your sudden quiet shut down stature, he patted your ass gently, claiming that he didn’t want any other person’s ass planted on his seat except yours.

That conversation, as hazy as it was, stayed in your mind for days after the fact.

Eddie’s dressed in his own version of a date night outfit, tight jeans exposing his knees with jagged rips under a leather jacket and plain black t-shirt. He’s gorgeous, tauntingly so. It’s not much different from an ordinary outfit, but the faint smell of fresh laundry detergent and his best cologne is the best evidence he’s all dressed up.

The loud music speaks for him, loudly, pulling off before your seatbelt is even clicked into place.

The path from your house to Benny’s is well trekked by you and Eddie on late nights when you should’ve been doing homework but ended up goofing off instead. Martha, a waitress that’s been working there well over twenty years, smiles with smeared red lipstick and too much blue eyeshadow.

You walk in stride with each other, straight to the corner booth as the husk of 20 years of chain smoking barks over the gentle music, “Hey, you two! Eddie, are you finally taking this girl of yours on a date?”

Shut up, you silently beg her, avoiding either of their eyes as you stare at your lap, seemingly fixated on a loose thread at the hem of your dress.

“Oh, I’m not that lucky,” Eddie winks, throwing his arm behind you on the back of the booth. “We’re just recovering after shitty dates.”

“One day, you two,” she muses, tapping her pen rhythmically on her little notepad. It’s never been the same notepad twice, always decorated with a little cartoon sticker on the front. You’re tempted to run to the dollar store and grab her a larger one, but a part of you thinks she thrives on her many little notepads. “Alright, a large strawberry milkshake with two straws, pancakes with extra strawberry sauce and fresh strawberries on top, and waffles loaded with whipped cream and sprinkles. Correct?”

You nod in unison, both aware that she insists you will collectively rot the teeth out from your gums if you insist on overdosing with sugar every damn time you waltz in late at night. She’s given up offering other menu items, having ordered extra strawberries just to make up for your love of the fruit.

Less than five minutes later, following the blissful sound of a blender, the milkshake is wordlessly dropped off at the table, closer to you as even Martha knows you will be drinking 75% of it. The sweet, pinky taste flows easily down your throat, humming softly as you dip into the whipped cream with a finger. “Best milkshake in town,” You assert.

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie answers, smirking, “you never let us get a milkshake from anywhere else!”

You giggle, licking some of the whipped cream that found a home in the corner of your mouth. “I could never! It would be like cheating! This milkshake would just know,” you drop your voice to a whisper, “it would smell the other milkshakes on me!”

“We couldn’t have that,” Eddie grins, grabbing the large glass to take a sip. “Sorry your date was such a jerk.”

You shrug, already having gotten over it. You’ll just need to sit on the other side of the lecture hall from now on. “He seemed so nice.”

“No offense, sweetheart, but I could’ve told you that Daniel Moore was a shitty person,” Eddie finishes another sip of the milkshake, making a large dip in the glass as the pink slush is pulled up the straw. “He likes to instigate.”

You rest your chin on your elbow, sad the milkshake is already nearly gone. “I had just hoped he would’ve matured by now…”

“In seven months?” Eddie asks you incredulously, raising his brows past his curly bangs. His expression quickly turns curious, tilting his head at you.

“What?”

“So, you’re willing to bet that Daniel Moore has improved just based on personal speculation alone but you’re not willing to believe me when I say Steve Harrington is no longer a douche?”

You roll your eyes. God, you should’ve seen this one coming. “That’s different! I only heard about Daniel. Steve Harrington actually sat back and laughed when Tommy asked–”

“You out as a joke, yeah, I know, I’ve heard it before,” Eddie mumbles, grinning at your shocked expression. “Well, that was like what, three years ago?”

“I still can’t believe you’re friends with Steve Harrington now, of all people! Listen, I know he’s also Dustin’s friend, but I find it hard to believe that you guys even have something in common,” You shrug.

“I still can’t believe you refuse to give him another chance!” Eddie playfully retorts, licking some of the whipped cream that still sits on the rim of the glass. “He’s in your Sociology class, isn’t he?”

Yeah, and he seems to insist on forcing his friendship on you, too, no matter how much you resist it. If you found friendship in Eddie, it seems reasonable to find friendship with Steve, too. Yet, there’s a little part that remembers the cruel laughter, his carelessness with others’ lives, and it ripples down your spine in a violent shudder.

You haven’t gotten rid of the notion of being his friend completely, but it’s just not the right time for you, yet.

You shrug. The topic has too much nuance for a nice dinner with your best friend. Just in time, Martha wordlessly drops off the two plates, the smile that spreads across your face is effortless. Zachary, the night chef must’ve heard about the shitty night and added extra for you, because the mountain of strawberries on the table is huge, even for your standards.

Eddie smirks, reading your mind. “You gonna finish all those?”

“Absolutely!”

-

Eddie sits on one side of the open courtyard, flicking off ashes from his cigarette as he waits for you to get out of class. He mentally reflects on his crazy afternoon, taking another long, much needed drag. The car with the million symptoms was one thing, but the proposition he got right before, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

It’s been 13 days since Daniel, four awkward classes of avoiding his glare, and you’ve decided to give up on boys completely. The one you want doesn’t want you, and the dates you’re going on don’t seem to do well no matter who you say yes to. The two offers you’ve gotten in the last week were therefore denied, realizing that even if they are cute, you don’t want to lead anyone on when your heart belongs to someone else.

Before the aforementioned date, you were practically begging for someone to ask you out, but for some inexplicable reason, now you’re getting offers left and right. Somehow people just know when you’re playing hard to get.

At least Eddie’s dates seem to be going terribly for him, as well. That’s one thing you can thankfully count on.

The puff of smoke that leaves his lips as you approach him should not be as gorgeous as it is. It’s practically unfair. “Hey, Eds.”

He flicks the filter, killing it on the cement table he sits at as he blows out one more puff. “Hey, sweetheart.”

Just from that particular look in his eye, you can tell something is on his mind. “You okay, there, Munson?”

He smirks, effortlessly standing up. “I suppose. I’m not sure how to react. Or how you’ll react.”

Your brows meet your hairline, watching his mind move at a million miles per hour. “Ok, Eddie, this better be about a new class of creatures in DnD, or something, because you’re scaring me.”

He smiles, nodding his head over to the halls that lead toward the front door of the campus. “Someone asked me out on a date, earlier, today.”

Your brows furrow, biting back the jealousy that eats at your chest. Every little part of you holds back the monster that threatens to claw its way out, to snarl and hiss at every girl that even so much as looks at him wrong. It’s hard to bite it back, to choke on it purposely, but if you must, you will.

It tastes like venom as you swallow it back down. “Oh, who?”

A faint pink spreads across Eddie’s cheeks, much to your dismay. Not once, in your fuck, what, seven, eight years, of friendship have you ever managed to see Eddie blush. (Just once but it was when you nearly walked in on him jerking himself off a few short years ago.) “Who?”

“Um Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham?”

Your jaw drops, but your gut falls through the floor. You swear you hear it smash through the tiled floors and fall into the depths of hell.

“She asked you out?”

“Hey! Don’t act so surprised! A cheerleader could like me!”

That was the last thing on your mind. Of course a cheerleader could like Eddie, they’d be stupid not to. No. Every other girl that Eddie has either slept with, or gone on a date with brought no worry to your head, competition, per se. But a girl like Chrissy, one with pretty blonde curls, adorable smile and a sweet disposition, it’s like your worst nightmare come true.

Thanks to living in such a small town, you can recall 99% of the names that Eddie had told you, whether they be hookups or a date. Most of them didn’t intimidate you, only because, selfishly, you could nitpick at things you think wouldn’t work out with Eddie. Whether they were too vapid, too shallow, had none of the same interests as him, only shallowly liked him for his looks, or was a bully…you had something to give great comfort to you to prevent that little jealousy monster from clawing its way out.

This time, your brain wracked itself for some sort of answer. Some sort of flaw in the Queen of Hawkins High that could settle this uneasiness that has taken over your mind. Nothing. Nothing.

“I’m not surprised a cheerleader could like you, I’m surprised that Chrissy Cunningham asked you out,” you answer candidly, walking in step with him to where you supposed was his van. “I’m guessing you said yes?”

“I’d be crazy not to!” Eddie answered sheepishly, tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket. “I’m taking her out on Friday night.”

“Ah, you’ll tell Steve to take Creeper off hold for us, then?” You try to keep your tone nonchalant, but bitter jealousy coats your tongue.

Eddie stops mid stride, faltering, his brows pinched as he gives you those big brown eyes. “Shit. It totally slipped my mind.”

This is also new. Even as his dates would happen, any previously made plans with him were always a priority. You just hope this doesn’t become a new habit of his.

“We’ll do it on Saturday, yeah?”

You nod, giving him the comfort you suddenly find yourself craving. From the pep in his step, the rosiness of his cheeks, the warm glint in his eyes, you can tell that he’s truly excited. As a best friend, you try to be happy for him, however hard it is to make the smile on your face even remotely convincing.

Eddie curls his arm around your shoulder, tugging you along with him for what will probably be another afternoon in his room, clouded by a haze of weed.

You smoke more than usual, if anything to allow his excitement and plans for his big date in two days to buzz into the background, the bong hit rippling through your lungs as a punishment for yourself.

-

A weight on your bed suddenly dips down and you sit up quickly to face Eddie sitting on the corner of your mattress with a small smile on his face. Your headphones, still playing the obnoxiously loud music that drowned out his knocks, fall off your head as you sit up. You press the STOP button, clicking loudly in the silence as you stare at your best friend.

The anxiety of his date has eaten you all night long, the only thing strong enough to distract it being music loud enough to hurt your eardrums. You always feel some sort of anxiety, but tonight was even worse, eating at your brain in fear of how painful it might be to be third wheeling with him after being his #1 for so long.

For once, you can’t tell how it went. A slimy, selfish part of you is hoping he shares bad news. His smile breaks. Into a bigger, much brighter beam. Damn.

“How did it go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

Eddie slams himself onto the bed next to you, hiding his eyes with his hands with his dimples deep, his pearly whites exposed. “Fuck, it was the best date I’ve ever had.”

Your heart shatters. “That good?”

“God, she’s– much better than I thought she could’ve been,” Eddie answers, peeking out from behind his hands. ���It’s fucking crazy.”

Of course Chrissy Cunningham, a known sweetheart, is everything he’s ever dreamed of. Of course she lived up to his expectations. Just your luck. “I’m just jealous of your remarkable turn in luck, I guess.”

Eddie chuckles, turning onto his stomach to face you as he kicks his feet. “You’ll have your turn, baby.”

The pet name stings in the worst way. Instead, you raise your brow at him. “Look at you lookin’ like a schoolgirl with a crush. Pretty boy doesn’t even need makeup with all that blush.”

He rolls his eyes, pinching you on the shin. “You’re such a shithead.”

“Yeah, well you still choose to hang out with me anyway, so, that’s on you.” It takes everything in you to ask the following question, “So, tell me about your date, will ya?”

He does. He rattles on and on about how pretty she is, how easy the conversation was, how much she surprised him, how the night ended with a kiss that had Eddie giggling. He lays next to you, leather jacket put aside on the corner chair and boots next to your bunny slippers at the end of your bed. Your small twin mattress has you close in proximity, your side in direct contact with him as he rests his head on his hands.

“She’s such a cool girl, you know?”

You’re half asleep by now, allowing the exhaustion to overwhelm the slight ache in your chest. It zaps through your heart, overwhelms your senses and makes you dizzy. Your eyes flutter shut, but Eddie keeps talking softly next to you.

“Why were you blasting your 8-track, anyway?”

The question harshly yanks you out of the haze, failing to think of something that doesn’t seem completely false. You wish you were a better liar. “Just stressed out about your date.”

He gives you a strange look, eyebrows tilted. “Hmm?”

“We both haven’t had a very good track record, lately, and if things won’t turn around for me, then at least they should do one of us a favor.” Not, not the truth, but definitely an over exaggerated version of it.

“You’re so good to me, you know?” Eddie asks, intertwining his hand with yours. “Wasting your anxiety on me.”

The rings are harsh against your skin, squeezing your fingers tightly. The physical hurt is almost comforting in direct contrast to your emotional hurt.

His scent is comforting, as it lures you like the pied piper into the land of sleep. It’s about another twenty minutes until he realizes there are soft snores coming from you. He doesn’t care to drive all the way home, despite it only being a five minute drive away.

He falls asleep to your comforting breaths, allowing your hand to remain engulfed in his.

-

The loud ringing of your phone jerks you awake, quickly crawling to the side of your bed as you grab it from the dock housed on the floor.

“Hello?” Sleep sits deep in your voice, spelling out clearly to your caller that you just woke up.

It just occurs to you that you could’ve just allowed your dad to answer it.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Eddie’s voice is chipper, alarmingly so since you’re not even awake yet.

“You sound way too awake for someone that didn’t believe in waking up before 1pm,” you quip, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

“Ha,” he deadpans, yet it's clear he’s smiling. “Chris wants to meet you. I mean, I know you’ve already met her, but you know, as my girlfriend?”

Ugh. It’s been a harrowing three weeks. “Yeah, sure. What did you want to do with her?”

“I thought we could introduce her to pancake night,” Eddie sheepishly answers, like he knows you would be hesitant to invite someone into your holy ritual.

Yeah. You don’t want to invite her. But…you asked for patience last month and it seemed that the universe has answered with a lovesick Eddie Munson.

“I don’t see why not,” you lie, finding it rolls off the tongue much easier than it used to.

“You’re the best! I’ll see after you study in the library, yeah?” He knows your schedule. On Thursdays after the morning Sociology class, you opt to crawl up into a small corner and hermit yourself with snacks and a pile of books to get the work that needs to be done finished.

In high school, you could get away with doing minimum work and passing, but with your dad paying and barely able to afford it even with his second job, it sent the need to do your work to the best of your ability for once. You owed him at least that much from all the calls of missed classes for four years straight.

“Sure.”

As you stretch while hanging up the phone, you glance over to the alarm clock to see the time and it lurches you forward in bed to scramble for clothes, textbooks, and scattered papers as your lecture starts in less than twenty minutes. You’re usually already sitting in the seat by then.

On your way out the door, your dad is surprised you’re still home, offering to drive you. You don’t want to burden him even more than you already have, so you insist you can ride your bike and still get there on time. Well, at least you hope you can.

The bike rack is nearly full when you get to the college, six or seven locks messily put around the poles, most bikes already fallen over. You jam your bike in between two of them, hurriedly wrangling the annoying coil of sturdy cable between what you’re sure is entangled in someone else’s lock, too. Whatever, they should’ve been more organized.

The clock on the wall tells you class started three minutes ago and your heart falls to your stomach, knowing the professor is a stickler for punctuality. His words falter as soon as you enter the hall, the heavy door echoing its creak against the walls. He graciously allows you to sit and get situated before he continues. He makes examples of every late student, and you figured you would never be in his laser eyed focus. Well, before your alarm decided not to go off.

The last chair available is the corner chair in the front row, the one spot in class you love to avoid. It’s too close for comfort, a place he often chooses for students to answer his questions even if they don’t raise their hand.

That, and it’s right beside Steve Harrington.

His fingers raise from the desk as a greeting, sharing a sweet smile as you start to collect your textbook and notes. You awkwardly smile back at him, your attention snapped back to the professor as he pointedly talks right at your desk in his lecture. Fuck, this’ll be annoying.

By the time the three hour lecture ends, your hand hurts from the amount of notes you wrote down, one side covered in graphite from smudging the paper. Your stomach grumbles, asking loudly for lunch after neglecting to eat breakfast as usual.

Unbeknownst to you, Steve follows a step behind. “That lecture was brutal,” You hear from behind you. You toss your head over your shoulder to glance back at him before turning back around.

“I guess.” You say awkwardly. Here we go again.

“Out of curiosity, how are Eddie and his new girlfriend doing? Chrissy Cunningham, huh? I cannot say I saw that coming.”

Neither did you. “They’re doing great, from what I hear. Haven’t really met her, yet,” you answer, heading straight to the small cafe that has a home in the heart of the campus. “Listen, Steve, I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s happy with her, or something?”

You stop midstep, turning to face him. “It’s not that. I just don’t have the capacity for it, ok?”

“You like him,” Steve accuses, his brows meeting his hairline.

Your jaw drops, stuttering through an empty sentence. “I do not like him!”

“Really?” Steve laughs, crossing his arms as he watches you build a brick wall around yourself. “So you not wanting to talk about his new girlfriend has nothing to do with the way your face fell when I asked about it?”

How the hell did Steve Harrington pick up on it so fast, of all people?

“Even if I did, why the hell would I want to talk about it with someone I don’t even know?” You sigh, looking wistfully over to the cafe. “Besides, I’m not even caffeinated yet.”

Steve rolls his eyes, nodding towards the said cafe. “Here, if I treat you to some coffee will you talk to me about it?”

“If you add a wrap to the deal, then I’ll think about it,” You say dryly, pulling a laugh from him.

The barista, a student who you’ve gotten to know is somehow managing to do pre-law and work part time smiles nicely.

“I’ll get a vanilla latte with nonfat milk and an extra pump of vanilla, please.”

Steve raises his brow at you before making his own order, “I’ll get a medium black coffee with room for creamer, please, and whatever this lady wants from the menu.”

You scan until you reach the egg omelet wrap with mushroom, bell peppers, and tomatoes. “The loaded omelet wrap.”

After Steve pays he meets you on the handout counter. “Why nonfat milk and the extra pump of vanilla?”

“If I get nonfat then I can replace the sugar with the extra vanilla.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works.”

You pick up the cup as it lands on the counter, wincing at the temperature on your tongue. “It works.”

Steve grabs his, shaking his head as he makes his way over to pour some creamer in.

The wrap is soon presented as well, steaming in its cardboard sleeve as the scent alone pools on your tongue with saliva. The only thing that got you through that lecture was just the thought of lunch.

Steve meets you at a two-top by the window, setting his own bag down as he sits right across from you.

The omelet, much too hot to eat, sits waiting for you on the chestnut brown table as you sip on the latte. The latte is much too hot as well, but you’ve never had enough patience to wait for that caffeine kick. If you weren’t so afraid of your professor’s wrath you would’ve shown up another ten minutes late with a coffee cup in hand.

Steve allows you and himself a few minutes of quiet before he speaks. “So, why don’t you tell him?”

You cough mid sip, mentally apologizing to your lungs for allowing non-oxygen to make its way in. “I’m sorry?”

“Stop pretending. Eddie was dead on when he said you were a bad liar,” Steve says, grinning with stupid smirk on his face.

“Why have you and Eddie talked about me?” You ask, narrowing your glance towards him.

“Are you kidding? You’re all he talks about,” Steve shrugs, so nonchalant that you have no choice but to believe him. “Kind of annoying, actually.”

“Why?”

“I have to hear about how great of a friend this girl is but also how she can’t stand me.”

You huff in laughter at how distraught he genuinely seems by it, his face contorted into someone who definitely isn’t used to rejection. You cock an eyebrow at him. “Can you exactly blame me?”

“Yes! I can! Everybody loves me!” Steve rolls his eyes playfully, and damn it if you can’t help but find it mildly amusing.

“Hate to break it to you, there, sweetheart, but the people who were picked on by you don’t exactly crave to be around your oh-so-wonderful presence.”

He squints, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Picked on? I mean that’s a little harsh, considering–”

“Fine, yes, you didn’t exactly jeer, or outright bully even, but you watched and laughed along and sometimes that feels even worse,” you admit, feeling suddenly small under his gaze. “Tommy and Carol said shit, that’s just what they did… But sitting back and watching sometimes is just as bad. You were nice, sometimes, I guess. But the fact that you had that capacity for kindness and chose against it just spoke volumes.”

“I met them in seventh grade. They weren’t as bad back then, mostly just somewhat belligerent. They got worse over time, but we all had terrible home lives, it was like we were the only ones that got what that was like…and somewhere along the way, I forgot that just because we had an excuse didn’t mean they had the right.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you answer, glancing at the omelet, debating taking your first steaming bite. “I mean, I’m not condoning it, but sometimes loyalty can be blinding.”

“I’m not that douche, anymore. I got that knocked out of me when I was seventeen. Literally. Now I spend most of my free time with a high school junior,” he laughs, taking another large sip of his coffee.

“Aah, Dustin,” you hum, thinking of the many instances where he had tried to convince you of what Steve had just told you. What made you so insistent on denying believing in either of your friends seems to dissipate, however, just in the friendliness that Steve radiates alone. Damn his charisma. “Would you believe me if I said he vouched for you many times?”

“The kid loves me, what can I say?” He shrugs, not hiding his laughter. “Now. Back to you. Why not tell him?”

No use in hiding it. If Steve can bare his soul in the middle of the day at a damn cafe just to get you to trust him, you suppose you owed him the same. “‘Cause he doesn’t feel the same,” you answer, starting to peel open the snack from the hunger pang. “Why make it weird when there’s nothing that could come from it?” You shrug, looking down sheepishly as the weight of your words sink into your heart like a stone.

“Doesn’t like you. Are you sure about that?” Steve asks, licking his lips.

You hesitate. “Is this a trick question?”

“Nope. I just wonder if you truly believe it, or if you’re too scared to let yourself have something you’ve wanted for so long.”

“Where do you get off on acting like you’re some sort of expert on this?” You ask, folding your arms across your chest. The question rings out from the mere fact that he is dead on the nose. He couldn’t be any more right. The very idea that Eddie had even an inkling of what you had for him scares you to death. You would rather keep him as a friend and lie in wait than lose him from a great love and not have him at all.

“I’m more observant than most people give me credit for,” he admits, twirling his almost empty coffee cup. “I’ve heard countless hours of Eddie talking about you, yet I haven’t heard him speak once about Chrissy. That says a lot, don’t you think?”

“Well, me neither, and I’m his best friend. Don’t get down on your luck.”

“You are both idiots. Just tell him. Seriously. I’m sick of you both acting like a pair of love sick fools.”

“You seem to be very convinced of something that is not real,” you tell him, garbled from the bite of omelet you’re in the middle of swallowing. “If you keep this energy up when you’re studying, you would probably do pretty well for yourself.”

“Fine. Remain in denial. I don’t care. You can destroy yourself from the inside. Who cares? Just, let me in. I need someone to help me with these assignments. They are mind numbingly dull.” He throws his hands up like he’s admitting defeat.

“You need a study buddy?” You laugh, hiding the food that sits in between bites. “I suppose that could be arranged.”

“Sweet. Now are you gonna treat me to a coffee every now and then, or?”

“I have a single father, not an unlimited credit card from Daddy’s big business, Steve Harrington.” You say matter-of-factly, jabbing your finger towards him accusingly.

“Oh, so I have to provide the newly released movies and buy the coffee, I see how it is.”

“Privilege breeds responsibility, Stevie. I don’t make the rules.” You give him a half smirk. As you look at him, you’re finally seeing the person you thought could see all those years ago behind the mask of his terrible friends. Steve’s ambush would be the best thing to come out of the next few weeks.

Because it turned into hell.

-

As your hair runs wild behind you, there’s a grand attempt to allow yourself to let the wind distract you from the sinking feeling in your gut. It grows bigger and bigger, until it becomes unbearable as you reach the gravel lining the trailer park. You allow your bike to fall heavily on the trailer, taking a moment to collect your courage before knocking on Eddie’s front door.

It feels weird knocking. You can’t even recall the last time you did. But, you refuse to overstep any boundaries that might not be communicated yet. Being on Chrissy’s good side will make your life a lot easier.

Eddie answers the door, out of breath and sweating with wild eyes and even crazier hair. “Hey!”

“Hey,” you greet, stepping in right behind him. You blink, taking in the pristine surroundings. It’s like stepping into an alternate dimension, one where Eddie and Wayne regularly cleaned their trailer and preferred the smell of lavender over stale beer and greasy pizza boxes. The kitchen is spotless, the living room has a lit candle sitting on the coffee table, and the shelves containing the million mugs were dusted. “Who are you and what the hell did you do with my best friend?” You laugh.

He chuckles sheepishly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as protection. “Uh, is it too much?”

“Better warn her now so she doesn’t get used to cleanliness,” you answer, watching as the surfaces around you sparkle and shine.

“Ha, ha. I have to get dressed. I have some snacks on the kitchen counter. You mind starting the popcorn?” Eddie doesn’t bother waiting for you to answer, already walking to his room.

You get a glimpse of his bedroom as he shuts the door behind him, smirking at the clothes still scattered on his floor. At least one part of this little haven of yours remains normal.

The popcorn shakes in your hold as you continually stir it on the stove to prevent it from sticking to the bottom of the thin aluminum bottom and burning. Just as the first batch of kernels reach their limit, a knock from the front door hits, each one feeling like a crack in any normalcy you’ve ever had.

Things will never feel the same ever again. Not after tonight. On your way to open the door you try to tell yourself that it can be a good thing.

Right?

The door opens to the once head cheerleader of Hawkins High, wearing a pink dress that fits her tiny frame nicely with blonde curls and bangs that beautifully frame her face. Her hands are folded behind her back, standing meekly in white sneakers and long lashes and blue eyeshadow. It’s hard not to be envious of how pretty she is.

It’s clear she’s not expecting you to open the door. “Hey! Sorry, Eddie’s just in his room. He should be out any minute.”

“Oh. Ok,” she enters as you back up, wringing her hands together, probably out of anxiety. “What movie did he rent?”

“You know, I was so busy making fun of him for cleaning up for once I didn’t bother to ask,” you admit, hoping to make the atmosphere just a little bit lighter.

She looks around the place, seemingly taking it in. “Hmm,” she hums, walking over to the couch. “It’s cute when they try so hard.”

“Sure,” you answer, walking back to the kitchen, hoping the popcorn isn’t irredeemably burnt. “Do you want butter on the popcorn?”

“Yes please!”

You’re in the middle of mentally begging Eddie to come out already while the butter melts in the microwave, the hum of the microwave loud in the silence.

“Okay! I’m ready!” Eddie announces, opening the bedroom door with a flourish. “Sorry for the wait!”

As he gets to the couch behind Chrissy, he wraps her in a big hug and plants kisses all over her neck. “How you doin’, sweetheart?”

You hold back the nausea as you pour the hot butter all over the popcorn in the large plastic bowl. You find it ironic that this is the same bowl you’ve held back Eddie’s hair over as he hurled into it. You just hope Wayne thoroughly cleaned it.

“Popcorn is ready, can y’all help me bring the chips and candy?” You ask, shaking the bowl to coat the butter over each kernel.

“We can do that,” Eddie answers, grabbing Chrissy’s hand as they walk to the kitchen.

“How can I help?” Chrissy asks, arms open as she looks around a kitchen she has no familiarity with.

“Um there’s some soda in the fridge, grab me and Ed a Coke, and you can grab yourself whatever you want,” you answer, pointing to the twenty year old fridge in the corner.

“Hand me some,” you command, holding a single hand for one of the many bags of snacks Eddie juggles.

The popcorn and a couple dozen little bags land on the coffee table in front of a blank tv screen. Chrissy sits with a soft grunt in between the two of you, cradling the cans of coke and sprite in her tiny arms.

She distributes the cans, handing them over to you and him. Eddie squats in front of the TV, pressing play on the tape which he apparently already prepared to watch. His plaid boxers peek out of his jeans, sitting above the studded belt as he adjusts volume and picture.

You share a smile with the blonde, opening your can and wincing at the loud hiss. You keep thinking about the days you and Chrissy will look back on how awkward this was. How the first days of this trio were so weird, and off putting, and how she thought you were a bitch when she met you.

Where she’s a friend.

You have to try.

“What are we watching?”

Eddie turns around slowly, that over exaggerated smile on his face that tells you he’s up to nothing but trouble. “Oh just a little somethin’”

“Oh god,” you wince, knowing that look on his face. You lean into her, whispering, “Hope you like horror.”

Chrissy turns to you with wide eyes and a queasy smile. “Not really.”

“Oh, this one is a classic,” Eddie promises, animatedly using his hands as he crouch-walks back next to her. “If any movie can turn someone into a horror fan, it’s this one.”

As soon as the music starts playing you recognize it. It’s a tune you’ve heard many times in his living room, subjected to it too many times if you had anything to say about it. Of course, you’ll watch it with him every time, regardless.

“Halloween? Seriously? The serial killer stalking the babysitter? You couldn’t think of anything else?” You roll your eyes. He could probably do a whole reenactment of the movie word for word if he tried.

“It’s a classic for a reason, sweetheart,” Eddie tells you, grabbing the bowl straight away. Of course, he will rip through the popcorn, he always does.

You feel Chrissy tense up, not that you can blame her. You suppose a talk about proper pet names will be necessary.

Each bag of snacks is eventually opened because you can’t stick to one bag long enough to finish it even if you tried. You get bored of the same taste too often. You have your favorite few, fuzzy peaches, M&Ms, Reese's Pieces, Swedish fish, and last and most controversially, at least where Eddie’s concerned, salt and vinegar chips.

He always has his own snacks at his disposal from nights of having the munchies, always on a dollar store run for said snacks. At each movie night he restocks, both yours and his alike, and suddenly you realize you will need to remember Chrissy’s too, if you’re going to be cordial.

With each bloody death that splatters the walls on screen, Chrissy grows closer and closer to Eddie. There’s a part of you that has considered using scary movies to cuddle up to him, but you’re just not genuinely scared of them enough to consider it. The ruse would’ve faded eventually. You try not to let the jealousy eat you up from the inside, no matter how much it burns your skin.

His arm wraps around her, petting her shoulder gently as she whimpers at the slash of his knife. “It’s corn syrup. Totally fake. You can tell by the color, it’s way too bright.”

Towards the end, the loud, chirpy, nauseating sound of kissing fills your ears. Your eyes can’t help it, they move towards the noise and immediately regret it. Oh god, they’re kissing. If you can even call that kissing. He’s practically engulfed her mouth.

Surely, with the company they have, they’ll stop, right? Their heads will remember and sheepishly get the fuck off each other? Right?

Two scenes and what feels like forever, later, you realize how wrong you are. “I’m glad you two are crazy for each other, really I am, but can we please wait until I’m gone?” You give an awkward laugh to try to stifle the discomfort coursing through your veins.

Eddie makes a surprised sound, almost like he completely forgot you were there. “Shit–sorry.”

Chrissy doesn’t make any apologies, in fact, you miss the way she rolls her eyes against his chest. She wanted to keep going, hoping you would take her hint to get lost.

Before long, the end of the movie finally arrives, the end credits rolling with that famous piano tune. Chrissy has practically stitched herself to Eddie’s side, her arms wrapped around his waist. The popcorn bowl is nearly full. All that work on it for nothing.

You sigh, about to claim that it’s your cue to leave when–

“I’m thinking we should show Chrissy one of our pancake nights, don’t ya think?”

No. You don’t want that. From the way Chrissy completely tenses up, neither does she. But for his sake, you both reluctantly agree.

Hawkins looks a lot different from Eddie’s backseat.

As the ring of the bell against the glass door announces your arrival, Martha’s head snapping up from the magazine she’s buried her nose in. “Hey you two, I was wondering when I would see you again!”

You and Eddie walk directly to the corner booth, as per usual, Chrissy trailing a half step behind him with her left hand intertwined with his right. Before Martha walks up to the booth, she starts the blender, the sound oddly comforting for how uneasy you feel.

“Well, looks like we got ourselves a little straggler! What’s your name darlin’?” She asks, the notebook she now holds a dark purple instead of the red she had last time.

Chrissy stares blankly at her, curling back into him. You don’t remember her being this shy in High School.

“This is Chrissy,” Eddie introduces her, giving her a fond look. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Martha’s penciled brows raise straight to her ruby red hair, the chewing gum loud in her silence. Her surprise only lasts two seconds, shifting into hospitality for the new member. “Welcome to these two’s many, many nights spent here at Benny’s. In fact, could you make them come a little less often. We’re starting to get annoyed at them.” She jokes, throwing a wink at you.

You laugh with Eddie, taking note of the fact that Chrissy is still silent.

“Alright, well I already know what these two want, did you need a second to look over the menu?”

She nods.

“Alright, well, I’ll be right back with your milkshake.”

“Can you make it one medium, one large with two straws?” You ask Martha, sure it would get more awkward if she brought one for you and Eddie to share.

“Oh, sure,” she answers, her voice unusually soft.

Less than five minutes later she returns with two milkshakes and a menu.

“Oh,” Chrissy comments, looking curiously at the pink ice cream drink in front of her. “I don’t really like strawberry. Can I get vanilla instead?”

Your forehead meets the table, punishing yourself. “Shit. I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to ask.” Eddie apologizes.

“It’s fine.” Chrissy smiles sweetly at him.

“Oh, you gotta eat breakfast, it’s tradition,” Eddie mutters, switching her page to the all day breakfast menu.

“Hmm,” she responds, pointing to one of the menu options. “I think I’ll get the poached egg with the avocado toast.”

“Alright. Should be out quickly,” Martha answers, grabbing the milkshake from them.

“How often do you guys come here?” Chrissy asks, turning her face to Eddie.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Probably more often than we should. Like when shit goes sideways, or we need a hit of sugar, or when we just feel like bugging Miss Martha, over there.”

“When did you start coming?”

“My junior year,” you answer, smiling at the memory, “his second attempt at senior year, we both didn’t want to go to the stupid school dance, so we decided to get dressed up and come here, instead.”

“Why didn’t you want to go?”

Eddie shrugs, petting her shoulder with his thumb. “We thought it was dumb. Then, we ened up coming back when both of us failed this one really important bio test. Then, by the third time she remembered our orders and had the blender going by the time we sat down.”

Eddie asks how your day was, so you inform him you managed to have a civilized conversation with Steve Harrington. You have an audience for the conversation, one member animatedly interested, the other politely listening.

Polite is definitely the way to describe it, no spark in her eye. At least, not the one she wears when she listens to her boyfriend speak. In fact, you can practically see them glaze over.

Just as you nearly avoid explaining the main topic of the awkward conversation, Martha comes back over with two plates, one for you, one for Chrissy. It’s only half a moment until she’s back with the new milkshake and third plate.

The mountain of strawberries is bigger than average this time, this larger size becoming something you might get used to if the staff continues to spoil you like this. You take another flick of whipped cream from the top of the milkshake, suddenly realizing you’ve barely taken a sip the entire time. Damn, it’s usually half gone by the time you get your food.

“Do you guys order the same thing everytime?” Chrissy asks, looking at both of your plates.

“Yup!” You exclaim, spreading the strawberry sauce around your plate.

Her blonde brows furrow. “Maybe it’s not good to eat this much sugar every time you guys come here,” she comments, cutting at her squishy green toast. It doesn’t look appetizing to you in the least.

“It’s not like we come here every night,” Eddie laughs, spreading his sprinkled whip around the fluffy waffle. “It’s fine to indulge every now and then, you know?”

“Maybe you guys should try something a little healthier?” Chrissy asks, her voice having what you think is a little bit of a bite in it.

“People don’t exactly come here to eat healthy, Chrissy,” you laugh, thinking of the menu item called Heart Attack Jack, which is a burger doused in American Cheese with layers of bacon and a bucket of grease. It’s not going to be a soccer mom’s number one choice for health.

“You don’t have to bite my head off, it was just a suggestion,” Chrissy mutters, curling into herself.

“I-I didn’t,” you reply, very surprised at her knee jerk reaction. “I’m just saying, if we wanted to go somewhere to eat healthy, we probably wouldn’t pick a greasy diner in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, I’m not sure anywhere in Hawkins really has the healthiest choice.”

“Chris, what she’s trying to say is that eating a crap load of sugar is just tradition at this point,” Eddie says, intertwining her hand with his. “It’s a part of our ritual. You don’t have to eat like us if you don’t want to, we just thought you’d want to be included.”

“It’s just a lot of sugar, is all.” She’s barely taken a chunk out of her food, resembling a bunny in the very small, very tiny bites she continues to take. “Maybe I won’t join you guys next time. I don’t really understand the point.” She says sheepishly.

In the depths of your soul, you feel at that moment you would probably never get along with her, have given up hope on her completely. It wouldn’t be for a handful of weeks until you acknowledge that you had sound reasoning.

The bill is paid, money hitting the table on your and Eddie’s parts, the vanilla milkshake just barely touched. If you knew she wasn’t gonna drink it you would’ve doubled down on the strawberry, Eddie hates vanilla.

As you walk out to the van, trailing behind them as he wraps his arm around her shoulders, you find yourself at an impasse. “Eddie, can you give me a ride home?” Chrissy asks. She moves on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe I can ride you before you drop me off?”

The pancakes you wolfed down churn back up your throat, threatening to make their second appearance for the night.

Eddie’s cheeks flush, his eyes wide as he tugs her in. Guess that answers that question. “Um, do you need a ride?” He asks you, almost avoiding your eyes.

Chrissy’s death stare is plain as day, silently warning you not to take it. Fine, you didn’t want to sit in the van with these two, anyway.

“No, it’s fine. I can grab my bike from the back.”

Chrissy beams, her curls bouncing as she jogs to the passenger seat. You hope your ass imprint is uncomfortable for her.

Eddie returns with the bike, putting it gently down in front of you. “Hey, Ed?”

“Hmm?”

“Might want to teach your girlfriend how to whisper,” you tell him, grabbing the handles from him. “It’s not considered a whisper when everyone in a ten foot radius can hear!” It comes out harsher than you intend it, but with how horribly tonight has gone, you can’t bring yourself to want to apologize.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie swears, the pink in his cheeks now from embarrassment. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t mention it,” you insist, dismissing it. You had a feeling she said it loud enough for you to hear on purpose, anyway. “Just use protection, ok? We don’t need any more Munsons in this world running around, creating chaos.”

If you got Chrissy pregnant I would actually be sick, is what you mean.

“Shut up,” Eddie laughs, wrapping you in a hug over the bike. “See you next time, slugger.”

That was when you changed from sweetheart to slugger.

-

There’s no whiplash like discovering your best friend is a completely different person when he’s in a relationship. On one hand, phone calls with him are as ordinary as always, teasing and jeering and flush with the familiarity of a best friend.

On the other hand, when you meet with him and his girlfriend, he seems to dampen his wild personality and slice it into ribbons for her sake. It kills you.

Reruns play on the small tv, old cartoons Wayne recorded for a rambunctious little kid in his mix. You’ve watched them enough to know some of them by heart, especially your favorite gags.

Eddie sits in the corner of the couch, curled up with Chrissy on his lap as they talk quietly. They’re low enough you can barely make out what they’re saying, but from the giggles alone, you have no interest in the nausea it would give you.

She was already in his lap when you got there, a sarcastic comment choked back having something to do with maybe getting off, opting to sit on the other end.

“Oh, Ed, the movie is next Friday,” you remind him, taking another sip of the ice cold coke in front of you.

“Remind me what that was?” Eddie asks you, peering his chin over Chrissy’s head.

You narrow your eyes, scoffing in incredulousness. “Uh, hello? I did not wait in line for hours for the Princess Bride just for you to forget!”

“OH, fuck I didn’t realize that was coming up so quickly!” Eddie exclaims, a wild look in his eyes. “Well, shit I’ll make sure to free my oh-so-busy schedule!”

“Sweet.”

“Oh, I totally wanted to see that movie!” Chrissy chirps, sitting up in Eddie’s lap. “Are there any more tickets for the night you guys are going for?”

“It’s been sold out for weeks,” you shrug, chomping on a potato chip. “I stood in line for like six hours that morning.”

“Oh,” she mutters, curling into him.

You wish you could say it doesn’t give you great pleasure to know she won’t be able to crash your movie night.

“You think, uh,” she starts, turning around to face you. “You think I could have your ticket and Eddie could take me?”

You scoff, bewildered that this even crossed her mind. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean, I really wanted to see it and it doesn’t really make sense for you two to go out for a date, now that he’s dating me…”

“I think you forgot the part where I stood in line for six hours to get these tickets,” you reply, trying to catch Eddie’s eyes. He’s avoiding you.

“And I’m sure we’ll all go next time!” She offers as an almost smug smile plays at her lips.

She can’t be serious. After watching her face, you realize she is fully expecting you to give up your ticket so she can go with him. Guess that Iron Maiden concert coming up this summer is off the table, too, you think, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

You look at him, waiting for him to say something to indicate how ridiculous his girlfriend is being, to stand up for you.

Oh. He’s not going to.

“I really don’t see the big deal.” Chrissy scoffs.

Of course you don’t. “I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you my damn ticket!” you snap. “If you really don’t want Eddie to come with me that badly then I can get Steve to take me.”

Which is ridiculous, Eddie was the one who wanted to see this movie in the first place. It looked like it was about adventure, something Eddie loves in movies. You decided then sure, since his birthday is right after the movie comes out, you’ll stand in line for the tickets then treat him to a fun movie night.

If Chrissy is uncomfortable with that, then that’s her prerogative, but she can choose something else to do with her boyfriend since she wants to so badly. You won’t let her walk all over you.

Chrissy doesn’t answer, but she’s clearly upset by yours. “It’s alright, babe,” Eddie hums, tugging her up against his chest so she curls into him. “I can wait until it comes out. We’ll just rent it, yeah?”

You’re not sure which makes you more nauseous, the fact that he just made a plan with her that won’t come to fruition for six months, or that he had nothing to say in the conversation.

You’ve never felt so unwelcome on his couch. “I’m gonna head home. I’ll see you later.”

Whatever comes out of Eddie’s mouth then falls on deaf ears as you fight the tears that irrationally threaten to spill over your water line. They’re stupid, your emotions are stupid, the movie is stupid.

-

Steve sits on the other side of the light brown table in the library, hunched over some notes as you explain the concept to him once more.

“Ugh, this is ridiculous, I’m going to forget this as soon as we learn it,” Steve whines, rubbing his eyes.

“Well you’re only taking Sociology because you haven’t claimed a major yet and sociology is required in most degrees.”

“That’s true,” he smirks, stretching his arms. “This still is all starting to look like gibberish. I get it, we live in a society in which the rules are not in our favor, why does that have to be studied to this intent?”

You shrug. “It’s fascinating.”

“To who?”

You roll your eyes, wondering how he grew on you like a weed. “Alright, we’ll take a break, then.”

“Any plans upcoming for next Wednesday?”

“Uh, no, at least not that I’m aware of,” you answer, putting your highlighter down. “We were supposed to see the movie for it, but, well you know how that turned out.”

“I’m sure there’s something he’s planning,” Steve assures, tapping his pencil rhythmically. “It’s not like him to not make a spectacle of his birthday.”

That, you agree with.

“Dustin said he hasn’t heard anything about it, either. He almost planned a surprise party for him. You think he’s just taking it easy this year?”

You doubt it, he’s turning 21, after all. Not like hasn’t been going to bars since he was fifteen, but now at least he’d be able to go into a major city with his real ID without getting flagged. Last year he prattled on about plans for this one, how he was gonna have a big rager at Steve’s and drop a whole paycheck on kegs.

You’re sure if he was going to do anything in those next two days, then he would’ve told you by now.

That Wednesday morning, you rise early to the sound of your alarm.

The kitchen counter is already filled with the ingredients you need, preparing for a labor of love. You hook your Walkman to your jeans, listening to the music blaring in your ears as you add one ingredient at a time, watching the batter slowly come to shape.

It’s familiar, your mom’s famous homemade recipe for cake batter. After missing her many cakes and the familiarity of her food, you finally searched for the cards containing her neat print, clearly and concisely telling the reader what her recipes needed.

It became your favorite thing to do when you missed her.

As you pour the batter into each divet in the tray, you recall the first time you thought to make a birthday cupcake for Eddie.

Neither of you cared much for first period, so it was easy to catch him before he woke up. That day you presented a vanilla cupcake with a swirl of black and blue frosting. You learned that morning he hates vanilla.

Every other instance of making him a cupcake has been a litany of flavors, but never vanilla.

As they bake, you whip up the frosting with a hand mixer, hoping the low hum doesn’t wake your father. He works so hard already. Red food coloring turns it from white, the process all too satisfying.

A plastic sandwich bag with the corner cut off is always just enough for you to pipe frosting on, the skilled hand you’ve trained after trial and error working fast.

Your dad always knows on February 19th he will wake up to 11 cupcakes on a big plate.

The pastry sits in a comically large container as you borrow your dads truck, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as you climb the stairs to the Munson’s front door.

You balance the cupcake in your hand as you head straight down the hall towards Eddie’s room. The sounds filling the trailer take a moment to register, for some reason not realizing how quiet it should be on an early weekday morning. The only sounds should be that of an early bird or newspaper hitting the front door.

Dread finds home in your stomach, as if on a very instinctual level you realize what you’re hearing. Though for some crazy, masochistic reason, those instincts wanted to be sure.

His door, wide open, reveals him hunched over Chrissy with the blanket barely covering his broad shoulders as he’s rocking. He’s rocking…and oh, you can hear her, too.

She’s moaning, whining, clawing her nails up his back like a leech, or worse, a tick, digging itself in and refusing to give up the tight hold they have on their victim.

Your mind goes empty, numb, until you hear her faintly wish him a happy birthday. You blink yourself out of the trance, blindly stumbling back into the fresh air of the living room. The cupcake lands on the kitchen counter on your way out the door, not caring as it slams behind you, definitely alerting Eddie and Chrissy of the third unknown presence in the trailer.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to even care about it, the queasiness deep rooted in your stomach threatening to make itself known on the outside plants.

You have a class in less than an hour, something you need to continue into the second year of your Communications degree, but not something that requires brain power.

The simple question of how you managed to ride your bike all the way to the campus, take notes in your class and blindly walk over to the library will always escape you. You somehow watch yourself go through the motions until you meet Steve at the cafe.

The moment he sees you, he knows something is wrong just by the deadened stare that’s taken over your face.

When you break down into tears, he brings you to his house, letting you finally admit to him what you’ve been afraid to admit to yourself.

You’re in love with your best friend. And while you’re doing your best to be happy for him, your poor heart can’t handle it.

-

The cupcake isn’t mentioned until you call him two days later, still heartbroken, but missing his voice. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, despite the great ache that makes each and every day fuzzy.

Usually, more than half the cupcakes get eaten by him, which is why a dozen are made each year. There’s still more than half left, the very sight of the cupcakes depleting your appetite as his continued absence carves a bigger and bigger hole in you.

He answers on the fifth ring, sounding as if he’s in the middle of rummaging through items in some way, slightly out of breath. “Hey, Chris, sorry I can’t find–”

You swallow the pain. Maybe the lump of pain swallowed in your stomach will finally evict itself like the contents of stomachs should. Yet, the more you throw it up, the more it seems to gather. How does that work? “It’s me.” You say dryly, tiredly.

“Shit,” he breathes, the background noise coming to a sudden halt. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. How was the cupcake?”

“The mysterious appearing pastry was delicious as always, slugger.” Slugger. “What-what time did you drop it off?”

You know that he knows that you heard something. He doesn’t know how much you heard, but he knows the slam of his front door was you.

“I didn’t hear much. Just enough to know you had already received your birthday present for the year,” the attempt at humor doesn’t hit you very well. You’re not sure how it’s received, but Eddie laughs regardless.

“Sorry about that, she slept over the night before unplanned. I should’ve remembered your yearly morning cupcake.”

“Should’ve remembered you have a girlfriend,” you answer, wishing you had that better judgment. “Did you do anything for your birthday?”

“Chris took me out for dinner with her parents.” Honestly, that sounds like it was for her more than it was for him.

“Sounds fun,” you deadpan, earning earnest chuckles from him.

“They’re an acquired taste,” Eddie offers, allowing your slight criticism of his birthday party.

“You sure you still don’t want to go to Indianapolis and bar hop?” You can’t help but ask. It’s like you can hear his reluctance to accept the celebration he got.

“Nah. Besides, we can’t risk your fake ID, after all.” He pauses, an understated sigh passing through his breath. “How has school been?”

Small talk is not often something that passes through a conversation between you two. You’re aware of it, he’s aware of it, and it turns the conversation into something almost jilted.

“I miss you,” you admit, lying back on your bed.

“I miss you,” he parrots, soft and sweet.

“Can we do something? Just you and me?”

He chuckles, low and under his breath. “Sure. Pancake night. Just you, me, and Martha’s perfume.”

…that never happened.

-

The less you see Eddie, the more you end up hanging out with Steve. He seems to want to introduce you to his own best friend, but your admission of not wanting to be a third wheel again gets him to drop it. You can’t help but notice the only times you speak to Eddie are when you call him. He hasn’t called you since asking for Chrissy to join pancake night.

That alone wouldn’t entirely convince you to not call him anymore. The jilted conversations always ending with promises of time with one another never coming to fruition. It’s the equivalent of being skinned alive, one strip at a time.

Steve has watched the circles under your eyes darken, the enthusiasm in class deplete, and the lust for life dissolve before his very eyes. To say he’s pissed at his friend is to understate it, he’s ready to tell you to give up on him and forget he exists.

Yet, Steve knows how unlike Eddie it all is. Dustin has complained he hasn’t been called back for a long time, Gareth reached out to you asking if you’d heard from Eddie lately as they haven’t rehearsed for a while. He garners more concern than anger at times.

Steve’s living room has become a new choice of hang out space, but the unnatural cleanliness of the house, the lack of cologne that both Eddie and Wayne use, the familiarity of eight years of friendship, it gives this unrelenting feeling of emptiness. It’s worth trying to fill it with edibles and weed.

It doesn’t seem to work, but you’ve become more open, more free willing with him as a direct result. He doesn’t favor horror movies like you and Eddie, but you find common ground in action and slapstick comedy, instead. Anything but romcoms, you implore. Anything even close to resembling romance is rejected.

Steve spills the latest he heard from Hawkins’ elite country club group, a bunch of ladies with nothing better to do with their afternoons than spread rumors about the population as a whole and judge them for it. Steve knows for a fact which members of the country club have side women, bringing them in hours after walking in with their own wives.

It’s so nice to be concerned with the lives of others and to not care about yours falling apart at the seams. Well, really it's being ripped apart by Chrissy Cunningham’s greedy little claws.

Ironically enough, you get paired up with Steve for a major assignment in Soc class, one required to analyze social constructs that have been deep dived in class. Another little gift of irony is you were given Social Stratification, which is the hierarchical arrangement of individuals or groups within a society based on various factors such as wealth, power, and prestige.

Being from two very different classes, you and Steve find yourself uniquely qualified to discuss the topic.

It provides opportunities to hang out together, distracted by the collective want to not work at all, but driven by an looming due date. Your mind wanders to Eddie non stop, wondering how he is, if he’s ok, if work is still giving him a hard time, did he finally get the belt he was needing, if Wayne was taking it easier.

Your fingers itch for the phone to call and ask, always haunted by the memory of each phone call, the polite conversation and empty promises. You crave to remember what it was like before.

Steve seems to act as your voice of reason, disencouraging you every time you mention wanting to call him. He sympathizes, of course, but he recalls the last time you called him and the aftermath following it.

When the assignment is finally in the last stages, making final edits to clear up any loss in conciseness, the final second guesses if the point has been made clear, you sit on the floor of Steve’s room cross legged, going cross eyed as you reread it, again.

“I can’t wait for this thing to be handed in,” you groan, throwing your pen at him.

“I think we earned a celebration,” he sighs, throwing the pen back to you. “On Friday, after we finally hand over this paper to this asshole, I am throwing a big ass party in your honor.”

“A party will not make me feel better,” you reprimand, glancing at him under your brows.

“No, but a good excuse to drink the pain away, might,” he grins, leaning forward on his stomach and kicking his legs animatedly. He looks so innocent, as if he doesn’t have his own agenda. You’ve come to know him well enough that he really doesn’t. “C’mon. Let loose with me just for one night!”

You reluctantly agree to it after he pulls out his dumb puppy eyes.

News of Steve’s party spreads fast across campus, and you find yourself curiously excited for it when you usually dread dancing with complete strangers. The strangers at this point make it better, not needing to concern yourself with anything other than how the alcohol burns.

Your dad drives you to the party, the rain heavy on the pavement making it hard to bike in such weather. He’s noticed the way you’ve shut down a little bit as of lately, more than happy to bring you to a party if it means putting some life back into the eyes of his one and only daughter.

When you enter the door with slightly damp hair just from the walk from the truck, the party is already in full swing, music overtly loud, bodies bumping and dancing, empty cups already scattered on dusty surfaces.

As soon as you see Steve, he waves you over, talking to Robin, who he’s introduced you to. She became your friend the same way he became your did; ambush. Turns out, Robin is really cool. She hands you a beer, winking as you tilt your eyebrow out of skepticism.

“Beer, really?” You ask over the music, turning the bottle around in your hand.

“You’re drinking to forget, right?” She asks, an air of wisdom in her scratchy voice. “Then what does it matter what it tastes like?”

Well, you guess she’s right. You grab another from the fridge while you’re at it before they lead you to a couch. It’s surrounded by a crowd of people you mostly have never met before, more than happy to laugh with them at the particularly stupid topics of conversation.

You’re already pretty buzzed less than an hour spent at the party, having asked Steve to get you a third bottle. “Might wanna slow down, sweets.”

“I’m drinking to forget, remember?” You ask him, winking cheekily.

Time starts to meld together as the bottle gets emptier and emptier. Robin grabs you by the hand to dance with her and Steve in a circle, top 40 pop acting as a soundtrack while you forget any goddamn trouble that might have plagued you.

You’re chatting about some mindless gossip when something tells you to turn your head towards the door. The door opens to Eddie and Chrissy, holding hands as they look around the party that got even rowdier since your arrival.

Eddie’s eyes meet yours, frozen in place as the emptiness his absence has left consumes you.

“Oh shit,” Robin mutters right next to you, but you don’t answer it as you stumble your way into the kitchen.

The internal debate on whether you need to drink water or more alcohol is roaring, so you drown it with more alcohol. Maybe you can shut it up. It’s too fucking loud. The ajar door opens and closes, a presence in the kitchen you don’t bother acknowledging. You don’t smell Eddie’s cologne, the momentary disappointment flooding your senses that he saw you and didn’t even bother talking to you.

Another sip. Another gulp. Make it go away.

“I was wondering when I would run into you,” it’s not Eddie, or Steve. Confusion takes over you as you wonder which male voice in your life you’re forgetting, turning to face the culprit.

Daniel.

“Here I am, I guess,” you mutter, taking another swig. “What exactly do you want?”

“Retribution.”

“Huh?”

He laughs, cruel and blunt. “I’m here for what I’m owed, sweetheart. I don’t get told no. Girls don’t say no to me. So, I think I’m owed some payback for the humiliation you put me through.”

What the fuck?

The laughter that leaves your throat is loud and abrupt, clearly not what he’s expecting. “Oh my fucking god, you’re just delusional. Girls don’t owe you shit for buying them dinner! You ask us out for a date, that’s on you, bud!”

“I don’t fucking think so,” he growls, slinking in closer. You can smell his breath, he’s clearly been drinking. “I will get what I want, I always do.”

Panic floods your brain, suddenly realizing he’s being dead serious. “Wait–” you protest as he leans in, the wall and your back colliding harshly. “Wait, no–”

“All you had to do was blow me, baby,” he chides, as if he’s reprimanding a small child. His hand harshly wraps around your waist, preventing you from weaving from between him and the wall. “Now look what you made me do.”

You try to push him off, panic continuing to push up your throat as he proves himself much stronger than you. Oh god, am I about to get raped in Steve’s kitchen?

His hand feels slimy as it pushes past your shirt, sending a jolt of shivers down your body. You’re shaking from fear, one cheek against the wall as you continue to resist him. “Stop– Daniel, please stop–” Your voice is frantic, eyes wide in terror as you try to push his hands away.

The harsh laughter directed at your pleas are cut off, an incredibly familiar voice slicing the air with malice. “She said stop.”

The heat you were surrounded by is thrown off, leaving the cold air behind Daniel to overwhelm you as he’s thrown onto the floor.

Blows of fists on flesh fill the room, watching in horror as Eddie has him pinned, delivering blow after blow to his face. You only see a portion of Eddie, his dark jeans and leather jacket as he hunches over his victim and blindingly delivers one punch after the other. Daniel has stopped fighting back, just a limp set of limbs as it jumps from each hit.

When Eddie has shown no signs of letting up you’re forced to jump into action, stumbling as you run into his line of eyesight. “Eddie, stop! You’re going to kill him!” You plead.

The sounds of brutal fists on soft flesh die immediately, Eddie huffing as he rises to his feet. “You okay?”

You blink as his hands frame your cheeks, petting them softly with his hands. A tear falls, splashing his hand. His concern is comforting, but the direct juxtaposition of his concern from the silence he’s fed you the last few weeks washes over you, confusing every emotion that has been hurting.

Despite the sweet shine in his eyes as they watch you, you back from his hold in a jerk reaction. “Didn’t know you still cared about me.”

He wears the hurt from this statement on his sleeve. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You wander back over to the fridge, grabbing a beer from the second six pack you’re working through. You pop it open from the mounted bottle opener, taking a handful of sips. “You’re kidding me, right? You haven’t called me in weeks. Weeks.”

He stands there, blankly watching.

“I might be more forgiving if it weren’t for Dustin and Gareth and hell, Steve also saying the same thing. None of them have heard from you. You went from calling at least once a week to radio silence! I wanted to get along with Chrissy. I really did. I started all the conversations, offering snacks, asking questions about her, letting her set her boundaries, but she had something to say about everything we did together!”

Eddie stutters, blinking as he watches you talk. He doesn’t try to talk, doesn’t try to defend himself. You don’t give him the chance.

“She clearly doesn’t respect you, otherwise you would still be my best friend and I would remember the last time we had a normal fucking conversation. I get wanting boundaries, but at this point, I don’t think she even wants you to have friends! Is that what you want? A girl who makes you make yourself smaller for her sake and isolate completely? Really? Because that’s what you have. No horror movies? No more junk food? No heavy metal music? She’s making you shrink yourself so she deems you desirable! Fucking– I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Wait, what do you mean–” he’s interrupted by the door closing, a yelp filling the room as Chrissy runs to him.

“What happened to your fists?” You glance down to them, seeing bruises lining his knuckles.

“Nothing, it’s fine. I’m fine,” he assures her, putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Alright. Well. I meant exactly what I said. I can’t do this one sided friendship thing with you anymore,” you take another swig, wondering how the bottle was already so light. “I can’t. Call me when you find my best friend, because I haven’t seen him in three months.”

You leave the room, ignoring the calls from his mouth that suffocate you. As you stumble into the living room, you catch Steve’s eye right away, chin trembling. The hot tears that trail down your face have already drenched your cheeks by the time you realize it’s even happening, choking on the emotion that drowns you.

Steve guides you into the guest bathroom, closing the door as he watches you attempt to stop the sobs long enough to tell him what happened.

“I think–” you hiccup, sniffling loudly, “I think I just lost my best friend–” tears rattle through you once again, just saying it out loud feels like lightning in its startling ability to shatter you once more.

By the time the sobs diminish again, you’re sat on the floor by the tub, head sitting in his lap as he pets your hair. You sit up suddenly, mid hiccup as you give Steve an odd look.

He almost asks if you’re okay when you spill over his lap, whimpering between gasps as you know what you’re doing, the toilet only a foot away, but it continues to explode from your stomach.

“I’m so sorry,” you explain, tears falling again, as he sits in shock.

He grins sadly, undoing his belt. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

He finds someone, Robin, to grab him a second pair of pants, ditching the ruined pair in the bathtub.

The dry heaving seems to stop the tears, now staring blankly with a wet face and lashes that stick together. Steve brings you upstairs, wrapping his arm around your waist as he brings you to his bedroom.

As your head hits his pillow your eyes fall closed, mumbling something about fucking up, about three months ago.

Steve locks his door from any stragglers, walking down each step to find a particular metal head to give him a piece of his mind.

From how your sobs shook your body, he might give him the whole thing.

-

The light cascading through the blinds hurts, like a dagger through your brain as you take in your surroundings. You don’t know how you got into Steve’s room under his blanket.

As soon as you sit up, the pain stabs you, pushing you back down. Ow. You don’t even attempt to get up again until the urge to pee hits you, when it’s too much to ignore. You rub your eye, tip toeing to try to get back under the dark blue comforter decorating Steve’s bed.

On the corner of the bed Steve sits, one foot resting on the other knee as he holds a jade green drink. “How badly does your head hurt?”

You wince at the volume of his voice, placing your hands over your eyes. “Not great.”

He winces sympathetically, offering the smoothie. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Blurry images flash through your mind, the kitchen, Daniel, half of the second case gone. You attempt to remember past that point but it comes up blank. “I remember running into Daniel.”

As you sip on the surprisingly delicious hangover smoothie, Steve watches you, wearing a clear expression of concern.

“Anything after that?”

You can tell he’s egging you on, digging for something with an unprecedented seriousness in his tone. But there’s no memory after that. You gingerly shake your head, which sends more needles of pain through your skull.

“Why?” You ask weakly. Steve pauses, ruffling a hand through his hair as he releases a long sigh.

“You really don’t, huh?” Steve asks, one last attempt. “Maybe it’s good you drank as much as you did, then.”

“Steve, you’re scaring me.” Images of worst case scenarios course through your mind. What did you do?

Steve pats the spot on the bed next to you, double checking you don’t feel the urge to throw up. You don’t.

“Daniel tried to force himself on you.” He’s gentle, compassionate in his admission as he watches your reaction.

Huh. “How far did he–” you stutter, breath hitching as you bite back the sobs that suddenly threaten to rake through your body.

“He was interrupted before he even got that far,” he comforts you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he caresses it. “Eddie sort of bashed his face in.”

Now that you think about it, the memory of Eddie hunched over Daniel as he delivered blow after blow to his nose, his cheekbone, his eyebrow. You didn’t see the final result of Eddie’s defense, but the bruised knuckles you vaguely recall spell out how brutal the retaliation was.

Eddie.

“What–” you pause, stuttering through your breaths, “what happened after that?”

“You yelled at Eddie. Berated him. I think you even told him you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. At least, that’s what I gathered from what you told me,” he admits.

Your blood grows cold. From the weeks of silence, the jilted conversations, the slow resentment that bloomed through your stomach for him. The ache already hurt just from the absence of your best friend, but it was good for you. Fuck, this hurt.

“Is that all?”

He laughs, pulling your head into his neck. “Just that you can’t hold back your liquor.”

That’s why your breath tastes like vomit.

From the extra strength tylenol he gives you, the rest of the morning is spent helping Steve tidy up the trash around his house. Only after spending twenty minutes in the kitchen on his hands and knees scrubbing up the red stains does he allow you to help him. You only catch a glimpse of the paper towel soaked in dried blood and bleach when throwing out red solo cups, a small hint of the mess Eddie made of Daniel.

The thought of his name is a self betrayal, and you work faster once it crosses your mind.

Once the place is clean, you allow Steve to drive you home at his insistence, repeatedly asking when he pulls up to your house that you’re sure you’re okay.

Your dad is at work, not there to ask any questions you wanted to avoid from the previous night, namely why your eyes are swollen from tears. The blinds in your room fall with a trill resembling a xylophone, blocking the sun from your intense migraine.

For the first time in weeks, you’re stirred awake from sleep from the ringing of the phone on the floor that has been pushed under the bed. You let it ring.

Just as sleep pulls you back in, you’re abruptly startled as the phone alerts you again. You roll over, ignoring it as you wrap your head in your hands, curling into the pillow. No one has to get a hold of you that badly.

This person does, it seems, as they call you again. You groan, crawling over the edge as you grab the phone from your receiver. “Hello?”

You refuse the want to chew them out, to take your emotions and friendship breakup out on the person who has interrupted your sleep.

“It’s me.”

You lurch forward in your bed, still tethered to the receiver by the tightly coiled wire as it forces the receiver to scuff against the hardwood floor. Eddie.

-

Eddie’s sat on his couch, limply resting his head on the couch arm as the shrill voice of the main character complains over a problem that could be solved if she had just told someone. His hand rests on his eyes, shielding himself from the light to prevent the headache he can feel coming on. He’s given up on suggesting other movies by now, but she somehow seems to only play the movies that get on every last nerve.

He would probably be more willing to watch the romcoms in question if they weren’t the bottom of the pack. Last time Eddie even suggested a romcom he actually doesn’t completely hate he had to hear about it for an agonizing twenty minutes. Fine. She could watch her movie, he can practice on his guitar, right?

You would think.

So he dissociates and focuses on the gentle petting of his calf as he rests his leg on her lap. His mind floats to his best friend, how much he misses the smell of your shampoo, or when you make fun of the cheesier horror movies he loves to watch. If Chrissy wouldn’t make a near temper tantrum every time your name is mentioned in conversation, he would’ve called you weeks ago. He missed your voice.

Chrissy continues to insist that you like him, that you’re trying to steal him from her. It turned into many fights where Eddie felt like he was losing his mind, insisting he just wanted to see his best friend. There is a stubborn, immovable force still holding hope that something will just click one day and realize just how wrong she is. There’s a little nagging part of him, eating at his brain, warning that it probably won’t ever come true.

The possibility is almost too much for him to mentally handle, because when it blows up in his face and you decide not to forgive his radio silence, he doesn’t think he will be able to handle the absence in his life. So he procrastinates the detonation.

“I’m surprised you’re not going to Steve’s party,” Chrissy chirps, interrupting Eddie’s disarray.

Eddie blinks, trying to recall any mention of a party that might’ve slipped his mind. That might’ve been the reason for his ignorance if he could remember the last time he even spoke to Steve. He’s sure Chrissy knows that.

“I didn’t even know he was having one.”

She grabs at the extra material of his jeans, pulling his attention. “Did you want to go?”

He mentally rattles through the mechanics of going to Steve’s stupidly large house, knowing damn well his distance has managed to drive you straight into the arms of someone new, even if it’s only platonic. You’ll be there, the chance much more likely than not.

He wants to see your face, even if it’s in passing. He wonders if Chrissy sees you there if she’ll decide to leave early or just avoid you altogether. But it’s just the chance that drives him to agree.

By the time he gets there, vehicles have already littered the streets surrounding his house, some even audaciously blocking his neighbor’s driveways. Chrissy’s hand is in his as he walks in, anxiously looking around the party for you.

He peers into the living room, to the couch containing members of some of Steve’s closer acquaintances and it wasn’t long until he saw you, sitting right next to Robin holding the bottleneck of a beer bottle.

Your eyes are already on his, wide and still as you stare at him. You’re even prettier than he remembered, any polaroid he’s ever had of you does absolutely no justice to your radiant smile or vibrant eyes.

Fine, you’re staring at him like you would rather be anywhere else for the moment, panic flooding your features, but it’s a breath of fresh air for him compared to his last few suffocating weeks. As you stumble to your feet, Eddie tricks himself into believing that you’ve gotten up to talk to him until you pass the front entrance straight into the kitchen.

He supposes he deserves that, fading as Chrissy tugs him to the dance floor. His hands find her hips, allowing himself to get lost in the relentlessly catchy pop tune. He can’t help but allow his eyes to float back over to the couch every now and then, something in him carnally needing making sure that you’re safe.

Alarm bells go off, goosebumps trailing over his skin as something in him screams that you’re in danger. You could very much just be avoiding him, which he wouldn’t blame you for, not for one moment, but he wouldn’t forgive himself if he found out his worry had any footing.

“Babe, I’m gonna grab a drink,” he mutters, blankly kissing her sweet scented blonde hair before his long legs take him to the kitchen.

His stomach drops as your voice fills the kitchen, asking the asshole with wandering hands to stop as he forces himself on you.

The next thing he knows, Daniel is under him, his back slammed on the floor with a face scrunched up in pain as Eddie’s fists are flying. His fists, his jeans, the floor, the whining little shit’s face, it all gets painted with blood.

Eddie doesn’t realize when the pair of arms stop trying to push him off, or when the green eyes no longer stare at him in horror, shut from the trauma of one blunt hit after the other. He just continually bashes his face in for even daring to attempt to force himself on the woman he loves.

Fuck this guy. Fuck him.

Eddie’s blind with rage, but he’s also blind with his own regret.

Your voice cuts through the anger, a warning that seeps in his brain like a sponge. If he keeps hitting him like this he will end up taking his life.

He stands up, facing your trembling form as you seem to be in shock. You melt in his hold, tears spilling over his hands as he caresses you, doing his very best to take care of you. He knows the answer when he asks, but he has to hear it from you.

Finally, the words seem to sober you from wanting his comfort to the hurt that you’ve felt from his silence. You lurch yourself from him, staggering blindly to the fridge as you grab another beer. The scent was harsh on your breath, the sight of you glugging back as much as you can sends jolts through his system.

Then you tell him everything. And he deserves it. He wants so badly to tell you how badly he wanted to call you, but the excuses sound lame even in his own mind.

When you tell him you’re done is when he finally snaps out of his own trance. He knows what you mean, but surely, you don’t really mean it? Before he can ask, Chrissy comes into the picture, doting over his bruised knuckles, ignoring you completely as she asks what happened. He’s fine. He’s not, but he’ll say anything to get back to what you were just saying.

Choked back sobs escape as you tell him with absolute finality that you are done, tripping over your own feet when you leave through the kitchen door.

No, this has gone too far. Eddie hasn’t had a single drop of alcohol but feels as if he’s wasted from stumbling after you, blocked by his girlfriend.

That conversation goes as well as can be expected.

In the hours following, he doesn’t seem to find you anywhere. But without Chrissy trailing after him, he finds himself free to converse with friends he’d missed, meeting their snide remarks of coming back to the land of the living with grace. Eddie stays for hours, half heartedly partaking in any conversation he finds himself witness to just in case you make another appearance.

Steve walks down the stairs after what feels like forever, wearing a grim look on his face. Eddie approaches him. “Hey have you seen–”

“She’s upstairs,” Steve answers, sighing. “Passed out. She’ll wake up tomorrow morning.”

“Is she okay?”

“Didn’t choke on her own vomit, at least,” Steve quips, his voice harsh. “Physically, she’s okay.”

Steve moves to walk around Eddie, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Physically?”

Steve sighs, angry, frustrated. “She just sobbed on the bathroom floor for an hour and a half, Ed. I literally watched her heart break! Safe to say, I don’t think she’s doing so well emotionally.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, feeling hopeless, like he should’ve been there to take care of you instead of being the cause of your suffering. “Steve, I–”

“Listen, Eddie. I just heard a bunch of shit from her that I’m not even sure she knows that she said. Other than her I guess telling you to fuck off, what else happened?”

Eddie gulps, not exactly wrapping his own mind around it, yet. “I found Daniel Moore trying to force himself on her.”

“Jesus,” Steve mutters, passing Eddie straight into the kitchen.

“Steve–” Eddie tries to stop him, or warn him at least, wondering how no one else has seen him, yet. There is almost no reason for most to make their way into the kitchen as the drinks station is in the living room, but usually a straggler or two, especially couples would make their own way in. He’s definitely not up and partying from the blood that seeped through the shirt he was wearing…

Should Eddie have called the ambulance?

“What the fuck–” Steve barks, taking in the crumpled form before him. “Jesus, Eddie, what happened?”

“You listen to your best friend beg someone to stop assaulting them and not beat the shit out of him?” Eddie retaliates, watching as Steve double checks to make sure he’s still breathing.

“Well, now I gotta get him out of here before someone has you fucking arrested,” Steve mutters, wracking his brain through old morally questionable friends of his that would help with no questions asked. Fuck. He has a few favors to call in. “Where’s Chrissy gone?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Eddie spits.

“Considering she has control over who you’re allowed to spend time with, probably somewhere nearby with binoculars,” Steve mutters, a fragment of seriousness in the joke.

“Well, not anymore,” Eddie shrugs, feeling surprisingly pragmatic about it.

“Oh.” Took you long enough, Steve thinks. “I’m gonna get him out of here, but I suggest you do the same.”

“Can I stay? I wanna be here when she wakes up.” His eyes pleading to Steve.

Steve’s brows raise. “Respectfully Eddie, I don’t think she really wants to see you.”

“I haven’t been able to tell her anything for weeks, I’m staying!” he insists, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

Steve shakes his head, leaning on the counter. God, he wished he hadn’t invited a few dozen people to come to his house for the night. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re an idiot. You’re both idiots, but, man I think you’re the bigger one.” Steve walks around the kitchen island, getting unreasonably close to him. “I don’t know if you’re blind, or just selectively ignorant. She loves you, dude! She was willing to support you getting a girlfriend, but then you just shut her out. It’s gonna take more than an apology to be back in her good graces. When she wakes up with a killer hangover, I think the last person she’ll want to see is you. God, if one of you just made the jump years ago this never would’ve happened!”

Eddie’s heart drops at Steve’s angry words, refusing to believe any of his feelings for his best friend are reciprocated. “Sure, because three months of friendship tell you everything you need to know about a person.”

Steve chuckles, walking over the snoring asshole as he steps out to the living room. “I would have to be blind not to see it. She talked about you one time about this stupid fucking movie she watched with you and I could tell. Rather than telling your girlfriend that you have a best friend and she has to get over it, you shut her out. For weeks. And left someone else to pick up the pieces.”

“Steve, I know. I know I was being an ass–”

“Then why didn’t you stop? Why didn’t you give her a call? You had to know she wasn’t going to forgive you so easily–”

“Of course I fucking knew that, Steve! Why do you think I put off letting it explode in my face?”

“Because you’re an idiot! She loved you. She loves you! If you can’t see that then I really don’t know what to tell you. Listen, if you call her tomorrow, I’m not all that sure what would happen. It’s gonna be a while before she’s ready to forgive, bud. For now. Maybe you should go.”

-

“Oh,” you sigh, hugging your knees into your chest, feeling small. A war rages in your mind. You were hurt enough by him to break your friendship off with him, but you don’t even remember it. The other side of you just wants to be close to him again, willing to sink into the apologies that he owes you and happily accept them.

But you shouldn’t. And you know you shouldn’t.

“Do you wanna come over for a movie?”

You want to come over and watch a movie so badly, it wraps around you and constricts your airflow. “Will she be there?”

“No. Just me and you. I promise,” Eddie swears, voice low enough that it resembles a whisper. “She won’t be, uh, crashing our movie nights anymore.”

You diminish the pulse of hope that threatens to bloom. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighs. “I was hoping to tell you in person, but we broke up last night…come over, I’ll tell you more. I just need my best friend…and a horror movie…and junk food, god, I miss junk food.”

You miss him so much it hurts. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

The bike ride sends pulses through your head, worsening the ache of the hangover. If the pain isn’t gone by tomorrow, you might just ask someone to shoot an arrow through your head to put you out of your misery.

It’s been more than long enough since the last time you were on his front door step, nervous as you hesitate to knock. Eddie’s footsteps are rapid and loud as soon as your knuckles hit the door, the opening to him, wide eyes, graphic t-shirt and pair of sweatpants. He appears unlike himself, almost tired. You wonder if you noticed it last night.

Before either one of you says a word, he tugs you in, wrapping his arms around you in an embrace in his scent. Overwhelming emotion takes over, his shirt absorbing the tears that fall. He feels like home, every part of him. His scent, the muscles flexing under your grasp, his steady breaths.

“I missed you,” he mutters, his voice low, choked, even.

Then why didn’t you call me? “Me too–” you whimper, squeezing onto him even tighter. You sniffle, curling your head into his neck.

The hug lasts forever, or at least long enough for your arms to become numb.

Your butt lands on the couch, the spot that was once permanently marked by you now weirdly lumpy from the lack of use. Did Chrissy know she was allowed to sit in her own seat on the odd occasion? On the coffee table, Eddie has already prepared the popcorn and your favorite snacks, only your favorite snacks. Three movies are laid out, all awaiting their turn in the VCR.

“What’s this?” You ask, rubbing your nose from the snot.

“Uh, three movies. Pick one.”

You read the titles, Back to the Future, Friday the 13th, and Labyrinth. “What happened to wanting to watch horror movies?”

“I have a lot of sucking up to do before I get to be picky with our movie night,” Eddie answers, his voice gentle and careful. “Pick one.”

If he says so, then you’ll have to pick your favorite, rather than his favorite. “Alright, then, Labyrinth it is. David Bowie in leather pants, here I come!”

As the movie plays, a teenage girl desperate to find her brother, you sink into the comfort of the ratty old couch. Through Eddie, you found out that the rattiest couches are actually the most comfy. The more tears and rips, the better. Eddie stands up, running to the kitchen to grab fresh cans of soda from the fridge.

He sits back down, handing you a Diet Coke while popping open his own. Two things you notice when he sits. One, he’s remarkably close, his ass nearly planted in between the cushions. Two–

“Since when did you start drinking diet coke?” You ask him, wincing at the aftertaste.

“Since Chrissy was such a stickler for sugar,” he answers casually, grabbing a bite of the popcorn.

His simple tone, emotionless and understated, squeezes your heart. “What happened with her, anyway?”

Chrissy blocked him, staring at him with wide eyes as she held his shoulders. “What–what is going on?”

“I need a minute,” he stuttered, attempting to walk around her.

“Did you do that?” Chrissy asked, pointing to the lifeless piece of shit on the floor.

“Chris, it’s really not a good time, right now. I will tell you later, I promise. I’ll be right back.” Eddie promised.

She blocked him again, hands pushing on his broad shoulders. “You’re not seriously thinking of going after her, are you?”

“Chrissy, she’s my best friend! That creep just tried– I have to go check up on her, make sure she’s okay!”

“You mean the girl who is pathetically in love with you?” Chrissy asked, belligerent and full of sass. “Sure, go and give her more false hope! She was practically all over you at the diner, mooning over you, desperate to take you out on a date, I mean, don’t give her fucking hope!”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his face angrily. “I don’t know how many times I need to fucking tell you, Chris. She is just my friend. She was being nice, trying to include you. I’m so fucking tired of this conversation!”

“So am I!” Chrissy crossed her arms, popping her hip out. It was times like these Eddie was absolutely sure of why Chrissy and Jason dated for so long. “You know what? Fine. Me or her.”

“What?” Eddie was unsure if she was being serious.

“Pick! Me or her? Because when you pick me maybe then she’ll get the fucking hint!”

It was the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life. “Her.”

Eddie finishes explaining it, mostly nixxing the parts where she berated you or talked shit. You just needed to know the part where she practically had a temper tantrum.

“Wow,” you mutter, remembering how you called Chrissy sweet when they first started dating. “And…you, you picked me?”

“Of course I did.” Eddie pops a kernel into his mouth, leaning back into the couch. His body heat is warm, his scent intoxicating. “You’re my best friend.”

“You haven’t called in weeks, Eddie.” It comes out quietly, the hurt overflowing in your body and pouring out your mouth. “I thought you had a new best girl.”

Eddie sighs, grabbing your hand. “If I could take back the last three months, I would. I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I missed you so fucking badly,” you admit, focusing on how your hand feels intertwined with his.

“I missed you. I know– I fucked up, but believe me when I say, I missed you so fucking much.”

On one hand, it’s hard to believe him. It seemed like it was so easy for him to cut you off. On the other, the glint in his eyes, his thumb caressing the back of your hand, gentle and unequivocally vulnerable.

Eddie leans forward, connecting his forehead to yours. “I will make it up to you, I promise.”

“You have a lot of making up to do, mister,” you inform him, pulling away from him to lightly nudge his hair.

“And a million strawberry mountains covered in strawberry sauce,” he answers, kissing your forehead softly.

“You really had me worried,” you admit, taking a good look at his face. “I believe you when you say that you missed me, but Eds, you hurt me. I want to trust you, but–”

His movement is swift as he grabs your face with his hands, pulling you in close. “I know, baby, I know.” The pet name takes your breath away, music to your unsuspecting ears. The name wraps itself around your like a warm hug, melting all those months of worry and panic away. “I’m so fucking sorry, if I could just–”

Maybe it wasn’t the right timing, months of silence, unanswered questions, hurt, but all that just conveniently disappears the moment his lips touch yours. You startle, jerking backwards as you look at him curiously, looking for something that’ll tell you he’s not kissing you out of pity, or obligation.

You’re met with the exact way that he always looks at you, but this time, it’s radiant. How did you miss it this whole time? You smile, wrapping your hand behind his neck as you tug him in, entangling his lips with yours and chasing that emotion that ran through you the first time.

Eddie meets your kiss with enthusiasm, grinning madly as he pulls you in closer, your body flush against his as he pulls you down with him.

It’s maddeningly enchanting, the way you can taste his minty breath and his hums against your lips, buzzing and tickling. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip, pulling a gasp as you happily meet his with yours. Your skin feels electric as his hand sneaks under your shirt, as if he’s just getting the feel of you.

You sigh, curling your arm around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. His kisses trail along your jawline, down your neck, pressing sweet kisses down your jugular. “You taste like strawberries,” he mutters, audibly smiling. “I should’ve known, all those damn strawberries you eat.”

“Before we go any further,” you gasp, clutching at his t-shirt, “and believe me, I want to, you owe me a proper date.”

“Taking you out for a date, baby?” He places more rapid kisses on your neck, letting himself absorb your laughter. “God, I’m lucky.”

-

You’ve learned one thing for absolute certainty, Eddie Munson knows how to grovel. Between the many kisses you’ve shared that night you tell Eddie with surety that just because he knows how to kiss doesn’t mean he’s suddenly forgiven. Eddie relishes in that, grinning just because you’re kissing him.

The previous night he was losing his mind at his ex-girlfriend’s terrible movie choices, and you, his best friend, the person who has always known him best, you’re finally here kissing him. You could ask him to write a 1000-page apology letter entirely in rhymes or haikus and he would do it heartbeat, but all he’s required to do is prove it?

He’s more than willing.

When the date is proposed, he swears he would love to take you anywhere. He provides a list, with all of the restaurants you know he can’t afford. When you ask him and inquire about such, he shrugs casually. There’s a silent question there, wondering if Chrissy had even considered his wallet size before their date nights.

Instead, you answer with, “Our first date should be the diner, no?”

You’ve never been so nervous before, looking through your small arsenal of date night dresses. He’s seen all of them, whether from a school dance or the aftermath of a date gone sour. One dress catches your attention, at the very back of your closet covered in plastic, just waiting for the right time.

White, with blue flowers hand embroidered on the bodice, a sweetheart neckline and bubble gum pink ribbons tied together as the straps. Periwinkle blue that bleeds into mint green leaves along the hemline, fanned out into a hoopskirt. You’ve stared at this dress when it sat in your mom’s closet, asking when it might be your turn to finally wear it.

The dress fits you like a glove, looking remarkably close to the photo on the easel downstairs, a first date 25 years ago that ended up being one of your favorite bedtime stories.

As you finally make your way down the stairs, hair half up in curls in a ribbon matching the ones on the dress, your dad looks at you with pride and glossy eyes. Whispered words of the resemblance as he hugs you, eyes too tired for a man in his forties from loss and stress, a whiff of gratitude hits you.

It’s a warm spring evening, no need for a coat as the van pulls up with the usual melodies of heavy metal and drumming. You make your way down the sidewalk to his passenger side, butterflies erupting as you open the door.

The volume is turned down to a background noise, the heavy metal feeling oddly out of place at such a low volume. “Hi, sunshine.”

You grab his hand, petting at his calloused skin. “Hi.”

You feel his eyes on you, taking in the dress that is on its first night out in decades. “I don’t know how you show up looking this good and expect me to act normal.”

You grin, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and sniffing at the leather. He can’t say shit like that and expect you to go on like normal. “C’mon. I haven’t had a strawberry milkshake in ages.”

You open the window just a crack, appreciating the scent of fresh grass in the spring. New beginnings, fresh starts, rebirth. It seems oddly poetic.

He pulls up to the diner, bright neon lights against an evening sunset. It looks as if it’s painted, yellow into orange into blue. A lonely diner isolated sitting against a watercolor sky, but one of your favorite places in the world.

The bell ringing feels like an old song you haven’t heard in years, bringing some bittersweet nostalgia.

Martha perks up, the diner even deader than normal with only a lone man sitting on a bar chair holding a milkshake like a beer. The comparison sends a gag reflex through your body, never wanting to even smell another beer in your lifetime. As you sit next to Eddie, in such close proximity that the other side of the booth is useless, Martha appears with a cheeky smile on her face.

“If you two aren’t on a date, I’ll eat my notebook,” she sighs, hands on her hips as if she’s chastising two kids.

You and Eddie glance to one another, debating on fucking with her. It’s all the approval she needs.

“Finally! If you came in my diner again with those puppy dog eyes of yours I would’ve about had it with you two. Now, are you getting your regulars again?”

Eddie’s arm curls around your shoulders, his thumb petting the bare skin of your shoulder. “I’m disappointed you haven’t already brought the milkshake, Martha.”

“Smartasses. The both of you!” She walks off, a brand new pep in her step.

His thumb turns under your chin, pulling your face towards his. “C’mere. I need to make up for the times I just wanted to kiss those pretty lips in this booth of ours.”

“Why didn’t you?” You ask him, breathless as you stare at his eyes.

“I didn’t think the prettiest girl I know would want to kiss a goofball like me,” he chuckles, self deprecating and vulnerable.

You shake your head sadly, sighing happily. “You are so wrong.”

His chuckles are interrupted by your kiss, clutching onto the cotton t-shirt clinging onto his chest. It’s like you to forget how to breathe, taking the moment to take a deep breath before kissing him deeper, harder.

Your tongues meet, wrapping together with his and leaning forward to be as close to him as possible. His hand lands on your thigh, petting it roughly as he teases you. You hated yourself, hated how you told him you wanted to wait, because it’s becoming too much. The need for him sits deep in your stomach and begs you for any resolve from his teasing hands.

His kisses keep you only so satiated, whimpering by the time your make out sessions are done and ready to beg him to touch you already.

The glass of pinky sweetness hits the table, interrupting his electric lips on yours. “If you two do it, at least have the decency to take it to the bathroom like every other patron.”

You yelp, avoiding Martha’s eyes as Eddie tugs you in against his chest, kissing your temple. “Yes ma’am,” Eddie obeys, saluting with two fingers. Two, very distracting fingers.

You take a sip, humming. After weeks, you will proudly proclaim that this is still the best milkshake in town.

Eddie kisses your cheek, pulling you even closer. “If you lick that whipped cream off your finger, so help me god.”

It’s a habit of yours, one you’ve done at least once a visit just to get a taste of it before it sinks into the milkshake. The numerous times you’ve done it sinks in, unknowingly teasing him. “Something wrong with tasting whipped cream, Eds?”

“When you do it with that tongue of yours, yes,” he mutters, nipping on your jawline.

“Why don’t you have a taste,” you hum, taking a scoop with your pinky, licking it up.

Eddie pulls you in, humming as his tongue reaches out for yours to grab a taste of the cream melting fast in your mouth. He pulls back all too soon, eyes fluttering shut as he tuts his tongue. “Mmm. Yum. Thanks, baby.”

The milkshake is nearly gone by the time Martha rolls around again, pancakes and waffles in hand, interrupting soft conversation and sweet nothings.

He finally tries a taste of your pancakes, eating from the fork you offer him. His face winces, screwing up as he chews on it. “That strawberry sauce is sweet, ain’t it?”

“A little sour, I guess, but it’s my favorite. The fresh strawberries are a nice little addition.” You tell him, cutting up the pancakes.

“I’ll stick to my sprinkles,” Eddie mutters, dipping a piece of the big fluffy waffle in the whip. “They are the best.”

“I have a question,” you mutter, relishing in the taste of the sweet strawberry sauce. “How-how long have you liked me? Was it more recent, or have you liked me for years?”

Eddie smirks, placing a stand of hair over your shoulder. “Years.” He chokes back the correction of the word like, cause it’s so much more. “The first time I saw you, you were giving one of the football dicks hell for picking on one of the scrawny little freshmen. And I mean, berating him. You’re shy, baby, but not when it comes to others.” He pauses, chewing thoughtfully. “I knew from that moment.”

Oh. It was a handful of months before you found yourself sitting by the hellfire table, shaking your head at their antics. Plus, Gareth was just plain wrong in his opinion, you shook your head disapprovingly as you dug your nose in the book. Eddie caught on to it, demanding you join their group and inform him of how wrong he was. You did. You didn’t realize how charming Eddie was, how welcoming and genuinely kind.

It took your breath away, especially how gorgeous he was. The crush was kindled from then on, only being nurtured as you continued to debate him and his friends on their nerd culture.

Eddie followed up with the same question, asking how long ago for you, too. You tell him that very story, of how he enamored you just from being around him.

“You know, by then I was already head over heels for you,” he admits casually, sipping the last of the milkshake. “Something about sticking it to the man just does that to a guy.”

“Those dimples of yours are a weapon.” You admit in kind, and he laughs. You drop your jaw incredulously. “They’re a weapon! You think your hands are the only things those girls call magic?”

Eddie leans in, hot breath on your ear sending ripples down your neck. “And have you thought about these magic hands of mine, sweetheart?”

You gulp, licking your lips as your heart races in your chest. “Maybe...” You say softly.

He hums, tentatively kissing your skin. He really shouldn’t be doing this in a public space, you think, attempting not to wiggle at the uncomfortable feeling of arousal pooling in your panties. “I can’t wait to show you just how magic they are.”

You hold back a whimper, choking on it as your eyes flutter shut at his tentative kisses.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” You nod, watching as he places the right amount of bills with a decent tip for Martha.

On your way out the door, Martha shouts her goodbyes, happily yelling out her congratulations as the glass door slams behind you. Eddie’s lips find a home on the back of your hand, holding it as he kisses loudly, tickling the skin.

The trailer sits alone in the park, all lights off as he pulls up. With the turn of a key, his arm wraps around your waist as you walk in sync. It’s familiar as you help him turn on the lights, domestic, even. His jacket is off, tossed on the couch as he tugs you by the hand towards his room.

You’ve thought about it so many times, whisking away into his room with him to devour him completely. Usually it occurs when you’re mad stoned, happy and horny, but too blizted to make a move.

Your hands curtain the back of his neck, thumbs petting the nape of his neck and tangling themselves in his curls, rubbing in small circles. His lips connect to yours, stumbling over dirty laundry as he guides you to his bed. “Hmm, strawberries.”

He yelps as lands on his back, laughing as you collide with an oof. The playful moment is quickly replaced with intensity, staring down into his brown eyes, darkened by desire. Across the years of being his friend, he’s darkened his eyes in many moments, right before he decides to pin you down and tickle you senseless or when you talk down on yourself.

There were moments when his intense gaze took you aback, mostly when you innocently used too much enthusiasm in eating ice cream or put your hair up in a ponytail.

Or when you wore a sundress that sat a bit too high on your thigh.

All these moments suddenly make sense, filling you with a gust of emotion as you grab at him, tugging him harshly for a kiss much more powerful than you knew you had in you. He gasps into it, deep and desperate against your lips as you pull him closer. One of his hands travels downward, hiking under your skirt and grabbing at your thigh, your knee pulled up against his stomach.

Eddie turns you over on your back, hands grabbing at the skin harshly, his rings pressing at your skin hard enough to create an indent. Your leg wrapped around his waist tugs him down, his chest landing on yours.

“Question, my love,” Eddie mutters, words intertwined with his kisses. “Why the hell haven’t I seen this dress until now, it’s…oh my god.”

You grin against his lips, pushing your hands past his cotton shirt. “Waiting for a special occasion.”

“You telling me I could’ve seen this ages ago, baby?” He gasps, wrapping your tongue against his, delicate but enough to make you mewl into his mouth.

“Probably.”

He nips your lip, a punishment for your cheekiness. “It’ll look better on the floor.”

Your hips grind up, meeting the bulge in his pants just right. “You can’t say stuff like that–” you gasp, arms wrapping around his neck to hold on to him pathetically.

“You have no idea the things I’ve wanted to say to you.” His hand travels further up, passing the waistline of your panties and spreading on the skin of your tummy. “All the things I’ve held back…”

The admission is thrilling and terrifying, giving you almost everything you’ve ever wanted.

Now if you could get that bike you wanted for Christmas when you were twelve…

“Can you tell me now?” you ask, smiling up at his pretty, bewildered face.

“Hmm, patience,” he tuts, using his hand to explore. “Right now I just really want to touch your pussy, please, baby, please.”

It’s your turn for bewilderment. He’s acting like touching you is this great honor, instead of a means to an end like anyone else you’ve slept with. “Uh, yeah, I want that. I really, really want that.”

Eddie sighs, using his traveling hand and dipping it under the waistband of your panties. As his best friend, you’ve gotten so comfortable around him, arguably too much. Late nights in his room with a t-shirt and panties as his room fills with smoke. Eddie is only human, appreciating them too much as as you sat cross legged with the strip just a tad too thin for what it was supposed to cover.

This particular pair is decorated in lace up the front, a sheer lace for the bum, a light blue to match the flowers. His fingers latch to your pussy, delicately moving them up and down the folds.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, playing with the slick and spreading it. “You’re so wet, all this…all this for me?”

He adds more pressure, rubbing small circles and watching you throw your head back and melt in the heat that spreads across your thighs and takes form in a tremble, in a shake. “F-feels good.”

“Yeah?” he asks, placing his thumb on your clit and rotating it in tiny circles. “You like the way I play with your pussy, baby?”

You frantically nod, grinding up against him. “Need..need more. Please? More?”

“What does more mean?” He leans in, decorating your neck with sucks and bites and licks. “You want me to lick it, baby? You need my fingers, you already beggin’ for my cock? C’mon my girl, use your words.”

You might just beg for his cock, but you don’t want it to be over so quickly. “Want–want your fingers, Eds.”

He giggles, planting a nice wet kiss on your lips. “That’s my girl.” He doesn’t wait a second, curling one finger past your entrance and pumping it slowly, building a slow momentum that pulls at your stomach. He sighs, husky and deep, “Fuck, it’s so tight.”

He removes his finger without warning, not commenting on the moan in disappointment that escapes your mouth. He sits up, grabbing at the waistline as he tugs them down your legs, slowly, carefully, savoring in the moment. He lifts up the skirt, exposing the landing strip that sits waiting for his eyes.

“Did you decorate your pussy just for me? It looks so pretty… Thank you, baby girl,” Eddie is borderline emotional in his gratitude, showering you with praises.

Your legs attempt to close back together in embarrassment from his intense stare. He notices it, pushing your legs back down. “Do me a favor, won’t you? Keep these legs open while I eat your pussy.”

You drench your thighs, turned on even from the mere idea of being with him. “Mmkay.”

“You–” he gasps, delicately licking at the mound. “You taste so good. Wanted to bury my face in this little cunt for so long.”

His hands lift your thighs up and over his shoulder. His mouth tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing, listening to the cues you give him through your quivers and whines. The dress is completely covering his face, hiding the man that is eating you out, slowly and carefully, as if wanting to taste every drop of arousal you feed him.

Before long, your legs start shaking in his hold from the pleasure that has your hands tangled in your hair, eyes squeezed tight as he pulls whine after whine from you. One finger slides right back in, facing no resistance, sucking on your clit simultaneously. That arches your back and curls your toes, gasping from his build up, his words, god just from the years of mental torture.

You cum against his lips without warning, for him or yourself, twitching around his fingers and crying out his name.

He coaxes you through it, kissing your pretty pussy lips gently until your legs stop convulsing. Sweat beads on your forehead, spreading on your back and neck and making the thick fabric of the dress too hot. You untie each ribbon, desperately grabbing at the neckline to pull it up and off.

He kisses up your torso, laughing as you get stuck with the dress half off. One heel digs in his back in retaliation, whining as you gesture to him to help you. “I’m sorry, you’re just so cute.” Eddie giggles.

You whine, kicking your legs for him to hurry up. Your hair is stuck in your dress. It lifts over your head, a light bra covering your tits acting as a tease for him. The dress lands on the floor, nice and splayed out as it’s done its purpose.

You roll your eyes, tugging him in for a desperate kiss by the neck, wandering hands moving south to tug at his t-shirt. “Wanna see you, too,” you confess, helping him rid of his shirt. “Show me those tattoos.”

“You like the tatties?” You nod enthusiastically although you know he’s just teasing you. “Oh, I bet ya do. Probably ogled them while I wasn’t lookin’ huh?”

With a chest like his, you don’t imagine he could blame you. You let your eyes speak for you, raking over his covered chest and openly staring. “Wanna suck your cock.” You look up at him with big doe eyes, silently begging.

Eddie’s eyes widen at your admission, groaning as you start to undo his jeans. “Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll last that long…I need to be buried in you, wanna feel that pussy around my cock.”

You gulp, wrapping your legs around his torso so his jeans meet your pussy, probably drenching a wet spot on the front. “Me too…but I remember you said you didn’t really get reciprocated very much.” You inhale, gathering courage. “I remember thinking how I’d love to spend hours with your cock down my throat.”

Eddie keels over you, curling his face in your neck as he whimpers. “You were holding that back from me?” He punches the mattress right next to your head, a mild temper tantrum. “What other depraved thoughts have you been hiding from me?”

“You want me to tell you, or show you?” You’re not sure where this surge of confidence is coming from, but you’re running with it, especially if it means you can hear him make that sound again.

“Sh-show me- want you to show–” he nods, whimpering into your neck and shuddering.

“Mmkay,” you muse, smirking at just how easily the shoe falls on the other foot. “Get on your back.”

He complies promptly, wrapping his arm around the small of your back and turning the two of you over. You straddle him, grabbing at his chest carefully as you plant kisses all the way down his lean torso. You bring teeth into the mix, sucking and biting and marking your territory.

You’ve been itching to do so since he showed up one morning with bruises decorating his neck, claiming his hookup got a little too eager.

I'll show you eager, you begrudgingly think, wishing that all the boys were teasing him from bruises you gave him, instead. God, there was one planted on his collarbone that was excessively large, annoyingly so.

You mark your way down his chest, his stomach, lapping greedily at his treasure trail as he whimpers at your enthusiasm. This is power, you think to yourself, wondering what other noises you could conjure from him. As your mouth moves, so do your hands, undoing his belt slowly, taking your time as you unzip his fly.

The evidence of his arousal is strikingly clear, his boxers bulging out of the open fly and begging for your attention. While your subtle glances downward gave you an inkling of his size, his hardened cock presenting itself to you, even disguised in its plaid wrapping, had you letting out a gasp in unbridled lust.

You wrap your hand around it, gleaming as he hisses, a hushed swear passing through his lips. You watch his face, observing him as you place your lips on the covered shaft, just letting him feel the heat of your breath on it. “Oh, fuck–” Eddie chokes, letting out harsh shudders.

The sight of his face is borderline angelic, all of his walls down as he focuses on you. You can’t help but smile at that, at how you desperately wished for nights like these, only paying attention to one another. You poke your tongue out, drenching the cotton fabric with your spit, working your way down the length.

At his little whines, you finally curl his fingers under his waistband, drooling at the taut cock that pops out, giving you a friendly hello, swaying from the spring. You smile ear to ear, delicately wrapping your hand around the base.

You kiss the tip, lapping at the pearl of precum that gives the clear indication of his arousal, as if his hard on wasn’t enough. “Mmm,” you hum at the salty taste, leaning in to suck every last drop from his flushed tip.

You let the saliva that has pooled on the surface of your tongue drool onto his cock, spreading it down the shaft, absorbing the moan he rewards you with. “Shit, that feels–oh my god.”

You smile with pride, finally taking him into your mouth, enthusiastically bobbing up and down on his length. Your eyes remain on his, watching him as his face melts, committing it to memory.

“Oh, Jesus,” he swears, hips rutting up, clawing further into your mouth. You take him in further, gagging on it as you wrap your tongue around it experimentally, choking loudly and purposely. “Ch-choke on it, yeah, ch-ohmy god, just like that–”

Your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth, slobbery sounds of spit on flesh, his and yours, deliciously wet. He tenses up beneath you, whines growing more desperate, moans huskier, deeper. It’s a marvelous melody, one no composer could make even if they tried their hardest.

“St-st-stop,” he stutters, curling over himself, writhing under you. “Stop–I-I’m gonna cum.”

Reluctantly you listen, lifting your head off him with a pop and cheekily smiling at his heaving chest. You crawl upward, yelping as he wraps his arm around the small of your back and tugs you in for a kiss, more powerful, wrapped in an unnamed emotion you couldn’t possibly let yourself be delusional enough to define as. The one hand crawled up your back undoes the clasp of your bra, tugging it off your arms and flinging it across the room.

“Gimme those tits,” Eddie sighs, kneading them in his hands and toying with the flesh and nips. “Oh, they’re so pretty, baby. I love them, I‘ve wanted to play with them for so long.”

Eddie’s legs move under you, kicking off his jeans while holding you close to his chest. You sit up, tugging him up with you as you hover just over him.

His skin directly on yours, close and toe curling as you straddle his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you stare into his eyes. There’s a glow in them, eyebrows relaxed as he holds your hips, staring up at you with such enamour. “Want your cock,” it’s only a whisper, but loud in the intimacy between you two. “I want you.”

His brows furrow, only a moment. The thought passes through him quick as a flash, but you see it.

“What was that?”

He smiles, relieved and tender. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He leans in, pressing kisses on your clavicle, your neck, your shoulder, the swell of your breast. “Not-not just like this. I mean, fuck, I wanted it, so, so bad. But…I’ve wanted you, wanted your late nights and early mornings, to help you when you need to study, wash the dishes…sorry, I’m rambling.”

You pet his cheek, shaking your head. “No. Keep going.”

“I mean, we’ve always sort of had that, you know? It was just torture, not kissing you stupid whenever I wanted…because I wanted to. I wanted to, so much, baby. I love you. So much. You’re my best friend, my person, and I just love you so fucking much.”

A breath of a laugh passes through your lips, attempting to absorb what he had just told you. “Really?”

You smile, holding him tightly as you kiss him, sighing happily as he confirms, nodding frantically. The head brushes against your entrance, pulling a whine from you. “Eds, I-I love you, too.” The kisses get more fierce, Eddie clinging onto you harder and nearly attacking your lips. “But…if you don’t fuck me soon I might actually lose my mind,” You giggle.

He laughs, combing his fingers through your hair, away from your face, from the sweat. He slaps his cock against your clit, teasing you with his head. “Of course, baby, you wanna ride me, hmm? Hop up and down on my big fat cock?”

You nod, biting your bottom lip, hissing when he pushes his head in, watching as your jaw drops. “Oh, look at you, I knew you could take it like a good girl.”

You choke back a whine, swallowing hard as his words have such a strong effect on you. ‘Fuck, f-feels so good.” You stop, mewling as the burn of his girth becomes too much.

“Don’t rush yourself, baby, it’s okay.” He puts his hands on your hips, digging into the soft flesh. “So nice and tight, fuck.” His eyes practically roll to the back of his head.

You sink further, taking him deeper as the burn bleeds into bliss and back to burning again. “Jesus, s’good.”

“Mm, almost there, baby.”

“Move, please. Eds. Need-need you to move.”

Eddie chuckles, large hands holding your back. He lifts his hips, slowly filling you to the hilt and bringing it back out, one hand landing by his side to use it for leverage. You chirp out his name, mewling as he slowly rocks his hips. “Love the way you say my name,” he gasps.

You start rocking, slowly lifting your hips as you assist him. “You gonna make me scream it?”

“If that’s a challenge, then I will happily accept,” Eddie growls, gripping onto your hips harder and pulling you down so the union of where your bodies meet hurts in the best way. “Wonder when those legs will give up, hm?”

“I’ve thought about riding you on the couch too many times to give up easily,” you admit, giggling at his wicked grin.

“Oh, have you now? Been wearing those little panties just so I’d snap and ravish you, hmm?” He asks, hair wild as he watches you bounce on him.

“Maybe,” you admit, though that was mostly just out of comfort and trust of your best friend. “You have stronger will power than I thought you would.”

“Hmm, you think too much of me, baby,” Eddie mutters, framing your face with his hand and pulling you in for a kiss.

Admittedly, your legs are growing tired, but you soldier on, connecting your forehead with his desperately and watching his eyes glaze over. Your head already feels hazy, heat building in your stomach as you rapidly climb towards your climax. “You getting close? About to cum on my cock?”

You nod, startling in your movement as he starts to move you quicker with just the tightening of his grip on your hips. “Eds,” You whimper as he rubs his thumb on your clit, rapid movements as he hurdles you towards your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him as your eyes roll back.

“Lemme feel you squeeze my cock, baby, wanna feel you cum all over it.” Almost as he demands it into existence, you finish with a start, twisting your toes together and hunching over his shoulder while he rolls his hips, gasping and whining and mewling. “Oh, that’s my girl. Here, bet those legs’re gettin’ tired, hmm?”

You nod, giddily giggling as he maneuvers you on your back. “God, I love you. I really really do. I don’t–I don’t know what the fuck I’ve been thinking–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, giggling at his wide eyes. “Sorry, but…shut up. Rail me. Destroy me. We have time for all that later, now quit getting all emotional on me.” You take your hand off his mouth and pat his cheek. “Be a good boy and make me scream your name, won’t you?”

He chuckles deeply, his jaw dropping as he nips on the palm of your hand. “‘Be a good boy,’ hmm? Yes, ma’am.”

Okay, this turns you on too much not to eventually dissect it, but Eddie’s hips start moving, harsh and raw and brutal, just as you asked for. With each collision of his hips comes a whimper from the force, each one louder than the last.

His head curls down into your neck, sinking his teeth into your skin as he sucks and bites and laps his tongue over the pain. “Look at your neck, all marked up. All mine,” He rasps.

“All yours,” you whisper, choking on the emotion that fills your throat.

“My good girl who loves to get fucked hard, hmm?” He chuckles, curling his arms tightly around you. “Oh, listen to those pretty little noises you’re making, so pathetic for me, oh fuck.”

“Ed-keep-oh-oh–” you gasp, whining higher and higher.

“Yeah, just like that. Pathetic little princess.”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in close, skin to skin, all sticky and sweaty as the smell of sex fills the air.

“You’re moaning like a desperate little slut but you’re not screaming my name, yet. Can’t wait for it. Hmm? Why you makin’ me wait?”

“Maybe you’re not hitting hard enough,” you gasp, a smile spreading across your face.

Eddie’s eyes widen, lifting his body off yours quickly. “Oh yeah? Hands n’ knees. Turn around.” He sends a jolt of fear through you, eyes widening as move into a crawl position. “That’s a girl.”

His hands tighten on your hips, lining himself up and pushing in all within the span of 3 seconds. He’s relentless with it, lurching forward as he grabs a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, I can’t hear you.” He taunts you, pulling deliciously at your scalp.

He starts moving faster and harder, clumsily planting his lips on your back, messily trying to take any claim he can on you. One hand slaps your ass, Eddie hums, appreciating the print of his hand on your skin. Moans pass through your lips, the loud ones that Eddie was asking of you. HIs name is added into the mix, cross eyed and desperate as he somehow increases his force.

“There we are. Where do ya want me to cum, baby, I’m so fuckin’ close.”

“Cum–cum in me, Eds. Fill me up.”

“Fuck-you, y’sure?”

“Fill. Me up.” You say again, getting your point across.

“Oh fuck–” he stutters, jaggedly rutting into you as he bends over you, filling you up with sticky white ropes. “You feel that, baby? Fuck. You feel all full?”

Eddie releases the hold on your hair as you fall forward, breathing heavily as you collect yourself. He pulls himself out, collapsing right next to you. His arms easily wrap around your back, pulling you in against his chest. You curl into him, sighing happily as you listen to his racing heart.

You lay like that for a while, listening to his breathing even out as he pets your hair gently. He plants a kiss on your forehead, humming. “Why did that take us so long to do?” You ask, still trying to regain control over your breathing.

“Hmm?” He pulls away, processing your question. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re idiots.”

You tug him back in, feeling sleepy as you smile against his chest. “Yeah. Big, big idiots. I love you, idiot.”

He hums, pulling you in tighter. “Love you too, ya idiot.”

It’s strange. You thought it would change everything if he were to finally be yours. It doesn’t change anything, banter traded as always, only with a caressing hand that tugs you in for a kiss when he teases you. Hormones go wild, finding resolve in one another as movies are no longer watched, just a nice background noise.

-

Thank you so much for reading, remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

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bold means it wouldnt let me tag you so I DM'd you in private to you know.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader smut

[barcaatthemoon]

closing the distance || alexia putellas x reader ||

you surprise alexia with your transfer to barcelona.

alexia looked absolutely adorable as she laid in bed. the two of you usually facetimed each other for a little while after your respective trainings. it wasn't uncommon for you to just be sitting in your car while you spoke to her, so she didn't question anything in the background.

"hi baby," you greeted alexia. her lips curled into a smile at the term of endearment. the two of you were alone, which meant that alexia didn't have to act so serious. "how did you sleep?"

"as well as i can without you next to me. when will you be down for a visit? i've been missing you," alexia said. you were surprised that she hadn't been whining and pouting a lot more. usually, she threw a little fit until you slotted her into your schedule. alexia was very needy, which had surprised you whenever the two of you first got together.

"soon, very soon. that's actually why i'm calling you right now. i thought that you'd want to know before the news actually breaks." alexia sat up in her bed, knowing exactly what you were talking about already. the two of you had already been through several conversations about your transferring once your contract was up. a lot of the girls had been sad to see you go, especially stina and frida, but you needed to be closer to alexia.

the two of you had been together for a long time, already having lived together for short stints of time whenever you were still living in spain. your transfer to arsenal had nearly destroyed your relationship, and if it wasn't for alexia's spanish teammates talking some sense into her, you knew that it would be nonexistent. however, now the two of you were approaching a few years together, and the natural progression of things to you felt like marriage, which you knew alexia would only agree to if you moved to barcelona with her.

"i want to hear you say it," alexia said.

"it's not official yet, i have to sign the contract first," you told her. alexia's face fell for a moment, but only until you spoke up again. "that's what i was trying to tell you. i'm in barcelona for a bit, and i was wondering if i could stay with you for the week."

"you don't have to ask, this is your home too," alexia told you. you smiled as you moved to get out of your car, which was the first time that alexia realized you weren't in london anymore. "are you outside of apartment building?"

"i am. i had my last practice last week," you told her. alexia dropped her phone as she ran out to see you. you laughed to yourself as you hung up and slipped your phone into your bag. within a minute, alexia was running out to the parking lot and nearly tackling you in a hug. "ale!"

"te amo-," alexia pressed a kiss to your cheek, "-i have missed you, mi amor."

"i missed you too, baby." alexia lifted you up off of the ground in her arms. she set you down gently, pressing several kisses all over your cheeks. you laughed from the sensation of her lips tickling your skin slightly. "let me grab my suitcase and we can go up together."

"don't bother, i've got it," alexia said confidently. you rolled your eyes at her, but let her grab your bags anyway. "i can't believe that you're moving back in with me. we can eat breakfast together, go out for lunches, and i can show you all of my mami's recipes. i don't care about anything other than catching up with you this week. i'm keeping you all to myself."

"you can have me until i sign my contract. i did promise mapi that we'd go out for drinks if i ever came back to barcelona," you reminded alexia. it had been one of the only ways for you to convince the defender to let you go. you had been a good friend of hers at athletico when you had played there together, and she was almost worse than alexia about the idea of losing you.

"i am sure that i can convince you to stay in with me." alexia wiggled her eyebrows and flexed a little. as silly as you found her sometimes, the flexing was unfortunately extremely attractive to you. it was alexia's surefire distraction, and she knew it.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!wonwoo, nerdy!wonwoo, sub!wonwoo, subdom!reader, mentions of sfw pics being taken behind your back, corruption, wonwoo's first time, dry humping, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 2599

a/n: thank u to anon who inspired this ur a real one

masterlist

in this day and age, you knew that a mere college degree would likely not be enough for you to find a job within your field.

you were a creative, hoping to one day work as a photographer or maybe get into the creative design field upon graduating. however, you'd heard the horror stories of fellow graduates entering the terrifying world that came after college, with many unable to land a solid gig after graduating.

that's how you landed yourself a spot in the yearbook committee, becoming both a photographer and editor throughout these past few months.

that was also how you came to meet jeon wonwoo, the enigmatic boy who had become your partner any time you'd be assigned to photograph at school events.

despite spending quite a bit of time with wonwoo, attending every school event with him, you were yet to really get to know him. wonwoo was likely the shyest guy you'd met in all the years you'd spent at college so far. it was extremely hard to get to know him, as he would be only mumble and shy away any time you tried to make conversation with him. so far, all you knew about him was that he was a photography major (an extremely talented one at that), he was part of the gaming club (information you got from your friend vernon), and that he was generally very into stereotypically nerdy stuff.

none of this information was too groundbreaking, which only made you even more curious about wonwoo. it seemed like he'd specifically go out of his way to avoid you, stuttering like crazy when you'd try and make conversation and attempting to work separately any time you were assigned to photograph at the same locations.

all this only made your current situation all the more interesting, as you now found yourself at wonwoo's door, pondering on whether to knock on the door or not.

for some backstory, it was finally the end of your junior year of college, meaning that most of the work necessary for the production of the yearbook had been completed. all that needed to be done now solely consisted of editorial stuff as you finessed the final product.

this meant that you'd have to meet up with wonwoo to collaborate on the overlay of the yearbook, with the two of you being assigned the duty due to having worked together for most of the past two semesters.

you had jumped at this opportunity, entirely too interested in the shy, glass-clad boy. as embarrassed as you were to admit it, you had developed a bit of a crush on wonwoo. his constant stuttering and nerves around you gave you a strange thrill you had never experienced before. maybe you had a thing for losers, who knew.

and so you decided that now that you had this opportunity to visit wonwoo, being able to get him alone, you'd have a little fun.

yeah, maybe you had put on the tiniest clothes you could get away with wearing out in public. and yes, maybe you had worn that lipgloss you had once seen wonwoo eyeing on you. but could you be blamed? the thought of breaking him excited you too badly, completely sure but now that he must've held a bit of a crush on you (at least based on his constant nerves around you).

finally knocking on the door, you waited a few moments before a messy-haired wonwoo opened the door, giving you a sheepish smile as he welcomed you in.

his apartment was clean, but you could still tell that this had been a rushed effort, being able to spot some clothing misplaced and a few bowls scattered on some pieces of furniture. other than that, it seemed like wonwoo was likely cleaner than the average male college student.

after quietly looking around, you finally turned to wonwoo, who had been watching you quietly as his hands anxiously played with the oversized sleeves of the cardigan he was wearing.

"do you wanna work in your room or on the couch?", you asked.

somehow, you had caught him off guard, making him stumble over his words before muttering that his bed would be better, as it was bigger.

entering his room, you couldn't help a silent giggle at how predictable it looked, filled with star wars and marvel posters on the wall, along with some figurines. the room also included a clearly expensive pc and a few gaming consoles, obviously accompanied by a gaming chair.

liberally taking a seat in the middle of his bed, you allowed your skirt to flow highly enough for your legs to become exposed. you grinned to yourself when wonwoo took a seat beside you, gulping at the sight before opening his macbook on his lap.

once again, without any invitation, you scoot closer to him to get a better view, enjoying the intake of breath you heard from the boy.

after that, you actually worked together for a while, quietly discussing what content you'd leave in and what you'd take out. it was quite enjoyable, actually. you had known wonwoo to have a great creative eye, having seen his photography before, but it surprised you that he was just as good at graphic design.

you voiced this praise to him, making him chuckle awkwardly as he shook his head in denial.

"no, i'm serious, wonwoo. you're so good at this," you repeated.

"ah, n-no, it's just- i'm not that good," he muttered, lowering his head a bit and keeping his eyes on the screen to avoid looking at you.

no, this just wouldn't do.

going on a leap, you scoot even closer, now with your side completely pressed up against his own. bringing your hand up to his chin, you made him face you, smiling at the clear panic in his face.

"wonwoo ... why can't you take my compliment? hmm? you don't believe me?", you murmured, keeping your distance far too small as you awaited his answer.

"i-it's not that, it's just that-"

cutting off his muttering, you continued, "want me to show you? show you that i mean it?", your eyes lowered to his lips before going back to his eyes, hoping that that was enough of a hint for him to know what you meant.

gulping again, his eyes looked to your lips too, looking back up before parting his lips, attempting to make some sort of sound but failing, simply whimpering pathetically.

his whimper was enough to ruin you, making you close the gap between you with a soft kiss.

pathetically, he whined against you as you did all the work, leaving soft kisses against his lips up until your tongue made use of the small gap of his lips, sneaking in and encouraging him to follow along in your movements.

you sighed softly against his lips, wanting nothing more than to encourage his kisses. when he finally began kissing back, you repositioned yourself on the bed, pushing off the laptop and kneeling in front of him without ever breaking the kiss. like a good boy, he followed you in your movements, allowing you to lay him down on the bed as you climbed over him.

pulling away, you chuckled against his lips as he pathetically followed your lips with a whine, hands uncharacteristically holding onto your hips as he held you against him.

"wonwoo," you breathed out against his lips, "is it okay if i take off my clothes, baby?"

"y-yes, fuck. please. i- i mean, you don't have to, but, fuck, i-"

"shhh. it's okay, baby. i'll take them off, yeah? then it's your turn," you reassured, throwing off your skimpy summer dress before snapping off your bra and struggling your way out of your panties before sitting back on him.

the sight of the nerdy boy under you as he salivated over every new inch of skin you exposed to as laughable. his eyebrows were furrowed in the a manner that made it look like he was in pain. his breathy gasps at the revelation of your breasts had given you a huge ego boost, making you play with them for a bit for his viewing satisfaction. after that you leaned down again, going back to what had first started all this.

"you're so pretty, wonwoo ... so talented and nice and pretty. my pretty nonu," you breathed into his lips, giving him no chance to respond.

he still did his best, shaking his head, insisting that you were the pretty one. that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

"n-no, you ... you're so pretty fuck, i- i've always wanted you ... fuck, is that, is that okay? always thought you were the prettiest girl ... get so nervous around you," he confessed, sighing when your arms went under his shirt, toying at his nipples before helping him remove his cardigan and shirt.

now shirtless, you practically salivated over his body, feeling him up like you were entirely depraved of touch. he was far more buff and delicious than you had ever imagined. wonwoo seemed to enjoy it just as much, letting out desperate breaths as you felt him up. before long, his sounds became even higher and whinier, as your hands made their way to his pants, pushing them down as best as you could before getting a hold of his already hardened cock.

"a-ah, t-that's ... fuck, a-are you sure?", gasped wonwoo, squirming under you like the pretty little nerd you'd been wanting for so long.

"yes, nonu. is it okay? is it okay when i play with your pretty cock like this?", your hand wrapped tighter around him, bringing his member out of his boxers and jerking him faster as he nodded desperately in approval.

"it's so good, fuck ... feels so ... so nice. please ..."

he was already such a whimpering mess and you hadn't even started working on his pleasure. unknowingly, wonwoo was slowly corrupting your mind, making you feel a monstrous need to do every nasty thing imaginable to the pretty boy moaning under you.

with a groan, you repositioned yourself, leaning back a little so you could drag your pussy against his cock. the thought alone made your eyes roll back. and the execution? the execution had you whimpering at the sudden stimulation, falling in love with the hardness of wonwoo's cock.

in the meantime wonwoo had lost all ability to produce any sort of sound, letting out breathless whimpers at the feeling of your cunt dragging against him, glasses fogged up and hands digging into your hips to unknowingly try and guide you against his dick.

"y/n ... oh, fuck ... p-please ... need- need more, oh, please ..."

dry humping could only go so long, but you wanted to drag it as much as you could. the sight and sound of wonwoo begging for you had you on cloud nine. he was so handsome and well built that you couldn't help but become hypnotized to the sight under you as you humped him with no shame.

the pretty mess under you continued to beg, strong arms even coming to stop your movements when the pleasure got too much, pleading at you to please let him have your cunt.

"g-give it to me. please. need to feel it, i- i've never had it before. need t-to know. need it to be you, fuck, please ..."

oh? was the pretty boy a virgin? were you about to deflower the mess under you?

wonwoo should've never let you in on this information, as it immediately drove you crazy with desire. you needed to claim him, mark him as yours and keep him all to yourself forever.

without hesitating any longer, you lowered yourself on him, groaning out at the stretch while wonwoo let out the prettiest high-pitched moan you had ever heard. it was pathetic how his deep voice fell to mere whimpers at the simple touch of a woman. yet it made you tighten around him all the tighter.

your hips bounced on his thin thighs, hand dipping in so you could play with your clit. maybe one day you'd teach him how to give you pleasure in such a way, but for now you just wanted to ruin him.

"gonna cum ... i- fuck, im gonna cum. c-can i? please?", he pleaded, eyes shut closed in pleasure.

it took you a few moments to answer, not wanting to leave him waiting for too long during his first time, but needing to get yourself to the edge in order to cum with him. within a few seconds he repeated his pleas, this time even more pathetically than before. this was what broke you, making you nod and whimper in affirmation as your own orgasm took over.

"such a g-good boy for me, nonu," you leaned down to kiss him, wanting to give him as much intimacy as you could for his first time.

kissing you back, he wrapped his arms around you, consistently crying praises against your lips. he let you know how badly he loved your cunt, how much he'd fantasized about this. the rest got muddled in the endless whimpers he let out.

after riding your high, you laid against his him, ear against his chest as you caught your breaths. his skin was clammy and his heartbeat fast. you loved being the cause of both things.

"does ... does this mean you like me back?" he murmured.

nodding against his chest, you left a few kisses against the skin, "yes, wonwoo. i've liked you for a while."

he exhaled in relief, "fuck, thank god."

your let yourself roll over from on top of him and lay on his side, finding a more comfortable position to cuddle with him.

then you suddenly remembered.

"shit, we gotta finish the yearbook."

it was his turn to chuckle, "let's nap for a while first. i'll wake up and get the final details later. promise."

you took his promise in the form of the union of pinkies, taking his advice of taking a nap as the surprisingly buff boy held you in his arms, falling into slumber quickly after.

~

ironically, you woke up before he did, approximately two hours after having fallen asleep in his arms. spotting the laptop on the floor, you decided to do him the favor of doing the final touches yourself, deciding that this would somehow be some form of aftercare as he regained his energy by sleeping.

shockingly enough, having the initiative to work on the unfinished yearbook spread as wonwoo continued to sleep next to you proved quite interesting as you finally got hold of the computer.

you hadn't meant to snoop, but a folder hidden on the corner immediately caught your attention. you hadn't noticed it earlier, as wonwoo had the computer on his own lap the entire time, but its title consisted of your initials, making you entirely too curious about it.

opening it, you had to hold in your gasp upon finding about twenty pictures of you out and about at each of the events you'd attended with wonwoo to photograph for the yearbook. for candids, they were quite beautiful.

in any other situation, you wouldve been rightfully freaked out. but the thought of shy little wonwoo fantasizing about you as he took pictures of you to look at later only made you want to claim him even more.

looking to the pretty boy softly snoring next to you, you were already planning all the ways in which you'd mock and berate him over it, all while you ruined him under you yet again.

#seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen #svt #seventeen oneshot #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo oneshot #wonwoo smut

[gremlingottoosilly]

I need more mafia koing sharing His wife with His friends it’s so hot but this time can we have a threesome🤭 -🐈‍⬛

Horangi rocks you on his cock, pushing as deep as possible - forcing his way in even as you beg him to stop and give you some time to rest. He is smaller than Konig, never breaking you in quite as much as your dearest husband, but you're tighter than usual today. Your walls are squeezing his cock for all its worth and he had to admit that even he has troubles with keeping himself from cumming too fast. You're perfect - your cries and pleas only make him slam into you harder, and it feels almost like you're teasing him. Your cunt is way too perfect to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and he is almost ready to betray the boss for the possibility of fucking you like this every day. Key word - almost ready. Konig is here, after all, never missing an opportunity to fuck his dearest little wife into a sloppy and sobbing mess that has all of her brain cells fucked out by orgasm after orgasm. He knows there is no way he can fit into your lower holes right now - his cock is too big for you to take on most of the days and definitely too huge now. It's okay though - he can wait. He will wait. You're way too precious for him to break you so easily while he can just enjoy your throat squeezing his cock so nicely. Your lipstick is smeared all over, pretty red that you gushed so much about - Konig knows you hate accepting his gifts, always seeing blood dripping from each penny he gets, but you like expensive things too much. This, and the fact he is not scared of punishing you in case you're being too feisty. Krueger is the reason for your special tightness today - the man had just got a really expensive and important target, held for ransom for some dirty politician - and he deserves a reward in the form of fucking your ass until you're a dumb mess cluttering your words. Of course, Konig couldn't accept preferential treatment and got Horangi to fuck your pussy for being such a helper in ransom negotiations - and also as a helping hand in making you as dumb on their cocks as possible. You're already limp, clinging to kisses and pats on your head like a kitten, getting your brain fucked out of all three of your holes. It's hard to find a rhythm between three very different men - but they have a goal in mind, and you're far too precious to be broken. Don't worry, they will hydrate you after, your husband gently caressing your hair as you lay on Horangi's chest. His lips on your forehead in a rare show of intimacy - all while boss allows him to be a bit sappy. Krueger already cleans you up and fixes you some snacks - always getting in a serving position because he is not quite as open with his desire to cling to you like a man drowning. If you close your eyes, you can almost ignore their hushed conversations about drugs, guns and moving of a new target. If you shut your ears, you can almost pretend you don't see pointed glares Konig sends to his men as they become too gentle. You still belong only to him, after all.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #mafia!konig #horangi x reader #krueger x reader

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭�� - 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

word count: 3.4k

summary: Friends with benefits never worked, especially when that friend had been by your side longer than not, and even more so when both of you were too scared to admit your feelings out loud. While jealousy was a nasty thing, it always brought the truth out.

warnings: implications of smut but no actual smut, kissing, angst, jealous dickhead jack, misunderstandings, pining

For as long as you could remember, you’d spent the majority of your summer with the Hughes’ at their lake house. You’d beg and beg your mom to let you go with them, even though she said yes every time. You’d spend the week before you were supposed to leave with them packing and making sure you brought everything you thought you could possibly need. Jack had always poked fun at you and called you an over packer, but you told him you like to think of it as better prepared for any disaster that could potentially happen.

Now that you were older, not much had changed in most of those aspects. You still asked your mom to ensure that nothing was occurring over summer that you couldn’t miss, and you still very much overpacked. However, there were two small differences now. The lake house you visited now belonged to Jack and Quinn as opposed to their parents, yet you still visited them as often as you could, and your relationship with Jack was a bit different.

After one drunken night during your week-long visit to Jersey, you found yourself tangled in his sheets and woke up the following morning in his arms. You had woken up before Jack, and memories of what occurred only hours ago flooded your mind at a speed that made you dizzy and nauseous. Though maybe that was more courtesy of how much you had drank the prior night. When you tried to slip out of the sheets, his grip on your waist tightened and he pulled you closer into his chest.

“You runnin’ away,” His tired voice vibrated against your shoulder as his thumb caressed the skin of your hip.

“No,” You whispered, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel just how loudly your heart was beating in your chest, “Maybe.”

Jack’s laughter rumbled against your back as he flexed his arm against you, and you couldn’t help but let your body relax against him, your eyes fluttering closed as your breathing steadies. His body was warm against yours, and you let reminders of him pressed against you as he whispered sinful things in your ear fill your head. It was a night you were surely to never forget, but the uncertainty of this morning made the nagging feeling of anxiety linger.

“You can get up if you want,” He mumbled as he began to place small, open mouthed kisses to the skin where your neck and shoulder meet, “Or we can go for round four.”

Needless to say, you didn’t end up leaving Jack’s bed that day until well into the afternoon. From that day on, you were constantly walking a fine line that determined your relationship with him, often straying far off the path into unfamiliar territory when you found yourself in his bed all over again. Neither of you dared to have the conversation of what it meant to the other, instead choosing to live in the moment and just hope and pray that nothing was ruined. But of course, that was wishful thinking and it all came apart at the seams over the summer.

When you arrived at the lake house like you always did every summer, it was the same as every year before. Jack was waiting in the driveway to carry your bags inside and up to the room right beside the one he always claimed as his own. He stayed in your room, perched on the edge of the bed as he talked your ear off while you unpacked your things. However, this time he made subtle, inappropriate comments when you pulled out a bikini or a bra that was a little see through.

His words rang in your ears, a deep blush decorating your cheeks as you shook your head and kept putting your things where you always had. You heard the sound of the bed groan followed by the sound of his footsteps nearing you, and your heart began to thud in your chest. His hand carefully grabbed your hip, turning your body so that you were now facing him with your chest flush against his own.

You peered up at him, your eyes wide as he looked down at you with a smug smirk on his face. His fingers were delicately pressing into the flesh on your hips, his eyes dancing across your face as he slowly leaned forward. It was what he always did when he wanted to kiss you; it was his way of making sure you were okay with it without asking because asking made what the two of you were doing much more real.

“Jack,” You breathed out as his lips ghost over your own, your hands nervously fisting the material of his shirt, “What if someone walks in?”

“They won’t,” He whispers, placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth,  “You just have to be quiet.”

When you went back downstairs, you avoided eye contact with everyone in fear that they heard the escapades you and Jack were up to only moments prior. None of them seemed to have heard anything, though, based on the way they only stopped their conversations to greet you rather than to give you knowing looks. However, Quinn did glance between you and his brother far too many times for you to not think he didn’t suspect something.

The first couple of weeks of the summer went by as they always did with only a slight change. While everyone still spent a good majority of their time outside or on the water, you and Jack would often sneak away on your own to explore each other's bodies in ways that made you blush to even think about. Every time the boys would drag you to the golf course to be their self appointed cart girl, Jack would leave lingering touches on the curve of your ass or he’d whisper comments in your ear that left you with clenching thighs.

Truthfully, you were surprised that no one had noticed, or at least no one had said anything about it. Your room was directly in between Jack’s and the one that Trevor and Alex shared, and the fact that they hadn’t heard the two of you at night truly baffled you. You did your best to keep quiet, but the bed you slept on creaked with every passing movement and no attempt at fixing it ever worked. Either way, you were grateful your bedroom activities seemed to go undetected.

You never let yourself really think too much on how you felt about Jack, but the more often you found him telling you how beautiful you were, how much he worshiped your body, the harder it got to ignore those feelings. The more often you found yourself encased in his arms, the harder it got to tell yourself that you hadn’t fallen for the boy you’d known almost your entire life. 

“I thought this was supposed to be a few people,” You laughed as you scoured the sea of people for familiar faces.

“That’s what Quinn said, but I’m sure Jack and Trevor went overboard with inviting every girl they met,” Alex laughs as he hands you a drink from the cooler.

There was no stopping the way your chest burned with jealousy as you thought about Jack inviting other girls, but you knew you had no right to feel that way. He wasn’t your boyfriend. Hell, the two of you never even claimed to be exclusive with just each other when it came to hooking up. It was a thought you tried not to dwell on too much because it made bile form in your throat and frustrated tears prick your eyes.

It didn’t help that you hadn’t seen him since people started filtering in through the front door. He had left a little earlier in the day, only telling you that he would be back later, nut he had yet to come back. You had texted him and asked him if he was okay, but your text was left unanswered and that did nothing to cease the nerves twisting and turning in your stomach.

“Yeah, probably,” You forced out, your lips forming a tight line as you looked away from Alex.

You followed him out to the back deck with Cole, doing your best to ignore the anxious nagging in your chest as you mingled with those around you. There were quite a few people you had never met, and you were doing your best to remember whose name was whose, but it was a little difficult when your mind was elsewhere. All you could think about was Jack and the fact that maybe he was too busy with another girl to even remember you. 

It wasn’t long after you had gone outside that everyone migrated to the chairs by the water, but there weren’t enough for each person to have their own seat, so you ended up in Alex’s lap. It wasn’t necessarily uncommon for you to end up in the lap of one of the boys, but it was uncommon for it to be someone other than Jack. Alex was respectful and kept one hand on his drink and the other resting on the arm rest, not touching you in a way that could potentially make you uncomfortable. However, if anyone were to glance at the two of you, you know what assumption they would make.

Everything still felt slightly off without Jack at your side, but you slowly let yourself enjoy what was going on around you rather than think about him and what he was doing. You fell into conversations easily, laughing with the others as they told their stories. Eventually you got tired of sitting straight up and leaned back onto Alex to relax. The both of you knew it meant nothing, but if you were on the outside looking in, it meant you were making a sort of silent declaration to everyone that you were off limits.

Jack had spent the last several hours going to every store he could in search of your favorite drink because he knew how much you hated what they always had at the house. He knew you would never say anything because you never wanted to inconvenience anyone, so he always took it upon himself to get it for you. However, when he had gotten back with Trevor after he finally managed to find it, the last thing he expected to see was you cuddled up against his friend's chest.

“Did you find her– Oh, there she is,” Trevor spoke over the loud music coming from the speakers in the living room, “Is that Alex?”

Jack said nothing in response, instead turning on his heels and going back towards the kitchen with Trevor watching him in confusion. He placed the drink he had grabbed for you back in the fridge, tucked behind whatever items he could use to keep them hidden so no one took them. He grabbed a drink of his own before he silently slipped into the crowd of people, trying to force the image his mind had curated of you underneath a body that wasn’t his own.

You had no idea Jack was back until Alex had gotten up to go play beer pong with one of the other guys and you had made the decision to go back inside. It was Trevor that you saw first as he was leaning against the wall next to some tall redhead you vaguely remember seeing earlier. You furrowed your brows in confusion because if he was back, so was Jack, and that meant that Jack hadn’t bothered to find you or even tell you. 

Your chest tightens as you let your thoughts drift more into the possibility that Jack had found another girl for the night. There was no stopping yourself from searching for him amongst the horde of party goers, standing on your toes to give yourself a better view. You made awkward eye contact with a few people, but you didn’t pay them any mind as you searched for the one person you were looking for. Though the second your gaze finally settled on him, the room began to spin and the voices around you faded into almost nothing.

He had his arm thrown around the shoulders of one of the girls you recognized from the filling station for the boats, a smile on his face as she animatedly talked to him. Your heels fell flat on the ground as you dropped your eyes to the floor, doing your best to keep your emotions at bay as you stood frozen in your spot. It felt like a million needles were poking at your lungs, like someone was wrapping their hands around your throat making it almost impossible to breathe.

You had to force yourself to move, to get away from the situation occurring only a few feet away from you, before you let the thread that was holding you together finally snap. It was pure instinct that moved your feet towards the stairs of the house, and you hoped that your presence would go undetected as you brushed by the group that Jack was in the middle of. 

However, unbeknownst to you, Jack saw you the second you stepped foot inside the house, his eyes drawn to you in the same way a magnet was drawn to metal. He had to make himself look away from you as the girl he had been using as a distraction continued a story he wasn’t really paying attention to. Though, when he saw you slip up the stairs out of the corner of his eye, she was long forgotten as he hastily followed after you before he even knew what he was doing.

Blood was rushing in your ears as you blinked away tears that were pricking the corners of your eyes, the sounds of the party below you fading into nothing but an obnoxious hum. You were oblivious to the sound of Jack’s footsteps behind you as you pushed your way into your room, and you didn’t register the fact that you never heard the sound of the door closing behind you. It wasn’t until you heard him call out your name that you knew you weren’t alone.

You turned on your heels, eyes wide as they meet his own. He carefully shuts the door behind him, taking a few strides until he’s so close to you that you can see the confliction swimming in his gaze. His fingers twitch towards you the same way your own do towards him, but neither of you make an attempt to close the small gap separating you. His eyes are unwavering from your face as if he was trying to get a read on you, trying to figure out what your next move was.

“Did he do something,” Jack asked, a dull anger forming in his chest once he noticed the unshed tears lining your eyes.

“Who,” You sniffled, knitting your brows together in confusion.

“Alex,” He said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world, which it was. To him.

You slightly narrowed your eyes at him, not understanding exactly why he assumed Alex had been the reason for your escape, but then it slowly pieced itself together. Jack must have seen you with Alex when you were outside. He must’ve seen the way you were seated in his lap and made the same assumption many others had, but even then, it confused you. Why would he care if he was off with another girl?

 There was a multitude of emotions filling the room around you, meshing together like an uncomfortable quilt had been thrown over the two of you. His lips were slightly parted as he looks at you, the light filtering in through the window illuminating his face in a way that made him look like he was glowing. It made the desire to surge forward and kiss him almost impossible to suppress. Almost.

“Alex didn’t do anything,” You shook your head, averting your gaze away from his own, “Why do you think he did something?”

Jack nervously clears his throat before speaking, trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, “You two looked pretty cozy outside, and you looked upset when I saw you, so I just assumed.”

His attempt at appearing indifferent failed miserably, like it always did. Jack had never been very good at hiding his distaste in his body language, and that showed in the way his eyes narrowed and his fist balled at his side even if it was only for a fleeting second. He wore his emotions on his sleeve, but that didn’t mean they made any sense to you. 

“Not sure why you care,” You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms against your chest, an angry annoyance slowly replacing whatever you had been feeling before, “You looked pretty cozy yourself with fill station girl.”

“At least she wasn’t in my lap practically telling everyone she wanted to fuck me,” He scoffed, his voice clipped and harsh.

“Do you think I would still be up here, with you, if I wanted to fuck Alex,” You snapped, ignoring the way your heart was thudding so loudly in your chest that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it.

“Do you think I would follow you up here if I wanted anything to do with her,” He countered, his gaze fiery and burning into your own.

“Not sure, maybe she wasn’t going to give you what you wanted and you think I will,” You mocked as your voice cracked, a few tears managing to slip down your cheeks.

Jack’s eyes softened the moment he saw your impassive demeanor falter. He slowly and hesitantly brought his hands to your face to cradle your jaw in his palms, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I know that I shouldn’t have done that, but seeing you with Alex. I got jealous and angry, even though I shouldn't have.”

His touch is warm as he wipes at the tears on your skin, your entire body heating up as he kept your focus on him. He’s looking at you like he’s waiting for you to tell him exactly what he wants, what he needs to hear. Jack wants you to tell him that he had no reason to get jealous. Not because he had no right, but because it was only him that you wanted.

“You’re right,” You breathe out, hoping that you were reading the situation correctly, “You shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want Alex like that, and I never will, but do you know who I do want?”

He swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he quietly asks, “Who?”

“You.”

Finally, Jack closes the gap between you by slamming his lips on your own in a way that would’ve knocked you over if it hadn’t been for his hold on you. Your hands instinctively fly up to his shirt, fisting the material as you kiss him back, falling into nothing but the way his lips feel on yours. No matter how many times you kissed him, it was like you were experiencing it for the first time all over again.

He carefully walks backwards to your bed, not breaking away from you once as he drops his hands to your hips. He slowly falls back onto the mattress, pulling you onto his lap as you place your knees on either side of his thighs. Your hands find their way up to tangle in his hair, gently tugging on the strands to elicit a quiet groan that vibrates against your mouth. 

“I want you, too,” He mumbles as he begins to kiss down your jaw and to the column of your neck, “I want to tell everyone you’re my girl. I want to be able to kiss you in public. I want all of you.”

“What do I get in return,” You breathlessly tease, your head falling backwards as Jack explores your neck with his mouth.

“You’ve always had me, baby, so you can have whatever you want.”

“Can I drive the boat when you wake surf tomorrow?”

“You can have anything but that.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes one shot

[flickering-chandelier]

I’ll Look After You

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: just needed a little hurt/comfort with my man bc I’ve been in such an Azriel mood lately. Azriel comes back from a mission all beat up and Reader forces him to lay back and be taken care of.

Word Count: 1.7k

You were well aware that your mate was amazing at his job. The best of the best, especially with the additional benefit of his shadowsinger abilities.

This knowledge, however, did not stop you from anxiously wringing your hands every time you knew he was going off on a dangerous mission, especially when he was going alone.

Especially when he said he would be back by now and he still wasn’t.

Normally, you were quite quiet and reserved, not usually one to pick a fight, especially with your High Lord. Unless, of course, your mate was in danger. Then, all bets were off.

You stormed into Rhysand’s study, where he and Cassian were deep in conversation. Rhys looked at you with resignation, and you knew that he was well aware of why you had come bursting through his door without so much as a knock.

“He’s not back yet,” you choked out.

“I know,” Rhysand said. He was using his High Lord voice, the one that he used to assure everyone that he had everything under control.

“Why isn’t he back yet?” You felt your anger and your panic rising, heard your voice crack.

“I don’t know,” Rhysand said gently. “But--”

“But nothing,” you snapped. “Go get him.”

Rhysand raised his eyebrows, clearly saying without saying, this is how you’re speaking to your High Lord right now?

But he knew you well enough that he didn’t seem truly offended.

Cassian finally spoke up, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You know we can’t do that. Nobody can know where we have him snooping around. The only reason he went alone is because we can’t hide in the shadows.”

You were about to snap at him, too, when you felt a tug through the bond. “He’s here,” you practically shrieked, sprinting out of the room and out to the balcony where you knew he landed as fast as you could.

It was an effort to hold in your gasp as you saw him staggering towards the doorway, one hand clutching his side, his armor bloody, his wings drooping behind him.

You flung open the door, and wrapped your arms around his neck as gently as you could. “Az,” you said, choking on your sob.

Despite his injuries, he wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “I’m okay, baby,” he rasped.

You had to bite down your comment that, no, he certainly was not. You put an arm around his waist and he slung his free arm over your shoulder. He was still clutching his side as you led him to your shared bedroom.

Rhysand and Cassian were in the hallway as you passed. “Do you need any--” Cassian said.

The glare you shot them both silenced him.

Azriel chuckled, and then groaned, like it pained him. “You weren’t picking a fight with the High Lord and the commander of armies over me, were you?”

“Of course not,” you lied through your teeth.

“Mmhmm. Sure,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with amusement. That, at least, was a good sign.

When you finally reached your room, you led him into your bathroom, helping him sit on the side of the massive tub.

You started running the water, and then stepped back to survey him. “How bad is it, really?” you said, quietly, trying to keep your tears at bay. That wouldn’t do anybody any good right now.

“I’ve had worse,” he grunted.

Raising an eyebrow, you looked pointedly at where his scarred hands were still clutching his side. The fact that he’d been in worse pain before was not very reassuring to you right now. “Do you need the healer?”

“No,” he said, shooting you a soft smile that you were sure he saved only for you. “I just need you.”

You sighed, cursing yourself for the fact that he could still make you blush at a time like this. You crossed over to him and gently tugged on his armor, pulling it off of his chest. He sucked in a breath sharply and your eyes darted to his. “I’m fine.” he groaned. “Just rip it off.”

You absolutely would not be doing that. Taking your time, wincing at every hiss and grunt he made, you eventually got all of his armor off, until he was sitting naked before you, and you were able to survey his injuries.

His side was clearly the worst of it, an open, bleeding wound near his ribs. But it was already starting to heal up a bit. You got out a washcloth and held it under the warm water before lightly dabbing his side, cleaning it as gently and quickly as you could.

Your mate’s eyes watched your every movement. “Are you okay?” he asked, quietly.

“Me?”

Azriel smiled faintly. “I know how you get when I’m out longer than expected.”

You finished cleaning the wound on his side, and took one of his hands in your own, setting his forearm on your lap, starting to clean a cut there. “How would you know how I get?”

“You think Cassian and Rhys don’t tell me? And even if they didn’t, I know you well enough, my love.”

“You cannot honestly be worrying about me right now,” was all you could say, looking at him pointedly, gesturing with the bloody rag in your hand. You wouldn’t tell him that you were okay, not when it was a lie.

“Of course I am,” he said quietly. You were focused on his wounds, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, stop,” you said, you tried to make it sound light and teasing, but it didn’t come out quite right.

He laughed, the sound deep and booming. “Stop? Worrying about my mate? Absolutely not.”

You sighed, surveying him. Many of the smaller cuts and bruises he had arrived with were already healed, and the bigger ones you had cleaned were starting to, now that they were cleaned, but it still wasn’t as fast as usual. Some of these cuts were deep.

The look on your face must have spelled out all your fears to your mate. He gently took your chin in his hand, tilting your face upward, his eyes so full of love and reassurance as he gazed at you. “I’m okay. I promise.”

Words wouldn’t come, stuck in your throat. He gingerly guided your face to his, his hand still on your chin, tilting your mouth up to meet his. Azriel kissed you slowly and deeply, as if trying to prove to you that he was in fact, feeling okay.

He moaned into your mouth, hands roaming down your body. You broke the kiss, narrowing your eyes at him.

“What?” he smirked. “I told you, I’m fine.”

You cocked your head to the side, gesturing to the bathtub, which was now full with warm water. “Get in.”

A choked, incredulous laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. You came home bleeding and limping. You need to rest before you do any of that.”

He groaned in frustration, but obeyed, gingerly lowering himself into the tub, his wings stretching out behind him.

When he was settled, he cocked his head to the side. “Does this please you, my love?” His voice was velvet, his eyes sparkling, a side of him you couldn’t have imagined before you knew you were his mate.

Silently, you retrieved another washcloth, lathering it with soap and water, before rounding behind him, cleaning his back in slow, gentle circles.

He tilted his head back slightly, clearly enjoying himself. You smirked, even though he couldn’t see it.

Once you were done washing his back, you tossed the washcloth into the water in front of him with a splash. “Keep cleaning,” you ordered.

“What, you’re not going to help me?” Az teased, reaching for the cloth and running it up and down his arms.

He moaned suddenly as your hands went to his back, massaging his tight, sore muscles. You kept going and going until all the knots were gone, eliciting filthy sounds from Azriel’s mouth.

Azriel sighed contentedly when you were finally done, and you wrapped your arms around his chest from behind him, resting your head on his shoulder. “I was really scared,” you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

He held onto your arms, leaning his cheek into yours. “I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

You buried your face into his neck. “You don't have to be. I’m just -- I’m really glad you’re okay,” you mumbled against his skin.

He tapped your arm, and you stood up so he could get out of the tub. You handed him a towel, and he wrapped it around his waist, eyeing you carefully.

“Come here,” he murmured, taking your hand and leading you into the bedroom. He dropped the towel before sliding into the bed, pulling you along with him. You settled into his embrace, your head resting on his chest as he traced small circles on your shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll always fight my hardest for you. To come back home to you.”

You made a strangled sound, pressing your face into his chest.

Holding you tighter, he said, “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Sorry I got bossy,” you mumbled into his skin.

He laughed, kissing the top of your head. “You know I love it when you get a little bossy.”

You lifted your head up finally to smile up at him.

Smiling sweetly, he took your chin in his hand again, bringing your mouth to his in a kiss that started out gentle and loving, but quickly turned heated.

Gripping your back, he smoothly flipped you over in one movement, so he was hovering over you, his naked body pressing into yours.

You couldn’t help the way your body reacted to him, heat flooding through you. “Are you sure you’re up for--”

“I’m sure,” he growled into your skin, kissing sensually down your neck.

He grinned at you, sliding his hands beneath your clothes, ready to pull them over your head. “You’ve made me feel so much better.”

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel one shot #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel fluff

[twirlyleafs]

“Gold-digger.”

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: Angst, arguing I guess

A/N: I’m in such a drought I need requests </3

~~~~

It had been a good weekend. A great one even. The weather had been nice, no rain but not too warm, and not one single DNF which had just about everyone feeling happy. Just a few hours ago you cheered for your boyfriend as he took the steps up to the top of the podium, giggling slightly as he sent you a wink from his high position. You never got tired of seeing Max win, you loved it. Loved how hardworking he was and loved that it gave result. Loved to see him happy. You also most definitely didn’t mind the adrenaline he still had coursing through his body when the two of you got back to the hotel, having him press you up against the shower wall with quick and hard thrusts. Looking at the two of you right now, smartly dressed and sitting on opposite sides of the big table surrounded by your friends, no one could imagine the whimpering mess you’d been just a while ago. You smiled as you watched Max across the table, one hand holding his beer as the other was cupped around Daniel’s ear. By the giant grin on Danny’s face you knew Max was whispering gossip to him and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. All around the table people seemed happy, relaxed, and since it was three weeks until the next GP you all found it necessary to both celebrate a good race weekend and the well-deserved upcoming break.

“You think she’d be with me if I wasn’t rich?” You snapped out of your own thoughts, eyes trailing back to your boyfriend. He seemed to be in the middle of some sort of jokey rant, the glimmer in his eye tipping you off to the fact that he was slightly tipsy. Max nodded to you with a grin as the table laughed. “No way man.” You rolled your eyes but chuckled along. Tipsy Max always pulled stupid jokes but because he was so disgustingly adorable everyone was fine with it.

“Shut up Max.” You pointed your fork at him and he grinned, winking back. For a moment the table seemed to move on to other topics but somehow it ended with Max once again saying something about your relationship. He claimed that he didn’t only have his career to thank Redbull for, they had helped him land you too. This time you couldn’t shrug off the feeling that his words were deeper than just a silly comment and you felt the need for him to finally say he was joking. When he dropped a third comment you pushed your brows together, having had enough, and called him out.

“Max.” Your voice had him shifting his gaze to you, the smile still evident on his face. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the sudden frown on your face. “Are you serious?”

“What?”

“You don’t think we’d be together if you weren’t with Redbull?” You were in disbelief, not really comprehending what he was actually talking about. Joking about. Max only shrugged, sporting a carefree smile.

“Maybe if I drove for Ferrari too.” He joked, still keeping the conversation light.

“Not McLaren? That wouldn’t be good enough?” Lando spoke up from the other end of the table and when Max answered with an exaggerated frown and shake of his head everyone once again started laughing. You didn’t. You watched your boyfriend, the big smile on his face as he joked about your relationship making you feel sick. Was he even joking? Or did he actually sincerely believe that the two of you wouldn’t be a couple, that you wouldn’t date him, if he wasn’t rich? It took Max a few moments before his gaze landed on you again, the grin simmering down when he saw the look on your face.

“Are you serious?” You asked again, even though you were starting to realize you wouldn’t like the answer. Max just chuckled and you felt your heart crack at the prospect of him actually thinking you were with him for the money. With a hard swallow you leaned back in your chair, focusing your gaze down into your wineglass as the table moved on.

The rest of the night you did your best to keep up, forcing smiles and laughs even though you wanted nothing else than to sink through the floor. Max didn’t seem to notice. You took note of who payed for dinner, Charles, and made sure you transferred him your share the second you and Max got back to the hotelroom. You had never done that before, no one had, because one of the guys usually offered to take the tab and Max had told you they basically took turns paying. It had never crossed your mind before, but after tonight’s conversations it felt important to pay for yourself.

“Liefje?” Max called from the bedroom as you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, removing your makeup. He popped his head through the door a second later, a slight frown on his face. “Chuck is asking why you’re sending him money?”

“Because he paid for dinner.” You answered simply, swiping a cotton pad across your cheeks. Max huffed.

“So?”

“So I’m paying for what I ate. And drank.” You paused to look at him through the mirror. When he still sported a questioning pout you sighed. “Don’t want him to think we’re just friends because he’s rich.” It took Max a moment to process your words, connecting them to earlier that night. When he did he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“You’re mad about that whole thing?” He asked and it honestly chocked you that he could be so surprised about it. When you broke the eye contact, moving back to start moisturizing your face, he let out another breathy laugh. “Seriously y/n?”

“You’re an asshole Max.” You muttered. Max shuffled closer to you. Even though you were annoyed, mad even, you didn’t stop his hands from smoothing over your hips. You watched his smile through the mirror but didn’t reciprocate it.

“Don’t be mad about that.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. In moments like this you hated that he knew exactly how to make you break. You felt your anger slowly subside when he kneaded his fingers into the skin above your hips, lips still pressing warm kisses against your bare skin. You had almost forgotten how upset you were until he spoke up again. Max had placed his lips just against your ear, something that would usually make you shiver in a good way. Now it had your skin burning hot in anger instead. “I don’t mind paying for you, I like that you like it.”

In a millisecond you had pushed him away, quickly turning to look at him instead. “Are you fucking serious?”

“What?

“I don’t like that you spend your money on me. That’s not why I’m with you, I- how can you even say that? I would love you even if you worked at a fucking gas station.” You were frustrated now, even more so when you saw Max roll his eyes. He obviously still thought you were being dramatic, that this whole thing was kind of amusing.

“Oh let’s be real, we wouldn’t be together if I wasn’t driving in f1 and you weren’t a model. Drivers date models and we do that because we have money, it’s not more complicated than that.” He said it so casually, leaning his hip against the sink. You stared at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. It had been bad enough to know that he thought you used him, but now he’s admitting to only dating you for your looks and your work and suddenly everything felt ten times worse.

“You’re only with me because I’m a model, is that what you’re saying?” You asked slowly, impressed with yourself for keeping your voice steady and the tears at bay. Max shook his head.

“That’s obviously not what I mean, but-“

“Because in that case you can find someone else to spend your precious money on. I’m sure you can pay some hotter girl to be your girlfriend if that’s what you think a relationship is supposed to be like.” Your words were sharp and you saw his face drop just before you turned around, walking out of the bathroom. You immediately went to your suitcase, throwing it up on the bed. Max was quick to follow, stopping you from opening it with a strong hand on top.

“That’s not what I meant.” He repeated, finally seeming to understand the seriousness in his earlier words.

“But it’s what you said. It’s what you’ve been saying the whole night actually. You believe that we’re in some sort of business with each other where I get to use your money and you get to, what? Be like your friends? Date a model? That’s making you feel cool?” You shoved his hand away from your bag, dragging the zipper all around it to open. “I believe -believed- that we loved each other and wanted to be together because we enjoy it. I guess there was some miscommunication.”

“No, no you’re twisting my words.” Max argued, dragging his fingers through his hair in a stressed demeanor while he watched you start to pack your stuff into the bag. “I’m not saying-“

“I think you’ve said enough tonight, actually.” Shoving your suitcase shut again you paused to look up at your boyfriend. Or whatever he was now. He stared at you with wide eyes, not knowing what to do. The situation had escalated too quickly for him to follow and now all of a sudden he was panicking. “I’m gonna knock on Danny’s door, see if I can sleep there. I would advise you to figure out how you see us because if I’m simply someone you think you’re buying to be with you I’m out.”

“Schatje-“ he began, reaching a hand out to touch you. You moved away, pulling your bag down on the floor.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #verstappen x reader #verstappen fanfic #verstappen #f1 writing #f1 x you #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #redbull racing #redbull

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna be a good boy

for @subeddieweek day two with the prompts cockwarming and first times

rated e | 3,319 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

One month.

One month was all it took for Eddie to fall entirely down the Steve rabbit hole.

They talked on the phone every night for a week after the school incident, and most of it wasn’t even dirty.

And then Steve showed up at his door, much to the shock and awe of Eddie himself, and they started hanging out. Like friends.

It was weird, even Wayne thought so, but Eddie was gonna keep this going for as long as he could get away with.

One day– a Friday, Eddie would never forget –Steve showed up at nearly ten at night, much later than usual. He hadn’t mentioned that he’d be by at all, even mentioned that he and Robin might hang out after their shift.

But there he was standing at Eddie’s door.

“Not that you’re not welcome, but uh, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked, standing at the door with his sweatpants on, torn up tank top hanging off of him in maybe the most unattractive way possible.

“Sorry, I can go. I just um, I had kind of a bad day? Just needed to-”

“Oh, you wanted weed? I just restocked, actually, even managed to grab a few edibles this time. Those are pretty rare for our neck of the woods, but I’ll slip you one for free if you promise not to tell anyone I pick favorites,” Eddie winked, backing up to let Steve in.

“No, uh, not weed. Is your uncle home? I didn’t see his truck,” Steve still stood at the door awkwardly, hands in his pockets.

“Nope, working a couple night shifts this week to cover for his buddy. They keep talkin’ about switching him to nights permanently, but hopefully he says no. He’s too old for that shit.”

Suddenly, his back met the wall behind him, shaking the mugs hanging up dangerously. The door slammed closed and Steve’s hands were on him again.

“Uh-”

“Remember how we talked about the things we were into? And you said you’d never gotten to try much?” Steve’s breath was hot against Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s dick was twitching in his pants as he nodded.

“Could we try something?”

“What-” Eddie swallowed. “What did you wanna try?”

“You remember when you said you wanted someone to use your mouth?”

Oh fuckin’ Christ.

He thought back to the conversation they’d had only a week before, high out of their minds, talking about their experiences and what they were into, what they thought they’d be into, what they weren’t into at all. It was enlightening, and Eddie had stripped his cock until he was numb after Steve went home.

He admitted to Steve that there was something special about knowing the person who is using you cares about you, that you’ve trusted this person enough to do whatever they want with you knowing that they would never go past your comfort zone on purpose. It wasn’t necessarily about getting off, or even getting the other person off, it was just about knowing he could make someone feel good, be useful, cherish someone in a physical way.

Steve didn’t have much to say to that, but did admit he’d always wondered if he’d be into cockwarming.

Eddie hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.

“I…do remember that, yes,” Eddie’s breath left him as Steve crowded him further against the wall, his arms resting on either side of Eddie’s head, boxing him in.

“You wanna try that with me?”

Yeah, obviously. Eddie dreamed about this, literally for years. Sucking on Steve’s dick until he couldn’t think of anything except the weight of it on his tongue? Sign him the fuck up.

But a small part of his brain still fought him on it, screaming that this was a bad idea, that nothing good could possibly come from being that vulnerable with someone he was pretty sure he was falling in love with.

“You can say no,” Steve backed away an inch or so, gave him room to breathe, to think, goddammit.

Eddie could say no. He could remember that this wasn’t a relationship, and probably never would be. They were friends, and Eddie’s unfortunate pining was not mutual.

Steve even said he’d had a bad day, probably just needed to let off some steam.

Eddie could help with that.

“No, we can do it. Stoplight system?” Eddie asked. God, he was gonna regret this.

“Yeah. One tap for green, two for yellow, three for red.”

Oh, yeah. He wouldn’t be able to talk with Steve’s dick in his mouth. Right.

“Where should we-” Eddie was nervous. His palms were sweaty, which was gross, and his heart was racing, which was probably close to a medical emergency.

“Where are you most comfortable, Eds?” Steve’s hands grasped his, sweat and all, and Eddie felt himself relax against the wall.

“My room.”

Steve’s lips brushed against his, reassuring in their silent strength. He led him down the short hallway to his bedroom, gently closing the door behind them.

Eddie let himself pretend that this was special, that this was only for them, that Steve never shared himself like this with anyone else. He’d feel the pain of the truth tomorrow, when the sun brought it along as it rose and Eddie woke up alone.

For now, he’d be here with Steve, making him feel good.

“On the bed or on your knees?” Steve asked, pushing his hair away from his face and holding his head steady so he couldn’t look away. Somehow, Steve already knew him well enough to know that facing these things head on was a difficult task. He wouldn’t let him run.

“Knees.”

If he was gonna have this, they should go all out.

Steve grabbed a pillow from Eddie’s bed, the one he always used when they were laying in it getting high together, and placed it on the floor. Eddie watched him unbutton his pants, no hint of shame or nerves.

Eddie felt like he was vibrating out of his skin, but Steve just seemed calm.

“I’m gonna sit here so we can find where it’s comfortable, okay?” Steve asked as he sat on the edge of Eddie’s bed, now naked from the waist down.

Eddie nodded, suddenly feeling shy. When had he ever been shy before?

“You’ve gotta use words, okay?”

“Sorry, yeah. That’s fine.”

“‘S fine.” Steve spread his legs so Eddie could kneel on the pillow between them. “Look at me.”

Fuck.

Eddie had sucked a dick before. On his knees even. But it was nothing like this, no one like Steve.

Steve was staring down at him with something similar to awe, and Eddie couldn’t handle it.

What right did Steve have to look at him like that, from his place above, ready to be worshiped by a person who never learned how to look up at a god for guidance? How could he look down at Eddie on his knees and see anything worthy?

He wouldn’t ask him, but he wondered.

He wondered how he’d crash back to earth after.

His cock was already hard, but there was no sense of urgency in the way Steve’s fingers scratched at his scalp. He wasn’t tugging him closer, wasn’t telling him to do anything.

He just watched and waited.

Eddie scooted in closer, not tearing his eyes from Steve’s, not wanting to lose this feeling yet.

He leaned in, bent over just enough at the waist to brush his lips against the tip of his cock, eyes still locked with Steve.

“You can taste, baby.”

Fuck, again.

The whimper that escaped him was muffled by his lips closing around the tip, tongue pressing against the precum trying to drip down his length.

He’d heard that Steve was confident, saw it firsthand in the school halls. He had no fucking clue that Steve could do this.

His hand in Eddie’s hair tightened, but he still didn’t tug or push him further down on his cock. His eyes closed for a moment as he moaned.

Eddie wanted to drink that sound, find a way to swallow it with his cum, make it a part of him a ls a reminder that he made Steve sound like that. Steve’s eyes blinked open, pupils blown and cheeks flushed a soft pink.

“Your mouth is perfect. So lucky you’re letting me have this,” Steve muttered, sounding damn near delusional.

Eddie knew he was pretty good at this, but he’d barely even gotten Steve in his mouth. He knew Steve had a bit of a dry spell recently, but this was being a little dramatic.

But he let the praise wash over him anyways, settling into the warmth spreading through his chest and stomach at the words.

“Take what you can but don’t suck. Just get used to it.” Steve was breathless as Eddie sunk further down.

He was big, but Eddie was already feeling a little cloudy, and he’d practiced on a lot of bananas back in the day, so he didn’t stop until his nose was nestled against his pubes.

Steve’s chest was rising and falling rapidly, his hand flexing against the bedsheet to keep from flexing in his hair.

Eddie swallowed. Steve groaned.

“Fuck, you’re so warm. Feel so good,” Steve looked down at him and smiled encouragingly. “You good? Need to move?”

Eddie tapped once on Steve’s thigh.

“Good. You’re doing so good. Just relax. I got you, baby,” Steve was barely speaking louder than a whisper, but the words sent vibrations through Eddie’s entire body.

He finally let his eyes close and let the thoughts fly away.

The only thing he could hear was the occasional intake of breath when Eddie swallowed around Steve’s cock. He didn’t do it as often as he probably should, but it was hard to remember to do it until the spit was dripping from his mouth and making a mess.

Steve kept a hand in his hair the entire time, sometimes just a calm reminder that he was there paying attention and sometimes to dig his nails in and remind him where he was. Despite how he felt, he was still on the floor of his bedroom, making sure Steve’s cock stayed hard and warm in his mouth.

He sometimes found the energy to swirl his tongue around the sides, cataloging the whines that left Steve’s lips when he did.

The world didn’t exist beyond the feeling of Steve’s cock on his tongue and the sounds Steve let out. Eddie slowly let his head fall to the side, resting on Steve’s thigh, only managing to keep half of Steve’s length inside when he did.

But Steve just pet his hair, traced his cheeks and lips, whispered that he was doing good.

Eddie drifted far, but Steve knew exactly when to pull him back.

“Hey, Eds,” he said softly. “Let’s give your mouth a rest, okay?”

Steve’s hand gently pulled Eddie’s head away, a quiet popping noise making it obvious when Steve’s cock fell from his lips.

He whined and pushed forward, trying to get it back in his mouth. He didn’t wanna be done. He liked floating here with Steve.

“I know, baby. You did so good. But it’s time to take a break.” Steve’s thumb rubbed against his cheek, pausing at the corner of his mouth before pushing in. Eddie moaned, sucking it further in so he didn’t feel so empty. “If you’re good, I’ll fuck your face and come in your mouth.”

Well, Eddie could be good if that was the reward.

Steve pulled his thumb from his mouth and rested his hand against his cheek.

He watched as Eddie slowly came back to himself, to the world around them, to Steve.

“Hey, Eds,” soft, fond, too much for Eddie.

“Hey, Stevie,” too in love, too infatuated, too obsessed.

“Color?”

“Green.”

“Good.” Steve’s smile was distracting, and Eddie couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. An explosion could happen behind him and he’d still only have eyes for Steve. “Can I get my mouth on you?”

Wait.

What?

Steve wanted…he…what?

“It’s okay to say no, Eddie. It just looks like you could use it,” Steve glanced down at Eddie’s lap. Eddie lifted his head from Steve’s thigh to see what he meant and was actually surprised to see his own cock tenting his pants, a dark wet spot making it very obvious how much he’d been leaking. “I can take care of you. You earned it, Eds.”

See, the thing is, no one had ever sucked Eddie’s dick. Not a single person he’d fooled around with had returned the favor because they were “in a rush” or it “wasn’t the dom’s job.” Eddie wasn’t stupid; He knew those were just excuses for them to get off and run.

But Steve Harrington of all people offering to suck him off. What fucking universe was he living in?

“No, I-” Eddie was gonna just have to admit it. “No one’s ever done that for me. So it may be over quick.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “No one? But you said- you’ve done some of this stuff before.”

“Yeah, yeah. But like, only giving, never receiving? I mean one handjob in a bathroom stall once, but the guy didn’t even spit in his hand first. I like pain, but that was…not the best.” Eddie scrunched up his nose at the reminder of the sensitivity he felt for two days after that. Hopefully the guy learned some basic manners for the next poor guy he got his hand on. “I don’t wanna disappoint you.”

The floating sensation he’d had was mostly gone now, replaced with nerves and an overwhelming need to please Steve.

“You wouldn’t. The only thing that would disappoint me is if I didn’t make you feel good.” Steve turned Eddie’s face back up towards him. “I don’t care if it takes five seconds or five hours. I wanna make you come.”

Eddie should actually say no. This would be the final nail in the coffin, he could tell. If Steve got his mouth on him, no one else would ever live up to it, and since he could never keep Steve permanently, he should say no.

“Okay.”

Steve’s face lights up, his grin contagious as Eddie smiles back at him.

“Get on the bed,” Steve orders, though the smile stops him from sounding demanding. “Make yourself comfy.”

Of all the times Eddie had pictured Steve in his bed, it was not like this. He’d always pictured himself being thrown around, fucked until he was begging to stop from oversensitivity, riding Steve until his legs were shaking too much to keep going. He’d pictured waking up to Steve entering his still stretched hole, after hours of being fucked the night before.

He’d never pictured having Steve’s mouth on him, hadn’t dared to.

Eddie did what Steve asked, keeping himself near the center of the bed so Steve had plenty of room.

Steve leaned over him, covering his entire body, his chest hair brushing against Eddie’s and making goosebumps appear across his skin. It was already too much, even without pressure on his cock.

Lips against his neck, teeth biting into his skin with just enough pressure to leave marks. Hands sliding down his sides and pulling his sweats off his hips. A groan as Steve took in Eddie’s length as it twitched against his stomach.

“You’re perfect.”

The words sunk deep into Eddie’s brain, making a home there for him to find comfort during the times when he forgot that he was good.

Steve’s lips trailed down his chest. He didn’t move slowly, probably could guess that Eddie was too close for teasing or taking his time with him.

“You can come whenever you want, okay? Don’t wait for permission. This is your permission.”

God, this was gonna be so embarrassing. Hopefully, Steve meant what he said.

And if he didn’t, hopefully he at least had the decency to not make fun of him.

Steve nipped at his hip, pressing small kisses across his stomach before licking at his tip.

Eddie’s thighs tensed and his hands gripped the sheets under him.

Just breathe.

Steve’s hands pushed his legs further apart, as far as they would go with his sweats still half on.

Eddie knew he was good at giving head. There were few things he was confident about, but that was one of them. That, and his guitar playing.

But Steve was incredible.

He was born for this.

He knew exactly how to swirl his tongue, exactly how much to suck before taking more.

When he moaned with Eddie halfway down his throat, it was over.

It was a damn shame, too. Eddie wanted to experience hours of this.

But it felt too good and Steve did tell him to come as soon as he needed to.

Steve didn’t even choke when he came down his throat, just moaned again and swallowed it.

Eddie did his best not to buck his hips up, but he was only human, and Steve was still sucking well past the point of his orgasm being over. He was sensitive, okay?

Finally, when Eddie managed to get a hand in Steve’s hair and tug gently, he let Eddie’s softening cock fall from his mouth as he looked up grinning.

“Was that okay?” he had the audacity to ask, as if he hadn’t just sucked the soul out of Eddie’s cock.

“No, it sucked,” Eddie deadpanned, surprisingly breathless still.

“Ha.” Steve moved back up his body, covering him. “But seriously. Was it good?”

“Stevie, I have absolutely nothing to compare it to except fantasies and you outdid those. So yeah. I’d say it was good,” Eddie closed his eyes, smiling to himself as he felt Steve’s weight press on him from above.

Lips brushed against his forehead and then Steve’s weight was gone.

“No, come back,” Eddie opened his eyes and reached his hands out, searching for Steve’s skin.

“I’m just grabbing you a drink, Eds.”

A drink? Eddie didn’t need a drink.

Well, maybe he did. His throat was a little scratchy, and he felt a bit lightheaded.

Steve was back before he could do a full evaluation on his body’s needs, glass of water in hand.

He couldn’t help the ogling, and he wouldn’t deny that’s what he was doing if asked.

Steve was still hard, cock straining against his underwear. Eddie should do something about that.

“Will you fuck my face?” He asked before he even took a sip of the water Steve handed him.

“Maybe if you drink all of that water,” Steve slid into bed next to him, turning on his side as he watched Eddie take a few sips. “Don’t want you to drop.”

“I won’t. I’m good,” Eddie was not too good for begging, especially not when he still felt tingles up and down his spine as Steve kept his eyes on him.

“I know you’re good, but doing too much at once can hurt you so we’re gonna take a minute.”

He knew Steve was right, but he felt better than ever. He was ready.

He still didn’t argue, knew better than to risk Steve saying no altogether.

Steve held the water as Eddie settled further into the sheets, moving the pillow so his head was resting against it, but still sitting up enough to avoid falling asleep.

Or so he thought.

The moment his head hit the pillow, his eyes felt heavy.

Steve’s voice was distant as he asked if he was okay.

“Jus’ restin’ my eyes,” Eddie mumbled.

“Sounds good, baby.”

If Eddie were more awake, he probably would have heard the smirk in Steve’s tone, maybe would’ve realized that Steve was aware he was losing a battle he didn’t even know he was fighting.

He slipped into unconsciousness with Steve’s fingers in his hair and his warmth in his bed.

Day three: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #subeddieweek #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington

[slushycoookie]

My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt.3

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3

Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Mentions of infertility, slight angst, Miguel shows off his geneticist side, Rough sex, Minors DNI!!

Summary: After months of Miguel having the symbiote, it's not working like you thought it would.

A/N: It took me eons to write this part but I'm back! We only have a few more parts of this story before I move on to something else. Enjoy!

You never thought you’d be sitting at the table with an alien. Although, a few years ago, you didn’t think you’d be married to a superhero. Now look at you. Eyeing the symbiote’s head across the table, drinking hot chocolate. You didn’t want to leave them out as they had cups of coffee. And you heard they like chocolate.

“Does it even have a name?”

Miguel and his symbiote looked at each other, “We aren’t really on a first-name basis.”

“You mean, you let this thing fuse with you and you don’t know its name?” You held back smacking your forehead. “I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I am.” Your husband reassured you, “Their name is Ravage. I didn’t name them that, they did.” You watch the alien smile, sharp teeth in clear view.

“Why Ravage?”

Ravage uses a tendril to imitate shrugging, “It sounds cool.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“How long were you planning on keeping them?”

“Until you get pregnant.” Miguel explained, “I wasn't planning on keeping them forever.”

You folded your arms, “And what were you going to do with them once I got pregnant?” You raised a brow at his delayed response. The symbiote wasn’t saying anything either, waiting for Miguel to answer.

“Find a new host was a general idea. But you don’t need to worry about that.” You wanted to ask more questions but he held your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, “Let’s keep trying.”

You squeezed his hand back, your lips forming into a smile. You absolutely wanted to keep trying but thought it was good to set some ground rules. As much as you enjoyed having sex with him every day, you still had lives. You agreed to indulge in the baby-making process around ovulation periods to give the highest possible chance of conception. If either of you were in a particular mood, it was okay too.

After having the conversation, sex with the symbiote was stress-free. You took the enlarged cock with ease, got filled with his seed, and relaxed right after. It was nice at first. But the results weren’t there.

No clear signs of pregnancy after a few months of Miguel obtaining Ravage. You thought you weren't having normal symptoms outside of the usual fatigue and aching joints. So you bought a pregnancy test. Only to be disappointed as the single line appeared in your vision. Pregnancy tests weren’t always accurate so you asked Lyla to conduct a scan on you.

Only for you to come up short.

Before Miguel’s newfound symbiote friend, you were trying to have a baby for eight months. You all did research. You knew it could take a while for conception to take place. Yet, it’s been almost a year, and no progress.

Hopelessness clouded over your mind. Thoughts began to settle in, accusing yourself of the reason why you couldn’t get pregnant. It was all your fault. Miguel said it would be difficult, not impossible. But that’s what it felt like. Impossible.

The thoughts wouldn’t go away. Not as Miguel’s lips peppered your neck, hands fondling your soft thighs. Ready to go for a round in their bedroom after a long day at work. In any other situation, you would’ve felt good. But all you could focus on was being a failure.

“I missed you today…” Miguel’s low tone resonated in your ears. A gentle squeeze on your breast as he continued to your shoulder, tugging on the collar of your shirt for more access to your skin. “Did you miss me?”

You hummed in response, raising your arms for him to remove your shirt. Your stomach twisted at his loving gaze on your naked top half. You knew he loved you. Yet, you were torturing him by not being able to provide what he wanted.

“You okay?”

You blinked, realizing you weren't reciprocating. “Yeah. I’m fine.” You kissed him, distracting yourself with the unnecessary thoughts. Not wanting to succumb to them as you were laid flat on your back. Hands moving from under his shirt to lift it over his head. You focused on his lips moving down your body. Open-mouth kisses covering your upper half.

“Can't wait until these are full of milk…” Miguel said, running his tongue over the swell of your breasts. “Getting ready for our baby…”

You shuddered as his tongue ran over your nipple, sucking on your breast while fondling the other.

All you thought of was you were trying for nothing. This will be another session that will lead you to not getting pregnant. Another disappointing endeavor. Because of you. All because of you.

“Nena?” He called, causing you to perk up. You were doing it again. Not reacting.

“Yeah?”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

You blinked, “Oh, I'm sorry. What did you say?”

Miguel hovered above you, eyes searching your face. “Nothing. Are you sure you're okay? Did something happen at work?”

“No, no I'm fine.” You cradled his face in his hands, giving him another kiss. “Really.”

He sighed, leaning back and pulling her towards him. You were held in his arms, sheltering you from the outside world. “You're not fine. You're thinking. And with your face, I know it's not good.”

Curse your husband for knowing you so well.

“It's nothing you need to worry about.” You buried your face in his hairy chest. Hearing him suck his teeth.

“I always worry about you when something’s wrong.” The hold on you tightened in reassurance. “Now tell me.”

You struggled, fighting back the tears. “This isn't working. None of this.”

“What? Baby, we did know this was going to take a while.”

“I know, but-” Your breath stuttered, cheeks getting wet, “I'm letting you down. I just can't seem to get pregnant.”

Miguel shook his head, pulling you away to assess the damage. He wiped away your tears, using his shirt to remove the incoming snot. “Don't say that. If anything, it's my fault. My sperm isn't doing a good job. With or without the symbiote.”

“You're not the one with an infertile diagnosis…” You harshly laughed, blinking more tears away.

He helped you put on your shirt. “I don't like when you're upset. You know that, right?” You nodded. “We have to keep trying. And if it doesn't work, then we have other options. Like adoption.”

You watched your husband lay beside you, a strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. Your head on his chest, his lips kissing your hair. He was right, there were other options. But you couldn't be comfortable with not trying anything you could. Before giving up.

“You could use me.”

Ravage's head hovered above your body in bed. Your eyes darted to Miguel’s sleeping form, unsure if you should wake him. Wait, what did they say? “I could…use you?”

“Yes.” Their smile may appear sadistic if it was anyone else. You kind of saw them as being genuine, “We can fix you. Cure you.”

“Can you? I didn't know symbiotes could do that.”

“Your husband failed to spare the details.” They went closer, you getting to see his intense eyes. “We make everything better. From physical to genetic…” Goosebumps formed on your skin as he emphasized the last word. There had to be a catch.

“If you knew this, why didn't you latch on to me and do it already? Like that time at the lab?”

Ravage huffed with frustration, “We need someone willing. You wanted us to that time. We could do it by force but then…” He trailed off, hoping you would get the idea. You knew if that happened Miguel would be on the alien in a heartbeat. If you were to consider it, he'd have to know. It is your symbiote now too. It wouldn't hurt to share.

“No, absolutely not.”

Miguel declined when you brought it up during dinner the next day. You had to sit with the idea yourself before bringing it up to him. Understand the pros and cons of letting a foreign entity connect with you. You weren't a spider-person either. No superpowers or anything to help you resist. You'd be going in completely vulnerable.

Of course, he wouldn't like it.

“Why?” You asked, “It could fix what I have going on with me.”

“It's only temporary.” Miguel warned, “Once you part with it, it's only a matter of time before what you have comes back. Maybe even worse than before.”

“Okay, but once I get pregnant, it won't matter anymore.”

His brows furrowed, “This is an alien we're talking about here. That's fusing with you. It's dangerous.”

“You didn't ask for my permission when you fused with it! Why should I ask for yours?”

“Because this is different. I'm Spider-Man, you're not.”

You rolled your eyes, “Now, we're having this conversation again?” Miguel huffed, face lowered as he went silent, focusing on his meal. You hated it when he stopped talking in the middle of an important conversation. You usually understood and were patient, but now you couldn't hold your tongue. “If I had powers, would you consider it?”

“No.” He said, his voice strained.

“Then what difference does it make?”

“Because you’re my partner.” Miguel stared at you, hard red eyes into your soul. The grip on his fork was strong enough for him to bend it, holding back his true feelings. “I don't want anything to happen to you. Symbiotes are unpredictable. Dangerous. I'd rather put myself through that and not you.”

“That’s not fair. We’re supposed to be a team.” His face softened as you gazed at him with soft eyes.

“We are.”

Miguel stood, not wanting the rest of his dinner. He mutters about finishing up some work at HQ, making a portal before disappearing behind it. Leaving you to clean up. You weren't diminishing his protests. The idea of dealing with symbiotes was scary, especially with someone who hasn’t used them before. You thought it wouldn’t hurt to try.

But now your husband was angry. He was going to avoid the topic now until you couldn’t take the silence anymore. At least that’s what you thought.

The next morning he came to you, eyes heavy from lack of sleep. A lab coat over his spider suit. To say the words you never thought he’d say.

Let’s do it.

His hair was messy, like his actions as he paced in his lab. You saw multiple images presented by Lyla to support his theory. None of it made sense. You weren't a scientist. But he mentioned how it can be possible as long as you set some ground rules. Control the environment so things won’t get out of hand. And you wouldn’t get hurt.

Your heart squeezed as he rambled, the geneticist side coming out in full force. “You stayed up all night thinking about this, didn’t you?”

“Of course.” Miguel quickly said, his cheeks flushed. “I love you.”

You cradled his face in your palms, thumbs rubbing his cheeks with affection. “I love you too.”

To be cautious, Miguel wanted to test how you reacted to the symbiote. He wanted to monitor you for 24 hours. He first suggested locking you up in the lab so he could be close by but you weren't having that. You decided that staying home and doing your usual tasks would be good enough. Miguel wasn’t a huge fan but he shut up after a few kisses.

You weren't sure how you'd react to the symbiote. If you would feel a drastic difference compared to your normal self. So when Ravage attached to your body, there wasn’t a dramatic shift. No change. Only that they were there. A niggling on the back of your head. It wasn’t annoying, but it would take a while to get used to.

You did everything as normal. Freshened up and grabbed a cup of coffee. Until your mug snapped.

You shrieked at the sudden action, your coffee on the floor, hot droplets on your hand. Miguel was watching you because he called through your watch right away.

“Are you okay?”

You started wiping up your mess, “I’m fine. It just happened so quickly.” Your brows furrowed while sweeping the broken contents. You’d never snapped a mug like that before. Was it because of Ravage?

“It’s the symbiote.” Miguel confirmed, “By enhancing you, it also applies to your physical traits.” Oh right, Ravage did mention that.

You stared at your hands. “Does that mean I have powers?”

“Kind of…Like I said, it’s only temporary.” Right. You shouldn’t get excited. All of this was temporary. “I’d watch your grip.”

You resorted to handling things with your fingers, willing yourself to touch them with the lightest of touch. You understood how Miguel felt about his abilities. If you moved your arm wrong, you’d probably break something. Or someone.

“I’m hungry.” Ravage’s voice resonated in your head.

That was another thing you had to get used to. Every time they spoke, their words would rumble through your body. Prickling your skin in an uncomfortable way that was also satisfying. And no one else could hear them besides you.

“You’re always hungry.” You commented while pulling out a bar of dark chocolate. You broke up the bar into smaller pieces, feeding it to them. “How many times did Miguel have to feed you?”

“Many times.” They said, chomping on another piece. “We don’t just need chocolate to feed.”

You purse your lips, “I’m not feeding you brains.” You gave them a look as they scowled, angrily eating his last piece of chocolate.

“We’re not talking about that. Sex should suffice.”

You perked up, “What?”

“You heard us. Intercourse staves us for a while.”

“Sex is nourishing for you?”

“We didn’t say that. We just like it.”

That explains why Miguel kept wanting to have sex with you. A lot.

“We can’t though. Knowing Mig, he’d want to wait until 24 hours are up.”

“Sex does involve said participants to be next to each other, right?” Their eyes raised in question, “It shouldn't be a problem.”

“No. Not until 24 hours are up.” That's what you said, but it wasn’t what you were thinking. You'd admit getting impatient. You wanted to see if this crazy plan would work. After months of trying and failing, you were tired of waiting. Why couldn't you make love to your husband now to see what happens?

Thoughts kept running rampant as you couldn't sleep. You wanted him to pull you in close, get on top, and have his way with you. You placed a hand on top of his own that rested on your stomach. Your ass, only covered by shorts, started to rub against his lower half. Miguel wasn’t asleep yet when his hand gripped your shirt, a groan slipping out.

“What are you doing?”

You kept going at that same agonizing pace. “Thinking…”

“About?” He made no moves to have you stop, only having a death grip on your shirt.

“How horny I am right now.”

Miguel’s breath quickened at the faster pace. On instinct, he pulled you closer, the large hand splayed across your belly. But he suddenly had a moment of clarity as he pulled back.

“No, it hasn't been 24 hours yet.”

You held back a smirk at how you could feel his cock getting hard against your bottom. “You can still watch me while you fuck me.”

You maneuvered to get back in your original position but he stopped you. “Sorry, I really don't want any surprises.” He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning over to try and sleep, which may take a while due to his current state.

That's fine, you could wait.

You made arousing your husband your mission. Showering with him, making sure his entire body was clean before work by running the washcloth over his body. Making out with him with the towels loosely hanging from your bodies. You felt Miguel’s muscles tense from every seductive touch. His eyes were hard on you as he knew what you were doing but didn't press further.

You stole another kiss before he went to work, tongue sliding across his own with fervor. When you parted, he took a long, deep breath.

“Me vas a matar (You’re gonna kill me)…” He muttered.

“I love you too.” You waved him goodbye when he disappeared.

Ravage’s pleased hum once again filled your body, “We are enjoying the teasing. But when do we play?”

“Be patient.”

30 minutes until the 24-hour surveillance was up. How convenient it was also around the time you ate lunch with him.

You arrived, displaying a casual demeanor when meeting up with Miguel at his lab. He was rightfully cautious as you walked side by side to the cafeteria. You had sent him a naughty text not too long ago. Everything was okay. Cool and casual. Right until you locked eyes with the broom closet.

With your newfound strength, you opened the door, grabbed your husband, and launched him inside.

The cleaning supplies shook from the force as you closed the door and locked it. Miguel didn’t have time to protest as your lips pressed against his in a rush. Filled with need and wanting. His hands gripped your sides, a groan escaping as he gently pushed you away.

“We have about 24 minutes and 15 seconds until-” You kissed him again and he reciprocated it. He pulled your body close to his, devouring each other in the embrace. But Miguel was such a stickler as he pulled away again. “We should wait-”

“Ravage hasn’t done anything these past 23 hours. If they wanted to, they would’ve.” You pushed him down to the floor, seeing the hunger rising in his eyes. Your stomach fluttered at his gaze, sitting down on his lap. “Now fuck me.”

Miguel didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed you again, a tight hold on your hips as he rolled his own against you. It didn’t take long for him to get hard, ready to release what you had started since last night. You were as desperate as him as hands tore through your clothes. You couldn’t be upset, as you sunk down on his length.

The entire act was filthy as Miguel gripped your plump cheeks while he thrusted up into you. A death grip on your flesh so you couldn’t escape. Rough enough to where the entire room started to shake. His head was deep between your breasts, whining about how good you felt. So good that you could feel the slight prick from his talons. They weren’t fully out, thank goodness, but enough to knead your soft flesh.

It didn’t take long for your climax to arrive. Your warm walls clenched against his length, inviting him to fill your insides. His warm seed coated you as his body stilled.

“Good. Very good.”

You heard Ravage as you gave Miguel another kiss. You weren't exhausted, your body sturdy enough to go for many more rounds. You were never like this before. Miguel had enough stamina to go all night if he could. But you were only capable of a few before passing out from exhaustion. Not this time.

Miguel picked you up and went home, completely neglecting his duties. Ravage started to take over, forming a second skin around your body. No one cared as you locked yourselves in the bedroom.

Miguel pressed you against the bed, bottom raised while he pounded into you. The entire room quaked under his rough thrusts as you were pinned against the wall. Bite marks covered your skin as you subdued him, locking hands and riding him until he saw heaven. Droplets of cum dripped out of you, only to be pushed back in by his large fingers.

You didn’t know how long you were going until you saw the clock. Being almost eight in the morning. Your head was hazy from the constant lovemaking. Heavy snores filled the room as you looked over, seeing Miguel sleeping on his stomach while tangled in the bedsheets. The sun peeked through the curtains and it was too much sunlight to your liking so you went up to close them. Your body felt heavy but also oddly satisfied. This must be the perk of having a symbiote.

“That was fun.” Ravage chittered, pleasure once again seeping through your body. “When can we play again?”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #slushycoookie writes

[sincerelyyycece]

i'm letting go.

Y/N finally had enough of being James’s backburner

note: modern au, this is a part 2 of my “hey, are u still there? …good.” fic, inspired by niki’s song again but this time it’s “oceans and engines.”

tags: @dearmy-diary @moonteaxw @xcinnamonmalfoyx @box-of-kinderjoy @hisparentsgallerryy @alittlebirdswhisper @chi-ara (i can't seem to tag the last two accounts.)

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

A symphony of heartbroken tears and quiet, mournful sniffles echoed throughout the room, rebounding off the cold, stark walls and filling the silence with their melancholy. "Here we go again," she mused to herself, a bitter chuckle escaping her lips as the painful reality of her situation hit her once more. Her gaze, heavy with unshed tears and the burden of heartbreak, fixed on the seemingly innocent photo of James and Lily, both ignorant of the emotional turmoil their image was causing.

As she studied their smiling faces, her heart, already fragile and wounded, sank even deeper into the abyss of disappointment. The realization that she had been cruelly sidelined for Lily once more was a blow she had not anticipated, a betrayal that echoed in the silent room. She could almost hear the sound of her heart shattering, each piece a testament to her unrequited love for James.

A nauseating wave of regret and self-reproach washed over her, threatening to drown her in its relentless current. As she pondered her own naivety, she wondered how she had allowed herself to fall into this trap.

What had she expected?

Did she truly believe that this time, against all odds, he would choose her?

How foolish she felt, how incredibly naïve she was for ever believing him!

Her eyes narrowed at James's enthusiastic grin, a stark reminder of the shared moments and whispered promises. She remembered how he had once smiled at her in the exact same way, his eyes twinkling with mischief and unspoken promises. How easily she had fallen for that smile, and how bitterly she regretted it now.

With a deep, shaky breath, she forced herself to look away from the picture, her hand moving to wipe away the stray tears that had begun to fall. She knew what she needed to do, as much as it hurt her. She had to let go. She had to let go of James, of her love for him, and of the hope she'd been foolishly clinging to.

She gazed at her phone, James's number illuminating the screen. Another shaky breath escaped her lips as she summoned the courage to press the call button. The room filled with the familiar sound of ringing as she anxiously awaited his response, her hands trembling with nerves. Thoughts raced through her mind as she contemplated the words she intended to speak to him.

Suddenly, a voice broke the silence, uttering a soft "Hello?" Her breath caught at the sound, her heart skipping a beat. Faint music played in the background as he called out her name, "Y/N." She swiftly composed herself, resisting the urge to melt at the sound of his voice. "Are you there, Angel?" he inquired, his tone gentle. Her throat felt parched as she struggled to form words, her mind urging her to speak, yet her voice failed her.

Frustration washed over her as she sensed the distant sounds of music and chatter, indicating his movement to another location. "Y/N, did you accidentally call me?" he teased, chuckling lightly. "Hey," she finally managed to utter. "Hey Angel, what's going on?" he responded, his voice tender. She blinks rapidly, searching for a way to conclude the conversation.

But then a familiar female voice interrupted from the other end, urging James to return inside for another round. Though faint, she recognized it immediately. James's affectionate response indicated his reluctance to end their conversation. Internally, she sighed, realizing it was time to let go. No more clinging to hope, no more waiting on the sidelines for him. It was time to move on.

She'd had enough; her heart was tired of playing second fiddle to Lily. She was tired of being the one he turned to when he was bored or lonely—the one who was there to fill his empty moments. "James," she started hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think we should stop seeing each other." There was silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, she thought he had hung up. "What?" he finally asked, sounding utterly shocked. "Why?”

"I'm tired, James," she admitted, her voice wavering as she spoke. "I'm tired of waiting for you, of being your second choice. I deserve better than this. I deserve to be someone's first choice, not their backup plan." There was a pause as she took a deep breath, gathering her courage before adding, "I'm letting go.”

"But, Y/N," James started desperately, but she cut him off. "No, James. It's over. Goodbye." With that, she ended the call, her heart aching as she did so. Up until that moment, she had hoped that things might change and that James might come to see her as more than just a friend, more than just a backup plan. But it was clear now that that was never going to happen. She had to let him go, for her own sake.

It was a painful decision, but she knew it was the right one. She deserved to be more than someone's second choice. She deserved to be loved and cherished as much as she loved and cherished others. And maybe one day she will find that person. But for now, it was time for her to focus on herself. It was time to heal and move forward. It was time to let go.

#james potter #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter fic

[paigebueckersmommy]

hotel - p.b

paige bueckers x uconn wbb player

requested by anon

warnings : fingering, p eating, teasing

you and paige had been going out for 4 months, after playing on the same team 4 years. you and paige had both decided to stay a 5th year, not knowing what it would lead to. you and paige share a dorm, so one night when you and paige had had too much to drink, things got steamy, and ever since then..

your former teammates nika and aalyiah were getting drafted at the WNBA draft, so you, paige and azzi went to support them. azzi was staying in a room with nika in the room a couple doors down from you ima gorgeous hotel. when paige told you that you two would be sharing a room, there was a grin across both of your faces.

azzi came into your room to get ready with you and paige, azzi was sitting on the couch in your room waiting for you to get done with P’s hair. “OHHHH MY GOD COULD YOU GUYS MOVE ANY SLOWER.” azzi groaned out of frustration. paige smirked then moved herself close to your ear to whisper, “little does she know how fast we go.” you giggled then playfully slap her arm. azzi could see in the bathroom door from the couch. with a grossed out look on her face, “i don’t wanna know.” she says as she pays her attention back to her phone.

you guys continued getting ready, and walked the orange carpet and got interviewed before the draft stated.

you guys sat down, you on the end of the row, paige in the middle and azzi on paige’s left. still waiting for the draft to start, and azzi conversing with someone else in our row, and paige lays her hand ok your inner thigh, dangerously close to your heat.

you gasp and make eye contact with her as she grins, “what you don’t like my hand there ma?” you giggle. azzi turns around from her conversation, making contact with paige’s hand on your thigh. “ew. can you two not wait till we get back? you act like you don’t have a king bed all to your self for the next two days” she says with a fake, over dramatic gag. paige quickly removes her hand, her hand flying to her head in a command way, “yes ma’am sorry ma’am.” azzi laughs and she puts her hand back on your thigh, azzi jot saying anything else about it.

you’d spend the night cheering, crying and hugging.

when you get back to your hotel, you plop yourself on your bed. paige goes to the bathroom and undresses herself all but the gold chain around her neck. she climbs over to the bed and hovers over you. “hey ma” she says. “hi P” you say with a giggle. “y’know all i could think about the entire night was your pussy. i’m soaked.” she whispers, even tho your alone. you don’t mind, it’s incredibly sexy.

you starts to rip all you clothes off, leaving you completely naked. paige hovers her mouth over you, licking a single stripe down your body. “mhm fuck paige please” you say, desperate. “please what sweetheart? where do you need me?” she says, acting clueless as if she doesn’t know your body inside out “p i need your mouth on my pussy”

she immediately follows your request, circling your clit with her tounge. you let out moans that satisfy paige. she enters her toung inside you, and your legs already start to shake. “fuck i’m close P,” you release on paige, her licking up and down your folds twice more before coming up and kissing you for the purpose of tasting yourself. “u taste so good baby” paige says in a raspy tone.

you were now on top of paige, kissing. you seperate your faces, shoving 2 fingers into paige’s mouth as she swirls them with her toung. when she’s done, she bites her lip, knowing what will happen. you rub her clit, earning gasps from paige. “fuck baby,” paige says breathing out moans. you shove your fingers into her sopping wet cunt. she moans out loudly, murmuring curse words.

after a minute or two, paige’s legs start to shake while she continues to moan your name and cursing. you saw her making the face she makes before she cums, the face you love. she relases under you when you bring your fingers to your mouth, savoring paige’s taste. after you lick her juices off, you bring them to paige’s mouth, still recovering from her orgasm. “taste yourself baby.” you say in a sub tone.

“holy fuck baby.” paige breathes out.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Sup, can i ask for a request headcanons for Idia with an S/O who's similar to Meg from Hercules? Basically free-spirited, independent, quick-witted, and snarky, who would do everything for her lovely boyfriend even going as far as to protect him from any bullies and such.

Idia Shroud:

You are mildly intimidating to him. While your personality is one he finds attractive, he still can’t help but pause when he thinks about talking to you or interacting in any way that might have your full attention on him. He has seen the carnage from your snark, the way you could make even the most confident man crumble if they proved themselves a fool, and he doesn’t want Ortho to have to scoop up his remains if he failed his charisma check.

Now after you’re together is a different story. He’s still in awe of your quick-witted abilities but even moreso when it’s used to protect him. He won’t claim he needed the protecting, or that most people even bothered him as he knew he was far smarter than they could ever dream of being, but it was satisfying to see them get humbled so quickly. It does stress him out when it draws even more attention to the conversation, especially if it escalates beyond a few snarky remarks tossed back and forth, and he’s quick to pull you away before things go too far.

Whenever he thinks about you he feels like he’s head over heels, even after dating for a day. It’s like working through all the side routes in an otome game to finally reach the main love interest, the true end, the place the story had been leading to all along. He had waited for you for a long time, and gone through many heart-wrenching moments, but it finally felt like his life was coming together exactly the way it should.

#Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Twisted Wonderland Imagines #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST Imagines #TWST x Reader

[erwinsvow]

rare punishing r for going on the date with jj anyways

"you need to learn how to fuckin' listen, when- when you're told something-"

"rafe," you breathe back, exasperated at the exhausted dialogue. you two have had this conversation so many times. you love your best friend, maybe more than a friend should, but you're tired of being lectured by someone who regularly makes worse decisions than you going on a date with a pogue boy.

"no, m'serious." rafe moves over, getting closer to you, closing in the space in your bedroom. you don't know how he even knew you were home, since you hadn't talked to him since the club yesterday, before your date with jj.

the date had been fine. jj was nice, funny. you two got along well enough. if your friends weren't breathing down your neck about how much they don't like him, you think maybe you'd be more excited, more engaged, replying to his text immediately to plan the next day instead of letting him sit on delivered while rafe sits on your bed next to you.

"are y'listening to me? huh?" you blink up at him, snapped out of your daze. no, you're positive now, if rafe was supportive (then topper and kelce would be too, of course) then you'd feel better about the whole thing.

the truth was that if rafe didn't approve of the boy you wanted to date, you didn't feel like dating him. you wanted someone who would fit right in with your best friends, make himself comfortable in your group and get along. the sad reality was that no one like that existed, and rafe hadn't approved of a single one of your dates since you had first met him.

"sorry. what?"

"i said, you always do this shit."

"rafe, i don't feel like getting reprimanded like some kid right now-"

"no, that's just it. you are a fuckin' kid. you never listen to me, you fuckin' act out by going on dates with pogues-" he spits the word like there's nothing worse in the world you could do, maybe besides ignoring what he tells you to do.

"why should i listen to you?" you snap back, suddenly sick of the double standard. you'd never so much as questioned him when he had a new girl on his arm every week.

"why should you listen to me?" rafe repeats slowly, back at you. "i dunno, maybe because i know best for you. maybe because m'trying to take fuckin' care of you, watch out for you."

you groan, but rafe interrupts you.

"are you seein' him again?" you stare up at him. "answer me."

"no," you admit finally, bringing your knees to your chest and hugging them. "m'not."

"good." you don't look up, but rafe licks his lips. he sits back down next to you, swinging an arm around you. "m'right here. what else do you need, kid? hm?"

you roll your eyes.

"a best friend that doesn't act like my dad would be nice."

"yeah, well, tough shit. do not see him again. this is nice compared to what'll happen."

"rafe!" you protest, met to deaf ears.

"you think m'joking? try me. if i see you texting that pogue again i'll snap your phone in half." you sigh, but he still presses a wet kiss to your temple. "now c'mon. it's tee time."

#baby im sorry if this isnt what you wanted #its more threatennnnn i feel like he cant up and spank her or sm lmfaoooo #he has to try n be more chill since theyre not a couple (yet.. even tho they kinda are) #anyways i hope u like babe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #kook trio reader

[buckys-metal-arm]

Comfort

Bucky x GN!Reader

Description: three instances of Bucky associating someone stroking his hair with comfort.

Warnings: fluff and angst, mentions of illness, period-accurate toxic masculinity, mentions of nightmares, no y/n used, only pronoun used is "you"

A/N: this is based on something I wrote for my self indulgent self-insert OC Juniper, where Bucky tells them the story of the first two memories and then decided I wanted to also do an x Reader with a similar idea.

-------------------------------------------------------

1930

One time, when Bucky was young, he was hit with an awful bout of illness. He felt like there was a hundred pound weight on his chest, and he couldn’t stop coughing. Steve kept trying to sneak in to go see his friend, but would be shooed away before he could actually see his friend. Rebecca, Bucky’s little sister, would slip notes from her and Steve under his door as often as she could, trying to remind him he wasn’t alone. One night, when his sickness got real bad, his mother came in to sit up with him. Since it was the Depression, she would be up pretty much every night working on sewing alterations until her fingers cramped and bled. But tonight, she was staying with her Baby Boy. She rubs Vick’s on his chest in hopes of soothing the cough, and sits by his bedside. When Bucky’s coughing gets so bad that he can’t fall asleep, she sits on the mattress next to him, running their fingers through his hair until he falls asleep. She saw how much it soothed him, and from then on whenever he was sick she would stay with him, running her fingers through her son’s hair to calm him. 

1942

Bucky was an adult now, dressed in a soldier’s uniform and trying to pretend he was proud of that. He’d just gotten home from the Stark Expo, and found that his mother and sister had stayed up to wait for him. Rebecca hugs her brother goodbye before heading to bed, but Bucky and Winnefred stay up late talking. During the conversation everything hits him at once. He’d spent the entire day forcing a smile and pretending to be brave, being strong in front of his date, of Steve, of anyone who saw him and saw a young man ready to take on the world and fight for his country. 

When in reality?

 He’s been terrified ever since he learned he was drafted. 

He broke down in front of his mother, telling her that he’s not ready, that he’s scared, and that he hates that he’s scared. That he’s a coward. But his mother shakes her head, and hugs her son tight. She doesn’t tell him to “man up” or that he needs to “get ahold of himself”, just held him and assured him that it’s okay, that he’s not a coward, that he’s not weak for being afraid. She took him back to his bedroom, getting him settled under the covers and sitting at his bedside, stroking his hair the same way she did when he was young. 

“Rest now, James,” she whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes, “you don’t have to be strong tonight…” 

Now

Bucky woke up screaming, drenched in sweat. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself down, but the nightmares that had forced him awake still ravaged his subconscious. 

“Bucky?” He whipped around to see you, eyes tired but still filled with concern, “are you alright, Baby?” 

“Yeah,” he gasped out, running a hand through his hair, “yeah, yeah, I'm…I-I’m…” 

“Oh,” you cooed, wrapping your arms around him and laying your head on his back, “oh Sweetheart…” 

You hugged him close, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Can you feel my breath?” You asked, running your fingers along his stomach. Bucky nodded, “good, Buck. Can you follow my breathing?” 

He matched your breaths as best he can, and you held him until he calmed down. Once his breathing evened out, you pressed another kiss to the crook of his neck and smiled softly. 

“What do you need to feel better, Sweet Boy?” You asked, “what do you need to go back to sleep?” 

Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, trying to decide. His mind drifted to his youth, to his mother carding her fingers through his hair and the feeling of serenity it brought him. 

“M-my hair,” he murmured. You looked confused, “will you stroke my hair for a bit?” 

He didn't give you a chance to respond. 

“Sorry,” Bucky's blue eyes wouldn't meet theirs, “that sounds stupid, but my Ma used to do it when I was younger but–” 

“Shhhh,” you slid in front of him, “it's not stupid. Of course I'll stroke your hair.” 

His blue eyes met yours, relief flooding his gaze. 

“Lay back down, Sweetheart,” he settled himself on top of you, laying his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. You cradled his head against your body, running your fingers through his dark hair. His eyes were already starting to feel heavy, and he nuzzled into your neck, a little hum escaping him.

“Get some rest, Bucky,” you pressed a kiss to the top of his head as he started to give in to sleep, “I love you.” 

The same feeling of serenity overtook him, and Bucky drifted off in his partner's arms.

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky fanfic #mcu bucky barnes

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 3: The Honeymoon✨

Who's ready for the honeymoon?? I've been dying to get this one out for y'all. Thank you all again for the incredible support on this fic, I absolutely love you all! Enjoy!!

I tried to make it as clear as possible who is speaking at any given time lol

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: The wedding is over and it's time for the honeymoon! And you have an interesting proposition for your new husband...

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, anal, multiple partners

As promised, Lucifer behaved himself for the rest of the reception. He was always very good at keeping his promises with you. Although, you had piqued his curiosity when you had mentioned the little "proposition" you had for him later in the evening. He was insatiable. And you loved it!

"C'mon love, at least give me a hint!" Lucifer begged while you were in between conversations with the hotel patrons. "Do you think it's fair to keep secrets from your husband?" He latched onto your waist and pressed a kiss to your cheek, a little laugh escaping your lips. "I'll just keep kissing you until you tell me!" Sure enough, he began to pepper small pecks across your face, finally forcing you to push him away gently.

"All good things to those who wait, Lucifer," you teased, taking his one hand and leading him towards the bar. "We just have to say goodbye to a few more people, okay? And you're one to talk! You still haven't told me where we're going for our honeymoon!"

He chuckled, bringing your hand up to his lips. "I'm the Devil, sweetheart; deception is in my job description, or so I've been told." You rolled your eyes playfully and made your way towards your new daughter-in-law.

"Charlie!" you greeted, bringing her into a warm embrace. "Thank you for this. You did an incredible job. This was everything I could have hoped for and more."

"Oh, there's no need to thank me!" Charlie beamed. "Everyone here worked super hard to make sure everything turned out perfect!"

"You're too modest, Charlie dear," Lucifer complimented. "Anything you touch turns out absolutely perfect. And I shouldn't expect anything less from my little girl!"

"Thanks, dad. I-I love you two so much!" Charlie's eyes started to well up with tears as she brought you both in for a hug. "Oh, dad! Did you tell her about the surprise?!"

Lucifer shook his head. "I haven't, but we're just about to head out right about...now!" With a snap of his fingers, a portal appeared behind the trio. You went to turn your head, but Lucifer used his hand to turn your face back towards him. "No peaking!" Without warning, you felt your legs give out beneath you as Lucifer scooped you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest and smiling down at you. “Thank you all for a wonderful day,” he called out to everyone. “It’s certainly one we’ll never forget. We’ll be back in a few days' time. PLEASE don’t burn the hotel down while we’re gone!” He turned around to face the portal and leaned down towards you. “Close your eyes for me,” he whispered against your ear. You did as he said and let your eyelids fall.

You felt the subtle jostling of Lucifer’s movement as he carried you through the portal. He only took a few more steps before he stopped completely. Wherever you were, you felt a slight breeze hit your skin. You guessed you must be outside somewhere. But Lucifer’s footsteps sounded like they were hitting tile flooring. Before you could try to rationalize further, you felt your husband’s lips graze your earlobe.

“You can open your eyes now,” he cooed.

Your eyes shot open; Lucifer’s grinning face was the first thing you saw as he finally set you back down on your feet. You were right about being outside. Kind of. You were on a balcony. The footsteps you heard earlier made sense now. But you saw something else that had completely caught your attention. The sky above you wasn't red. It was a deep blue. You turned to Lucifer in confusion. "Where are we?"

"Surprise!" he nearly shouted, gripping your hips and twirling you around before placing you back down. "Welcome to the Lust ring, my darling!"

You blinked at him a few times before looking back over the railing, smiling eagerly. "So, this is what you've been hiding from me?"

"It is," Lucifer said as he pulled you flush to his chest. "Do you remember how I said that you're no longer bound to the rules that govern sinners? This is part of that deal! You're free to travel anywhere as my Queen, and that includes the other six rings of Hell! Not that I would recommend most of them. But Asmodeus-"

"Wait, Asmodeus?" you questioned, "The Sin of Lust?"

"Yes! Although I usually just refer to him as Ozzie. He's one of the only Sins I get along with. But anyway, he's the one who put us up in this lovely room for the next few days. I told him I was getting married and well, he practically insisted on letting us use his Honeymoon Suite at the hotel he owns here. Told me I needed to 'put the room to good use'." Lucifer flashed a smug grin before leaning in to capture your lips. He picked you up once more and carried you over to the too- large heart-shaped bed, setting you down on the soft dark purple bed sheets. "So, my angel has a 'proposition' for me?"

Suddenly your cheeks felt burning hot. To be honest, you haven't given your own proposition much thought before this. But that week without any intimacy nearly drove you up the wall and your mind created scenarios that you had never even considered before. You regret mentioning it in the first place, but it was too late to turn back now. "W-Well, yes, I do...I mean, I did. I umm...it's..."

Lucifer laughed and sat himself down next to you, his hip connecting with yours. "Now what could possibly have you so tongue tied?" Lucifer teased as you looked away from him. "I've never seen you like this before. You don't have to be embarrassed, love! Whatever it is, I'm sure I can handle it! I don't think there's anything you can suggest that would scare me away." He brought his hand under your chin and turned your head towards his wanting expression. "Please tell me!"

You sighed shakily. "And you won't freak out?"

"Now when have I ever freaked out?" You cocked an eyebrow at him. "Ok, fair point. I promise you that I won't freak out."

You inhaled a few short breaths before speaking. "Youcanduplicateyourselfright?" you blurted out without thinking, making Lucifer pause.

"Duplicate myself?" he repeated, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uhh, yeah I can. But what does that have to do with...o-oh...OH! UMM...S-SHIT! WOW I uhh...wasn't expecting that..."

"Hey, you said you wouldn't freak out!"

Lucifer shook his head rapidly. "Freaking out?? Who's freaking out?! Not me! Certainly not me! I'm cool, I'm alright, I'm fine! It's just uhh...I..." He laughed nervously, failing to reign in his sudden panicked reaction. But for some reason, it seemed as though he couldn't stop smiling.

You reached down to cup his hands in yours. "Luci, listen, if that's not something you're wanting to try, that's totally alright! I'd never ask you to do something that would make you uncomfortable! That's why we talk about everything beforehand! Please don't worry about it." You smiled and cupped his face in your hands to press a light kiss on his lips.

"Now sweetheart, I never said "no", now did I?" you heard a familiar soothing voice echo behind you.

You turned your head slowly, only to see an identical Lucifer sitting next to you on the opposite side. You gulped and smiled warily. The other Lucifer grabbed your hand and kissed it delicately.

"You...you want this?" you turned to your Lucifer as the other continually kissed up your arm.

Lucifer beamed at you, taking your other hand. "More than you know! If I'm given the chance to provide you with as much pleasure as I possibly can, I will never turn down that opportunity! Besides, I do owe you from the reception, and I intend to pay it back tenfold."

You didn't think your face could get any more beet red. Your lips met with your Lucifer once more, his tongue gliding across your bottom lip, begging for entrance, to which you happily obliged. The other Lucifer found his way to your neck, now sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin. You had barely begun, and your adrenaline had skyrocketed. You had to pull yourself away before you wouldn't be able to stop yourself.

"I...I'd like to clean up first, if that's alright," you chuckled. Your Lucifer grinned, with both of them standing up and offering you their hands.

"Shall we?" they spoke in unison.

Your face flushed as you took each of their hands, pulling yourself up from the bed. They led you to the illustrious bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. It was way too grand for just a couple. Well, at least you three would take up just a little more space. You stripped out of your reception dress quickly, your lovers following suit. The shower itself could have easily fit everyone on in the hotel inside, but the three of you planned to use the space to your advantage. Once the shower was heated to your liking, you stepped in tentatively, letting the hot water relax your body. You didn't realize how stiff you had been. Perhaps the cause were the two men that just stepped in the shower to join you. One stepped around behind you, the other in front. Perfectly sandwiched between two God-like figured. Her heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you felt two hands gently massage your shoulders while two more thumbed circles around your hips.

"It's alright, darling," your Lucifer spoke calmy from behind. "We'll go at the pace you're most comfortable with, yeah? If you need to stop at any point, say the word and we'll be done." You nodded your head, giving them the 'okay' to continue.

"Let's get you all nice and clean now, love," the other Lucifer cooed. He passed the bottle of shampoo to your Lucifer while he lathered his hands with soap. You felt a pair of hands massaging your scalp ever so gently as they thoroughly scrubbed your soft hair, detangling any knots that may have formed. Two more hands roamed your skin, gliding across every inch of it. Starting at your neck, moving across to your shoulders, down to your breasts. Your breath hitched and you giggled, noticing how long his hands lingered in the specific area. His hands finally moved down lower, to your stomach and your hips, only to reach around and give a few light squeezes to your ass. You knew he was going to be touchy, especially considering it's been an entire week since he's been able to feel you like this. And you weren't going to deny him.

You rinsed your hair, watching the other Lucifer lower himself onto his knees to wash your legs, starting at your calves and working his way up to your thighs. After a few seconds, you noticed his hands have not left your thighs; he continued to run his hands along them delicately but desperately, almost begging for something more. You looked down at him only to be met with pleading eyes. It suddenly clicked with you. Wordlessly, you spread your legs apart slightly, allowing him access to the one area of you that you knew he wanted. That he needed. You let out a few shaky breaths before you at last felt his digits glide along your folds. You didn't know how much you missed the feeling of his fingers until he began his ministrations, easily finding your sensitive nub in the process. You mewled as your Lucifer turned your head to capture your sounds on his lips. You felt the other Lucifer's fingers enter you slowly, causing you to moan into your Lucifer's mouth. He swallowed it happily. You felt him languidly thrust his fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them.

"Now this is heaven," your Lucifer whispered against your collarbone. "I can finally tell you how wonderful you taste on my tongue." Without warning, the Lucifer beneath you gripped your thighs and plugged his face into your aching pussy, your knees nearly buckling under its own weight. Luckily, Lucifer caught you and held you close to his chest as the hot water continued to loosen every muscle in your body.

"I gotcha," your husband murmured before nipping at your neck, leaving bruises and bite marks in his wake. It was too much and not enough at the same time. Both of their tongues worked on your trembling body, your mind couldn't decide which area to focus on. You felt Lucifer's tongue push past your folds, his forked tongue hitting the most sensitive area inside of you. All that managed to leave your throat were whimpers of pure, overwhelming pleasure.

"L-Luci...I-I...," you tried to speak, becoming more and more difficult with each passing second. "B-Bed..."

You felt both Lucifers smile against you, each of them pulling away to stand up straight. The water was turned off and they led you out of the shower. They took some towels, drying you off as best they could before your Luci scooped you up and carried you back over to the bed, laying you down gently.

"What do you desire, my queen?"

You grabbed your Lucifer's hand, directing him to sit behind you. You looked at the other and patted the sheets in between your thighs. "I'm sorry that I interrupted your meal, please continue." Eagerly, the one Lucifer jumped onto the bed and dove between your thighs once more, continuing his tender licks up your dripping slit without giving you a second to brace yourself. You cried out while your Lucifer sat you in his lap.

"Such beautiful sounds, my darling," your Lucifer praised. "I've never been able to hear them so clearly when I've done this before. I've been dying to taste you again; it's been so long." You tried your best to focus on what he was saying, but the pleasure between your legs had taken up every bit of your attention. You missed this more than you were willing to admit; to have your lover devouring you like it was his last meal. You felt his hands snake underneath your arms, beginning to squeeze and knead your breasts. You were seeing stars, your vision blurred as you could feel legs begin to tremble uncontrollably. The other Lucifer had to wrap his arms under your thighs to make sure you couldn't pull away from his devilish tongue that was now circling your clit relentlessly. You were on the verge of breaking. "I can tell you're close, sweetheart. It's okay, let go for me. Let me taste all of you." You felt two fingers enter you at that moment, forcing you to thrust your hips up in unbridled ecstasy. Once his fingers curled inside you, the coil in your stomach snapped.

"A-AAHH...HHNG...LUCIFER!" you cried out as your orgasm overwhelmed you, your walls pulsating around his fingers that had refused to slow down as you came. You rode out your orgasm, feeling Lucifer lap up every last drop of you before you had finally come down from your high. Your breaths were heavy, but your Lucifer captured your lips once more, inhaling every last one. Oddly enough, you could taste a faint hint of yourself on his lips, even though he wasn't the one between your legs.

"Tell me love, how much did you miss my tongue?" the Lucifer below you asked coyly as his thumbs ran soft circles around your inner thighs.

You rolled your eyes and smiled. "Enough to know that I'll never ask you to wait for me again."

He beamed at you, picking himself up from between your legs and leaning for a tender kiss, the other leaving more hickies along your neck. This was everything you could have imagined and more. But you weren't done yet. You needed more. You had felt Lucifer's hardened cock against your back the entire time you were sitting in his lap. It was time to give him his fill of you. And you were more than willing to let him claim every part of you.

"Luci?"

"Yes?" they answered.

"I want you to take me. All of me. Please..."

"D-Do you mean..." your Lucifer swallowed hard, the other completely red in the face.

"I do," you nodded shyly. "Is...Is that alright?"

With a snap of Lucifer's fingers, a third one appeared and stood next to the three of you at the edge of the bed.

"Anything for you, my angel," the third spoke softly, a nervous smile crept across his face.

Oh, you were so fucked! In both senses of the word. Your hands shot up to your face in a failing attempt to hide your embarrassment. You felt a pair of hands pull them away, now staring back at two pairs of lust-filled eyes.

"Are you absolutely sure, love?" Lucifer's voice echoed behind you. You could almost hear the shakiness in it. "Please don't feel as though you need to do this for me."

You managed to shift yourself so that you were now kneeling in front of your Lucifer, his head resting in the palms of your hands. "Yes, I want this. This isn't for you or for me, this is for both of us. I'm yours, my king." You brought your lips to his, entangling your tongues together in a fiery kiss. When you pulled away, Lucifer seemed to be caught in a trance, completely drunk on you.

"Let's get you ready," he grinned. With a swirl of his hand, a bottle of lube had appeared, tossing it to the Lucifer standing beside you. You noticed the writing on the label before he threw it away.

"Apple flavored?" you questioned.

"Let me ask you, did you taste yourself on me when you kissed me a minute ago?" Lucifer smirked a bit when he asked. Your face flushed a bit, but you nodded. "I thought as much. It was faint, but it was there, right? I didn't think you wanted the taste of normal lube when you uhh...umm, yeah...haha...It's hard to explain, but the short and simple of it is that all of our senses are connected. If one of us is touched, the others will feel the sensation of being touched as well. And I promise that the faintest hint of apples will be the only thing you can taste. A little fun fact about duplication for ya!"

You grinned as you and your Lucifer got up from the bed while the second assumed his position, lying flat on his back, his leaking cock resting on his abdomen. You wanted nothing more than to ride him senseless right now as you made your way back on all fours and hovered yourself over him, but you knew you would get to soon enough. You smiled down at him beneath you, he grinned and winked in response. The other two joined you in bed, with one kneeling behind you, the other in front. Your Lucifer's cock hung just inches from your face, almost begging for any kind of attention. You went to grab it, but his hand stopped yours. "Ah, ah, patience," he scolded lovingly, "I can wait. Let me concentrate on you, yeah?" As if on cue, you felt a cold finger teasing the entrance of your ass. In inhaled sharply, gripping the sheets below you from the sensation. You and Lucifer didn't use it often, but you always enjoyed it whenever you tried it.

"Ready?" you heard him ask behind you.

"Yes."

Slowly, he inserted his lubed finger into you, letting your muscles relax around him. After a few pumps, a second finger was inserted, thrusting in and stretching you out as much as he possibly could. He applied a generous about of lube as he spread his fingers apart inside you, opening you up and making sure you would be able to handle more in just a little bit. The less pain you felt, the better. When he felt as though you were thoroughly prepped, his digits retreated from your ass. He rubbed some more lube down the length of his shaft before positioning himself to enter you. At the same time, you felt the Lucifer below you shift, lining his cock up with your wet cunt. You inhaled deeply a few times, albeit a bit shakily.

"If you need to stop at any time, please don't hesitate to use our safe word," your Lucifer instructed. "Do you remember what it is?"

"Radio." you responded. Neither of you had to use it before, but this seemed like a scenario where it may need to come into play. The word still made you chuckle to yourself regardless.

"That's my girl," he cooed. "Tap my leg and I'll pull out if you need to use it. Slow and steady now..."

You felt your ass stretch first as he entered you lethargically, letting you stretch around his length. You felt the burning sensation for a moment or two, but it soon receded after he remained fully inside for little bit. Your pussy was next, sinking down as far as you could before Lucifer's hips bucked up to meet yours. With two cocks now fully sheathed inside of you, you gave them the 'okay' to start moving. The room was filled with nothing but moans when their hips started rutting into you, feeling absolutely and completely full. You looked up at your Lucifer with desperate eyes.

"Y-Your turn, Luci," you babbled, opening your mouth wide, your tongue falling to the wayside and drool beginning to drip down your chin.

"F-Fuck..." was all he managed to choke out before to tip of his cock was already past your lips. He did his best to match the pace with his other selves, not wanting to go too deep. And he was right; the faintest scent of apples filled your senses as his cock was pushed in and out of your hot throat.

This moment was pure bliss.

Your mouth, your ass, and your cunt all being filled and fucked senseless, somehow in the most tender and loving way imaginable. Lucifer had never been rough with you and he wasn't about to start now. All three cocks were hitting every single pleasure point in your body, it was almost overwhelming. But you didn't dare stop.

You felt a pair of Lucifer's claws dig into your ass as he fucked you from behind, another pair shooting up to grip your hips as he thrusted up into your aching cunt. The last pair of hand you felt playing with your hair as you used your tongue and mouth to drive him mad. But you felt something else not long after. Something had wrapped around your leg. His tail. You weren't sure which it belonged to but you were too fucked out of your mind at this point to care. You felt something else, something that could have made you scream were your mouth not full. Another one of his tails, but this one had gone straight for your clit, its movements increasing with every thrust. Your eyes crossed as your second orgasm hit you like a freight train, giving you no time to prepare. You moaned loudly around Lucifer’s cock as your pussy clenched around his other, your juices leaking out and trailing down your thighs.

“GAA-AHHH, O-OH FFFFUCK,” all of them gasped together. All of them had felt you cum on his cock. He was done for.

“M-My love…”

“Ssshhhhiiittt…I-I’m…”

“I-I can’t…can’t s-stop…”

“FUCK, C-CUMMING…I’M CUMMMING!”

All their movement had stopped as they came at the same time. You felt his hot seed spill out inside of every hole he filled. It took everything you had left in you to not collapse right then and there. Your Lucifer was the first to pull out, finally letting you properly catch your breath. You swallowed his cum without a second thought, licking your lips as you stared up at him innocently. He turned away from you quickly, his face feeling like it had caught fire. You felt two pairs of hands grab your waist, hoisting you up and off of them, and gently laying you down on your back. With a final snap of his fingers, the two Lucifers smiled at you one last time before disappearing, leaving you with just one. Lucifer, now completely spent, plopped down on the bed right next to you. You shuffled closer to him, snuggling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and peppered kisses all along your face. You couldn’t help but giggle.

“Are you okay, my queen?” he asked breathlessly. “I didn’t hurt you at all, did I? Was it too much? Were you-MMPH” you cut him off with a searing kiss to his lips. He melted into you, your lips languidly moving against each other. You pulled away, tears welling up in your eyes. Lucifer’s face fell instantly. “Oh, God, I hurt you, didn’t I?! Fuck, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-”

“No, Lucifer!” you laughed, cutting his panic short. “I’m not hurt, you didn’t hurt me! I-I’m just…so happy…” you threw your arms around him and began to squeeze his body as hard as you could manage. “Thank you…”

His arms tightened around you as well, bringing you as close to him as physically possible. “No, my love, I should be thanking you. Not just for this. But for everything else.” He sat you both up, now leaning yourselves against the headboard. He left one arm draped over your shoulder as the other reached for your hand. “You’ve given me everything I could ever want, and more than I ever deserve. You’ve given me patience, understanding, kindness, stability, joy. I could go on forever about what you’ve done for me. But out of all of those, the one thing that you’ve given me that I know I could never go without, is your love. You’re mine, and I’m yours, until the end of time. I love you.”

You couldn’t stop your tears from falling. You smiled at him sweetly, wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “I love you too, Lucifer. But you’re wrong, you know.” The angel cocked an eyebrow at you. “You deserve everything and more. Never doubt that.” You pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “You’ll always have me. Always.”

Tears fell from his eyes now, pecking your face with more kisses again. Suddenly, he scooped you up in his arms and hopped off the bed in an instant.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we, my beautiful wife?” he whispered to you as you made your way to the bathroom once more. “Hope you like bubble baths!”

“Of course I do, my darling husband.” He smiled and leaned down to press another kiss to your parted lips.

~~~

GOD, PLEASE, I CAN EXPLAIN 😫🙏🏻

Anywho, hope you liked part 3! Part 4 will be a sort of epilogue so stay tuned! Thank you everyone for your support 💖

@ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar @lola576 @ag-cookiebat800 @victoriousvic @rand0m-1diot @lonelynmisunderstood @cosmic-lavender @yourmom132 @liveontelevision @luci-lover-forever

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #my writing #CAN YOU BELIEVE I WROTE A FOURSOME #FUCKING WHO AM I?? #LORD HELP ME

[starzioo]

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐄. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓.

This is a Theo fic where you are a VS SUPERMODEL. During one of your shows you see a very handsome man. I think we can guess who said man is.

5.1k words.

WARNINGS: NONE

It was 2006 and you were in the heat of the Victoria's Secret angel show era. You were a high grade model. you had been modeling with Victoria's Secret for 3 years now and you had already made a big impact on the fashion industry. While doing business with VS you had also done shows with GUESS and Tommy Hilfiger. You also did catalogue with JUICY and many other hot brands. This was the start of your career and you made it big. Your face was all over the world along with Adriana Lima, Heidi Klum, Gisele, and even Tyra Banks. You were the it girl.

You sit legs crossed in your silk baby pink VS robe. Sitting in the stylists chair you had 3 different stylists were getting you ready. Two were curling your hair into the iconic VS blowout, while the other worked on your eyeshadow making sure the gold shimmer was nothing short of perfect. Backstage was always hectic, dozens of stylists and crew running around making sure the girls were on track and most importantly on time. It was hard to not get nervous during these times but you always knew how to keep your cool. While you weren't opening the show you were going to be the 3rd girl that walked out. 3rd? And not only that Justin Timberlake was going to be preforming for the show. I mean come on Justin Timberlake? Everything had to be perfect.

You had been shown the lingerie you were going to be wearing tonight, you had 4 pieces total. And every single one was tailored perfect to your body. Although you had worn the pieces during the rehearsals, tonight was the night. You could hear the crowd of people bustling outside, even over the noise of all the girls laughing and conversing while getting ready. You take a deep breath. "Is Y/n set to go? She has 10 minutes." A crew member asked the stylist working on your hair. "Uhh, she needs to go to outfits still. We'll get her there asap!" She says hairspraying your hair into oblivion. "Okay -she scans the clip board in her hands- make sure she gets there Gisele and Heidi are already changed and on there marks." She sighs and rushes away to the other girls. This is the moment when you can feel your heartbeat all throughout your body. This happens every show it's the adrenaline rush. The knowing that there's hundreds of people out in the crowd. The knowing that this show is broadcasted to millions of people global. "Okayyy, open your eyes! What'd ya thinkkk?" The makeup artist says finally pulling the soft brush away from your eyelid. You open your eyes. There was a soft brown shadow on the outer part of the crease that blended into a light gold shimmer that added as highlight to your inner corner. She did a natural eyeliner with small falsies. It made your eyes pop. The base of your makeup was natural but yet gave a glow to your face. Your hair was perfect aswell the curls accentuated and framed your face in every right way. Everything was absolutely beautiful. "Ahhh! Thank you! It's perfect as always, I need to rush to costumes now!" You say giving your makeup artist and hairstylist a quick hug. "Thank you byee!" You said quickly as you ran off to go find your outfit coordinator.

"I'm here!!" You say frantically as you run behind the curtains to the dressing rooms. "Finally, I swear we were about to send S.W.A.T for you! -She takes your hand and takes you to a dressing room that has

'Y/N Y/L/N' printed on a gold name plate on the door.- Ok, here's your opening outfit. -She hands you your first piece of lingerie- Holler if you need help with the bra!" She says as she walks out of the small room. "I have your wings out here when you're done!" She yells from outside. "Okay!" Although it was never your fault, things always seemed to go this way with every show. You were always running late. Whether it was a wardrobe malfunction or a burn with the curling iron, it was always something.

THEO:

It had been an on going tradition with the boys and Pansy to go see the VS fashion shows. I mean who didn't wanna see dozens of goddesses walking up and down a runway in lingerie? Me, Draco, Blaise, and Pansy are all walking through the VIP access to get to our seats. Every year without fail we had front row seats to the shows. Front row usually consisted of celebrities and important people from the fashion industry but when you have as much money as we do, we fit right in. Tonight me and the group were wearing all black Ralph Lauren, except for Pansy she was wearing Versace from the dress to the shoe. She opted for the Medusa '95 Midi Dress with the matching pumps, she wore her short chic hair tucked behind her ears. She looked absolutely stunning. If she didn't swing the other way I would've probably tried snagging her up myself. I wore an obsidian black tuxedo jacket with the matching tux pants, underneath I wore a black turtle neck long sleeve. My shoes were black aswell shined to absolute perfection. Blaise and Draco wore almost the same but a different variation of the shirts and pants. When we went anywhere publicized or not we came in outfits that were made to impress. Although our choices weren't as flashy or branded as others our style choices showed our money. Only if you paid attention to fashion would you know that this simple cashmere turtle neck costed $1,000. Or that Pansy's dress and heels total were $3,000. Or even Draco's rings that costed more than an apartment in Manhattan. Our style choices tonight were nothing short of perfection.

We finally take our seats we are sat close to the end of the runway. It had the best view from our experience. And you also got to see the girls more up close. You could see every laced detail and every diamond on their stunning lingerie pieces. Although we had all originally started coming as a joke we started taking these shows as a chance to get publicity. About 2 years ago Pansy had made friends with one of the models at an after party and the next day they were seen on Hollywood boulevard shopping and they ended up getting hit with paparazzi. Pansy and Karolina were on the cover of Teen-Vogue, STAR US, and were posted all over countless TMZ gossip blogs. That's when we realized how much publicity we could get just from being here. That's also when we decided to buy VIP tickets to the shows. The paparazzi tended to pay much more attention to the VIP entrances hoping to get shots of celebrities entering in and out of the venue. I mean if you acted important the paparazzi seemed to think that you were important. We had gotten pictures of us taken and posted on page 6. of STAR US captioned, 'Seen at the Victoria's Secret Angel Show last night these mystery guests have appeared yet again! Wearing only luxury designers, who could these people be? Their outfits all together cost more than my mortgage! Girls across America have been on the hunt to find these handsome boys. Mysterious and totally gorgeous? Count me in on the search!' The amount of publicity was insane and even now seated from row we have the paparazzi taken pictures of us every now and then. As we all converse with eachother about the show the lights in the venue begin to dim, the crowd goes silent.

Y/N:

You stood in line on your mark behind Gisele and another angel. Your nerves were crazy. Stylist swarmed the line of girls getting every last flyaway slicked, making sure every heel was clasped, fluffing all wings. You nervously shook your hands taking a breath.

"10, -The backstage manager yelled- 9," "Ok girls! Keep on beat! AND KEEP THE CROWD ENTERTAINED!" Not only were you girls there to model you were there as an advertisement. A campaign. You were entertainers. Performers. Keeping the crowd focused on you and nothing else was your main goal during shows. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1" You could hear the audience cheering for Justin Timberlake as he arose from a platform that was hidden underneath the runway. The beat to 'Sexyback' could be heard all throughout the venue. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Gisele." The manager said giving Gisele her cue to walk. As she opened the show the crowd roared and you could hear the cameras shuttering. "Ok, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Alessandra." She walked out more and more cameras shuttering. It was your turn. This is the moment where all your jitters wash away. Nervous backstage, confident bombshell on stage. You placed your hands on your hips and get ready to walk. "5, 4, 3, -during these moments time always seemed to slow. Everything around you was in slow motion as you prepared for the moment when you would be in the gaze of hundreds of people.- 2, 1. Y/n."

Not missing one beat your body moved in sync with Justin's music. As you appeared on the runway, it felt as if a flash bomb had went off. The hundreds of cameras flash flashed before you. You looked absolutely perfect. Your opening lingerie was stunning. The bra itself was a white gold fabric with 24k diamonds that were delicately placed to make a lacy like pattern. Your panties were low waisted, barely leaving anything for the imagination, the fabric had small diamonds around the waist and elegant lacy white gold patterns. Your wings made you look like a literal angel. The feathers were white and fluffy they faded into gold at the tips. Your heels were stiletto embroidered with more bling that you can ever imagine. You looked stunning. You walked as if you owned the runway, like you owned the venue. The crowd loved you. Justin faced you giving you playful eyes. You reached out your hand, playfully wiggling your finger motioning him to come you to you. He obliged. He walked towards you as you continued your catwalk to him. Once you came close enough you ghosted your hand across his chest and continued walking. As he sang he checked you out as he did every model. As you approached the end of the runway you met eyes with a man. He was quite handsome in your opinion, -I mean absolutely gorgeous, he was eye candy to you- and that was saying a lot. I mean you're a Victoria's Secret supermodel. His eyes were icy and grey. Even with all the flashes of the cameras his eyes stayed almost dead? But not in a bad way, a totally invitingly sexy way. He sat forward as you approached the end of the stage. A small flirty smirk played on his lips. You didn't know why but you felt, -almost drawn?- to him. As you got closer the cameras flashed more than ever. "Y/n! Over here!" "Y/n!" "Y/n!!!" The photographers and crowd shouted your name. Even with all the people calling for your attention you couldn't look away from his eyes. There was just something about them. As you reached the end of the runway you finally ripped your eyes away from his and looked into the mob of flashes. A flirty smile on your lips as you posed for the cameras. You rested one of your hands on your hip and the other raised to your mouth. You sexily bit down on your pointer finger as you basically made love to the sea cameras with your eyes. After your designated 10 seconds on the head of the stage it was time to strut back to backstage. A playful smile replaced the flirty as you looked away from the cameras, you turned to walk back. You glanced back at the mystery man and kept walking flirting with Justin as you walked.

The next segment you were walking was segment 3: Come fly with me. Once again your piece was absolutely perfect for you. Your top was a simple baby pink bra with bold white detailing. Your skirt was a matching low waisted super mini skirt that showed the white underwear you wore underneath the skirt. You wore a small matching jacket, the sleeves went to your elbows. You had a cute flight attendant hat to go with. You carried with you a cute little baby pink pamphlet with a pink airplane on the front. It gave Hue Hefners flight attendant in all the right ways. As the 2nd segment was happening you were actually ahead of time. You actually had time to talk for the BTS clips and take pictures with the other models. You were talking with Miranda when the manager yelled. "Y/N! On your mark!!!" She yelled as she rushed you into the line of models. "Sorry!" You said worried as you rushed to your place behind Adriana.

The segment was already about to start. There was only about a minute intermission between the segments and that minute if even one model was late could ruin the entire show. You really needed to start paying attention to your marks. "OKAY GIRLS! KEEP. THEM. ENTERTAINED. DO SOMETHING!!! ANYTHING WE WANT THE COVER! NOT PAGE 3!!!" The managers always yelled backstage it was nothing new. Although to anyone else it would sound mean. But that's their job. It's their responsibility to make sure that the show goes smooth without any hiccups or problems. It was also their job to make sure to instruct the girls on what to fix and improve. "Okay Adrianna. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1." The manager said as she strutted out from backstage. Once again you found yourself in the trance like state. The tv that was backstage showed what the cameras were broadcasting as Adriana approaches the head of the runway you hear the long awaited count down. "5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Y/n." All worries wash away and once again you're that girl. You cat walked that damn stage like never before. Your glittering legs moved to the beat and your hips swayed with the rhythm. The cameras bombed you per usual. You knew you were gonna be on a cover or atleast a headline. You always were. You were just that girl. The crowd always loved you, they lived for you. You approached the end of the runway. Even in the middle of hundreds of eyes you could feel one stare particularly. His eyes were paralyzing. You fluttering your eyelashes at him as you continue walking up. You looked him up and down flirtatiously and he did the same. You acted on impulse -not on thought- When you got to the end of the runway you fanned yourself with the pamphlet, then tossed the pamphlet into the man's lap, and shot him a flirty wink then strutted away. Hundreds more cameras flashed it seemed like they were faster than the speed of light. We were definitely getting front cover. I mean the manager said to keep the people entertained?

THEO:

"Bro, what the fuck!" Blaise laughed as the angel walked away. "Theo, I told you! I swear she was looking at you like you were candyyy!" Pansy giggled. I just stared in awe at the pink pamphlet that laid in my lap. "Dude...she's into you!" Draco said basically geeking. "What the fuck." I said picking up the pamphlet as cameras flashed at me.

Y/N:

"Y/n?! What the hell was that?" One of the backstage managers said as she came out of nowhere. "Uhhh" You stared blankly at the woman. "Y/n, you're an angel! -she kisses you on the cheek- We just got 400 thousand more viewers on the live broadcast when you did that! God! Muah! Muah! -she continued giving you forehead kisses- Oh my god! -she smacks her forehead- We need to get you to wardrobes!" She shrieked as she pulled you by your hand through the crowd of models. Some of the girls whistling at you. You both finally made it to the dressing rooms. Although you weren't walking segment 4 or 5 you were opening and closing for the 6th segment: Winter Wonderland of Glacial Goddess. So ohh did you need all the time you could gather to get ready.

This time they re did your eyeshadow to an icy shimmer look. It truly did make your eyes pop. You were in all white and silver. The bra was absolutely stunning. Nearly blinding with the amount of diamonds. The designer had told you the lingerie costed more than the venue itself. And that was saying a lot. This is L.A. and this venue. It was absolutely nothing short of breath taking. You were opening this segment in the 6million dollar bra. All eyes would be on you I mean how couldn't they be the bra was basically built out of diamonds. The main focus of this piece was this bra. "Okay Y/n! Good luck! Maybe flirt with your mystery man again... -ooo's erupt from the girls- but good luck not that you need it! WE HAVE ONE MINUTE LADIES!" The manager yelled as she walked around instructing the staff on what to fix on the models. Your nerves got the best of you, you were shaking your hands and popping your knuckles. After what felt like hours you finally heard the count down. "Ok Y/n, show the world the physical embodiment of winter goddess! 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Go." As you hear the beat of the music you get into the rhythm.

Your hips were swaying smoothly with ease. Gasps and whistles erupted from the crowd as you walked slowly and sensually. Your wings flowing behind you. Being the opener of the segment you got to walk down the center of the runway. All eyes were on you. The cameras were flashing at such a rate you thought the photographers would've ran out of storage by now. The diamonds blinging with every shot taken. When you got to the middle mark of the runway you did a small but quick spin. Once you neared the end of the runway you felt the fans blowing on you and the artificial snow falling from the ceiling made the whole scene perfect. Your eyes fluttered at the cameras and your lips parted slightly. Your hands rested lightly on your hips. After your designated time was up and the next model started walking down the runway you glance down to the man you have been flirting with all night. You looked from his eyes and then back down to his lap where the baby pink pamphlet laid then back up to his eyes. You blew him a kiss, then giggled when you seen his friend practically leap across a girl and a blonde man to catch it. The way he looked at you wasn't like how any other man looked at you it was with that same thirsty look you'd seen on every man at the shows it was more like admiration. He looked at you like you were a literal goddess on Earth. Hundreds of cameras caught the moment. You were living for this. I mean obviously all these stunts were getting you publicity, but there was just something about this man that drew you to him. It made you want to continue this flirty behavior towards him. You couldn't put your finger on exactly what it was. His alluring eyes? His perfectly tailored suit that showed his physique? Or perhaps the way he rolled a single gold ring between his fingers? You didn't know this man was truly a mystery.

You went backstage once more and covered your face with your hands in embarrassment as a group of stage directors and managers swarmed you. "The viewers are living for this!" "Your name is all over Facebook and MySpace!" "You gotta keep this going!" "Did you plan this?" "This is definitely making front cover!" You laugh in embarrassment of the very public flirting situation you have going on with some random you've never met before. "Oh my god! What do I do next? I mean there's not much I can do. It's not like I can pull him up on stage or anything? I don't even know the guy!" You say as they all rush you back to the dressing rooms. "Yes! Yes! Do exactly that!" "Do what? No. I won't that's- that's just embarrassing. Not only for me but for him! Like I said before I don't even know the guy!" You explained as the group of stylists quickly changed you into your next lingerie set.

Again there you stood on your mark in line watching as the line of ansy girls get shorter and shorter. You were gonna be closing the same segment you opened. And ohhh were you nervous. I mean who wouldn't be? You stand there nervously shaking your hands trying calm yourself down. Taking deep breaths as you watch the cue get shorter and shorter. "Okay Y/n, you ready?" One of the backstage managers asks lightly resting a hand on your back. "Yeah..Yeah I'm ready." You lightly smile. As you approach the hidden door way where you're supposed to enter the stage. Even from backstage you can hear the photographer's cameras flashing, and the people clapping and whistling. You snap out of your thoughts and look up. There's only one girl in front of you in line. You take quite possibly the longest breath you've ever taken before you hear those same repetitive words you've been hearing all night. "Okay Y/n, you ready?" You only nod in response. "10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, Go." As soon as you heard the word you had to force yourself to walk. You could not let your nerves get the best of you right now.

    You walked onto the stage looking as ethereal as humanly possible. The bra had dozens of dainty diamond embedded silver chains that traveled down your body to the panties. The thong had the same diamond chains dangling from it that connected with your sheer sparkling thigh highs. The diamonds that were connected with the one that laid against your torso also traveled up and around your neck creating a diamond choker illusion. Your stilettos were covered in the same stunning diamonds. You were dripping head to toe in bling. And let's not get started on your wings. The wings were extravagant. There was feathers that blended into a sheer flowing fabric at the ends that blew and bounced in the wind when you walked. You had a head piece aswell it blended into your hair making it look like you had diamonds and snow in your hair. Your earrings were diamonds that were engraved to simulate snowflakes. You were an actual winter goddess.

     As you appeared on stage the crowd went absolutely crazy. You walked per usual but this time walking directly down the middle of the stage, hips gliding with the music. Your wings flowing and bouncing with every step you took. Looking from left to right engaging with the crowd. As you walked closer and closer to the end of the stage once again you locked eyes with him. You gave him a wink before posing for the cameras. Since you were closing you had an extended amount of time to pose for the cameras. It was like a flash bomb had went off. Every. Single. Photographer. in the building was taking hundreds of pictures of you. You stood there hands on your hips letting the artificial snow and wind do its job.

After your designated time you made a rash decision. Instead of turning around and walking back to backstage. You stepped down the stairs that were at the end of the stage and approached the mystery man. His eyes no longer appeared sleepy or dead, but now utterly surprised. Once you got close enough you extended your hand to him, and he happily obliged. His cold hand took yours and you guided him back up onto the stage. His friends whistling at you two. The cameras bombed you two. Once you got back on stage he gave you a little twirl. Your fingers were loosely grasping his as you guided him to backstage. You walked in front of him looking back at him every few seconds.

You both finally made it backstage and immediately you two were surrounded by managers and stylists, models gawking at you two. The models were laughing and smiling at the sight. "Ahh! Y/n you did it!" Your managers said wrapping an arm around you. Some of the backstage cameras recording and taking photos of the both of you. "And what's your name?" The manager turned and asked the man. He looked completely dazed and confused, while also smiling. "Uhm, Theo. Theodore Nott." He said shaking the managers hand. "Well I have business to attend to. You can stay backstage until we're done! Uhhh! Stacy get him a backstage pass!" The manager shouted for her assistant. Stacy comes up to him and wraps a lanyard around his neck. You turn to him to find him already looking at you. "So uhm, sorry about all that. I was just- My manager told me to." You looked down to find that you were both still holding hands. You quickly let go when you realized. "Yeah, no worries. I was just confused...but I really don't mind." His voice was as smooth as velvet.

As you looked up at him you took the opportunity to take in all of his features. He truly was as handsome as you thought. You both kinda just stood there looking at each other. "So...would you want to go to dinner with me?" He asks breaking the silence between you two. Even backstage where there's girls running around trying to get changing out of their pieces and managers trying to make sure everyone was doing their jobs, you felt as if the room was silent. "Yeah, that would be nice." You said softly as you tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His expression once questioning now soft. A small smile laced his lips. "I'm gonna go get changed, uhm, there's drinks and a snack table over there if you want anything. Oh, and if you want you could bring your friends back stage with you." You said giving him a small smile. "Yeah, okay, take your time. There's no rush." He said giving you one last smile before you turned to go back to the dressing room.

You made your way to the dressing room and when you got there you were swarmed with girls squealing and asking you questions. "Okay, okay. So, he asked me to dinner." "And what'd you say?!" "Well obviously I said yes!" All the girls were jumping and hugging you. "Well hurry up and get changed already you can't keep him waiting!!!" They ushered you into your dressing room and you hurriedly got changed back into your clothes you had came to the venue in. Due to the fact that before the show you had an interview for the BTS footage your outfit was simple. It was a black strapless dress from Versace that ended at a little below your knees. Your shoes were black Gianni Ribbon Pumps from Versace as well. Your hair was still in its classic VS blowout. You carried a small black shoulder purse. You stepped back out of your dressing room. "Do I look okay?" You said with a worried expression. "Yes? Is that even a question Y/n?" One model said smiling at you. You began walking out of the dressing room before quickly turning around, "Wait i'm nervous!" "Y/n you'll be finee! I'll walk you out of the dressing room, c'monnn let's go!" She said hooking your arm with hers. She walked you maybe 15feet out of the room and then he was in your line of sight. He and his friends stood all together right where you left him. The girl was chatting with Karolina and a stylist. "Now go...see he's waiting for you~" She cooed in your ear. You gave her a 'really.' look. "Okay —you take a breath— wish me luck!" You say before turning to walk over to him.

You immediately catch all of his attention. He looks almost awestruck? "Hey, i'm ready to go." You say softly smiling up at him. Your gaze then wanders to his friends who are watching and giggling at you two. "Don't worry about them, I already called the car service for them. As for us we'll be going to Providence. It's a very nice restaurant, I think you'll like it." He says with a charming smile. You've never been there but from what you've heard about the place the restaurant sounded luxury. "Yeah that's fine with me, whenever you're ready to go I am." Right when you say that your manager comes rushing to you. "Y/n! Y/n!" She says nearly out of breath as ran up to you. "Oh, Y/n~" She says as she sees you standing next to Theo. You roll your eyes playfully. "I just got you an interview with the director of GUCCI! He wants to speak with you now though so let's go!" She says trying to yank you. "Ericka! Wait!" You slightly yell trying to get out of her grasp. She lets go turning around to you with a worried face. You turn back around to Theo. "I'm sorry, I don't think-" He cuts you off, "Don't worry about it bella, we'll schedule dinner for another time. Now go. Don't let me stop you, okay." He says charming as ever as he tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You blush slightly and give him a small smile. "Okay, thank you for understanding. Oh! Uhm, Ericka do you have a pen?" "Yeah, yeah, here." She says as she frantically looks for a pen and gives one to you. You take his hand and write.

415-***-**** Call me. XoXo.

You fold his hand then lean up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He just stands there slightly blushing. "I'll see you soon, yeah?" You ask as you turn to walk away with Ericka. "Yeah." He says as he slightly licks his lips.

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