#i am nervous for this one jesus fuck

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TEN

in which you and eddie find out just how much can happen on the roof of a parking garage. a scary criminal could show up, a phone call could interrupt important moments, a bit could go too far, and... marriage vows could be exchanged?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, one (1) use of y/n, minors dni

→ wc: 8k+

→ a/n: if this is bad don't hmu. i returned to my wordy girl roots. also shout out to @br0ck-eddie and @big-ope-vibes for beta reading this for me <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

10:00 ─────ㅇ──────────── 24:00

HOUR TEN - 1:00 AM

Eddie is an erratic driver, which you should have known, but it doesn’t make you any less scared as he takes the empty curves of each street with intense speed. It doesn’t make you loosen your grip as you press into him as tightly as possible, practically molding your body to his. 

You’re just grateful he was right – you didn’t see another soul for the entirety of the five minute drive. And if you did, you would have been mortified for them to see the way you clung to him. 

His secondary location is a parking garage. If it were anyone else, if it were even so much as Eddie from ten hours before, sirens would be going off in your head and screaming for you to run as far as possible from this situation. 

You don’t. Because it’s Eddie, and it’s Eddie being kind and flirty and civil. A new version of Eddie, and a new version of you. 

You sit still and polite as he navigates the bike through a gap in the gate, the perfect size for a motorcycle to fit. 

He keeps driving in circles, nearly making you dizzy, going up up up the parking garage levels until the ceiling breaks and you catch sight of the night sky again. The stars are more visible this high up, above the buzz of the city, closer to the atmosphere in altitude. 

“Still alive back there?” he calls out as he cuts the engine, coming to a stop in one of the darker corners of the top level. You tell yourself it’s for practicality – if any sort of security happened upon this level, the two of you would remain hidden.

“Mhm,” you hum just loud enough for him to hear you through the helmet, arms aching from how tightly you continue to hold onto him. 

If either of your hands were to slip, you’d graze against his partially exposed torso. Your fingers would make contact with his hips, would trace the expanse of curves and softness, possibly find their way to the trail of sparse hair down the center of his stomach. 

It’s enough to make you fist his shirt into both hands, just to prevent that outcome. 

“You sure?” he twists his body to look at you, and as he does, a hand comes up to rest on one of your arms. 

It’s just a hand, and it’s just an arm. It’s just skin on skin. It’s nothing to call home about; Robin has grabbed your forearm plenty of times out of unbridled excitement, Steve has held onto it to guide you through crowds without losing you countless times, even Nancy has held your arm there before. None of them ever burned you before. 

Maybe it’s not that Eddie’s touch scorns you, it’s not his palm kissed with flames. When his skin closes over yours, it only focuses your fire. That’s why it sears, that’s why it leaves your skin nothing but hot coals. 

You burn for him. 

“I’m positive,” your breath threatens to fog up the glass visor from the inside, “How do I get off this thing?” 

He chuckles, and the hand holding your arm trails down, passing each of your knuckles with the press of a fingertip, drenched in intention. There is no reason for his touch to linger. There is no reason for him to draw roadmaps over your skin – it isn’t his to mark. And yet, the ashen lines appear all the same to you. 

“Just swing off. I’ll stay sitting to balance the bike.” 

You unravel your arms from around him, leaning your chest away from his back and immediately missing the proximity. You miss it as you clutch his shoulders, you miss it as you lift off the bike, you miss it as you stumble ever so slightly with your feet planted on concrete, and his hand shoots out to your hip in an effort to balance you. 

It was an earnest effort, a casual touch, absolutely nothing but innocence in his fingertips as they wrap around your hip for a mere second before retracting. That doesn’t stop it from being gasoline on your fire. 

He stands off of the bike unaware of the effect he’s continuing to have on you, pulling the keys from the ignition and popping the kickstand with such cruel casualty it begins to drive you insane. 

“You need help with the helmet, or is it just part of your look now?” Eddie inquires as he walks around the back of the bike to stand in front of you. 

The fucking smirk and the fucking dimples and the fucking eyes and the fucking-

“I need help,” you deadpan, playing into his game of cat and mouse. You’re willing to see how far you can push this until it breaks, is he? “You put it on me – you take it off.” 

Your mind wanders to his comment, his threat, earlier. How if you didn’t get ready to come here, he’d undress you himself. 

If him taking off this helmet is the closest you will ever get to that, so be it. It’ll give you something to think about tomorrow night in the comfort of your own bed. 

Eddie shrugs happily, taking a step forward and carefully reaching out both hands to either side of the helmet. He’s slow in lifting it off, certainly just being careful and mindful of not hurting you, but it sends you hurtling even further to insanity. Inch by inch, the night’s cool air creeps up over your chin, over your cheeks, over the bridge of your nose. Your eyes flutter shut somewhere in the process.

When the helmet is fully removed, you keep your eyes shut. You wait for the shuffle of Eddie stepping back from you. You anticipate a comment on the state of your hair, your surely disastrous ‘helmet head’. 

Neither comes. Instead, a warm breath hits your now cold cheek. 

Your eyes open to find Eddie standing impossibly close to you. All downcast amber as his eyes trace over your face steadily, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips that remain slightly agape with each puffing breath. You don’t think he’s even recognized the way you had closed your eyes, nor the moment you’d opened them to catch him memorizing you up close. 

“Eddie?” your voice cracks with the questioning, his name heavy on your tongue, “Is… Is everything okay?” 

When his brown eyes meet yours, gilded honey and roasted chestnuts, they make your breath catch. 

He nods with trepidation before breathing out, “Yeah. Everything’s…” 

His words trail off, fading out into the buzz of the night surrounding you. The sounds of a city that never sleeps – distant sirens, a one-off car alarm, the random chirping of a bird, the beeping of a crosswalk signal. They all meld together into white noise, none of the singular components discernible. They’re nothing more than a background to the way Eddie is looking at you. 

He raises a hand suddenly, still leaning in at a creeping pace, and tentatively reaches out to carefully tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. As his fingers curl into the skin behind your ear, lingering for far too long, the heel of his palm brushes your cheek. 

You lean into it. Your face turns ever so slightly, eyes beginning to flutter again, desperately seeking out his touch. Enticing him to break, to cup your face fully, to give you more than you deserve in this moment. 

Because he’s looking at you as if he’s about to kiss you. His eyes are flickering to your lips as you give in to futile want and heedless need, continuing to lean into his feathered touch, and you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. And you’re sure that you’ll let him. 

His chest heaves just as painfully as yours. His pupils widen larger than yours, if possible. You watch an internal war rage behind his eyes, and you’re begging the part of him that wants you, wants this, to come out the victor. You want him to abandon all sensibility as you have. 

Fuck civility. Fuck nuclear explosions. Fuck ocean waves. Fuck forest fires. Fuck friendship. 

You’re past the point of return. All you want from him is his lips on your lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers, a sickly sweet prayer falling from his lips, not a single ounce of malice soaked into the nickname. It’s not sweetheart. It’s not uttered in the same playful cadence as when he said it as he started up the bike. It’s not him teasing you. It’s a plea, a beg – he’s begging something of you that you’re too far gone to recognize. 

But you hum in response, not knowing what he’s asking of you, opening your eyes as wide as you can manage in your moment of weakness, recognizing that his palm now fully cups your cheeks as his fingertips lazily press into your hairline. He’s closer now, leaning over you and covering you in his shadow, multiplying the darkness you reside in. 

His nose bumps against yours. The oxygen you breathe in is replaced by his breath. He’s close, so terribly close, yet still so far. You’re tempted to finish the distance, but you need him to come to you. You need him to want this as much as you do, if not more. 

You need to be the ocean this time. Because if you come to him, you’ll drown. You’ll descend to his darkest depths, and never find yourself above the surface again. Irreparable, collateral damage to yourself. All for wanting a man you’d claimed to hate ten hours prior. 

Eddie’s freehand is grazing your hip, prepared to curl around you with force this time, to pull you into him and kiss you until the two of you are left bloodied and bruised, when your phone rings. 

Both of you jump. In an instant, the closeness is lost – his hand leaves your cheek and hair, your eyes fully open, both of you stand awkwardly and flustered in the light shadows. 

“I-” you don’t know what to say, hands shaking as you reach into your pocket and wretch out your phone. 

JOHNNY BOY. 

Jonathan is calling you, and you don’t know whether you want to commit a federal crime against him or your phone. Or maybe yourself. 

You swear you can taste Eddie despite your lips never touching his. You can still feel the weight of his palm against you. 

He has to take the phone from you, this time only because you’re holding it so tightly, glaring down at it so indignantly, he’s scared you might break it. 

His thumb that once rested against your skin so gently is gliding across the screen, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hello?” 

“Hey! Eddie!” Jonathan’s voice happily calls out, and it does nothing to chip away at your fruitless fury. 

He was going to kiss you, and now he can’t even look you in your eyes. 

“Are you both there right now? Or is she asleep?” Jonathan continues over the line. 

You finally break your silence, “I’m here. We’re both here.” 

“Where are you dudes?” A second voice from Jonathan’s side of the call asks, and you recognize that warm tone immediately. Argyle. 

He won’t look at you. His gaze is sturdy on the phone, as if this wasn’t just a regular phone call but a video chat, as if there’s something more interesting being reflected in the screen compared to your currently desperate face. 

You want to scream at him to hang up the phone. You want to beg him to throw the damn device over the wall behind the two of you and let it fall to the street, let it shatter and let the deal be damned just so you can feel his lips on yours and taste the sweetness of his tongue. 

You just want to scream, honestly. Like a child. Stomp your foot, let out a fitful shriek, and pull the boy back into you. 

You don’t. Partially because you’re grown, and partially because he won’t look at you. 

There’s a doubt that creeps up as Eddie says something to the two boys on the line, a shadow of doubt that is darker than the night sky hanging above you two. Maybe Eddie didn’t want this. Maybe he’d just gotten lost in the moment, and now he felt ashamed. 

The scream is left in your lungs, and the blooms on your vines quiver from the insecurity its residency radiates. 

“Alright,” Eddie suddenly chuckles, pulling you back into the conversation, “So, uh, did you guys call for anything else besides playing babysitter?” 

“No, that’s… all,” there’s hesitation in Jonathan’s voice, words unspoken that finally makes Eddie look up to catch your gaze. 

Brown eyes meet yours – you burst into flames like it’s the first time. 

The shadow of doubt eviscerates in the glow of the flames, the glow of your cheeks, as you watch him take you in with careful consideration. There’s no regret in those eyes, only remarkable care. A connection, a string tying you to him, the knots first set in place that night amongst friends. 

He’s looking at you like the Eddie you thought to be dead and gone. 

“You sure about that?” his tone is teasing, but his face is set in stone, eyes never leaving yours, “Sounds like you’ve got more to say, Byers.” 

Argyle is the one who speaks up now, “It’s not that, it’s just… The photo you dudes sent is on your motorcycle. Are you even at your apartment right now?” 

“Oh, absolutely. We actually only went outside to have a photoshoot on old Nightfury here. We’re currently safely tucked into bed, don’t worry, dudes.” 

Eddie’s finally cracking a grin at you, and through it you’re transported to the past. Before you is a man of possibility, someone not yet an enemy. There’s a blank page set out before the two of you, and he’s wielding the pen like a weapon to be seen. 

Nightfury? You mouth at him. 

He blushes in response. 

Oh, you’re definitely bringing that up after this phone call. Fuck talking about the almost kiss. 

“Why do you sound so sarcastic?” Argyle questions, “Are you lying to us?” 

“Argy- Yes, he’s lying. Christ, where is she? Put her on the phone instead,” Jonathan sounds entertainingly frustrated at the moment, and you take a step forward, palm reaching out for your cell. 

Eddie doesn’t hand it over, head tilted at you, his youth breaking through the shadows that sharpen his jaw, “No can do, boss. Already tossed her body into the canals.” 

“You what-” Jonathan’s voice is shrill, and Eddie bites back his laughter as he remembers that Steve is the only one in on that inside joke amongst the three of you. 

“He’s lying,” you finally call out, taking another step closer, “I’m fine. He’s… it’s a joke. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay. But are you guys actually at the apartment, or not?” 

“We’re not,” your honesty has Eddie playfully scowling. 

I hope you kiss me when this is over. I hope you berate me for not playing along, and I hope you press me against the cold concrete behind us, and I hope you kiss me until I can’t breathe. 

The version of yourself from ten hours ago is practically wailing on the floor, kicking and screaming in defeat. You don’t even care. You can admit it – you want Eddie Munson to kiss you. You don’t have to say it out loud, you don’t have to voice that want quite yet. It’s enough for your beating heart to silently admit it and accept the truth. 

“Then where are you two? Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but you’re shaking your head with warning, knowing he’ll only lie and make things worse, “Some parking garage. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Some parking gar- are you two fucking stupid? It’s one in the morning, go home,” Jonathan’s using a brotherly voice you’ve only had the pleasure of hearing on rare occasions – usually when you’ve joined him, Steve, and Robin out at the bars, and the latter two have drank well beyond their limits. 

“We know what time it is,” Eddie scoffs. Now that he’s set his stare on you, he’s unrelenting. He keeps you in his line of vision as if you’re a buoy in his ocean, as if he’s capable of getting lost in his own waves. 

Hopefully he is. If you can’t be an ocean to him, you hope he has to suffer in his own depths. 

“We’re being safe,” you assure the two boys over the line. If you took one more step, you would brush up against Eddie. Shoulder to shoulder, cotton sleeve against leather sleeve. You don’t, but the thought still thrills you. 

“Safe?” Jonathan is now scoffing, making Eddie twist his face in annoyance, which makes you want to laugh. He’s getting a taste of his own medicine. “Do you two even know our city’s crime levels? Eddie, I’ve seen you in fights, you cannot-”

“First of all, you’ve seen me in drunken fights,” Eddie snaps in interruption, finally looking down at the phone he holds, “I can throw a fucking punch when I haven’t drank my body weight in whiskey. Second of all, we’re fine. I’m sure if I can’t take whatever big, scary criminal that comes our way, little miss independent here can. She’s scarier than we give her credit for.” 

Silence. You almost don’t notice the way Jonathan and Argyle have gone quiet as you’re still hung up on the nickname of little miss independent. 

Eddie’s the one who steps closer this time. He glances around the empty rooftop of the parking garage, and he takes a microscopic step closer to you. It’s more of a shuffle, really, but it’s enough for your shoulders to finally brush. 

“Shit, man,” Argyle is sighing over the line, as you stare at the ground and Eddie stares at you, “Nance was right.” 

Eddie freezes. There’s a choking sound from the phone, and it sounds an awful lot like Jonathan. 

Nance was… right? 

“What was Nance right about?” you ask, looking up to Eddie quickly. You expect him to be just as confused as you are but he looks petrified.

If all his blood hadn’t drained from his expression, he’d surely be blushing. But he’s stark pale beneath the moonlight, eyes glued to the screen as if Argyle could see his death stare over the line. He looks like a man caught red-handed. You have to look over his palms, the one holding your phone as well as the one quickly being shoved awkwardly into his pocket, just to double check that the skin there isn’t painted maroon. 

“What was Nancy right about?” you repeat yourself, but the question is less directed at the phone now. You don’t care about Argyle or Jonathan’s answer – you care about Eddie’s, “What did she sa-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jonathan interrupts, “We’ve gotta go, but there’s no need for you guys to send a photo this hour. We, uh, we’re the only ones awake probably, so… consider this your official hourly check in. Please, stay safe.” 

“Talk later, my dudes!” Argyle yells in the background. 

The line goes dead. The black screen returns to flash both yours and Eddie’s face in the reflection. One looks overexposed, left out in the light for far too long, and the other looks shadowed, as if having been left behind in the dark. 

You’ve been left in the dark. Whatever just happened between the three boys, you’re clueless to it. 

You have to put your hand out for Eddie to give back the phone, still looking far more nervous than he was before the phone call. All the cocky attitude, all the hints of teasing, all the almost kisses are gone. 

Now’s a perfect opportunity to grill him on what Nancy said. He obviously knows, and if you were smart, you’d dig your heels in and force an explanation from it. You deserve answers; after an exchange of apologies and a quiet acceptance from both of you at giving this a real chance tonight, you deserve to not be left as the odd one out still. 

“Why is your bike named Nightfury?” 

Except it’s not the perfect opportunity. If you ask him now, he’ll deny knowing anything about it. You’ve learned a lot about Eddie in the last ten hours, and the major discovery has been the way in which he uncurls pieces of himself for your eyes only. He is slow and shy in being observed, and he won’t offer honesty when put on the spot like that. 

If you change the topic, if you let it slide, he might tell you on his own time. You’re praying he tells you on his own time. 

He looks taken back by your question, watching as you tuck your phone away into the pocket of his sweats that rest on your hips, “What?”

“You mentioned your bike’s name is Nightfury,” you shrug nonchalantly, “Is it some superhero reference I’m not getting? It’s fitting, but I just… I don’t know. I’m intrigued, I guess.” 

“Superhero reference? Uh, no, not quite,” he scrunches up his face, and you recall the weight of his palm on your cheek. The almost taste of his lips almost on yours, “It’s- Jesus Christ, now I wish it was a superhero reference. The truth is so lame.” 

You break a smile and bump your shoulder against his, trying to shake the racing of your heart, “Can’t be more lame than all your action figures back home.” 

“Didn’t you say they were actually cool?” 

“I actually called them creepy, if I’m recalling correctly.” 

The two of you move as a unit, gliding over to the concrete ledge that over looks the city, simultaneously leaning your full body weight onto your forearms as Eddie digs out a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket’s pocket. 

He catches you eyeballing them, and immediately shakes his head, tapping the top of the carton against the palm of his hand (the same palm that was once cradling your face so gently), “I’m not sharing my cigs. Fuck off.” 

There’s no malice, and that’s probably the only reason that, once he’s pulled his own cigarette out of the pack and discarded it onto the concrete in front of the two of you, you immediately shoot a hand out to take one. You await for him to snap at you, to smack your hand away, to repeat himself. 

He stays silent as you pull one for yourself. Offers his lighter, even, once the end of his glows cherry red. 

You wish he would just lean over and occupy your space again, cup his hand around the end of the cigarette that is dangerously close to your cheek, let the flint fueled flame flicker between you as your gasoline fueled embers sparked to life again. You wish, you wish, and you wish. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t even meet your eyes as you pass the lighter back and inhale the smoke. 

You hold it until his fingertips brush the palm of your hand, before you exhale sharply. 

“It’s from How to Train Your Dragon.” 

You have your cigarette halfway to your mouth, leaving it hovering as you side-eye him, “What?”

“Nightfury. It’s from the movie, How to Train Your Dragon. The, uh, main dragon, Toothless, is a Nightfury.” 

Oh, Jesus Christ. You already wanted to kiss him badly enough, already found your defenses drooping limply when it came to him, and then he had to go and say shit like that. 

“You named your motorcycle,” you start slowly, tilting your head in his direction, “After an animated movie? Cute, although I don’t think scary metalheads like yourself were the intended audience.”

Your words make the corners of his mouth twitch. Smoke curls out from the center of his lips, puckered in consideration as he turns his gaze to the buildings towering around you. “I’m a massive nerd who holds a weekly D&D club and collects mythical creature figurines. I am exactly their intended audience.” 

“You have a D&D club?” 

You’ve learned a lot about Eddie tonight. And yet, every new discovery you uncover continues to surprise you.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he laughs quietly into the night air, “You saw the inside of my apartment, did you really not see the whole Dungeons and Dragons bit coming?” 

You shrug, still watching him watch the city, “I… I don’t know. Contrary to belief, I really don’t know much about you. A shame, really.”

“Are you trying to say you’d like to know more about me, sweetheart?” 

Yes. “God, no. I think I’ve had my fill of Eddie Munson Jeopardy for the night, thank you very much.” 

You want to know the name of his band, you want him to ramble on about the game you know nothing about, you want him to elaborate more on his love for How to Train Your Dragon. You’re brimming with wants, overflowing your cup with curiosity. He shouldn’t intrigue you this way. It’s dangerous – you don’t know where you’ll put all this information when the night ends and you two part ways, both five hundred dollars richer and returning to the hatred that had been established. 

Was it even hatred anymore? Or had it morphed into a softened version of itself, something more akin to indifference? 

“Hey, Eddie,” you watch your cigarette burn away at itself, think of it like your insides as the flecks of ash fly off into the wind of their own accord, “What happens after tonight?” 

You’ve caught him off guard; he’s not expecting the question, and it occurs to you he’s just as unsure as you are. 

He doesn’t know where to go from here either. 

“I dunno,” he murmurs. His arm shifts, and the hand that has his cigarette tucked between the fingers is now resting beside your own, “What do you want to happen after tonight?” 

I want everything to change. I want to laugh with you again. I want to see you when we’re out with our friends and for you to smile instead of scowl. 

You just shrug, and it makes your shoulders brush again, his leather crinkling against the movement, “Nothing has to change. We can… We can pretend it was all a bad dream, if you want. Although I’m definitely referring to your motorcycle as Toothless from now on.” 

“No one will believe you,” he scoffs, ignoring your comment on nothing changing. But the curl of his lips had faded instantaneously, a subtle change that would have been missed if you weren’t watching him so closely. But you were. You noticed. You’d probably never be able to not notice. Even when he returns to scowling, even when he’s returned to the bottom of his ocean and you’re left with legs too weak to continue kicking in an effort to keep you afloat, “But… yeah. Yeah, it can all just be a…. Dream.”

Dream. Not a bad dream, just a dream. 

“It’s weird that we don’t have to take a photo, right?” you’re quick to change the subject, to avoid deep diving into his implications. 

It should give him whiplash, but he seems completely unaffected as he waves a hand around the open air in front of you two, “Not really. But we could still take one, if you want, though. Just for us.” 

Just for us. A stolen moment and a blanket of security that this night existed, that it wasn’t just a shared fever dream and that it was all real. The Eddie you first met still exists six feet under, you two managed civility, and it was real. 

“We could,” you agree, a bit too eager for your liking, “I mean, it’s a pretty view. We shouldn’t waste it.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s mentioned he comes here often, that this is a space he finds himself running to, just like the bar. He bites his tongue just as he had when you’d stolen a cigarette for yourself. A cigarette now wasted, because you hadn’t taken another drag in far too many minutes.

The hand that rested beside yours so casually inches closer, pinkies beginning to overlap. “Exactly.” 

Your hand shakes the entire time as you reach into your pocket and produce the phone, as you hover the camera to perfectly capture your two hands and the cars that are so small in comparison on the streets below. Overlapping pinkies become hooked, twisted together, and you’re not sure if it was you or Eddie that took that final step. 

You leave the flash off as two cigarettes glow orange like a sunset, like the ending to a beginning you’ve been hurtling towards at full force with Eddie this entire night. 

It’s a nice photo. 

Eddie lowly whistles as he glances over at the screen and the barely blurry photo displayed, “That’s a good one. We’ve gotta put it in the scrapbook, for sure.” 

“The scrapbook?” you giggle, still memorizing every detail of the moment frozen in time, “What are we going to call it? ‘The Night Y/N and Eddie Didn’t Hate Each Other’?” 

“The name can be a work in progress. After all, the night is still young. Maybe murder is still on the table and it can get shown on our Dateline special.” 

You snort, and he grins. Your pinkies are still interlocked. 

“Imagine the name of that episode. Just Keith Morrison narrating our greatest hits,” you muse as the breeze picks up around the two of you. It’s nice, cool and relieving from the flames that have been building and creeping up your wrist. 

Both cigarettes are wasting away now; neither of you are willing to let go of the contact long enough to properly smoke them. 

It’s as if he’s noticing it, too, as he curls his hold even tighter, a subtle squeeze you return without thinking. It’s just a small touch, a miniscule connection between the two of you, but it feels bigger than anything before. It’s larger than the almost kiss, it’s larger than his apology, it’s larger than everything. That’s what it is – it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it’s everything to you. A rebuilding and rekindling of all the paths not taken.

Eddie pulls you from everything suddenly, not by pulling away his pinky, but by putting on his best Keith Morrison impression, “Two enemies, one apartment, an unfortunate series of city canals. Hatred is a fine line to dance, but just how far can one young woman go when a twenty-two year old man takes things too far. Tonight, on Dateline…” 

Your free hand shoves at his shoulders, and his pinky clings stiffly to yours to keep his balance, “Shut up! Why am I the one murdering you? I’m a helpless woman! If anyone’s getting murked, it’s me.” 

“Oh please, sweetheart, that’s exactly why you’d be the one to get away with it! No one suspects the sweet college girl who lives in the dorm down the hall to murder the big, bad wolf,” he cackles, returning to lean into your space tauntingly as he sets the scene, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t throw my ass into those canals if given the chance.” 

I wouldn’t. “I’m about ten seconds away from it.”

“Yeah?” 

No. “Yeah.” 

“Well, that’s hot.” 

You remember his whimpers from the bathroom suddenly, and bloom into color. Instead of answering his banter, you bite your lip and look harshly down at your conjoined hands. Pinky in pinky, cigarettes dying down together. The burning end has neared where your fingers clench on the filter, and you tell yourself that that’s the source of the heat coursing through your body. It has to be, because it certainly can be the effect of Eddie. Eddie, touching himself. Eddie, moaning. Eddie, definitely not stubbing his toe. 

Flames and oceans, you remind yourself, flames and oceans do not mix. Can not mix. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asks with certainty, the cadence in his voice fading into something of serious discussion. The playfulness is still there, just more subdued, “And can it… not cause some big fight between us this time?” 

Well, that can’t be good. “Go for it.” 

“I told you why I hate you, so… why do you hate me?”

You understand his request immediately; it’s a loaded question, no doubt. 

Why do I hate you? 

For the life of you, you can’t pinpoint an exact moment. And unlike Eddie, you’re willing to tell him the truth, you want to reward him with honesty. The time of avoidant answers has passed for you, and you want to bare your soul to him in a peculiar sense. 

“I- Okay, I don’t know exactly why,” you begin, considering finally disconnecting your pinky from his before deciding against it, “So I’ll talk you through it, but no interruptions, okay?” 

“Okay. I’d pinky swear, but, y’know,” he raises your hands into the air ever-so-slightly, acknowledging the position he’s put you two in for the first time in the entire conversation. 

You both laugh at the sentiment before you continue on. 

“I’d like to preface this with the fact I know you won’t tell me the truth about this, even the others can’t tell me the truth about it, so don’t think of this as me seeking out answers. I’m the one offering an explanation, not you. So…just…” you take a sharp breath in and catch his eyebrows shooting up into his bangs from the corner of your eyes. You can’t look at him head on, a lingering fear of showing this type of vulnerability with him being impossible to shake, “That first night we met. You were nice, right? You were nice, we got along, and then… Then I went to the bathroom. And I came back, and suddenly, you… you weren’t nice. You weren’t quite mean, not yet, but you certainly weren’t acting the same anymore. And I don’t know why you changed, I don’t care,” An absolute lie. You cared. You cared so assiduously, far more than you should, to know why, “But after that, you were just… cold, I guess? And it all built up. I thought it was a game at first, I gave up trying to be friends and decided whatever was happening between us might be normal. You’d give short answers, so I gave short answers. You’d insult me or make fun of me, so I’d insult you or make fun of you. It was just a game. Until you got mean.” 

A siren flashes by on the street below, and you can’t even make out the sound of his breathing. Now feels like a good time to pull away your pinky, to take a final drag of your cigarette, to leave behind his burning touch. The moment you try, he completely traps your finger between his pinky and ring finger. 

He’s not letting you go without a fight. 

You’re tired of fighting him. 

“I actually think it took me a while to really hate you back, y’know? I think I was still holding onto this... this childish hope that you didn’t mean to be cruel. Or that you were just jealous of me intruding on your friend group – you told me yourself that you guys go all the way back to high school. I was this invader, and I excused your cruelty for a really long time because of it, because I told myself I understood. But then… six months ago, I stopped understanding. I had to admit defeat and hate you because you didn’t give me much of a choice.” 

“Steve’s party.” 

He says it so quietly, you almost miss it. He sounds remorseful, he sounds sad, he sounds regretful, he sounds mournful. 

“Steve’s party,” you confirm just as quietly. Your pinky is slack against his as his grip finally loosens, “That night, everything you said… It finally felt personal. From the minute I got there, you were just… awful. You knew exactly where to hit me when I was down. And it took me shattering Steve’s poor glass to realize you really do hate me. You hate me, so I hate you.” 

It’s out there, the truth – your only reason for hating Eddie Munson was because he hated you. It was based on a worthless principle. Born out of necessity, you had forced yourself to hate the man who currently has your pinky wrapped around his, who had pledged his protection over you with the same mouth that had claimed he’d never miss you if you evaporated from his life. 

The hate would always be there. It wouldn’t wash away with his waves, and it wouldn’t turn to ash from your flames. You couldn’t get your hopes up that one night could fix it all. 

“I was a dick that night. I know I’ve already said sorry but… I’m sorry,” he finds his reply in the darkness, in a hushed tone. Quiet and ridden with shame. 

His pinky falls even more slack with yours as if he’s silently offering to let you go, as if the memory of what he’d done is enough to remind him you aren’t his to keep. But you’ve already given up the fight – your pinky stays with his. 

“You were a dick,” you agree, “But I know you’re sorry now, it’s just a matter of… accepting it. Letting it go. I’ve not exactly been innocent in this. Remember Chrissy Cunningham?” 

He laughs dryly, clearly recalling the blonde you’d caught him out on a date with.

“Jesus, fuck. Yeah, I remember Chris. I never did get a second date.” 

“Because of me,” you try to tease, doing as he would and leaning your bicep into his. 

He nods, “Because of you.” 

You’d been extra spiteful that night. It was before Steve’s party, even. The moment you’d seen them in that booth, Chrissy giggling far too much at each of what had to have been Eddie’s terrible jokes, watching her perfectly manicured hand settle on his shoulder, you had been out for blood.

You’d approached them, and made Chrissy believe Eddie was already your husband. You’d even switched one of the rings on your right hand to your left ring finger. An entire debacle had been made in that diner, and Eddie looked ready to murder you when Chrissy had left and murmured something about ‘calling him later’ as you continued to credit him for being an absolute cheater. 

She never did call. You must have really sold the entire lie with your crocodile tears. 

“I was a bitch that night,” you supply as you let your cigarette finally drop from between your fingers, hitting the concrete as it begins to sizzle out, “So… I’m sorry. And we’re even.” 

Eddie steals his cigarette into his other hand and takes a final drag before he properly puts it out, “Looking back now, it’s kind of fucking funny. Seriously. Did you know I knew her in high school?”

You don’t expect his lighthearted response, but you take it in full stride with a squeeze from your pinky, “What?”

“Yup. She never gave me the time of day back then. And after our date, I found out she’d been already trying to get back with her on-again, off-again boyfriend from back then,” he shrugs, turning to glance at you, “Guess I wasn’t the cheater.” 

“Jesus, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for her. Apologize for the fact you never even signed a prenup with me, or invited me to our wedding, wife.”

That makes you break. You both laugh so hard you have no choice but to relinquish your hold on each other, bringing your hands up to laugh freely into your palms. 

“I am so sorry, my dear husband,” you taunt, “Maybe I’ll remember to invite you to the renewal of our vows in five years time.”

“Five years?” he crinkles his nose, shaking his head harshly, nearly tearing his curls from his makeshift bun, “Fuck that. I never even got to say my vows the first time. You owe me a wedding, princess.” 

“You never bought me a ring.”

“You never bought me a ring.” 

“My bad,” you barely squeak out before you succumb to even more laughter. Eddie’s dimples shine as he joins you, looking to the ground as his shoulders shake. 

He sighs deeply once the two of you compose yourselves, turning and leaning his back onto the ledge, staring out at the empty parking lot, “Where should we have our honeymoon? I’m thinking the diner would consider hosting us, even after your fiasco.” 

“The diner?” you feign offense and mimic his position, “Fuck that,” you parrot his words right back, “You’re taking me to Paris, pretty boy.” 

It’s a deliberate choice; the nickname doesn’t slip carelessly this time. It’s said with a conviction that makes Eddie blush, that makes him look at you with dark eyes. 

“Pretty boy and sweetheart,” he mumbles, gaze flickering down your face, “We make quite the odd married couple. I don’t know how they’d feel about us in Europe.” 

“They’d certainly stop and stare at first glance,” you play along, still giggling quietly, “But I think then they’d see just how in love we obviously are and just….” you pause and let your eyes flutter shut for dramatic effect, not catching sight of the way he suddenly melts for you, “Swoon.” 

You don’t see it, but he’s looking at you like he’s about to kiss you again. 

“Here,” he suddenly says, fiddling with his fingers when you snap your eyes back open, “Allow me, Edward Munson, to vow myself to you…. Uh….” he pauses as he realizes he doesn’t know your full name, and so you jokingly lean in and whisper it to him as if you aren’t the only two up here. He repeats it back as if he’d always known it, and you’re both back to giggling, “In sickness or in health. In hatred or in murder. In…. bets and from this day forward.” 

He’s holding one of his rings, one decorated with a chunky skull, and motions for your hand. You offer it and allow him to slide the ring on with as much ease as he had slid the helmet onto you. 

It fits a bit big, but you both look down at it as if it’s the world’s greatest gift. 

“Wow,” you breathe out, your hand still cupped by his, “It’s certainly no diamond.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Allow me to just go to the twenty-four hour diamond shop and get something more to your taste, my beloved,” he goads, finally dropping your hand. 

The metal is warm on the inner ring from his skin, searing into you just as his touch does. 

“You sure know how to commit to a bit, Munson,” you murmur beneath your breath, lifting your hand to inspect the ring more closely. You’ve never paid much mind to his rings before, only ever knowing that they were there and they were a staple to his look. 

“That I do, wife,” he grins widely, boyish in his suddenly shy stance, “You’re already wearing my sweats and my shirt, why not add the ring? Complete the look?” 

“Complete the look,” you repeat and shake your head, shrugging, “Okay, fine. But just for tonight.”

Just for tonight, because after tonight, nothing changes. Your heart pangs at the thought but you don’t let your smile or joking demeanor fade with him. 

“Of course, of course,” he waves the hand that is now one ring lighter, “Just for tonight. Come morning light, everything goes back to normal. No one has to know you spent the night married to me, sweetheart.” 

“I mean, I’ve already moved in for the night,” you remark, looking up into his eyes, “We have moved quite quickly, haven’t we?” 

“We have. All that’s left is consummating the marriage, or whatever,” he shimmies a shoulder into you, turning to face the motorcycle, “Speaking of home, we should get going before any scary criminals show up and you have to beat them up for me.” 

Your cheeks are burning red, your hand is carrying his ring and flames, “Oh, I’m sorry. We are so not brushing right past the fact you know the word consummate.” 

It’s easy. Being with him is easy, on fire or not. It is easier to enjoy him and joke with him, fall into civility with him, than to force yourself to hate him. You don’t care if tonight changes nothing for him; it changes everything for you. 

“I’m brighter than I look, doll.” 

It is easy to burn for him. For tonight, and for the rest of your life, quite possibly. 

He picks the helmet up off of the seat and holds it out for you as you follow him,  immediately making you grumble in protest as you take it without a fight. 

You decide to take one last chance before the helmet separates the two of you again. One last way to tell him you don’t hate him, you don’t know if you ever hated him, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever hate him. 

“You know, I think we skipped a step,” you flip the helmet, not meeting his eyes this time, mustering all your bravery, “Usually, you have to kiss your bride, then consummate the marriage.” 

Quiet. He’s too quiet.

You’ve stunned him into silence, and you take it as a sign that you’ve gone too far. You’ve brought the almost kiss back up in the most indirect of ways, and you regret it immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” you immediately try to rectify, “I- that was dumb. Bad joke. I… I’ll leave the bits to you.” 

You don’t give him a chance to reply as you shove on the helmet, much less gracefully than he had put it on you, and wait for him to get on the bike.

No words are exchanged. You can’t see if he’s blushing through the tint of the visor. You convince yourself that he’s only tense as you climb onto the bike behind him because he’s uncomfortable now, because you’ve breached a limit you’d never even noticed.

Of course he wasn’t going to kiss you. Of course you shouldn’t have mentioned it, let alone joked about it. You’re an idiot. Even in civility, you’re an idiot. 

 He drives even faster to the apartment this time, which is dangerous considering you don’t grip him nearly as tightly. 

A game of fate you should have realized is dangerous to play. It is dangerous to burn for him, because he does not burn for you. This fire is one-sided and self-destructive, and although it is easy, you should have known better. The hating him is safer than the wanting him. The fury is safer than the yearning. The glasses shattered were safer than the moments shattered. 

You arrive back at the apartment. He parks the bike. You return the helmet to him. 

You walk up the stairs ahead of him. You don’t speak to him. You twist the ring he gave you. 

You keep your head down at the door. He rustles with his keys.

The burning is too easy. You should have known better.

But then, he says your name, keys still hanging from the lock of the door to apartment 2C. 

You look up at him, and wonder if he sees your embers, clear as day. You wonder if he’s about to tell you to collect your things and inform the others that the bet is off, that the two of you will scrounge together the money you owe them and forget the night ever happened. 

“Tonight changes nothing, right?” he questions once he has your full attention. You can only nod, ignoring the sharp pain of reality, “Nothing that happens tonight has to matter, right?”

You swallow hard. “Right.” 

He’s the one nodding now, seemingly lost in thought.

This is it. This is the part it all ends. 

“Great,” he finally concedes, voice raspy. You’re about to parrot back the sentiment when his hands are suddenly back in your hair, and his breath is back against your cheek, "Then fuck it."

This time, almosts don’t cut it. He kisses you, and he tastes like salt water as he meets your ash.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[barredandromeda]

imsoo normal about guys byw

[47-protons]

Not looking forward to tomorrow (< Schrodingers Horrors at work)

[rafeandonlyrafe]

demonstration

words: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, reader is toppers girlfriend, struggling to cum, female receiving oral and fingering, multiple orgasms, edging and overstimulation, protected and unprotected sex, cheating

“maybe you could ask one of your friends for help, top.” you pout, rubbing your hand over his shoulder, not wanting him feel any more upset than he needs to be, but at the same time, you’re not sure how much longer this can go on.

“you can't tell me what i can do to fix it?” topper asks.

“you know i was a virgin before you babe, i really don’t know.” you sigh, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “maybe ask rafe?” “rafe?” topper turns suddenly to look at you. “why him?” “i’ve just… heard talk from some of my friends. he can probably give you some good advice. i don’t know.” you shrug. “maybe it’s something wrong with me.” “no, don’t say that.” topper shakes his head, turning to pull you into him, a hand around your waist.

“you ask your friends and i’ll ask mine.” you give as an option. topper nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead, hoping the next time you’re in his bedroom, it’ll go a lot better.

--

“what?” rafe gawks at his friend, unsure if he heard him right or if he was going crazy.

“ive never… i’ve never made y/n cum before and i just… i need to know what to do rafe! i’m worried she’s gonna leave me if i can’t get it together and i guess- fuck! i don’t know! just help me out man!” topper paces quickly, bringing his hands to his hair, tugging on it, stressed out of his mind.

“okay, alright, jesus, just clam down!” rafe says, sitting down on the couch, gesturing for topper to sit as well. he’s not sure how long he can keep himself still, already feeling awkward and nervous about not being able to make you cum, only made worse by trying to talk to rafe about it.

“every time i fuck her, i just get so over excited and cum too quickly and i know this is tmi but i just try my best and every time she doesn’t cum and she says its okay but i know it’s really not.” topper blurts out.

“alright, well…” rafe sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. he’s never had this type of issue before with girls. “do you finger her? or eat her out? before you fuck her, i mean.” “i eat her out sometimes.” topper shrugs. “she says my tongue feels good and i can make her cum like that, but not when im fucking her, i just don’t know what to do, i just get so excited and… and i’ve never had this problem with girls before, it’s just y/n.”

“to be fair, she’s hotter than any girl you’ve been with before.” rafe comments. it’s no secret, so he doesn’t feel bad saying it, especially when topper nods.

“she’s way out of my league, thats why i’m sure if i don’t fix this she’s gonna leave me.” topper sighs.

“maybe a demonstration could help?” rafe suggests, making toppers head snap towards him, a look of fury in his eyes.

“you are not allowed to fuck my girlfriend.”

“no, man.” rafe shakes his head. “what if i’m there while you fuck her? then i can give you specifics, and she will know you are really trying. she told you to ask me right?” “yeah, i guess you have a reputation of being really good.” topper cringes at his own words.

“i am. so, let me help you, top. brother to brother.”

--

rafe understands why topper has such a hard time keeping it together as you lay out naked on the bed, eyes flickering between your boyfriend and his best friend, a cautiously optimistic look on your face.

“go ahead and spread your legs.” rafe says, trying to keep his tone even, to disguise the lust that he feels as his eyes move from your breasts down to between your thighs.

“can you get naked first topper? i feel weird here.” topper was shirtless, but still had his shorts and underwear on, even though he was obviously straining against the fabric. 

“yeah.” topper glances briefly to rafe before tugging them down his hips, letting his cock spring free. 

“so have you ever cum before y/n?” rafe asks.

“yeah, um… with my own fingers.” you cough awkwardly. “and when topper eats me out.”

“its really just when i’m inside of her.” topper says with a thick swallow as your thighs part, opening them wide to show off your pussy, already gleaming with wetness and a peachy pink color that makes rafe want to bend down and bury his tongue inside of your folds, but he has to behave himself, just happy to have this opportunity to see you like this.

“why don’t you finger her first? then you can show me. open her up a little, it’ll help.” rafe instructs.

topper nods, reaching down and pressing one finger against your hole. you tense up briefly before relaxing, allowing topper to push his finger in.

“is she tight?” rafe asks, without really meaning to, but he figures you must be from the way you are squeezed so tightly around his finger.

“yeah, that’s why i can never last.” topper says, thrusting his finger in and out, the slick sounds of his movement squelching throughout the room.

“does that feel good y/n?” rafe asks, eyes flickering up to your face.

“mhm.” you nod, but you don’t feel any urge to moan, needing more. “could add a second, top.” “okay.” topper nods, trying to work a second finger in, but you hiss at the stretch, primarily hurting around your entrance, despite your wetness.

“gotta rub her clit too.” rafe says, reaching over and pressing a fingertip to your clit, rubbing it. you gasp out, not just from the good feeling but from rafe touching you, like he swore to topper he wouldn’t do before he agreed to this.

toppers finger slips easily in once you’ve relaxed to having your clit rubbed. topper looks slightly annoyed, but he stays silent when he sees how much you’re liking it now, unable to hold back your moans. “oh, just like that.” you moan, eyes fluttering closed.

“see if you can add a third.” rafe says, flicking his finger over your clit before going back to rubbing.

“i’ve-i’ve never been able to take more than two.” you sit up slightly, surprised when topper presses a third finger and manages to begin thrusting it inside of you.

“aw, fuck.” you whine, trying to close your legs, but topper holds one thigh open with his hand while rafe grasps the other.

“keep ‘em open, cutie.” rafe says. “gonna cum?”

“yeah, yeah keep going-” you cut yourself off before you can yell rafes name instead of toppers.

“pull out, top.” rafe says, suddenly taking his hand away, making your back arch off the bed as you squirm, trying to chase their fingers, to get them back touching you.

“no, no, no.” you whine when topper also pulls out, leaving your hole clenching around nothing.

“sometimes if you’re struggling having her cum with your cock inside her, you can edge her first.” rafe says, switching easily back to teacher mode.

“should i fuck her now?” topper looks to rafe, before glancing to you, realizing he shouldn’t be asking permission to fuck his own girlfriend, but rafe has that type of energy, that commanding presence that easily makes him in control of any situation.

“yeah, put the condom on though.” rafe glances to the bed where topper threw a condom out of his pocket earlier. while topper slides it on, your focus on him, rafe takes a moment to reach to his crotch, squeezing his cock and begging himself to settle, to calm down.

topper lines himself up with your entrance, placing one hand on your hip as he lines himself up with his other hand, pushing inside of you slowly as you moan, eyes squeezing shut, obviously aroused and feeling good by him stretching you, so rafe is unsure what the issue is, until topper begins to move.

he’s thrusting too rapidly, overwhelming you. rafe shakes his head, “slowly, topper. deeper thrusts.”

topper manages to get control of himself, slowing down but still not thrusting deeper, and rafe realizes its because of the angle, topper not holding himself low enough to properly thrust.

“here.” rafe grabs a pillow, a different one from the one you’re laying your head on. rafe taps your hip and you lift them as he stuffs the pillow underneath. “try now.”

topper scooches closer, now able to thrust much easier, entering you at a far better angle as he takes you repeatedly, still going too erratically, too random.

“on a beat.” rafe says. “gotta fuck her steady, can’t just jackhammer.” “i-i-” topper groans out, pulling out, much to your disappointment as you let out a deep sigh. “i can’t, was about to cum.” “damn, baby, you must be real tight.” rafe glances to you, making you blush and close your legs slightly, which is hard as you are propped up, spread open on display.

“try again, top, it’s okay.” you soothe him, keeping your voice soft and steady.

topper nods, retaking his cock in his hand, pushing it back inside. you nod in encouragement as he moves, already going to shallow and too fast to properly build you up.

“gotta rub her clit too, man. remember she’s already close from getting edged.” rafe tries to instruct, but when topper places his thumb on your clit, his movements are jerky and too harsh, almost hurting as you cringe, but in your displeasure, your cunt clenches around toppers cock and he looses control, moaning as he cums, pumping into the condom.

“shit!” topper shouts out in pleasure, before he realizes you’re looking up at him with disappointment in your eyes. “shit.” he groans again, this time angry with himself as he pulls out in shame.

“it’s okay, top.” you sit up, moving the pillow as you reach out for your boyfriend, or at least attempt to, but he moves away, looking down in shame.

“you’re gonna break up with me now.” toppers voice is sad as he speaks.

“what?” it takes you back, not expecting it.

“you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you? because i can’t make you cum, you’re gonna leave me? god, i’m so pathetic.” “i can’t believe you think i’m that shallow.” you scoff as topper pulls the condom off and tosses it into rafes trashcan, who is simply glancing back and forth between the two of you. “that i would break up with you over sex?” “you wouldn’t?” topper questions.

“you would?” you question back, growing frustrated. “topper, i let you take my virginity, i can’t believe you thought i would do that just… just go.”

“no, baby, listen.” topper begins.

“i’m not breaking up with you yet.” you tell him. “but i need some space, please just go.” 

topper can’t hide the tears welling up in his eyes, and he doesn’t want to cry in front of you, and especially not rafe, so he pulls his clothes back on quickly and haphazardly before leaving, slamming the door shut behind him.

you sigh, burying your head in your hands. you wouldn’t break up with topper just because of sex, but his reaction to what happened makes you question everything.

“you okay baby?” rafe asks, making you jump, forgetting he was there.

“yeah, sorry, i can leave.” you move to get off the bed when rafe grabs your wrists, making you stop.

“or you could stay.” rafe says, his voice suggestive, as well as the look on his face.

“i-but topper…” “just finishing off what he started. come on, you came here for help anyways. lets see if you can cum when i fuck you.” “i-i guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.” --

rafe finally picks his head up from between your legs, cunt now bright red and covered in mess due to your three orgasms his tongue and fingers brought out of you, deciding to go for overstimulation instead of edging, now that he was the one getting to have you.

“still thinking about topper?” rafe asks, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine out.

“no.” you admit honestly, all of your thoughts have been replaced by rafe. “fuck me, please, rafe.”

rafe smirks, standing up and taking his shirt off, pleased that your eyes glaze over as you watch him undress, jaw dropping open when his cock is revealed, already hard and leaking.

“yeah, i know i’m bigger than him.” rafe smirks as he climbs onto the bed. “but i opened you up enough, didn’t i? or do i need to make you cum again?”

“n-no.” you shake your head, already so overstimulated. “i want your cock, i need it.” “he always fucks you in missionary?” rafe asks, wanting to make you cum in the same position that topper couldn’t, proving yet another way he’s superior.

“yeah, we haven’t tried anything else.” you say, leaving out the word yet not sure if you can go back to topper after this.

rafe nods, looking towards his drawer that he knows contains condoms, going to grab one before you speak up suddenly, “you-you can fuck me raw. if you want. i’m on birth control.” rafe can’t help but smirk, nodding as he grabs the same pillow again, placing it under your hips, bringing your tired legs up, thighs falling open.

“tell me if it hurts or if anything doesn’t feel good.” rafe says. he’s sure it’s toppers' inadequacies making you struggle, but just in case he wants to take good care of you.

“mkay.” you nod, hands fisting in the bed sheets as rafe rubs the head of his cock through your sticky folds, making sure to tap against your clit, just to tease you even further.

“gonna fuck you so much better than he ever could. ‘ts why you should be with me instead, baby.” rafe says, not letting you respond or even think too much about his statement as his cock pushes inside of you, making your back arch off the bed.

“oh my god!” you shout out, moaning wildly without care as rafe begins to thrust, deep and hard, hitting spots inside of you that topper has never touched before.

“oh, fuck.” rafe groans out. “you are tight, baby.” your cunt is squeezing him, molding to his walls. “no wonder he cums so quickly.” you shake your head, not wanting to think about topper, not wanting to feel any guilt or regret as rafes hips swing forward, cock pressing against your gummy walls as he moves a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in that same enticing way that made your high build so quickly last time.

“feels really good, rafey.” you moan, raising and lower your hips slightly in time with his thrusts, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you, feeling his hot skin against yours, the first person to take you bare.

“i knew there was nothing wrong with you.” rafe smirks. “already close to cumming, aren’t you?”

despite your body being tired from your three previous orgasms, you do feel another one building in your stomach.

“yeah, thats what i thought.” rafe moves faster, rubbing his thumb more intensely. “nothing wrong with you baby, you are perfect. perfect tight little cunt.” “please.” you whine out, unsure what you are begging for as tears slide down your cheeks, purely from being overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve never managed more than two orgasms in a night, and he’s close to doubling that.

“cum for me, doll. don’t have to beg. wanna feel that cunt squeezing around me.” rafe encourages you, pumping quickly as he pinches your clit between his thumb and finger before letting go and rubbing quickly, forcing the orgasm out of you as you scream, entire body tightening as your hips rise, high overtaking you as your eyes open to see rafe looking back at you, cocky look in his eye, but his jaw is slackened in pleasure as your cunt spasms around his dick.

“that’s it, good girl.” rafe affirms, thumb now gently touching around your clit, bringing you down slowly as his cock stays lodged deep inside of you.

you shiver as you lower your hips, breath slowly coming back to normal. 

rafe bends over your body, taking your lips in a kiss. you moan into his mouth, his tongue licking against your bottom lip before pushing into your mouth.

“you just came on my cock, pretty girl.” rafe says.

“i know, i loved it.” you hum, eyes sliding shut as rafe kisses your jaw, obsessed with the taste of your skin almost as much as your cunt.

“hmm, so two more? three?” rafe suddenly snaps his hips forward, making you realize he’s still buried inside of you.

“wait, wha-” your question is cut off as rafe straightens, resuming his same pace as if he didn’t just deliver you the most mind blowing orgasm.

“you think i’d be satisfied with getting you to cum just once?” rafe tsks and shakes his head. “we aren’t even close to done.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld

[norrizzandpia]

We’ve seen rabid lado’s girlfriend but what about rabid Lando about his girlfriend

Hi hello welcome back to the universe of feral!reader

Y/n’s Biggest Fangirl (Lando’s Biggest Fangirl Part 3) (LN4)

Summary: A look into the times when Lando was feral for his own girlfriend.

Warnings: suggestive comments, language, the drivers being scared and nervous for the sanity of lando and y/n, Alex says “kms” once and its very loosely used plz don’t do anything like that ever ty

Note: Here are the links to the other parts! Part 1 Part 2 also there is no face claim for this its just blonde, faceless women but you can imagine anyone <3

landonorris if i speak….

Comments:

y/nnn oh! so j to fill everyone in, i sent this to him (one of my friends took it on a girls night) he responded back with some very… um… not safe for work messages

- Mclarensgirly leak them.

- landonorris she leaks them and my entire career is ruined fr

- f1fan2024 y/n. leak. them.

- y/nnn guys. yall know how crazed i am but even i wont leak these texts.

- Mclarensgirly 😟

- f1fan2024 🤨📸

oscarpiastri you are aware this is your MAIN insta account right?

- landonorris yes.

mclaren calling the psych ward brb

—

landonorris who wants to guess where i wish my hand was

Comments:

oscarpiastri THIS IS YOUR MAIN FUCKING INSTA ACCOUNT

danielricciardo mate…

maxverstappen man wtf im just trying to enjoy my winter break

- f1fan34 MAX 😭

y/nnn lando i sent this picture to you out of kindness….

- landonorris and you think I’d do what with it??? Keep it in my camera roll??

y/b/f_username there’s something off balance in your brain but im happy you know how hot your girlfriend is 🔫

- landonorris SMOKIN. DROP DEAD. MOUTH WATERING. DELICIOUS. EXQUISITE. GODDESS. BEAUTIFUL. STUNNING. GORGEOUS. GOURMET.

- y/nnn why am i a meal

- landonorris cause i wanna eat you up

- alexalbon this interaction has made me want to rip my skin off #vomiting 🙁

—

landonorris mommy

Comments:

alexalbon #kms

- oscarpiastri #😟

- danielricciardo #maininstaaccount

- landonorris #mygfishot

y/nnn alr babe that’s enough screen time for you today

- landonorris no <3

mclaren can we live?

Mclarensgirly uh…..

- op81andln4 ok but like… i want him to call me mommy

- Mclarensgirly that’s weird (I’d kill for him to call me mommy)

- oscarpiastri see what you’ve done landonorris?

- landonorris I don’t see a problem.

- maxverstappen GET THIS MAN TO THE ER JESUS CHRIST

—

landonorris prettier than the Trevi Fountain 🫶🏻

Comments:

y/nnn i got the notification he posted, got terrified, then opened it and my heart warmed ☺️

- Mclarensgirly HER INSTA NOTIFS ARE ON FOR HIM 🤭

- landonorris so are mine for her tf

mclaren this works

- landonorris I’ll be back at it again soon dw

- oscarpiastri i will never get a chance to experience what true peace feels like.

F1fan2024 get you a man who will call you mommy and prettier than the trevi fountain on separate occasions in the span of a week

alexalbon i like this one!

- landonorris that’s my gf back off bitch.

- alexalbon damn.

y/nnn dw guys i just sent him another pic of me getting ready to go out with the girls

- landonorris BARK BARK

- danielricciardo #whereisthenearestbombshelter

- maxverstappen #itsover

- oscarpiastri #landomakesmescared

- landonorris #youwishyouwereme❤️

[eddiesghxst]

hello! here is something short about eddie being a dumbass <3

18+ — minors dni

————

like on some real shit, eddie is clumsy. and it’s embarrassing because the first time he has a pretty girl in his bed, looking at him with these brain melting fuck me eyes, he somehow ends up nearly giving her a fucking concussion.

it was really just a series of miscalculated movements. you’re on top of eddie, engrossed in a heavy make out that is sure to be leading somewhere further considering the way eddie’s pressing up against your core has you dizzy with lust. and eddie needs more, he needs to feel and touch and kiss and lick every inch of you. he needs to fuck you.

so he wraps one arm around your back to hug you closer before he shifts to flip you over. and it would’ve been a seamless process if eddie had been mindful of the hard ass fucking wall that serves as a headboard to his bed. long story short, the back of your head hits the wall…hard— hard enough for you to whimper out an ouch and have eddie pulling away with a gasp. he’s quickly scrambling to hold your head as he spews out apologies, “shit, shit, shit. fuck, are you okay? i’m so fucking sorry—“

he stops rambling when you press a hand to his chest, your other hand still holding the back of your now aching head. you stare at him for a moment and he just knows he’s fucked it all up because there’s no way you still like him after he’d nearly just sent your head through a literal wall.

but then you laugh. you fucking laugh, and eddie is looking at you like he’s seen a god damn ghost. “you’re laughing… why are you laughing?” he asks with a nervous laughter. and it only makes you laugh harder.

“i’m okay, eddie, i promise,” you manage to say between laughter. “but jesus christ, man. when i said i like it rough i didn’t mean toss me through a god damn wall—“ and now eddie is laughing and peppering fluttery kisses all over your face as you giggle.

he kisses you one last time before he pulls away and narrows his eyes at you, “y’sure you’re okay? i didn’t rattle anything in there too bad did i? how many fingers am i holding up?” he holds up two fingers in front of your face and you hum as you pretend to think. “um…three?” eddie’s face falls, “wait are you serious?”

you can’t hide the smile that creeps onto your face and has eddie deflating in relief before saying, “you’re sick, you know that?” and you snort before pain shoots through your head that has you wincing between laughter, a hand shooting up to hold your head, “don’t make me laugh too hard, asshole, it still hurts.” eddie winces and makes a face, “yeahh, i definitely rattled some shit in there.”

[worldlxvlys]

the way i loved you

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: cursing

a/n: hope you likeee <333

i watched as nick pulled an array of snacks from a plastic bag, setting them on the table.

today nick, matt, chris, and i were going to be filming a video where we rate snacks from around the world.

once nick set the camera up, he did the intro and explained what we would be doing.

while nick explained where he got the food, i watched Chris pick up a small pink tin, inspecting it.

i slowly began to tune out nick’s voice, focusing on the way chris’s fingers ran across the tin.

he carefully placed the tin down, drumming his fingers along the table.

god, his fingers are so long. they’re perfect-

no! stop! you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend’s fingers like that !

i quickly look away from his fingers, realizing i was staring.

luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.

as nick continued to explain the concept of the video, i watched as chris began to smile.

i love how excited he is, he’s adorable.

as i smiled at his eagerness, he happened to look at me, catching my gaze as we smiled at each other.

once nick finished explaining, we decided to try the sour candy in the pink tin first.

i watched as chris attempted to take the plastic wrapping around the tin off, but was unsuccessful.

he fumbled with the plastic, and it seemed like he couldn’t keep his hands still. he almost seemed, nervous ?

he turned to me with a bashful smile on his face, “can you open it, please?”

“yeah, i got you” i said as i grabbed it from his hands, removing the plastic wrapping and handing it back to him.

“this one has vitamin c, which one’s that?” he looked at me, expectantly.

“why would i know ?” i asked, furrowing my brows.

“i don’t know, you’re the smart one” he mumbled.

“shut up” i laughed as i shook my head , “you’re smart too” .

we all tried one, and agreed that they weren’t actually sour, despite the tin having the word sour across it in big letters.

“doesn’t it feel like you have to put a lot of effort into getting that grape flavor ?” nick pointed out.

he scrunched his face up, making us all laugh, as chris put his hand on my shoulder, leaning onto me as he laughed.

i love hearing him laugh.

we gave it a rating, and moved onto the next candy.

once we realized they were slide whistles, we all started busting out laughing.

we all started fooling around, laughing at each other’s shenanigans.

chris wrapped his arms around my waist, laughing into my shoulder. the sound of his laugh, made me laugh even harder.

as we continued to try and rank the snacks, chris grew more and more touchy.

not that i’m complaining.

there were many times where i would catch him staring at me and vice versa. he made it so easy to enjoy his presence.

once we finished our last snack and agreed on the final ranking of everything, nick closed out the video and turned off the camera.

i turned to chris. “that was fun” i said trying to fight the shit-eating grin that was forming on my face.

“i agree” he said, returning the smile.

“jesus christ” matt spoke up from behind us, rolling his eyes and walking away.

“what ?” we called out.

A FEW DAYS LATER

nick, chris, and i were hanging out in the living room.

i was scrolling on tik tok, occasionally showing them videos that i found funny.

as i continued to scroll, i came across one video in particular that made my heart begin to race.

the lyrics of The Way I Loved You by Taylor Swift filled the room.

what the actual fuck.

and he says, you look beautiful tonight. and i feel perfectly fine. but i miss…

clips of chris and i staring at each other fill the screen.

screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain and it’s 2 am and i’m cursing your name

chris holding onto my waist, hugging me, leaning on me

so in love that you act insane, and that’s the way i loved you

us laughing together, looks of pure joy on our faces.

i glance to my right, seeing chris already staring down at my phone.

fuck. what do i do ? what do i say ?

suddenly, nick yells “oh my god is that the ship edit of you and chris ? that shit’s blowing up !” he said.

“damn, nick. how’d you know ?”

“i reposted it”

“WHAT?” chris and i stared at him like he had five heads.

“well, it was good. and c’mon, doesn’t take a genius to realize y’all like each other” he said, nonchalantly.

“i’m going to the bathroom” he said, walking off.

i’m literally losing my mind. a ship edit ? a TAYLOR ship edit ? we’re never beating the dating allegations.

“well, what do the comments say?” chris asked, his voice shaking the slightest bit.

i glanced over at him, before opening the comments.

sturniolowhore

awww they’re adorable

blueeyedbesson

they’d look so good tg

abbie13sworld

they’re literally in love no one can convince me otherwise

mommysturns

i literally love them tg 💗

babydollfae22

they need to stop playing and get tg

mbbsgf

them + taylor makes me so happy

“damn. they kinda love us together” i said. i scrolled, expecting to move onto something else.

suddenly, Tattoo by Loreen came on. this edit had clips of chris and i from the recent video and over the years.

it’s like we’re watching a progression of our relationship over the past few years.

every wandering eye, stolen glance, smile that was a little too wide, touch, hug that lasted a little too long, the fans always noticed them.

it was literally right in front of our faces the entire time.

listening to the sound of violins swelling while watching chris and i’s interactions almost made me want to cry.

i turned to chris, who was already staring at me.

he looked down at my lips. “what do the comments say?” he asked.

i turned back to my phone, opening them up.

sophssturn

they’re literally perfect for each other

xhiejfy

how adorableeee

bernardenjoyer

they’re cute ig but me and jimmy would be cuter

queen161718

literally just watched them fall in love with each other

vib3swithanuk

they’re good for each other

fr3sh-love

so so happy for them

“they think that we’d be good together” i told him.

“i think i agree with them” he whispered.

“then maybe you should ask me out” i said, my gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips.

our noses touched. “will you go out with me ?”

i smiled, “hell yeah” i whispered before pushing my lips onto his.

—————-

y’all see any familiar names ? 🤨

i love y’all <333

masterlist

tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @mommysturns @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna

[2knightt]

Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)

↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧

➬ the gang x model!fem!reader

a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.

Johnny Cade ;

believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.

STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.

probably thinks you’re too good for him.

PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.

take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.

if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.

“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”

“you look perfect.”

“you think?”

“…mhm.”

the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.

“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“WOAHHH!”

“jesus…does she have a sister?”

“guys please stop.”

cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.

not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.

Dallas Winston ;

oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.

“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”

“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”

buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.

any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.

“i’d hit that.”

“yeah?”

“yea—”

dead./j

no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.

the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.

“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”

“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”

“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

you’re legit, all he thinks about.

he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.

genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he gets so nervous around you omfg.

his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.

“he-hey y/n.”

“oh, hey pony!”

uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.

he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw

draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.

IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&

he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much

the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.

“hey, don’t you model?”

“yeah!”

“what.”

“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”

“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”

Sodapop Curtis ;

POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.

you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.

literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.

the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.

he probably got into modeling because of you.

OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???

he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.

like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.

“she’s hot.”

“she has a boyfriend.”

“so?”

call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!

showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.

“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”

“why not?”

“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”

Darry Curtis ;

honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.

if it brings in money, it brings in money.

but the gang sure as hell does!

“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”

“THE MODEL?”

“yeah? how do you guys know her?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”

“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”

“WHAT??”

i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.

he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.

“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”

when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.

compliments you after he seen it.

“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”

“you think, darry?”

Steve Randle ;

rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.

DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.

“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”

“nobody cares steve.”

“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”

STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.

takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.

sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.

gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.

“you can do so much better, y/n.”

“dallas, shut the fuck up.”

“i’m just sayin’.”

“i will knock you out.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.

you have him giggling n shit.

his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.

not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.

tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.

“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”

would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.

introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.

“how??”

“what do you mean, ‘how?’”

“how did you pull her?”

“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”

“you’re so funny, two-bit.”

“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”

may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.

tag-list ;

@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️

[manticore-fangs]

Price catching us watching porn (I’m sorry but I genuinely had to ask😭)

a/n: i remember reading something awhile back with joel miller (show) x reader and getting caught watching porn, this just fuelled it 🫣

cw: dildo used, porn, masturbation, john helps you with that, not proofread, more may be added. pls lmk if i missed any.

-

ughh! i can imagine him being dads best friend and just finding you in your room, staying at your parents since they lived closer to your college. price staying there for the time-being because his job is rough and he isn’t at his house often, why move in since his best friends daughter moved out? until she moved back in due to some issues.

it was late, 12 am at most. leaving you and your phone alone, lube and a dildo shoved up your cunt. watching the man in the video pound the woman into the wooden ground. leaving you wanting to getting fucked like that, rough and fast. you wished deeply that you were the woman, just plunging it in and out with an unsteady but relentless pace.

it’s leaving you in shambles, the dildo hits the right spot but your not close too cumming at all! makes you so frustrated and pissed off, cant believe why you won’t come. until you hear a rough “uh hum.” at the front of your door. you looked over and moved at the same time, panicking and trying to explain what you were doing, thinking it was your mother or father.

but you seen john price, the man you were crushing on since you hit eighteen. you never seen anything in him until you realized men yoru age weren’t the same and treated you like cow shit. “oh jesus christ- john, fuck- i can explain.” you try to say, nervous and trying to swallow the upcoming slit in your mouth.

“is’ fine love, every man and women pleasure theirselves. nothing i haven’t seen from women.” you blushed, furiously. you didn’t expect john price, the man you crushed on, seen you fucking yourself to some video.. which is still on as you heard a loud moan from your screen and cringe, grabbing it and turning it off.

you covered yourself, giving him and you some decency. but at the same time you really wanted him to help you, but the other thought that was chewing on your brain didn’t wanna speak up. the small anxiety at the bottom of your stomach stopping you from doing it.

john was going to ask you something, but watching you put on a dazzling show for him set him off, the next thing he says doesn’t register in his mind. “i can help ya’ with that.” it sounds more like an order, demand maybe then a question. but you look up and blink twice before speaking up after a short time of silence.

“wh- what? you wanna help.. me?” and he nods, he won’t take it back now but he will always let you stop whenever the time, and no matter what. “just letting you know lovely that you do not have to be pressured to say yes. you, can say no and i can leave. when you say red, i can stop when we have sex. up to you.”

and you think, but you bite your lip gently, grabbing the blankets and moving it away from your body, showing your pussy on display for him, the dildo stick sucked inside your cunt, not letting go as you were so close to your impending orgasm. “fuck.” he moans, getting closer to you as he looks at your pussy.

“can i?” he asks and you nod, letting him inch closer and closer before he lays his calloused and rough finger tips onto your lips and spreading them. watching your arousal and sticky goo from the lube and your cunt. he grabs the base of the dildo and pushes it in, making your head throw back with a moan.

he gets a steady pace, one hand opening your lips and one at the base of the dildo and thrusting in. “want me to go faster? i know you were so close love, i’ll make it up to you.” and you nod, really trying to stay composed enough to speak but the pace of that dildo inside it makes everything go away. he angles it correctly and just pushes it deep against your back wall, feeling a sensation start to form but you cannot gather anything besides moans.

“john - oh fuck john- please wait - ohm-“ you can’t speak for the life of you and your eyes keep flittering shut. throwing your head back and forth, trying to stop your squirming but you can’t from the pleasure you feel, the dildo going faster as you hear sticky squelches. john just chuckles at you, looking at your desperate state and just thinking of how you’d break apart on his dick.. but that’ll be saved for another time. right now he just wants to stretch you out on that dildo that you were trying to fuck yourself on.

“deeper john - need you to go deeper please -“ you sob out, tears in your waterline. john let’s put short ‘okays’ and fucks the base into you, moving deeper then before and stimulating that spot more and more. leaving you breathless with want and need, you just need johns dick so bad. “i know you need my dick lovely but that’ll be for another time, just need’ta get you perfectly stretched for my dick.” shit. you must’ve said that out loud.

he fucks the dildo faster, not relenting his pace even though his arms are getting slightly sore at the rapid movement. “john! johnjohnjohnjohn - fuck ‘m gon-‘ i’m cuhm- i’m cumming!” you start to shiver and squirm from the overstimulation which john slowly slowed down his pace. leaving you breathless and weeping.

you groan and whimper. orgasm drawn out, leaving you in a sub space. “i’ll take care of you lovie, let me take care of you. promise i’ll be good for ya’” you don’t remember much when john picked you up. succumbing to the rest that was consuming you.

[penny00dreadful]

Before He Cheats

AO3

“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.

“Is that really how you answer the phone?”

Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”

“Suppose.”

“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”

“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”

“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”

The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 

Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.

“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”

“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”

“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”

“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”

“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”

Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”

“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”

Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”

There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 

“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”

“How long?”

Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 

They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 

Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 

They’d never really felt all that funny.

Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 

They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 

More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.

Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 

But that was no excuse to cheat. 

At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 

“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”

“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 

If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.

Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.

Didn’t make him any less pissed.

“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”

“Yes.”

There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 

But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.

“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”

Eddie pursed his lips. 

“Please hold.”

He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 

Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 

He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 

“Still there?”

“Yes. Ow, by the way.”

Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 

“Send it on.”

Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.

Well. 

Shit. 

There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 

Ugh.

Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 

@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair

Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.

It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.

God damn.

But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 

“Steve, is it?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.

Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.

“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”

“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”

Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.

Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 

That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.

He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 

He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 

He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 

It felt wrong.

Even though he was pretty much single now.

Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 

But fuck him. 

He’d find out.

One way or the other.

And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.

But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.

No tonight he would just… hurt.

And smoke.

A lot.

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”

Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 

The screen had gone black.

“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”

Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”

“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”

Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”

“Oh-”

“How do you feel about a video call?”

A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.

“A video call is fine.”

“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 

He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 

He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 

Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.

Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 

He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.

Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.

He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 

Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.

He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 

He looked so soft. 

Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.

“Eddie?”

“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.

“You okay?”

He shrugged. “I will be.”

“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”

Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.

“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”

“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”

“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”

“Suppose not.”

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”

Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.

“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”

“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 

Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 

“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.

“I am, I guess.”

Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 

That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.

“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”

“So we can both be sad and angry together.”

“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.

“We can be sad and angry together.”

Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.

“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”

Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“No.”

It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.

Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 

“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.

Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”

“Okay?”

“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”

“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”

Eddie nodded. 

That he could understand. 

“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”

“Woulda hurt me plenty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”

“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”

“Just his decisions are bad.”

“Exactly.”

“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”

“To us, Stevie. To us.”

“Right, so what’s the plan then?”

“When are you due to see him next?”

Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.

But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 

He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.

Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.

Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.

They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.

They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.

It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.

After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.

Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.

He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 

She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 

She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 

Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.

Again, adorable.

Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 

The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.

Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.

He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 

Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.

He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.

He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 

They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.

Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 

Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.

Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.

Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 

He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.

When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.

Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.

With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.

At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.

Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 

Rick knew fuck all about cars. 

Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.

Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.

A second Shania song had started up. 

He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 

He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 

He’d failed miserably. 

Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.

With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.

Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”

Okay, only a few seconds left.

Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.

The bat was fucking stuck.

Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.

“What the fuck?!”

Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.

To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 

But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 

Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.

“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.

“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”

“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.

Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 

Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.

With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 

They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.

He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”

As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.

When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.

Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.

AO3

@geekymagicalpotato

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.

[steddiealltheway]

Eddie finds himself up on a table in the school cafeteria, shouting at the dumb jocks and trying to live up to his reputation as The Freak of Hawkins High School. It’s not too hard to seal his fate, and with it comes some fear from other students who wouldn’t dare mess with him. Plus, the populars know he’s their weed supply, so they can’t say too much.

Honestly, it’s a bit fun. Getting on a table. Lecturing some people about shit that goes right over their head. It all kind of gives him a rush. And he loves when his friends egg him on.

Which is why when Gareth and Jeff start yelling his name, Eddie only speaks louder as he steps backward on the table, trying to get all his friends and the rest of the cafeteria in his view. He lives off of the praise. The way they shout his name in an encouraging tone-

Wait. Why do they sound nervous, and why are they reaching for him?

Before Eddie can process what his friends are trying to say WATCH OUT YOU ARE STEPPING OFF THE EDGE OF THE TABLE. Eddie is already falling.

Maybe he’ll actually graduate this year and he’ll be able to blame a concussion for his bad grades.

Only, he doesn’t hit the floor.

Surprisingly, he actually feels really supported and warm and…

Eddie opens his eyes and finds Steve Harrington staring down at him. And not only that, his arms are wrapped around him and holy shit-

“Am I in heaven?” Eddie asks.

Steve smiles and replies, “I’m pretty sure you’re still in hell.”

Then, Eddie is being let out of Steve grip and his feet are touching the ground. So… not in heaven. Steve just caught him. Jesus H. Christ.

“Uh, right. Joking. Um. Thanks… Steve,” Eddie stutters out, and since when does he stutter? Fuck.

Steve just smiles at him further and… why is he looking at Eddie’s lips? What the hell is happening?

“Maybe be more careful next time,” Steve says and winks at him.

Eddie just nods, and Steve walks off.

Eddie sits down in his seat, pressing his cold hands to his hot cheeks.

“Dude, what the fuck just happened?”

“Did you just get hit on by Steve The Hair Harrington?”

“And did you get flustered when that happened?!”

“Shut up!” Eddie yells and covers his face with his hands. He glances over to where Steve sits down across from his ex, Princess Nancy Wheeler, and her new boyfriend, Creepy Jonathan Byers. But then Steve catches his eye and winks again.

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters under his breath. “One more year, just one more year,” he says to himself trying as hard as he can not to look at Steve again.

It’s going to be a long year.

[kissitbttr]

ANA! ANA MY LUV!! idk much about miguel (a travesty i knoeww) but i saw ur fratboy post n now i cant stop drooling at the idea of fratboy!miguel introducing u to his frat buddies!! being so possessive: holding ur waist or pulling u to his lap; kissing ur neck even when his friends are right there. oh my goddd im gonna sob hes so!!!

SUNNY?! I AM BITING MY FIST OMG HE’D SOOO FREAKING POSSESSIVE UGH I LOVE IT WHEN YOU ARE RIGHT

bby you HAVE to hop on the miguel simp train!! HE IS SO FINEEEE😩😩

-

it was around after the third date when miguel nervously asked you to come to the frat house to meet his brothers. he didn’t want to overwhelm you of course, he knew how annoying and pushy his brothers could be but still, he would love for them to get to know you just as he had when he was with you,

you saw how nervous he got, but you assured him by squeezing his hand and telling him that you were okay with that. he smiled in return, kissing you softly on the lips as a thank you,

“i never express any gratitude towards anyone in my life except my parents but i want to thank you so much for finally saying yes, it was fucking annoying to hear him yapping about you non-stop. all of us had enough of his corny shit”

one of his frat brothers, glen had mentioned. feigning a relief expression while he smirked at miguel who gave him the finger,

“i literally thanked Jesus when i heard him going on a date with you, y/n! you are our life savior”

miguel threw his head back in annoyance, groaning at how his frat brothers continued to spill his secrets. but you giggled instead, looking over at him who avoided your gaze out of pure embarrassment.

“what else did he do?”

miguel shot you a warning look, “don’t encourage them, muñeca! they’d go all the way out!”

“oh believe me, we have many” beck had answered, playfully snickering at the amount of times miguel had ranted about you. “which one do you want to hear? one where he talked about you while he was high? or one where it was late at night—“

“fuck off, kingsley!” miguel had interrupted before he got too far, in which beck put his hands up in defense.

miguel snaked his arm around your waist, giving your hip three taps to prompt you to sit on his lap which you obliged.

you happily plopped yourself down on one of his thick thighs. he helped you with shifting your body into a comfortable position with your legs crossed.

the rest of the boys sat in the living room, piling in the same area as they all stared at the two of you. millions of questions running through their minds, desperate to know if miguel somehow blackmailed you into agreeing to go out on a date with him or something worse,

miguel sensed the stares from his brothers and, to be frank, it was quite uncomfortable. though he knew for sure they wanted to know the same thing.

“are you guys wondering how i got to take her out or what?”

they all responded with a ‘yes’ in unison, making him rub his temple and you smiled

“so? what did he do, y/n? because i’m starting to think this is a joke”

“could be. i mean, carlos went all 110% for a girl when she rejected his offer the first time” glen shrugged, earning a frown from carlos himself,

“i did not—“

“yes you did. you stood outside of the campus library with a boombox over your head” one boy chimed in while sipping his beer,

“okay see, i was—“

“oh! and remember when he threatened to pull his—“

“shut the fuck up! focus! we’re not here for me but for them!” carlos gestured his hand at both miguel and you. “can we leave my shit behind? that would be great”

carlos's cheeks went beet red as the other guys teased him for it, beck patted him on the back and told him that it was nothing to be ashamed of but carlos only swatted his hand away,

you found it so endearing at how the frat guys were so playful and funny with each other. typical boys will be boys type of thing. they were definitely far more different than when you see them during parties,

“well to be honest, he really didn’t have to do anything” you simply replied, tucking a hair behind your ear. “but definitely persistent, in the most politest way and less creepier though”

“you saying what i did was creepy?” carlos pointed at himself with a defeated look,

“i mean, if you had to ask then yeah”

the rest erupted in a peal of loud laughter while carlos’s shoulders slouched. propping his back against the chair with his arms crossed, a chorus of ‘see?’ and ‘i told you so’s’ made you laugh,

miguel settled his elbow on the armrest, eyes glinted with adoration whilst his mouth stretched into a lovesick grin. he watched how you managed to pull joy out of them and there’s nothing he’s appreciated more than that,

the way you threw your head back as another cute giggle escaped you while holding onto his shoulder for balance was enough to make his heart ponder,

“man, you’ve got wicked sense of humor, y/n—say if shit went sideways between the two of you, just know I’m available”

miguel frowned upon hearing that as his nose scrunched up in disgust as he leapt the nearest pillow at his brother’s direction for that comment. he wrapped his arm around your waist far more protectively,

“watch it” he warned, glaring at him. he knew it was a joke but he still didn’t like how that sounded, “i’ll kick your fucking ass, monty”

upon seeing that, your hand moved to find his cheek, lightly tapping his chin with your finger to get him to look at you,

“easy there, big boy” your words soothed him in seconds, especially when he heard his favorite nickname leaving your mouth, "I'm with you"

the confirmation made him giddy and his heart blossomed,

he moved dangerously close to your ear to whisper before kissing the back of it making you giggle. “you look so pretty tonight, muñeca” miguel dragged his fingertips up and down your exposed thigh, then squeezed the soft flesh. “so so pretty— do i get to see you in this dress more often?”

the question came off too excited despite his best trying to hide it, again, if there was nobody around, he'd actually take you right there and then.

you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “but I thought you like me better when i’m naked?”

“oh there’s no doubt about that, mi amor” he winked with a chuckle, “am i… about to get lucky tonight?”

“you might” a seductive response laced on your tone, winking at him as he squeezed your waist before

the boys let out a couple of groans and fake puking sounds at the sight, but the two of you remained still in your element,

''you guys make me sick" glen protested, shaking his head before getting up from the chair to walk away but you caught a small smile on his face,

"jealous you don't have a girlfriend, mayback?" miguel teased at him, glen only threw him the middle finger before cracking another can of beer from the kitchen,

the rest of the boys followed his actions after, not before congratulating miguel on scoring with you.

the word girlfriend made you bulldozed, eyes darted toward his smiling proud face before yours stretched into one as well,

"i'm your girlfriend?"

his smile faltered after he soon realized what he had just called you, he swallowed a nervous gulp. opening and closing his mouth because he was unsure what to say

you must admit you enjoyed seeing him like that.

"well i-i mean--i wasn't--surely you were--uh--what was the question again?"

you tucked your lower lip in between your teeth, head tilting to the side as the adorable man in front of you became a stuttering mess.

realizing that he is on the edge of a nervous breakdown, you leaned closer to his face before smashing your lips against his. his body went still by your action, but soon found himself lost in your kiss and sighed out of contentment,

you pulled away after a few seconds, tousling his soft chocolate hair before replying,

''i would love to be your girl, o'hara''

-

please please PLEASE tell me this is good!! i was writing this in the car and I couldn’t concentrate for a second because people were honking too much!! bhhshshs

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

TOW they're both clueless

Steve struck out again, and he's not sure where he went wrong. He was leaning against Eddie's kitchen counter, frowning.

"Oh, man, did you tell her about the six kids thing?" Eddie asked from where he was sitting on the counter.

"Yeah, I mean, I told her I wanted to adopt and that I would happily be a stay at home dad," Steve said.

"Maybe they think it's a line. It's probably hard to believe that a guy actually wants to do that. I mean, I would happily do it too," Eddie said.

"I don't think she liked the hand grazing the thigh thing," Steve pouted.

"What? She's crazy. I loved it when you showed it to me," Eddie said. "Maybe you got nervous and did it wrong that time? Show it to me again, big boy."

Steve sighed and stepped in between his open legs. He took his hand and ran it gently up Eddie's thigh. Eddie sighed and bit his lip.

"Well?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she's crazy. That was good. If I was a girl, I'd totally be into it," he replied. "Maybe you're a terrible kisser."

"What? No! Every girl I've ever kissed always told me that I was a really good kisser," he said defensively.

"Maybe it's because they think you're so handsome that they just don't have the heart to tell you that you're bad," Eddie said.

"Well, then how the hell am I supposed to find out?" Steve asked.

"Kiss a friend who you know is going to tell you the truth," Eddie said.

"I don't think Robin is going to want to help me with that, and I'm not sure I'd want her to," Steve said, scrunching up his nose.

"Kiss me, man, like you did with the hand on my thigh," Eddie said. "I'll be brutally honest."

Steve nodded and moved closer to him. Steve cupped his cheek and pressed his lips softly to Eddie's. It was gentle at first until he slowly sped it up, moving his lips against Eddie's as Eddie started to do the same thing. It was weird. He didn't need to imagine Eddie as a girl. All he was thinking about was Eddie and his tongue slipping into his own mouth. Eddie deepened the kiss for a moment before breaking away, breathing heavily.

"Okay, yeah, no. That was fucking good. If I were a girl. . .," Eddie said.

"Yeah, right, if you were a girl," Steve said, blushing.

They stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything.

"What are you like when you fuck?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie!"

"What? You have to know, right?"

Several sweaty naked moments later. . .

"Okay, so it's not that," Eddie said as he stared at his ceiling. "If I was a girl. . ."

"Do not! We just had sex, Eddie!" Steve exclaimed.

"Right!" Eddie blushed.

Steve sighed and rolled out of bed. He pulled on his boxers and one of Eddie's shirts.

"After I sleep with someone, I usually make us some food like breakfast, lunch, or dinner. It's dinner time, what do you want?" Steve asked.

"Jesus, how are these girls still rejecting you?" Eddie asked, rolling out of bed and pulling on his own boxers. "You're the perfect man!"

"I don't know, maybe it's because I talk too much about the kids or about Robin or. . . Oh," Steve said softly.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"It's because I talk too much about you," Steve said.

Eddie stared at him for him for a moment before laughing. He hopped over to Steve and pulled him in for a seering kiss.

"We're both idiots," Eddie said.

"Yeah," Steve agreed with a crooked smile.

"You should know, though, that we both can't be stay at home dads. Someone is going to have to work," Eddie said.

Steve laughed and kissed him so hard they fell back onto the bed.

"You owe me a date, Harrington."

[lollytea]

Please, your finale Huntlow thoughts, my liege. We poor peasants beg of you, our bowls are empty and your tables full; if we might have but a crumb of your succulent meal to fill our bellies in these cold December nights.

ASGCDHBDJNK JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OKAY

I got a few asks about this but I guess I'll answer this one cuz it's phrased the funniest. I just wasn't too pressed about giving my Thoughts about finale Huntlow because I am fully a part of the Huntlow hivemind. Like I feel the way everyone else feels. I'm ecstatic, I'm delighted, I'm overwhelmed, I'm emotional, I'm so happy for them, I got everything I could have wanted. I won. We won.

(I HAVE TOO MANY PICS. I'LL RB WITH PART 2)

First of all this scene is so special to me, you have no idea.

It isn't inherently romantic but it's still so sweet and shows how much these two care for each other. Here's Willow, who's spent the last special Atlasing and repressing and refusing to rely on anyone else. But then she had her breakdown in front of Hunter and he realized just how stressed and scared she's been this whole time. She's visibly anxious and upset here, likely worrying up a storm because she hasn't found her Dads yet. And Hunter is right here beside her. He's seen her meltdown, he's felt her pain, he's heard her cry. He knows that Willow is in a fragile state at the moment. He knows she's been holding in a lot. He knows she's scared. I love that he's not only standing by her side and helping her search, but holding her too. It could be that she vocally expressed how worried she was to him, or maybe he just saw it on her face, but he probably placed that hand on her back to comfort her, let her knows he's right here, grounding her. And Willow, who's still learning how to depend on others, is letting him.

The way Hunter lights up when he sees Harvey and Gilbert, thrilled by how happy he knows she's going to be and his soft smile when he points them out to her. And then THIS!

Like Hunter is devastated. He feels alone and out of place here. He really thinks he has nobody. But Willow being happy can still bring a smile to his face. He just loves her so much!!!

And I know I already talked about the grom photo but UGHH!!!

I got a pic in better definition. I'm pretty sure this is Hunter's first grom. So likely a few months after the events of WAD. And it's so cute to think about Hunter and Willow very awkwardly but eagerly navigating a romantic relationship. I love how grabby and flirty Willow looks here, messing with his bowtie. She clearly LOVES the floral suit, thinking he's like the hottest man alive. She needs to smooch him and NOW. Or she's just like "Oh my, what a nice collarbone you have!!" Idk the ambiguity of what exactly Willow is doing here but the vibe and general intentions being very obvious is my favourite part of this pic. You can speculate for years on this. Oh and Hunter's face, I love it so much. His dumb little blush is like an old friend. He's fucking THRILLED that he's getting so much attention from her. He's very excited about where this is going. But he's also like. So nervous he's gonna pass out. But overall he's having the time of his life. Bi rights!

Also epilogue Huntlow....guys....guys epilogue Huntlow....are you guys still listening to me at this point?

God I love this scene. Its so natural and smooth, giving the characters a chance to breathe and exist and providing a glimpse of how they go about their daily lives. It's soft and lighthearted but it establishes so much about where Willow and Hunter are currently at in their relationship. They've been dating for like....3 years at the very least. And they're clearly very happy together!!

The way Willow casually slides on to the scene, giving the impression that she's often dropped in on him while he's working. And why wouldn't she? That's her sweetheart. What if she requires emergency smooches? What then? And of course, there's Hunter beaming at the sight of her. Seems he never gets tired of his girlfriend stopping by to visit. Or maybe he's sick to death of Willow the menace showing up to distract him while he's trying to work and he's just excited about the prospect of Luz's party. Either way, it's an adorable expression.

Something else I love about epilogue Huntlow is how equally distributed the affection is between both of them. Back when FTF dropped I gushed about how sweet it was to see Hunter taking initiative with Willow and the significance of something as simple pressing his backhand against hers during the pinky hold. And God, this sequence here says it all. From what I can tell, as Hunter runs towards her, they both reached out at the same time and linked hands immediately, implying that holding hands has become the automatic gesture for them whenever they meet up. They're in love, you're honor.

I love the huge carefree grins as they skate down the hill (still holding hands). They might have grown a lot since we last saw them but they're still young adults, they still love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff. And even better, they love to have fun doing dumb reckless stuff together. All the handholding and fluffy cuteness is wonderful but I also love knowing that they seem to genuinely enjoy just hanging out and spending their youth with each other. Zeno was right, they ARE besties. Who knows how much shit Hunter and Willow get up to together? Being a pair of thrill seeking athletes, it's probably a lot.

This part is just so silly and ridiculous. After they go stumbling, Willow's first instinct is to grab Hunter and hold on for dear life. Her intense scrunched up expression is just so funny. "I will protect you, my love. No big dumb hill is going to harm a hair on your pretty head. Your girl is here." And Hunter barely acknowledging it (it probably happens a lot) because his life is currently flashing before his eyes. GOD they're just such nerds.

Oh and this frame is just SO adorable. The way Willow's hold on him lingers for a moment before he walks towards the grave, Hunter's heart eyes. They're clearly still so soft and touchy with each other. And this is after three years. I know they were insufferable when they started dating as teens.

[joelsgreys]

wip wednesday

thank you for the tags angels 🤍 @mrsmando @honeyedmiller @mermaidgirl30 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

here are snippets of some of the many wips i am actively working on. or trying to anyway.

the gold room - dbf!joel x stripper!reader

“Jesus Christ.” Joel stares at you, using every last ounce of strength he has in his entire body not to let his gaze wander past your chin. He’s trying not to look at the way your skintight, neon pink dress hugs every soft, heavenly curve of your body, how the matching rhinestone garter shimmers around your deliciously plush thigh. “Is it even legal for you to be fuckin’ workin’ here?” Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms and shift your weight from one seven inch heel to the other.  “You can dance at eighteen,” you inform him. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m twenty one, Mr. Miller. So with all due respect, chill the fuck out, okay?” “You went to college—“ “College is fucking expensive,” you interject with a shrug. “The job market is shit and I don’t plan on drowning in my student debt for the next ten years. Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t stand there and judge me. Don’t act like what I do is so terrible when you have been paying good fucking money for girls like me to dance for you and sit in your lap all night long.” “That’s fuckin’ different. None of those girls are my best friend’s daughter.”

flutter - post outbreak! joel x pregnant!reader

As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the stove, you crack a couple eggs into another, knowing the kid was on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast. “Morning!” Ellie pipes, the plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you. “Ellie,” you warn, walking over to the table. “Don’t—” “You’re bigger!” With a playful glare, you set her plate down along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks, you little jerk,” you say, feigning offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.” “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she starts to sputter. “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach—you didn’t look like this yesterday. You look great, just different.” She’s lucky your raging hormones decided to take the morning off.

chapter 10 for a safe haven

*this is just a short short snippet because it’s being heavily edited rn so i can post it soon!

He peels off his clothes, being careful not to further agitate his sore, inured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you sitting in bed under the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home.”

np tags! 🤍 @sugarcoated-lame @ozarkthedog @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro @ezrasbirdie and anyone else who’d like to share their wips!

[the-californicationist]

The Simple Mistake (Ghoap)

Ghoap fluff, hurt/comfort (please be nice i dont write ghoap)

Johnny wasn’t often the smaller man. In most situations, he was the aggressor, or at least the larger of the pairing. But, he felt himself being lifted as if his body were mostly air. He was being carried like a sack of flour, hoisted over a huge, mountainous shoulder, and tossed into arms that cradled him with ease. The sergeant could feel the way his captor’s muscles bent and twisted, even under all his black gear, and although the gunfire and the flashbangs were deafening, he could hear the hollow, steady swell of the man’s breathing as it filled his wide chest. 

“C’mon, Sergeant. Just a few minutes and you’ll be right as rain. Hold on,” the dark, muffled voice told him. 

The man had been making these threats the whole time, promising him freedom and safety, telling him he’d be alright. Johnny didn’t much care either way, not anymore. Right now, all he wanted to feel was more of the same, more of these shoulders, more of this expansive back whose lats were pulled wide like spread wings. A great bird of prey, or a vulture come to claim its carrion. 

Bullet wounds were always a fucking mess, that was for sure. Luckily, the pain of it was being covered by an immense layer of shock. Johnny could feel the symptoms; chills, loss of sensation, trembling… it was all there. But, he was thankfully lucid, so they may not have hit him in a vital spot. Because of the vest and all of his gear, he hadn’t been sure exactly which bullet had landed the blow, but he felt the punch of the projectiles in his leg and chest, so something was bleeding… that much was clear. 

It wasn’t his symptoms that concerned him; it was the tone of his Lieutenant’s voice as he reassured him over and over and over again, killing Makarov’s men as he made his way out of the warehouse with a series of pistols that he procured from the piles of dead terrorists. Having to stop and murder more Konni operatives made their journey a slow one, and Johnny could tell Ghost was becoming more and more frustrated. 

“Where are these fuckin’ bastards all comin’ from?” The strong English accent was a comfort to the Scot, as much as it was an annoyance. 

He didn’t reply to the question, not even with a snarky jab, and he stayed as still as he could, trying to make it easy on his carrier. 

“You alive, Sergeant?” The concern had increased by an octave.

“Solid,” Johnny managed to respond, but it was getting a little hard to breathe. 

“Almost there, mate. Almost… there,” Ghost rushed into a heavy, lockdown facility and shut the door behind him.

There were three inches of steel between them and their enemies and absolutely no communication service. The silence of the safe room settled around the two men like a dark blanket, shielding them from the outside world. The light was dim, the floor was mostly sand, and there was a marked lack of furniture. 

Johnny felt himself being gingerly laid down on a desk, all of its contents fiercely strewn on the floor of the room, and Ghost began to remove the sergeant’s gear. 

“Jesus, LT,” Johnny panted, “Feels like you didnae even break a wee sweat, sir. I wanna be just like you when I grow up.”

The lieutenant was too focused for his jokes, his voice flat and cold, focused on ripping Johnny’s gear from him piece by piece,

“You’ll be better than me, Johnny.”

Johnny felt like he was being mauled by a bear. His body was jostled around like a ragdoll as Ghost pulled plate after plate from his chest. Eventually, his vest was ripped away, and then Johnny saw the glint of a huge knife. He barely had time to gasp when Ghost sliced up through his shirt and sleeves, yanking it off of his body, revealing his chest, sweaty and hairy, tanned in odd lines where his tank top and tee shirt had been. The sergeant chuckled a bit, nervous, smiling up at his commander,

“Maybe I already am, sir.”

Ghost didn’t reply. He was too focused on the task at hand. His eyes were wild, checking and rechecking Johnny’s body for the source of his blood. Finally, the sergeant was turned, lifted with ease from the desk, so that Ghost could inspect his leg. 

“Trousers have to come off, Sergeant,” the lieutenant explained. 

It was barely a warning. In one swift rip, Ghost shucked Johnny’s pants down to reveal… all of him. 

Johnny wasn’t really one for underwear, but he was kicking himself for that habit today. 

“LT! Christ!”

“You’re hit in the side of this leg. Need an XStat here. Deep breath.”

Johnny didn’t have time to breathe at all. The searing pain from the insertion of the wound-sealing device made his face twist into a wild grimace, and he shivered from the hot flash of agony. 

“Fuuuuckkk…” Johnny moaned, writhing and fully naked on the shitty desk.

Ghost was on the ground, digging in his gear bag, and he produced a foil shock blanket. He unwrapped it, ripping through the packaging, and lay it over his sergeant, tucking it around him. 

Johnny was shuddering, and his voice shook, but he tried to smile,

“Th-thanks, LT… Wish I had a wee bit more warmth, though. Cannae seem to stop shakin’.”

Ghost pulled off his gloves, and then, to his shock, Johnny watched as he removed his mask. He didn’t see Simon’s face often, but when he did, he tried not to stare. It was just a face, after all. There were no odd deformities, but it was as if some version of Zeus had just revealed himself through a swan or a bull; it was meant to be witnessed. 

The lieutenant didn’t meet his eyes, but he scooped him up, his huge arms curled under his back and in the crook of his knees, and brought him down to the ground. Then, he just… held him there. 

Johnny tried to remember the last time he had been held. A wee lass from high school, perhaps? But, she had not cradled him like a bairn. Perhaps it was his ma, when he drug his knee climbing through nettle at his uncle’s farm, burning up like the idiot he was, sniffling about the sting. 

Now, here he was, a grown man, cradled again in the same way. The bulk of Simon was warm against him, but the gear dug into his naked flesh. Ghost could sense his discomfort and moved him aside for a moment, shrugging out of his vest, and replacing Johnny right back into his arms. 

“Are you warm?” Simon asked quietly, a little under his breath.

“Aye, sir, thanks for tha’.”

“Are you in pain?” This question came out like a prayer, and it unsettled the younger man.

“Aye… but, it’s better now, sir.”

“Good. Help’s comin’. Sent Laswell a ping before we got locked in.”

Johnny chuckled, resting his head on Simon’s shoulder,

“She’ll find us in a right state.”

Simon shifted a bit, and there was a long pause before he muttered,

“I’m sorry, Sergeant. When they arrive, we can —”

“Haud yer wheesht,” Johnny interrupted him, pressing his forehead into Simon’s warm, bare neck, “It’s a fine state.”

“Aye.”

“Aye?” Johnny’s blood rushed through his veins, “So, you have taken a shine to me, then.”

“Aye,” Simon said, finally turning to meet Johnny’s eyes as he lay in his arms. He pressed his nose into Johnny’s space, close enough for a kiss but speaking to him instead, 

“I’ve taken a bloody shine. It’s bright enough to keep me awake at night, and it’s blindin’ me now. Everything in me says that I should leave you alone. Your rank, your future… you rely on me. But, I can’t stop staring at the shine of you. So bright. All the time.”

Johnny’s arm crinkled through the foil blanket as he reached a hand up to touch the coarse shadow on Simon’s jaw, drawing those full lips into his, petting his cheek, tasting the cigarette smoke on his tongue. He moved against him, feeling Simon’s enormous strength respond in a generous outpouring of affection, like a statue once frozen now come to life. They sank into each other, melding together, melted like hot wax, fusing, tumbling until there was only the shine of love between them.