#i want to roll a joint for the first time in over a year but i have a bad cough dfghfds help

[non-un-topo]

Genderqueer/trans/nb/butch/otherwise gender-fuckery friends, what’s a moment of gender euphoria you’ve experienced that you’re willing to share? I feel like I need to share in some queer happiness today <3

[ultralightpoe]

The Freak and The Princess -Eddie Munson

Authors Note: I think I wrote this one back when the new season first came out? Cleaning out drafts and for a couple months I was on an Eddie track fr fr

Word Count: 13,441

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT - Eddie and reader are mean to each other for a bit.

(Thank you for the gif @johnclaytonmayer)

Enjoy!

It was amazing to think how much things change. 

There had once been a time where you considered Eddie Munson to be your best friend, that and your brother Gareth. There had been a time where you thought Eddie Munson was one of the most perfect people in the world, where you had craved to spend any possible second you could with him. 

Now, sitting in the back of his van soaked to the bone as you sob, you find that you’re somehow sitting across a stranger. He watches you closely, eyes stern as he wraps a blanket around you to try and help the shivering. 

It was weird to recognize every single detail of him and still feel like you didn’t all at once. 

“Do you want to smoke? Will that help?” He asks, already reaching for the lunch box hidden in the back so he could grab one of the joints you had seen him roll earlier in the day. 

“I want to go home.” You cry, a shiver going down your spine. “But I don’t want them to see me like this.” 

“Okay.” He nods, and you can see him try to come up with a plan. “I can take you to my trailer for a bit, you can shower and sleep some of this off. Okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod, hands still shaking. “Thank you….. thank you Eds.” 

He stills at the nickname, eyes catching yours for a moment before he is shuffling to get into the driver seat without another word. 

You felt silly, calling him his nickname after everything that’s happened, shuffling to lay on your side to help ease some of the pain built up. You hear him shuffle around with the music, debating if he should have it up or down. 

“Do you want music, bugs?” He asks, your chest warming at the nickname as you close your eyes, inhaling the scent from his sweater and blanket as you fall asleep. 

-

You had met Eddie your freshman year of highschool, before that he had always been Gareths mysterious friend that you had never seen before. 

But now that you went to school with them it seemed that Eddie was everywhere, not that you minded. 

You had quickly become a main member of their group, sitting with them at lunch and going to their band practices. You and your brother had always been close, so it wasn’t anything different than how it used to be. You were just hanging out with your brother…… and his extremely hot friend that you sometimes imagined kissing. No biggie.

But being completely honest everything about Eddie to you was a huge biggie. 

Like right now, as he glared at you while angrily breaking pretzels with his teeth, and all you could do was smile at him. 

“What is wrong with you?” He snaps and you preen under the attention. 

“I said what I said.” You simply reply, flipping your hair over your shoulder with confidence. 

“How can you hate Texas Chainsaw?! It’s such a classic movie! First of its kind!” He whines, snatching a fry from your plate. 

“You say that about every slasher movie, Eds.” You grumble, snatching a pretzel from his bag. “They’re all new and amazing to you. 

“Because they are!” He sighs, obviously frustrated that you wouldn’t agree. “You’re just upset that we didn’t watch that new goonies bullshit.”

“What’s going on?” Gareth asks, sitting beside you with his own lunch tray and snatching one of your fries even though he had some of his own. 

“We were just talking about movies.” You mumble, a blush rising across your skin. Wednesday nights Gareth had to work at the gas stations over night shift, so you had begun hanging out with Eddie when your brother was busy. That had turned into spending the night at Eddie’s and telling your older brother that you were spending the night at your friend Abigail’s since you knew he would get butt hurt that you hung out with Eddie without him. 

“Bugs here thinks Texas chainsaw sucked.” Eddie grunts, throwing a pretzel at you. 

“Oh no way! It’s so good!” Your brother gasps as Jeff joins the table and soon Paul joined. Suddenly the table was packed and chaos filled the once normal conversation. 

You allowed them all to talk over you, choosing to look around the cafeteria as they do so. Everyone today seemed to be in a flurry of excitement, laughing and dashing across the cafeteria. 

You make eye contact with Adam Hanson, one of the schools popular basketball players and he gives you a wide smile, winking as all his friends talk around him. 

At first you pass by it, not really thinking he was looking at you until he waves his hand to get your attention again, smiling like a goof as he wiggles his fingers right before he winks again. 

A small touch at your wrist pulls you back to the table, where Eddie is peering at you with wide brown eyes as the boys yell at each other about something. His thumb is rubbing your wrist softly as you try and smile. 

“You okay?” He asks, looking past you to where Hanson sits before looking back to your eyes. 

“I’m fine. Hanson has always been a clown.” You mumble back shrugging. 

“Okay well I was asking you if you want to retry.” Eddie mumbles, thumb still rubbing your wrist. 

“Retry?” 

“Movie night.” 

“I’m not watching texas chainsaw again.” You laugh which makes him smile. 

“I meant we need to make up for it. Get a movie you might actually like.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Gareth works tonight and Wayne is going to be doing an all nighter at work so we can get another movie.” 

“That sounds like fun.” You smile at him, watching his shoulders relax a bit. 

“What sounds like fun?” Gareth asks turning to you. 

“Burning the government down.” You reply, smiling innocently. 

“That sounds like fun, count me in.” A new voice emerges from behind you, making the rest of the table blink slowly as you turn to see Adam Hanson standing there smiling wide. “What time should we meet up? I’ll bring the gasoline.” 

“I think our rebel van is already full this time. Maybe you can catch the next round.” You smile. 

“Burning down more than one government are we?” He laughs with raised eyebrows. 

“Mmm. Maybe a monarchy next.” You offer, shrugging a bit as he laughs like it’s the funniest thing in the world. “I like to keep my options open.”

“Can we help you?” Gareth scoffs, glaring at Adam like he was being a huge issue. 

“Hey, take it easy. Just trying to join a revolution.” Adam teases, hands held up in a surrender way and winking at you once more before walking off to join his friends at the door while your brother glares at you like you had done something wrong. 

“What?” 

“That was gross!” He scoffs. “Dude was ogling at my baby sister.” 

“No he wasn’t.” You scoff back, blushing a bit as your brother rolls his eyes. Risking a quick look to Eddie, nervous about his reaction, you find him wide eyed looking between your brother and yourself. 

“Wasn’t that disgusting, Eddie?” Gareth snaps, pulling the poor dungeon master into it. “The kid barely notices you then you hit puberty and suddenly he’s all over you? Fucking perve.” 

“Why are you making such a big deal about this? He was just being nice.” 

“You’re a child. And he was not just being nice.” Gareth scoffs again, smacking the back of your head. “It’s called being a pedophile.” 

“Doesn’t count. They are both minors.” Jeff reminds through a mouthful of pizza. 

“Yeah well it’s still gross.” Gareth snaps. 

Now, completely embarrassed by this whole ordeal, you risk one more look at Eddie only to realize that he was avoiding eye contact and pretending to read the textbook in front of him. 

“I’m gonna go to my locker.” You mumble, the embarrassment eating you. You grab your stuff quickly, dropping off the tray into the trash before exiting all together. 

  

Eddie’s trailer had once made you nervous, the idea of being where Eddie lived and slept. 

But now? You were very used to it, excitement fills you whenever you come over. 

Knocking, just as you always do, after parking your bike by the side so it doesn’t get stolen. Soon enough the door was cracking open and Eddie’s face came into view, a smile breaking out on his face when he sees you, opening the door wider to reveal he is only in sweats with his torso of tattoos that has your eyes widening. 

“You’re early.” He mumbles out, rubbing his eyes to try and wake up, pulling you in so he can shut the door from the cold. “Jesus. Why is it so chilly?” 

Within moments he is pulling you in for a hug, rubbing your back in an attempt to warm you up. You’re body is immediately ablaze, cheeks warm from blushing and skin hot. 

“It’s this funny thing called fall.” You joke, hugging him back tightly before he tries to shuffle you both back to his room without breaking it. A giggle escapes you when he trips slightly before you let go so he can walk normally and moves to his room with you close on his heels. 

It’s a routine that you both follow easily when you arrive, going to his room to change out of everyday clothes and into something more comfortable. 

He lets you wear one of his band tees and sweats, snatching the pillows from his bed as you change, and then he leads you back out to the living room. 

“I went ahead and got the goonies for you, because you’re a nerd.” He grunts out, moving to put the tape in. “Why are you so early today?” 

“I didn’t go home, I had a meeting after school and came straight here.” You answer, watching his interest peak as he raises an eyebrow. 

“What meeting?” You wait for him to sit on the couch, laying down before extending his arms to grab you so that you both could lay down, pressed to each other as you fixed the blanket. 

“Cheer. They have an opening so I signed up for the auditions.” You mumble, using his chest as a pillow while he looks down at you. 

“You want to cheer?” 

“Yeah. I always have. I used to do it all the time, cheer camp and everything but when I first came to Hawkins someone told me I shouldn’t.” You answer, adjusting the blanket so it covered you both as his hands move to play with your hair. 

Something about Eddie? He was ALWAYS touching you. Found every excuse in the book to do so. And it annoyed you to no end because he was so casual about it and it always left you flustered and a mess. 

“Is that why that kid came up to talk to you today?” He asks, something off about his tone. “Seemed like you knew him.” 

“I have math class with him.” You yawn, closing your eyes and keeping your nose pressed into his chest as you fall asleep. 

Sometime later he wakes you up, half asleep himself to get you both to his room, falling into the mattress and pulling you in to fall back asleep. 

-

“You’re being so weird today.” Gareth snaps through a mouthful of cereal, leaning against the locker next to yours. 

“Shut up.” You mumble out, not daring to look him in the eyes as he draws attention to you both. 

“Why me shut up? Dude this isn’t a good idea.” 

“Gareth. Take it down a notch.” You warn. 

“You want to be on the cheer team? Really?” He scoffs. “That lame group that shares maybe one brain cell between them?” 

“With me there might be more” you try to tease, watching him roll his eyes before another figure emerges. 

“Dude. Where were you last night? I called like 6 times.” Gareth sighs, and you’re just thankful that the conversation moved on from you for a moment. 

“I went to bed. Take it down a notch.” Eddie shrugs, looking at you the same time you looked at him. 

Technically he wasn’t lying. He had gone to bed. “What’s the problem?” 

“My sister wants to join the world of bimbos and stds.” Gareth snaps, and you feel Eddie move forward to avoid being pushed in the crowded hallway, his chest hitting your shoulder with warmth. 

“You want to date Steve Harrington?” He laughs, making you smile back. 

“She wants to be a cheer slut.” 

“Who does?” This time it’s Paul that asks, with Jeff right on his tail. And once again you’re thrown in the center of their arguing. 

“Seriously?” Paul laughs when he is told, blatantly laughing in your face. “That’d be so hilarious!” 

“Hey, come on.” Eddie warns. 

“I mean she’s….” Paul trails off a bit and you find yourself filling in on the words he didn’t say. You’re what? Lame? Ugly? Unlikable? 

“It’s not gonna work.” Gareth shrugs.”I just don’t want you to get hurt buggie.” 

“She’s not gonna make it. And even if she does it’s not like she’ll be on long.” Paul giggles to himself. “You’d have to put out to the-“ 

Eddie and Gareth both punch his shoulders on either side, as hard as they can. 

“See you at cheer practice, ……” a soft voice rings out, drawing your attention to Chrissy Cunningham, a girl in your class. 

She held a small smile, one that said “I got your back.” And you realized what she must have seen, you surrounded by a bunch of guys making fun of you. 

So you give a tiny wave, which makes her smile widen and suddenly you were smiling too, a little happier when she walks off. 

Something light fills your chest until you look back to Gareth who glares at you. “You’re not even in yet and you’re already acting like one of them.” 

“I don’t get why you’re so mad. Paul, you said last band practice that I annoy you guys.” You remind, snatching one of your books as Eddie stands straight suddenly. “Being a cheerleader means I don’t sit in on practices anymore.” 

“Wait; you said that?” Eddie asks, chest still pressed into your shoulder as he holds out his hand to Paul in a shocked way. “Why?” 

“Cause she always-“ 

“Can we get back to the problem at hand? You’re gonna be all cool and popular and lose all your personality.” Gareth snaps. “Just another girl with a pretty smile that the jocks use and abuse.” 

“I’d still hang out with you guys?” You laugh, closing your locker. “What are the chances that we all stop being friends? I live with you, remember Gary?” 

“Whatever bugs.” He huffs, a small smile playing at his lips. 

He waltzes off after that, bowl of cereal in hand as Paul and Jeff follow him to class. Eddie remains, watching you. 

“I don’t know why Paul said that but-“ 

“Eds, it’s fine. He’s a little right at the end of the day. I mean there’s only so much I can talk to you guys about so maybe it’s time I make a couple more friends.” You shrug. 

“You can talk to me about anything though.” Not about the huge crush you have, or the way every time he touches you your heart beats fast. 

“Not about periods or bra sizes.” You joke, moving to walk away, surprised when he follows you. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the other side of school?” 

“You can talk to me about anything.” He states again, this time more serious. “Periods. Bra sizes. Anything and everything.  I just want you to know that.” 

You smile at him, shrugging and walking away to class. 

- 

Two days later you’re rushing home with excited news, a smile splitting across your face as you run to tell everyone.  

Tonight was band practice, which meant all the boys would be in the garage so you’d probably tell them first, your new cheer uniform clutched tightly in your hands as you make your way up. 

You see Eddie’s van parked in the driveway and excitement fills you at the thought of telling him, so you cut across the lawn, just at the point where they can almost hear you when you hear them talking. 

“-I think it’s great that she’s going for the cheer team.” Jeff’s voice rings out, catching your attention “she used to cheer when she was younger right?” 

“Yeah. She stopped when she got to high school. I don’t know man, I just think it’s going to ruin her you know?” 

“At least she won’t be following us around all the time.” Paul grunts out, and your heart clenches. “She’s always there!” 

“That is a good point.” Gareth sighs. “Maybe go and make her own friends.” 

“She’s so annoying. Always talking our ear off about everything and always asking us if she can play DND.” 

“She doesn’t ask us if she can play. She asks how we play and if she can watch.” Jeff corrects. 

“For what though? So she can start coming to those hangouts?! She ruins everything!” Paul snaps and you suddenly feel really stupid. 

“I think you’re right.” Eddie laughs, which makes Jeff and Gareth laugh too and you completely shatter there. 

What happened to you talking to him about anything? 

“I’m just saying man-“ 

“Yeah yeah, we know what you’re saying Paul.” Eddie interrupts him, still laughing. You can’t hear anymore, you turn to head through the front door rather than the garage, storming up to your room and slamming your door. 

-

Eddie was anxious, had been all day since he found out the cheer tryouts were today. 

He didn’t know what he was so worried about in general, and no matter what he tried to talk himself out of he always found something else to worry about. 

What if you got in and stopped hanging out with all of them? No more secret movie nights at his trailer or sneaking you into the hideout so you can watch their shows. 

No more of you coming to band practices and cheering them on. He wouldn’t get to be near you as much. You wouldn’t sit at the table with them and he wouldn’t get to talk to you everyday. 

Or worse, you become one of them and you end up hating him just like they do.  

But then he tells himself that neither of those would happen, you would still be their friends and you loved movie night as much as he did. Or.,….. well he hoped you did. 

Besides, he would be upset if they turned you down. He knew you would be upset and he just wouldn’t be able to handle how sad you would look. 

They would be idiots to turn you away, he’s seen you dance at the hideout….. well more so like he watched you intently like a perv, scared your brother might finally notice just how much Eddie liked you. 

That had been his biggest concern as of late, Gareth. Watching your brother freak out everytime someone tried talking to you or everytime Paul hinted about you, well it made him feel like a shit friend. 

Not to mention it made him feel bad for you. You just wanted to hang out with your brother and his friends, you didn’t need him being all weird about it. 

You especially didn’t need him trailing after you like a lost puppy all the time. 

Which was why he was getting so anxious at band practice, listening to Gareth get into it with Paul over you. 

“This is such bullshit man, I already got you drooling over my sister at every turn-“ 

“I do not!” Paul snaps.

“-and not the rest of the school will be too!” Gareth yells, frustrated. 

“Just wait until she starts dyeing her hair and sucking faces with all the boys on the team!” Paul gags, which makes Jeff roll his eyes. 

“You’re just saying that because you’ve been head over heels in love with her since middle school dumbass. We all see it. And personally I think it’s great that she’s going for the cheer team.” Jeff adds, always the calm one.  “she used to cheer when she was younger right?” 

“Yeah. She stopped when she got to high school. I don’t know man, I just think it’s going to ruin her you know?” Gareth sighs, and Eddie finally recognizes what the biggest problem here was. He was afraid he wouldn’t have your back anymore. 

“At least she won’t be following us around all the time.” Paul grunts out, and Eddie finds himself clenching his fists and trying not to lose his cool. “She’s always there!” 

“That is a good point.” Gareth sighs. “Maybe go and make her own friends.” 

“She’s so annoying. Always talking our ear off about everything and always asking us if she can play DND.” 

“She doesn’t ask us if she can play. She asks how we play and if she can watch.” Jeff corrects which makes Eddie nod. He had countless nights planning the campaigns with you and always offered to teach you, but you never wanted to actually play, instead you gave him ideas on his campaigns. 

“For what though? So she can start coming to those hangouts?! She ruins everything!” Paul snaps. 

“I think you’re right.” Eddie laughs loudly, turning to Jeff in reference to Paul’s crush on you as they all laugh at Paul, who gets completely red in the face at the way they are all calling him out. 

“I’m just saying man-“ 

“Yeah yeah, we know what you’re saying Paul.” Eddie interrupts him, still laughing even though he feels like pummeling his face in. “You’re madly in love with Gareths little sister and she doesn’t like you back so you have to be angry at her for it.” 

“Back off my little sister you freak.” Gareth laughs at paul. “She’s too good for you.” 

She’s too good for everyone, Eddie thinks, turning towards the open garage door waiting to see you. “What time was that shit supposed to end anyways?” 

“All I know is she said she’d be home for dinner.” Gareth shrugs and Eddie still can’t decide if he wants you to make it on the team or not. 

All he hopes for is that they are nice too you. 

So he waits, and waits. Even when they are playing their songs he keeps his eyes on the door for you to emerge. 

Finally Gareths mom comes out smiling to call them in for dinner. 

“What about sis?” Gareth asks as everyone helps his mom set the table. 

“She’s upstairs.” This catches Eddie’s attention, heart thundering as he tries to play it cool. 

“I didn’t see her come in?” Gareth asks, moving to the stairs in an attempt to call you down but your mom is quick to stop him. 

“Don’t. She’s upset and trying to lay down.” 

“She’s upset?” Eddie asks, chest aching. “What happened?” 

“I don’t know. I went to check on her and she was crying. Said she didn’t feel well.” Your mom answers and Eddie’s fist clenched. 

They probably made fun of you, they probably made you cry at the try outs. Jeff taps his shoulder, mouthing a ‘chill out.’ That makes Eddie worried. 

Did Jeff know he had a crush on you too? 

Did Gareth know? 

“Eat up boys.” Your mom orders. 

- 

The next morning was rocky at best. 

You got up and got dressed into your cheer uniform, and then at the last second decided that since you were wearing the uniform why not do your makeup? You wanted to look cute for your first day on the team. 

You hadn’t thought about what you overheard until your brother barged in your room, giving you a confused look as you finish up the final touches on your face, suddenly embarrassed as it all comes rushing back. 

“You made it?!” He asks, which makes you roll your eyes. 

“Yes. Shut up.” You grunt, pushing him out of the way to grab your shoes. 

“Mom said you were upset yesterday, so I figured you didn’t make it.” He shrugs, admiring himself in your mirror before throwing your own brush at you.  

“I just had a migraine.” You lie, trying to play it off. Don’t cry. Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. 

“Damn. Sorry bugs. I’ll grab time Tylenol before we leave in case it comes back.” And with that he is gone, you hot on his heels to catch up as you dash to pack your lunch. 

“Eddie is swinging by to pick us up.” Gareth informs, snatching an apple and the bottle of Tylenol before moving to count the money in his wallet for lunch. 

“Why?” The only times eddie took you to school were after your movie nights when you were at his house anyways. 

“He offered last night. Let’s go.” Your brother sighs, ushering you to the door. 

“We’ll I don’t wanna intrude and I have something after school so I can just ride my bike.” You’re quick, moving away from your brother in attempt to make it look like you forgot something. “Go on without me.” 

“Bugs, I’m sure Eddie or Paul will give you a ride after your meeting thing. Let’s gooooo.” He groans, pulling you by your hair and out the door. 

When he manages to drag you to the van Eddie leans over to open the door and Gareth waits for you to hop in. 

“I should just ride my bike. I’ve got something after school later and you guys won’t want to wait around-“ 

“We have DnD tonight.” Eddie shrugs. “We’ll be at the school late anyways.” 

There was no winning with these two, so you nod and hop in, trying not to take up too much space as Eddie stares at the uniform. 

“You got in?” 

“Why is everyone so shocked?” You snap, embarrassed and upset. They thought you were annoying and always there and apparently no one believed you would get in the squad. 

“It’s just-“ 

“Is that a donut?” Gareth asks, snatching it from the console. 

“I got it for bugs to cheer her up-“ Eddie starts right as Gareth shoves half of it in his mouth. “Nevermind.” 

“Can we just go?” You snap, attempting to avoid eye contact with both. 

- 

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, walking with you on your way to your locker after 3rd period, his eyebrows pinched in worry and his eyes wide. 

“I’m fine.” You lie, trying to smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Maybe because I overheard people I thought were my friends making fun of me, or maybe because the guy I’ve been madly in love with since I met him thinks I’m clingy and annoying. 

“I just wanted to make sure because-“ he grunts out as Steve Harrington elbows him to get past, accidentally shoving him into you and sending you both into the lockers. “God damnit.” 

Eddie is quick to give you space, reaching for the arm that hit the lockers to make sure you’re not hurt as he blinks. 

“I’m fine.” You smile, enjoying the feeling of his hand on your skin. “Did you pack lunch today?” 

“No. But since I stopped to get you breakfast, sorry about that by the way, I picked something up.” He explains, walking with you and dropping his hand. The way he’s staring at you makes you nervous, In the best way. And you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as he attempts a smile, until you remember what was said yesterday and those butterflies find themselves in a blender. “Might you be interested in sharing a store made sandwich and sun chips milady?” 

“Oh how thoughtful-“ you begin, joining him in the lunchroom before you see Paul and Jeff already sitting there, panic rising. “But I realized I forgot my lunch. I’ll go get something.” 

“Okay, I can walk up with you-“ Eddie starts, but you stop him. 

“I’m fine! I’ll be good.” You mumble out. “Besides, Paul’s already calling you over.” 

Eddie gives you a worried look, but nods and heads over to the table anyways, all the boys matching in their hellfire shirts as Paul starts loudly complaining about something. 

You realize halfway to the line that your excuse didn’t make sense since you did pack lunch, and you hadn’t grabbed your wallet since this outfit didn’t have pockets so you had no money to buy anything. 

And while you stood there, debating what you should do, you see Chrissy walking towards you in her uniform as well. 

“Hey!” She smiles, moving in to hug you. “I’m so happy you made it! I was worried when there was only two spots and you were soooo good!” 

A small burst of pride settles through you as she compliments you, linking your arms together as she heads to the cheer table. “I was also worried I'd be left alone. But you’re here and we’re gonna be so awesome!” 

She leads you to the table, and takes a seat like it was the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile you were panicking. What would the boys think? Would these girls want you to sit with them? 

You risk a look over to the hellfire table, seeing all of them staring at you with wide eyes, especially Eddie, who had saved the seat next to himself. 

“Girl; come on! We want to do your hair!” Sarah, the captain, giggles and pulls you to sit. 

It was for the better, all the boys thought you were annoying anyways. Maybe they would get a break from you. 

One lunch wouldn’t hurt and you wouldn’t be so annoying. Right?

- 

“Too cool to eat with us now?” Gareth teases, waiting for you after practice. The sun had gone down in Hawkins, and the sweat from practice clung to you making the night air twice as chilly. 

He had a red mark on his cheek, which told you that he probably was being overdramatic during the campaign and smacked himself again. 

“No. I…” you start to explain, right as Eddie comes out of the doors and spots you. “I was going to get lunch, but Chrissy pulled me to the table.” 

“How was it?” Eddie smiles. “You got to see how the other side lived? Any exciting news to report back?” 

“Nothing much,” you smile, walking with them both as they head to Eddie’s car. “I got to know them a little better and they all talked to me about my routine because they like-“ 

Your brother does an overdramatic yawn, tossing the back door to Eddie’s van open and throwing himself in. “Boring already.” 

You roll your eyes, shutting the door on him before moving to hop into the passenger seat. Eddie gets into the driver side, looking to where your brother is already lighting a cigarette. 

“So they liked your routine?” He asks, looking at you as he starts the van. 

“They did!” You smile, excitement bubbling in you as you move to start talking again. 

“Oh my god. No one cares. Are any of them single?” Gareth smiles, and you lean to smack his head before sitting in silence the rest of the ride. 

When you get home you’re the first to hop out, turning to grab your bag as Gareth crawls out. 

“I can get you guys tomorrow? If you’d like.” Eddie offers, face red for some reason. Gareth narrows his eyes at his friend, while you shrug. 

“Actually the girls are gonna come get me early. Thanks though Eds.” You smile, walking away as Gareth says he’ll be ready by 8. 

- 

One lunch turned to another, then another. Then that turned to going and getting a milkshake with the girls after practice and rides from them in the mornings. 

You went from always being around to never in sight, which absolutely shredded Eddie to pieces. 

It’s not like he wasn’t happy for you, you seemed to be always smiling and giggling with them. You went to the mall with them on weekends and always came back ecstatic about everything you got because the girls all said it looked great on you. 

You definitely grew into the feminine side, and his heart exploded everytime he did manage to see you….. and he was ashamed to admit his pants always got tighter whenever he saw you in uniform. 

You messed around with makeup and you always had a style for you hair. 

Eddie loved it for you, he loved that you seemed to go from stunningly beautiful to so stunningly gorgeous any guy at school wanted you. You seemed to enjoy your new look and he was happy for you. He wasn’t happy about the fact that he never saw you anymore. 

So, on a Wednesday afternoon, when he was dropping off a new cover for Gareths guitar while his friend was at work he was excited to see your shoes in the doorway. 

He waltzed up the stairs and knocked on your door, heart hammering through his ribcage as he heard you jump to answer it. 

Then there you were, as beautiful as can be, with nothing on but a tank and shorts. Excitement courses through him, a smile spreading across his face, it has been weeks since he last saw you and now he could ask about movie night. 

“Hey I-“ he stopped short when he saw Adam Hanson sitting on your bedroom floor, staring at him like he was crazy. Of course he was staring at him like he was crazy, Adam was probably wondering why the school freak was at your door. “I was just dropping off this new cover for your brother. Make sure he gets it, yeah?” 

He practically shoves it into your hands, heart thundering and desperate to get out of here. 

“Okay!” You smile at him and he feels his heart clench through his chest. “Actually Adam and I were finishing up homework if you wanted to watch a movie-“ 

Hanging out with you? Dream come true. Hanging out with you and your boyfriend? Fuck. No. So he finds himself lashing out, a mix of embarrassment and jealousy made for a bad situation. “No thanks. I have better things to do than hang out with Gareths baby sister. Or should I say better girls to do.” 

He pairs it with a bullshit wink in adams direction, not daring to look at you as he moves to walk away while you slam the door. 

“Does the freak always talk to you like that?” Adam asks, and Eddie can only hear ringing at the blood rushes to his ears. Freak. 

He doesn’t bother waiting around, instesd he marches straight out of your house and leaves. 

-

You’re in shock when you close the door, eyes welling with tears. 

“Does the freak always talk to you like that?” Adam asks, pulling your attention to him. “Woah, hey don’t cry.” 

“He’s not a freak.” You defend, as you had been doing the past two months. “And he’s never….” 

What? Talked like that before? You didn’t know that, and you knew he had talked about how annoying you were behind your back? So maybe he’s said more things too. 

“Never to my face.” You shrug, wiping away the tears that kept coming. 

Adam sighs, moving to hug you and let you cry. 

“I’m so telling my boyfriend about this.” He sneers and you laugh lightly. 

“I don’t really know what you’re long distance boyfriend will do to help.” 

“Send me treats that I can share with you obviously.” Adam laughs. “Hey, I can stay and watch that movie with you-“ 

“No it’s fine.” You sniffle. “You have a curfew.” 

And he soon enough leaves, worried about you but you keep telling him it’s fine, anger coiling in your gut at every pity look your friend gives you. 

How dare Eddie. How dare he embarrass you and say that. What had you ever done to him? 

Sure you were the annoying little sister but it’s not like he had ever told you to back off or anything. He had always made it seem like he wanted to hang out. 

You couldn’t shake the anger as you went to bed, and suddenly you found yourself in a weird spot. 

- 

The line that had originally been drawn in the sand, on whether you remained their friend or not, had quickly dispersed after that. 

In fact the sand had been kicked through  and suddenly, without warning, you and eddie had been thrown to war. 

Gone were the cute nicknames of Eds and bugs, now when you addressed each other you referred to him as freak and he referred to you as wannabe. 

You let the basketball players push him in the halls and he threw food at you and your friends in the cafeteria. 

When the winter formal rolled around Adam took you, and you had been so excited for it until Eddie made some snide comment when you came down the stairs which sent you into a sour mood the rest of the night. 

When winter break rolled around Gareth had let them come over nearly everyday for stupid band practice and whenever you came home you made sure to enter through the garage just to piss them off, making sure to unplug the amps each time. 

Like today, hands filled with shopping bags as you came home, saying bye to Chrissy as she drove off with a wide smile, and then turning to the garage. 

“Hey bugs.” Gareth greets, which you simply glare to, making sure to hit Eddie’s shoulder with your own as you pass which makes his curse out and spill his drink. 

“Freaks.” You snap, unplugging their amp and hitting the light switch as you head inside. You hear them all groan, and then you take it one step further and turn off the lights in the garage completely by the power box in the kitchen. 

“Damn it!” Gareth snaps when he realizes and you pick up the phone, dialing adams number since you promised to call him earlier. 

He picks up right as the boys all dash inside, Gareth glaring as you pretend like you don’t even see them. 

“Hey handsome, thought I’d call to check in.” You smile through the phone, hearing him laugh. 

“Hello back beautiful.” Adam says, matching your tone. “You bothering the boys again?” 

“Oh. My favorite thing to do-“ you giggle, slapping Gareth's shoulder when he reaches to hang up the phone. “Back off.” 

“I’m getting mom.” He snaps out while Paul and Jeff disappear to the garage again. He dashes to go find your mom which leaves just Eddie in the kitchen, glaring at you. 

“I miss you too.” You coo into the phone, enjoying the way Eddie’s jaw ticks as Adam laughs and plays long, enjoying the game himself. 

“What’s your problem lately, brat?” Eddie snaps, his eyes angry and set. 

“Hold on baby-“ you say into the phone, covering the mouth piece and giving Eddie your best uncaring face. “Can I help you, freak?” 

He reaches forward, cursing under his breath as he reaches around you to hang up the phone. 

“What the fuck-“ you start before he is snatching the handle from your hands and slamming it into the receiver, turning to you fully. 

“Why are you being this way? What the fuck did we do to you?” 

“I’d love to stay and chat, but I have better things to do. Or should I say better men to do.” You smile, moving to stand quickly as his eyes widen. When you move to walk away he goes to grab one of the bags in attempt to keep you in the room, the paper of the bag rips and suddenly everything you bought at that store falls to the kitchen floor. 

Your mouth falls open as Eddie’s eyes widen at the sheer amount of lingerie sets that fall out. 

Not really lingerie, but close to. All lace panties and bras that Chrissy said would look great on you. 

“I’m-“ Eddie begins, moving to help you grab them at the same time you bend to grab them so your heads hit each other. 

“Damn it-“ you gasp out, rushing to grab all the underwear as he helps you to try and shove them all in the bag.

“I didn’t realize you were so into Adam.” He sneers. 

“Oh shut up.” You sneer back, snatching everything into your hands. “Not everything is about sex-“ 

“Of course it is”. He laughs bitterly. “You’re their new play toy.” 

“I swear to god freak-“ 

“What you gonna do brat?” He seethes, getting into your personal space. 

“Everything okay here?” Gareth asks, making you and Eddie jump back. 

“Whatever Gareth.” You push past him, ignoring the excited buzz you feel from Eddie. 

- 

“Are….are you guys good?” Gareth asks eddie the next morning, making Eddie turn to glare at him. “Don’t bite my head off, okay? I just….” 

Eddie stays silent, starting the car as he watches you waltz across the lawn in the cheer uniform. 

“It’s just that she’s been so different lately and for the past couple weeks you have been too. Did you guys break up?” 

Eddie, who had started driving, immediately hits the brakes and whips to look at Gareth. “What?” 

“Did you and my sister break up?” 

“I’m not- what- we never- Gareth-“ Eddie panics, trying to find the right words. “Listen-“ 

“Dude it’s fine. I always knew okay?” 

“Wait wait wait. We never- she and I never-“ what the hell was happening. “Okay let’s back up. You thought we were dating?” 

“Oh come on. All your secret sleepovers? You really thought I didn’t know about those? You know how many times I pretended to call her friends house for you guys so mom didn’t catch her? And all the small little touches you always had or the way you looked at her. Not to mention all the paragraphs about you in her diary-“

“We never dated.” Eddie cuts him off. “She didn’t like me like that.” 

“No man. She did.” Gareth laughs. “She has always liked you like that.” 

He ignores the feeljng bubbling in his chest at the thought, shaking his head. “Why haven’t you tried to kill me if you thought we were dating?” 

“What?” 

“You’re always freaking out about her and guys, and you always threaten Paul whenever he-“ 

“Guys are gross and I don’t want them hurting my baby sister. Paul is a lame excuse for a human beings.” Gareth shrugs. “And I always figured if my sister was going to date someone it should be you. You are…..semi decent.” 

“We never dated. And she hates me now so I hate her.” Eddie starts driving again, shrugging like it didn’t matter. 

“Why does she hate you now?” 

“Not a clue.” He had a slight clue after the other night. 

“Okay well, do you think you can like… fix whatever it is?” Gareth sighs. “I miss my sister.” 

Eddie missed you too. 

-

He didn’t try to talk to you, he had debated it for all of 4 hours before you had to go and ruin it. 

Just when he was starting to talk himself into apologizing he turned the corner to find you, giggling and blushing with none other than Steve Harrington. 

Upon hearing his footsteps you turn, face falling when you see his glare before that bitch look you’ve perfected the past couple weeks falls in its place, making his heart thump wildly as he walks closer. 

“Your brother asked me to apologize.” He bites out, hands catching themselves behind his back as he glares. “Sorry.” 

“Wow. What a great apology.” Harrington smiles making you slap his shoulder with wide eyes until he laughs and nods. “I’ll see you later okay?” He smiles, tapping your nose before walking off with a simple “Bye Munson.” 

Eddie watches him leave before turning back to you with a raised eyebrow, and suddenly he was desperate to piss you off. Desperate to get under your skin the way you got under his. 

“Oh I see. You didn’t get all the panties for one guy, you got them for the whole school.” He smiles, watching your face fall into one of shock. “What’s the deal? Tap you and then get to keep the panties? Having a buy one get one free sale?” 

“Calling me a slut?” You seethed . 

“If the shoe fits baby.” He coos, smiling from ear to ear as you slam your locker and move forward. 

“I hate you!” 

“I hate you back!” He snaps back, matching your tone as you get closer and closer until your chest are pressed against each other. 

“What did I ever do wrong?” You snap, eyebrows pinching in anger and confusion. “I thought you all liked me and-“

He’s confused now, racking his brain for what you mean before he settles on an answer. “You thought the guys you’ve slept with liked you?” 

The second the words come out he hears how bad it sounds, watching as your face falls and he rushes to explain that he was just trying to understand what you meant. But it’s too late and you reach a hand up to twist his nipple. 

“OW! Holy Jesus-“ he gasps in pain, moving his body to try and pull away but you follow easily, pushing him into the nearest supply closet you can. 

By the time you actually let go he is red in the face, using his hand to rub the sore spot and trying to glare. “Do I wanna know where you -NO OW!” 

“Take it back!” You order, already twisting his second nipple which makes him gasp and move to twist your ear. 

A gasp of pain slips from you and you let go of him to pull back, both of you glaring at eachother. 

He’s panting, and so are you, adrenaline coating your nerves. 

“What’s going on lately?” He snaps, still rubbing the sore spot as you glare back. 

“You tell me.” 

“No you tell me! What did I do? Do I embarrass you? Or maybe I just annoy you-“ 

“Bold of you to say! All you and your friends can talk about is how much I annoyed you!” You snap back. 

“Who said that? Tell me and I-“

“You said it!” 

“When would I ever say that?! Is it that night at your house, because sorry if I didn’t want to hang out with you and your boyfriend!” You shove his shoulder lightly and he gasps before doing it back. Acting like literal children. 

You keep shoving each other, back and forth over and over until a laugh slowly starts leaching from both of you. And suddenly it was normal again, not that angry yelling that’s been between you guys for months. 

“Freak.” You giggle.

“Princess.” He laughs back, but then he is peering at you, hands on his hips as he tries to figure out how to fix this. 

But then, without really thinking, you are on him. Your arms wrapping around his neck as you shove your lips to his, his hands immediately flying to your hips as he lets out a surprised grunt while he catches you. 

He’s still as a board for the first second, his brain taking a moment to catch up before he is diving into the kiss himself, grip on your hips tightening as he devours you in the kiss. 

A small moan slips past his lips into yours, pulling you in as tight as he can, making sure to wrap his arms around your waist to make sure you stay close. 

When you manage to pull back you smile, seeing his eyes closed and eyebrows pinched as he takes a breath in. “Gareth was-“ 

“OH YOU UTTER-“ in an instant his blissful daze is broken as you tear yourself from him, snatching the handle of the closet and storming out leaving him confused and breathless. 

His brain registers finally, managing to pull himself together the slightest bit so he can chase after you, reaching for the handle and giving it a pull as he thinks about what he will say. 

You just kissed him, you just did what he has been dying to do for years and then you ran. 

“What the fuck?” He snaps when the door won’t open by the third pull, the handle stuck. “YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!” 

It’s another 30 minutes before someone is there to help him out, the janitor giving him a confused look as Eddie hauls out of there. 

-

Un-freaking-believable. 

You kiss that man child, give it your all and the first thing he says once you’re done is your brothers name. What a freaking imbecile. What a dumb ass. What a-

“Hey girl, you okay?” Someone asks, pulling your attention to where Maria is standing, wearing her cutest party outfit with a small smile playing off her lips. “You were mumbling angrily about a man child.” 

“I….. ugh.” You groan, dropping the brush as all the girls turn to you with excitement. 

“Tell us everything.” Chrissy smiles. 

“How did he feel? Were there fireworks?” Maria asks. 

“Oh my god, he definitely seems like he knows what he is doing.” Abigail giggles and you watch them all in shock as they stare back. 

“What?” 

“Your first kiss! How was it?” Chrissy explains, eager to know. 

“I….. I didn’t kiss Steve Har-“ 

“Ew, of course not you have standards.” Maria laughs. “But you’re obviously frustrated about a boy and I’m betting you finally kissed Munson.” 

“You….. you guys know I-?” You can’t find the words, embarrassment clawing at you as they all giggle and cheer at having caught you. 

“Oh my god, were his lips soft?” Abigail squeals. 

“Was he gentle? Or like possessive? I love possessive guys.” Maria groans. 

“Did he treat you like heaven? Oh he’s always got this love sick look when you walk by!” Chrissy kicks her feet, all three really excited. 

“Yes. Yes and yes. And no, he actually- ugh- he only sees me as Gareths little sister.” You whine, falling into the bed. “I kiss him and for a second it’s just like, amazing, and when we stopped kissing I was expecting this romantic thing. Maybe he would be all like ‘wow’ or tell me I’m beautiful. You know what the first word he said was?” 

“What?” 

“Gareth.” You explain, and they all gasp like it’s the worst thing in the world. So, ever the amazing friend, you sit up and start telling them everything. 

“I kind of like the way your brother protects you,” Maria blushes. “I mean the boys at Hawkins are all so…. “

“Sex crazed?” Abigail finishes the thought. 

“Yes. And Gareth has always been respectful to me.” Maria smiles. 

“Do you have a crush on my brother?” You giggle, staring at her. 

“No!” She blurts, then smiles a bit. “Okay maybe.” 

And just like that all 4 of your are laughing and planning for the party. 

- 

The party at Jason Carvers house was the last place Eddie Munson wanted to be, truthfully he wasn’t even sure he was allowed. The good news is he hadn’t been kicked out because he was the dealer. 

So he pretended like he was there to sell, really he was looking around for you. This was a last minute plan to talk to you, figure out where he had went wrong and try to fix it. 

Figure out how to kiss you again but he’d take anything at this point, even a friendship. He’d keep his feelings in check. 

30 minutes in to the party and he was beginning to think it was a bust, but then there you were, surrounded by 3 other girls he was sure were on the team, as they all passed by glaring at everyone like they were the queens of the universe. 

And they were, all of them beautiful and untouchable. Especially you. 

It’s like the earth stopped spinning whenever you walked in the room, Eddie’s lungs expanding as he stared at the way you greeted everyone, or rather everyone lunged to greet you. 

Eddie went to greet you, then thought vetter of it and moved to the back of the room and started to talk to the kid that had money waiting for him. 

He keeps along the sidelines of the party, letting you do your thing as he tries to come up with what to say. 

Remember when you rocked my world less than 7 hours ago? Yeah that was amazing and I miss you. 

“You okay there bud?” Someone asks, pulling his attention to where Maria, co captain of the cheer team, is smiling at him over her cup. 

“Yeah, just came in for a refill.” He nods to the keg, an obvious lie since he would never drink that piss water. 

“Right. Okay.” She smiles, and he moves to grab a cup and fill it up so it looks like the truth. “It’s cute, the way they all crowd around her.” 

He, without needing to ask, looks for you immediately . Spotting you by the pool surrounded by a bunch of guys, all desperate to talk to you. 

“Yeah I guess.” He shrugs, spine tense and doing his best not to clench the cup in his fist. 

“Well the guys surrounding her aren't what’s cute. It’s the way she keeps looking for you.” Maria giggles, obviously too drunk to keep her eyes open. “Look, right there.” 

Sure enough he sees you look around, bored of the conversation at hand as one of the guys snakes his arm around your waist. 

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, feet already moving as Maria giggles out while he dashed outside right at the moment the tool throws you both in the booth as you scream. 

His breath stops and he waits a moment for you to emerge, your eyes immediately meeting as you struggle to get to the edge of the pool, the strap of the dress you wore broken. 

The girls are all there to help you as the tool, Tommy something, reaches to pull you back in. Eddie makes quick work of pushing him in with his foot, and snatching you from the water while doing his best to make sure you’re not too exposed. 

“You okay?” He whispers, hand sliding up your body to cover your breast as you try to fix the strap quickly. 

“Y-yeah.” You sniffle, obviously holding back tears. “I’m fine.” 

The girls, your friends, are all yelling at Tommy and the other cheerleaders soon join and start throwing stuff at him in the water, Harrington pushing him back in whenever he tries to crawl out. 

“He was just being silly.” You try to ease yourself, struggling with the strap of the dress. “I don’t know why I’m upset.” 

“You were just thrown into water. It’s okay to be upset.” He smiles, shrugging off his jacket and moving to place it around you so you’re covered. “You wanna leave?”

“Yes please.” You nod, and he gets to moving, pulling you with him as your 3 friends all wave and smile like they know something, cooing out a “bye eddie.” At the same time. 

He gives them a tight wave, helping you out since you seemed to have lost a heel in the pool. 

“Is this even considered a dress?” He scoffs, leading you to his van. 

“It’s very popular in france.” You answer, letting him pull you down the street where his van is hidden, helping you into the back of it. 

-

By the time he pulls into the trailer park he can’t hear you, which means you're definitely passed out back there, and he feels guilty over every pothole and bump he hits before he is pulling into his regular parking spot. 

Wayne’s car is gone so he assumes his uncle is already at work, hopping out of the van and going along the back to open the door you’re closest to. The blanket had moved around a bit, exposing your legs to him and the smallest sight of your panties that has him feeling guilty and quickly readjusting the blanket as he rubs circles on your back to wake you up. 

“Let’s go princess.” He hums, helping you crawl out and get into the house. 

“It smells like….” 

“Sorry.” He blushes, embarrassed. “I didn’t really clean like I normally did whenever you came over.” 

“It’s fine. I was gonna say it smells like you.” You mumble, waiting for his cue to go further into the trailer. It was odd for him, watching you wait, and he’s suddenly reminded about all the time you’ve been separated. This wasn’t a regular movie night, you hadn’t had one of those in months. You probably didn’t feel comfortable being here. 

“I c-can go turn on the shower so it’s hot for you. Give you a moment to relax.” He offers, smiling when you nod before moving to the bathroom to start the shower. He knocks on Wayne’s bedroom door just in case before waltzing into the bathroom and starting the water, making sure the shampoo and body wash are both ready for you and setting up a towel for you to use. 

When the bathroom starts steaming he moves to go get you, jumping a little when he runs into you at the door. 

“Sorry!” He blurts, trying to step out of your way. You shrug, moving past him and into the bathroom, not waiting for him to leave before you shuck his sweater off and move to take the dress off. 

“Help…” you mumble, struggling to roll the fabric off since it was soaking wet and unable to reach the zipper. 

So he moves forward, ready to help you, until you stop him. “Shut the door Eds, you’re letting all the warm air out.” 

He rushes to shut the door for you, tripping over his feet and accidently falling into the door which makes it slam shut and you gasp out. “Are you okay?” 

“Yep. Yeah. Fine.” He mumbles, standing straight and trying to play it off like it was smooth. “Y-you still want help?” 

“Yes.” You nod, watching him closely to make sure he is okay before turning back around and fixing your hair so he can see the zipper. 

With shaky hands he slides it down, enjoying the way your skin shivers at the feel of his fingers down your back, before he helps you slide the fabric off your hips for it to land on the floor. 

Your skin is cold from the fabric, and it reminds him of coming in after a snowball fight and having to fight to get the jeans off leaving him in the damp but not yet wet skin.  

Without meaning to his eyes trail across your exposed back, heart stopping when he realizes you had forgone a bra and only had a pair of panties on. 

“I….” He tries to find words, watching you turn your head to peer at him over your shoulder. “I’ll go.” 

“You’re gonna leave me to shower in silence?” You scoff, slipping the panties off, obviously unaware of the torture you are inflicting when you toss them with the dress and move to step into the shower. 

Your legs are shaky, and he’s panicked. You might slip so he moves to help you step into the tub, his hand wrapped around your elbow gently as he makes sure to keep his eyes on your face. 

“Stay and talk to me?” You ask, and he’s sure you’re just messing with him. Torturing him as payback as you close the curtain and step into the water. 

He sits on the toilet, using the towel he had gotten you as a cover on his lap just in case you peaked your head out, he didn’t need you seeing his massive boner like the freak he was. 

“Why were you at the party?” You ask after a moment. “You hate Jason Carver.” 

“I needed to sell.” He answers a little too quickly.  

“Did I ruin your sell’s since you had to help me leave?” You ask, guilt in your voice. “I’m sorry I-“ 

“I made enough.” He interrupts you, struggling to breathe in the shirt with the steam. “Why were you at the party? You used to hate Jason Carver too.” 

“I still do. Ugh he’s the worst and he’s always following Chrissy around like a little puppy. And he’s so mean to everyone.” 

“He’s friends with Adam isn't he?” He finds himself asking, and never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would be gossiping about the jocks. Especially with you. 

“Not really, Jason said some really messed up things when Adam told everyone he’s gay.” You explain and Eddie snaps his head towards the direction of the curtain. 

“He’s gay?!”

“You can’t tell anyone okay? It’s a secret and he wants to come out himself.” You answer back, and Eddie finds himself standing up. 

You must see his figure get up through the curtain, because you open the curtain and peak your upper body out. “You’re not leaving are you?” 

“N-no. I’m just shocked. I thought you and Adam were…” 

“Absolutely not. Mom would never allow Adam in my room if he we were.” You laugh. 

“So that night you invited me for the movie, you weren’t dating him?” He was stupid, so entirely stupid.

“No? Why would I invite your for a movie in front of my boyfriend?” You laugh, and he can’t seem to process anything. Stepping forward so he was within arms length of you. 

“So you weren’t inviting me to hang out with you and your boyfriend. You were actually wanting to hang out with me?” 

“Yes?” You roll your eyes. “And I know it’s lame. I’m just Gareths little sister and all that-“ 

You disappear from his view once more, pulling both the curtains into the middle to close off the shower again as you keep going. “But I actually thought you liked hanging out with me. You know? And maybe if I gave you guys space I wouldn’t be the annoying little sister all the time but then that day rolled around and you…. It was silly. I shouldn’t have asked you-“ 

A small shriek falls from your lips as he whips the right curtain open, glaring at you. 

“What the fuck do you mean give us space? Who said what?” He’s angry now, jaw set as he glared. “What’s all this about being annoying and suddenly giving us space. Is that why you don’t sit with us?” 

“Yes! You guys just think I’m Gareths annoying little sister!” You snap, and Eddie realizes that you’re completely naked right now, so he quickly shuts his eyes with a groan and pulls the curtain back sharply, keeping it clenched in his fist as he tries to relax. 

“We don’t think that.” He snaps, eyes still squeezed shut. Truth was he always tried not to think of you as Gareths little sister, with the amount of times he’s imagined you-

You snap the other curtain to the side, letting some of the water hit his jeans and making his snap his eyes open right as you push your face close to his. “I heard you guys!” 

“You heard us? When was this, Princess? Cause I’ve never-“ 

“The day of my tryouts! I came home and you guys were talking about how annoying I was and-“ he realizes then what you had heard, his eyes widening as he stares at you before he leans forward to catch his lips onto yours, a small gasp falling from you as he lets go of the shower curtain to wrap around you. Only problem was he was leaning into you and you didn’t have a proper stance so you slipped, and he fell forward into the tub, cursing out to try and catch you both as you accidently bit down on his lip. 

He keeps one arm around your shoulders, his other catching the tub floor just in time as his body lands on yours. 

The water is hitting his back, soaking his clothes as his boner pressed into your naked form, blood leaking from his lip where you bit. 

“Are you okay-“ he begins to panic, but you’re already pushing up to pull him into another kiss, moaning at the taste of iron as your hands slide up his hips until they manage to crawl beneath his shirt and feel at his back, trying to inch the shirt off. 

He pulls back to lean up, whipping the shirt off and flinging it out of the tub, panting as you try to move so the water doesn’t hit you in the face while he moves to help you. 

“It was Paul that day.” He explains. “I don’t know what you think you heard but it was only Paul saying that. Jeff was making fun of him because the tool has a massive crush on you and- shit I’m no better am I? I’ve been dreaming about you every fucking night since I met you.” 

And once again, like two magnets, you find yourself kissing him again and he is obsessed with his. Obsessed with your taste and the way your body melds into his own as you press your chest into his. When you reach for his belt buckle he moves a hand down to stop you, shaking his head through the kiss and moving to stand with you. 

You follow, clumsy and confused, especially when his hands slide to your hips to turn you around so your back is to his chest. 

“What are you-“ your question is met with his hand sliding across your stomach and further down until his fingers find purchase in your folds, a soft moan slipping past your lips that has his blood thrumming. 

“Is this okay?” He whispers, feeling the water hit both you as you nod quickly, his name slipping past your lips. “I need to hear it, please.” 

“Yes!” You snap, your hand moving to push his wrist to apply pressure. “Eds please!” 

So he lets himself, pressing his thumb into your clit as he leans to kiss at your neck, his lip stinging against your skin as you mean out when he moves to slowly press a finger into you. 

“You’re not just the annoying little sister.” He whispers into your skin, fully pushing his finger in and wiggling it until he was ready for another, pulling it out to press both in. “I’ve never seen you like that.” 

“Eds.” You gasp out, keeping one hand on his arm as the other flies to his hair, clenching and pulling it into your fists. 

“If anything princess, I’ve tried talking myself into believing it.” He grunts out, pushing his fingers in quicker than last time. “But you’re not. You’re my girl. Right?” 

“Yes.” You blurt quickly, tugging at his hair and tilting your head to try and kiss him. He doesn’t let you, keeping his own lips pressed into your neck. 

“You’re my girl?” He asks again, voice deeper as his fingers speed up, his thumb circling your clit. The feeling of your body pressed to his, the way your hips rotate ever so slightly to try and match his movements and accidently rub your ass against his crotch. 

His jeans are now soaked, even if they weren’t from the water he is sure he’d have a wet patch from all the pre cum leaking out as he grunts out at the friction. 

“Yes. Always.” You answer, gasping at the pleasure. 

“Promise?” He grunts, nipping a bit as you try once more to kiss him. 

“Eds please!” You cry, hips moving faster as you chase your high on his fingers. 

“Promise me princess.” He growls and your eyes squeeze shut, eyebrows pinching together as your face contorts into one of pure pleasure. You barely manage to yell out a quick “swear it.” as you shake against him, making a smile spread across his lips. 

“Atta girl.” He coos, finally allowing you to tug him into a kiss, biting down on your lip as you kiss him like your life depended on it. “You wanna go to bed?” 

“Yes please.” You sniffle, swiping the bangs from his forehead as he leans to turn off the water; keeping a hand on you at all times while he manages to get you both out of the shower. 

Wrapping a towel around you and snatching both your clothes quickly before leading you to his room.  

The second he shuts the door behind him he sees you drop the towel and crawl across the bed to fall into the pillows, not even giving him a moment to grab you a shirt. 

“Wait. Lemme grab you-“ he starts, struggling to shuck off the soaked jeans and boxers before you are moving to help, helping him step out of them and dragging your hands up his thighs until they reach his hips and you’re pulling him into the bed with you. 

“I thought you wanted to sleep?” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your collarbone as you both crawl up the bed. 

You fall into the pillows, hair splayed out as you smile at him, wrapping your legs around his hips while he covers you both with his comforter, trying to warm up. 

“I said go to bed. Not to sleep.” You mumble with a small attitude, canting your hips up into his own which makes him moan loudly. “This is bed, isn’t it?”

“Oh, smarty pants are we?” He laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple as he melts into you. His forearms slid under the pillow as he let his body weight lay against yours, kissing you ever so slowly as you tried to wiggle around and make it work. He lifts his hips for a moment to help you out, and once you’re settled he presses into you, beginning to grind himself against your folds as you hug each other close. 

“Jesus Christ.” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut as he presses his forehead to your own. 

“Who knew the satanist was so religious ?” You tease, pushing your hips forward trying to gain more friction. 

“Gotta be right now. It’s not everyday a freak like me has a cheerleader in his bed.” He smiles, kissing the corner of your lips softly. 

“I mean it could be.” You offer, making him freeze for a moment. “Or maybe in the drama room. I’ve had tons of ideas about the locker room too.” 

“Princess-“ he grunts, reaching a hand to cover your lips. “Please. You’re ruining me.”

You lick his lips and laugh when he pulls away to reach for his nightstands, moving your hips against his and kissing at his chest as he searches, getting more and more frustrated. 

“Come on- shit baby- I- please- I gotta find a condom just give me a moment please.” He gasps out, and you smile at him. 

“Forget it. I want you. Come on.” You coo and watch him physically shutter, hips pressing into yours tightly as his hands roll into fists and his eyes shut tightly. 

“Eds?” 

“Stop. Give me - fuck- a moment princess.” He grunts, shaking a bit. “I’m gonna bust before I even start.” 

So, being the brat you are, you push your hips up until he is entering you, moaning a bit as he gasps loudly. 

“No no no no.” He gasps out, which makes you freeze.

“Is it wrong? I’m sorry?” You panic, moving to pull your hips back quickly which makes his hand snap out to stop you. 

“It’s not wrong. I just- I refuse to cum.” He blurts, keeping you in the spot with a tight hold. “I can’t cum so soon.” 

“You can.” You whisper, kissing at his neck and nipping at the skin here and there. “I wanna feel it.” 

“I hate you.” 

“I hate you too.” You giggle. “And I need you to move.” 

He takes a deep breath in, giving himself one more moment to try not to cum and then begins moving his hips. Slowly at first, moaning softly as you wrap around him perfectly, moving himself so he was laying on top of you and hugging your body to his before he begins a brutal pace of snapping his hips into yours. 

You stay close, both hugging each other as he moves, the bed thumping against the wall with each thrust. 

Your moans quiet the closer you get to finishing, turning into strangled grunts and mewls as both of you focus in. The sounds of skin slapping just adding to the pleasure of it all as you come undone around him, making him gasp out as he lets go, filling you easily. 

“Oh my god.” He breathes out, shoving his nose into your neck as you try to breathe. 

“There’s that religion again.” You tease, eyes closing as your body finally relaxes. You don’t hear his response, numbing out a bit, snuggling close until his warmth is ripped from you and you have no choice but to open your eyes. 

“No no. You’re not sleeping yet.” He grunts, slapping your thigh lightly before helping you shuffle. “I’ll help you to the bathroom.” 

So he puts on a pair of boxers, putting you in one of his band tees and helping you shuffle to the bathroom to pee, and grab a warm washcloth so he can clean you up while kissing all over your face and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

“My good girl.” He murmurs, leaving a kiss on your ear before leading you back to the room and shoving the towels and dirty clothes in his hamper with the washcloth. 

You tuck yourself into his bed, waiting for him before you close your eyes and get comfortable. 

“Freak.” You whisper out, face pressed into his chest.

“Wannabe.” He murmurs back, playing with your hair as you finally fall asleep.

- 

You’re woken up by the shrill ringing in Eddie’s trailer, snapping awake as he lunges up and blinks. 

The ringing stops after a minute, and then Wayne’s voice breaks out calling for Eddie. 

“The phone!” He calls, making Eddie roll over you to pick up the phone. 

You giggle when his body collapses on top of you as he answers, catching the smile he sends your way. 

“It’s Eddie.” He grunts, eyebrows shooting up when the person on the other side yells. 

“You know where my sister is?! She was supposed to be home last night and-“ 

“She’s here, calm down. She slept in the couch.” 

‘Liar’ you mouth as he rolls his eyes, pinching your side. 

“Okay. I’m coming to get her.” You hear Gareth snap before Eddie shakes his head. 

“No. I’ll drop her off when she wakes up. I’ll be by for band practice anyways.” 

You hear Gareth mumble something out before the receiver clicks and Eddie hangs up on his end. 

“How’d he know to call here?” You ask, reaching a hand up to play with his hair. 

“He thought we were dating already.” 

“Oh?” You laugh before he bites on your collarbone. “Freak.” 

“Wannabe.” He grunts out, and before you know it you both are stripping once more, being quiet since Wayne is in the other room. 

- 

The cafeteria is a mess Monday morning, everyone yelling as some music plays over the speakers to get everyone excited for the game later. 

You took a moment to look across the room, not really being able to see much due to how crowded it was, but you made it to the cheer table, saying hi to the girls as they all giggled over the mark on your neck. 

“You wanna go sit over there?” You ask your three closest friends, wiggling your eyebrows. 

“You’re out of uniform aren’t you?” Jason asks, eyes narrowing at your shirt. Today you had chosen to wear a hellfire shirt over your cheer uniform. 

“Technically not.” Steve adds from the next table over, glaring at Jason. 

“What happened to your face?” You ask, eyes wide at how bad he looked. 

“Byers.” Steve grunts, and you laugh before the girls get up to follow you to the table. 

All four of you, (Chrissy, Maria and Abigail) walk up slowly, making all the guys stop and look up.

“Can we sit?” You ask, watching Eddie’s face burst into an excited grin as Gareth quickly snatches a chair for Maria. Abigail and Chrissy take the last two open spots and there was no more room. 

“I can grab a chair-“ Eddie starts, already standing to grab one before you shake your head, moving to sit on his lap. 

“I’m good here.” You smile, making him smile back and kiss your shoulder through the shirt. 

“Are you coming to DnD?” Paul asks as Gareth pretends to gag at you and Eddie. 

“No, we have a game tonight that I have to cheer at. But I figured I can wear this until then.” You shrug. 

“Where’s yours Eddie?” Paul asks, glaring at the dungeon master. 

Eddie raises a brow, and the entire table seems to freeze as they slowly realize that Paul hasn’t figured it out yet, even with you in Eddie’s lap. 

“What?” He asks, looking around. 

“This is mine.” Eddie mumbles, pinching some of the fabric of your shirt between his fingers. 

“You’re wearing his shirt? Gareth, you’re gonna allow that?!” 

Another moment of silence passes before the entire table is laughing in his face, Eddie pressing his nose into your back with his hands on your hips as he cackles. 

“What’s so funny?! Gareth said none of us could date his sister!” 

“No, I said you couldn’t date my sister, nerd bomber.” Gareth laughs. 

“What does it matter?” Eddie laughs. “I thought she was Sooooo annoying!” 

He imitates Pauls voice for the last part which sends the table into another fit of laughter. 

“Don’t you have a girlfriend in canada?” Chrissy asks, turning to you. “That was him right, the one dating the model in canada?” 

“W-we broke up. I dumped her.” Paul corrects which makes the girls laugh harder. “You guys suck.” 

“And you swallow!” You snatch one of Eddie’s pretzels to throw it at his forehead, hitting him perfectly as he glares. 

“Not funny.” He mumbles, and the table absolutely loses it. 

-

You’re surprised when you see Eddie leaning against the bleachers that night, now in his hellfire shirt and leather jacket as you get ready to perform with the girls. 

When he spots you looking he sends a wink, crossing his arms as he watches the routine. When you’re done you dash over as the game starts, giving him a quick kiss. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be-?” 

“I had a couple minutes. Thought I’d come see what all the excitement was about.” He smiles, surveying the game going on from your spot in the corner. 

“What do you think?” 

“Well seems pretty boring to watch Harrington and Carver fumble around, but there was this really smoking cheerleader.” He chuckles making you roll your eyes. 

“Freak.” 

“Wannabe.” 

“Brute.” 

“Brat.” 

“Airhead.” 

“Princess.” He smiles, kissing you one more time. “You wanna come watch the campaign?” 

“I have to dance at halftime and cheer them on. You’ll tell me about it later though?” You ask, giving him your best doe eyes. 

“You got it.” He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles before shaking it so the Pom Pom shakes. “Decide on what movie for tonight?” 

“I might be willing to give Texas Chainsaw one more shot.” You smile. “I think you deserve it.” 

You already know he won’t make it 10 minutes into the movie without jumping your bones anyways. 

“I was thinking breakfast club.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” 

“Cause I might actually want to watch the movie.” You tease before Chrissy calls you. 

Giving him one more kiss before dashing to cheer with the girls, Eddie watches you for a moment before leaving to go play DND. 

The second you both are done you meet by the drama room doors so that you can go to his place for movie night, a new routine you had built up. 

Weekends were for your friends; these nights were for just you two.

TAGLIST :: (Lmk if you want removed or added for more Eddie fics.)

@h-ness1944

[jflemings]

— line drawn

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: your teenage daughter is in love for the first time but her boyfriend is a bad influence on her. when the two of you get into an argument and she says something especially hurtful, jessie snaps

warnings: a lil angst, arguing, past toxic relationship, past abusive relationship, language, talks of past and present drug use

a/n: pls pay attention to the warnings, this was heavier than i originally planned

୧ ‧₊˚ 🪻 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

“he’s a good guy!” your seventeen year old daughter madison shouts at you “you haven’t even tried to get to know him!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes “maybe we’d want to if he didn’t sneak in through your window and and decide that our house was a perfect place to smoke weed. you know the rules”

madison rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest, her face settling into a scowl that reminds you all too well of your wife “that was one time”

“the weed or sneaking through the window?” you ask sarcastically, your voice now raising to match hers.

“the weed!”

“and getting high at school, was that one time too?”

a few weeks ago you and jessie had gone up to the school after madison was caught smoking a joint on the grounds. the two of you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing when her principal told you what had happened.

as far as you knew madison had never deliberately done anything that would get her in trouble. all through her life her teachers had sung praises about how easy of a kid she was to teach, how well-behaved and respectful she was to everybody around her. that had been the truth until she started seeing her boyfriend nick.

nick had been expelled from his previous school and had even had a bit of trouble with the law, minor offences at best, but it was something that you and jessie had kept in the back of your minds when you heard through the grape vine that him and madison had begun seeing eachother.

“mum get over it, it’s not like you didn’t do it when you were my age” your daughter shoots back as she plants her hands on the kitchen table in front of her “if anything you were worse! i can’t believe you’re acting all high and mighty after the shit you and your highschool boyfriend got up to”

your eyes go wide and your grip on the top of the wooden dining chair you’re holding tightens “yeah, and you know where that got me”

“nick loves me” she tells you sternly “he wouldn’t treat me like that, and i wouldn’t let him push me around the way you did”

“excuse me?” you seethe “you have no idea what you’re talking about madison”

“you let him hit you! what more is there to kno—”

“your room. now” jessie raises her voice from where she stands at the sink behind you.

madison’s words die in her throat at the sound of jessie’s voice, the colour draining from her face as your wife turns around. “madison” she seethes, her eyes ice cold “i don’t want to see you. get out of my sight”

jessie’s calm but furious words send a chill through your daughter “mum—”

“don’t make me ask you again”

the two of them stare at eachother, jessie’s stern expression never faltering as her eyes bore into your seventeen year old. the tension in the kitchen is so thick that you feel like your throat is closing up and suffocating you. you rub a hand over the base of your neck and collarbones before madison turns and stomps up the stairs to her room, slamming the door to try to make a point.

you don’t dare look at your wife as you sit at the kitchen table, your head falling into your hands as your shoulders slump. jessie sits down in the chair next to you, abandoning the few dishes she was washing when the fight started, and lightly grips your forearm.

she gently pries your hands away from your face and holds them in her own. she runs her thumbs over your knuckles like she would when the two of you were much younger, her back and forth movement soothing your aching heart.

“i didn’t let him hit me” you say quietly “i didn’t lie down and take it”

“i know” jessie assures you, bringing your hands to her mouth and kissing your knuckles “but even if you did, it doesn’t change the fact that it wasn’t your fault”

you began dating luke in highschool and stayed with him through your first year and a half at college. the two of you were in the same english class during your junior year, and your teacher had assigned you as partners for a project. you had groaned and moaned about it to your friends at first, claiming that you wouldn’t be able to work with a guy who couldn’t even spell the word orange, but had quickly gotten over it when you saw how charming he was.

luke’s reputaion, much like nick’s, wasn’t the greatest. he had been dealing drugs and would occasionally sell to your friends whenever they wanted to get high, even on school grounds where he ended up getting caught more than once. he didn’t often go to school but if he did, he was always in trouble. starting fights, talking back, skipping class, whatever you could get in trouble for, he did.

over time that didn’t matter to you though. you got caught up in who luke could be, not who he was. you had gotten stern with him after he’d made you do all the work for your project, telling him that you were going to be informing your teacher that you had done the whole project whilst he refused to even turn up to do it. he had brushed you off and claimed that it wasn’t anything new and then spent weeks asking you to go out with him, claiming that although he had made a bad first impression he would be able to prove you wrong if you went out with him.

luke spent weeks asking you out and made promises about how he’ll take you on a real date and how he’ll get his act together if you gave him a real chance to prove himself.

you were young, naive and struggling with your sexuality and eventually, he had worn you down. you told him that if he was serious then he actually had to try and get his act together, not just make empty promises. luke had agreed and taken you out for pizza and a movie, paying for the date and doing all the cliche gentlemanly things.

he walked up to your door instead of just honking at you when he picked you up, introduced himself to your parents, opened your car door, complimented you and kept his hands to himself the whole night. he even settled for a kiss on the cheek when he dropped you off, wearing your lipgloss as a badge of honour as he bounded back to his car and pulled out of your driveway.

things were good for a while. he kept out of trouble and kept his promises to you, always showing you respect and allowing you to take the lead on many things. you lost your virginity to him two months in and he didn’t even boast about it to his friends, even after they called you a prude for not putting out right away.

the false sense of security changed you quickly after that. you got looser and started to smoke and drink with him even outside of parties your peers would throw. he’d sneak you out in the dead of night so the two of you could get high and have sex in the backseat of his beat up car, he would convince you to skip class. you had started dismissing your parents and ditching your friends for him after he got it in your head that the two of you only needed eachother.

luke also started getting more controlling. he wanted to know where you were, who you were with and what you were doing at all times. he’d start fights with boys he thought were hitting on you and then come crawling back when he realised he’s fucked up. he would apologise, promise that it wouldn’t happen again and then bring you small gifts to try to show you that he meant what he was saying.

during your senior year everything only amplified ten times more. you had lost all your friends, your grades were slipping and you and your parents were constantly fighting, it was a miracle you had even gotten into college the way you were behaving and your parents and teachers reminded you of such. it was a relief to you when you found out you got accepted and had quickly informed your boyfriend. he was happy for you at first, telling you that he’ll come visit when he can and that he’s facetime you every night.

the separation bliss only lasted for a little while before luke’s controlling nature came out again. he had the passwords to all your social media and had your location so he knew where you were. you weren’t allowed to follow any boys and he had to know all of your friends.

the first time he put his hands on you was after a party. he’d come to visit for a few days and you took him to some dirty frat that was notorious for having wild parties, you thought that maybe if you got him to loosen up a bit it would give him some peace of mind.

you were, unfortunately, very wrong.

a guy from your social studies class had made a move on you and even though you told him that you had a boyfriend, luke’s rage still overtook him. he drunkenly dragged you back to your dorm yelling and degrading you, calling you horrible names and saying how he knew he couldn’t trust you. when you actually got into your room you told him to shut up and he slapped you across the face, the stinging sensation lingered as the two of you stared at eachother before you silently got ready for bed.

he whispered apologies in your ear as you fell asleep, promising to never lay a hand on you again.

he continued to hit you when he was intoxicated and you learnt to hit him back. the first time you did it you broke his nose and he lied straight through his teeth when you took him to the hospital an hour later.

you lied for him too, even when the nurse pulled you aside and asked if you were safe.

it continued like that for months until your highschool best friend sent you a photo of luke and another girl naked in bed together. you broke up with him over the phone and told him to never contact you again. he cried and cried, pleading and begging you to stay with him until you hung up and blocked him on everything. he tried contacting you for weeks until finally giving up. only when you went back home for the summer did you find out that he had gotten the girl pregnant and that he actually ended up in jail. to this day you still think you’ve never breathed a deeper sigh of relief.

tears fall down your face as jessie takes the time to individually kiss each of your knuckles, the tender act of love fighting the violent memories that swirl in your head.

“you told her about him in confidence, as a way to warn her and keep her safe. she has no right to ever throw it back in your face” the canadian murmurs against your hand “what he did to you was not your fault”

“it was mutually abusive” you mumble as you shake your head “i was in the wrong too”

“he was high off his head most of the time. he could’ve killed you” jessie stresses as she looks into your eyes “you were protecting yourself”

you shut your eyes “jess”

“i know, sorry” she apologises quickly “do you want a cup of tea?”

you nod gratefully and jessie stands and kisses your forehead as you stare at the stairs. the part of you that was a mother longed to go up to your daughter’s room and just talk to her, but the other part of you, the part that kept you going in your hardest times, told you that you needed to stand your ground and not give in. that part was hurt. so, so hurt. you had never imagined that your own daughter could say that to you, angry or not. it was like she had taken the most vulnerable part of you and ripped it out, the feeling of betrayal stinging.

after your cup of tea, you and jessie begin to get ready for bed. she checks in on your younger daughter alex and bids her goodnight before coming back into your bedroom. she swaps out her sleep shirt for a jumper and slides under the covers next to you, pulling you into her and holding you tightly.

she kisses you shoulder lightly and tells you over and over how much she loves you, how much she absolutely adores you, lulling you to sleep with her gentle words and tight hold.

——

the next morning you and jessie rise with the sun. she goes for her morning run as you shower and get ready for work, packing lunches and making breakfast as alex bounds down the stairs. she talks your ear off about what she’s got planned for her day and what she’s planning to do this weekend with her friends. she eats happily and chooses to ignore the solum mood that’s rolling off her older sister as she walks into the kitchen.

madison is quiet as she makes her own coffee and makes herself a plate of bacon and fruit. the two of you share the same space without speaking, the tension from the night before has bled dry and been replaced with an awkward energy that hangs over your head heavily.

you can’t look at her. you can’t look at her because you know can’t tell if you’ll start crying or yelling. it pains you to feel like that towards your own daughter, your first born, the child who made you a mother.

it was even harder because the freckles that dusted her cheeks were all too similar to the ones you had traced a million times over. she was a spitting image of jessie, the two of them looking so similar that there had been times where people had asked you if she was actually yours. her expressions, her mannerisms, everything down the the way she walked was jessie and at times like this, it killed you.

“babe, did you see the morrisons are moving?” jessie asks loudly as she walks in the front door. you hear her take off her shoes and put them on the rack by the door “i wonder if it’s because he got that job in boston”

madison turns at the sound of her mother’s voice, almost expecting to be scolded. jessie merely spares her a glance before continuing “good for them, starting a family and all. hope it goes well”

“so concerned about another family when you’re ignoring your own” madison mumbles under her breath.

your wife pauses and you shut your eyes tightly “madison” you mumble tiredly. you had stupidly thought that maybe she’d sleep the argument off and wake up in a better mood, one that means the four of you start your days civilly.

“what? she didn’t even say hi to me as she walked in!”

alex rolls her eyes “stop being dramatic. she didn’t say hi to me either”

“shut up alex” your oldest hisses “this isn’t about you”

“no, you’re right. it’s about you and your dropkick boyfriend!” alex exclaims, standing and grabbing her plate before walking to the sink “maybe if you pulled your head out of his ass and realised you’re being a bitch to mum, you’d know that!”

you unintentionally slam your coffee cup down onto the counter “alexandra” you say calmly, shaking off the coffee that spilt onto your hand “enough, please. go get ready for school”

jessie, who has been surprisingly quiet, leans against the entry way to the kitchen and watches alex walk out and up to her room. she huffs “you gonna cut the attitude of what” she asks “because i’m sick of your shit. the disrespect isn’t gonna fly in this house and you know it”

madi leans against the counter and kicks her socked feet against the floor. she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even look at either of you, but she stays. jessie takes it as a sign to continue.

“you owe your mother an apology, a genuine apology. you don’t know the full story and you have no right throwing it back in her face the way you did last night” jessie continues, coming off the wall to lean over the kitchen table “maybe if you gave us a reason to like nick we would, but so far all you’ve done is break our rules and disrespect our house. the sneaking out, the drugs, getting into trouble at school — it stops now. all of it.”

your daughter stands there with her hands tucked in between her back and the counter just looking at jessie as she gets an earful, her expressionless face never once faltering under jessie’s hard gaze.

“you won’t know what to do in a situation like that unless you get yourself in that position, and for you to outright say that your mum let that happen to her is appalling, madison, truely” jessie shakes her head “you don’t have the right”

the silence sits heavily over the room, the suffocating feeling from last night once again returning. all you want to do is walk out of the room and go to work so you can distract yourself from the feeling of betrayal that has settled heavily on your heart.

your wife remains unmoving like stone. her face is neutral but her eyes betray her, her own hurt and anger swirling in her brown irises like whirlpools. the image reminds you of when she was still playing football, the determined look she’d get before an important game now moulding onto her face seventeen years later.

madi turns to you, tears welling in her eyes “i’m sorry mum, i’m so sorry” she apologises, still glued to her spot “i regretted it as soon as i thought about it. i should’ve never said it and me being angry isn’t an excuse for bringing it up”

all you can do is meekly nod as you allow her to get out her apology, knowing that if she doesn’t the feelings will sit with her for the rest of the day.

“i was angry, and i thought you guys weren’t hearing me out, and i snapped. i crossed a line that i shouldn’t have even gotten close too and all i did was hurt you” she says breathily as she plays with the hem of her sleep shirt “you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry”

“i can’t tell you i forgive you right now because i don’t, but i hope you know that all we’re doing is trying to look out for you. we want you to be safe, and i want you to learn from my past mistakes” you explain gently, moving next to her to put a hand on her shoulder “you need to reign the attitude in though. no more of the bullshit. it stops now”

she nods quickly “it will, i swear”

“you can’t see nick for now” jessie pipes up again, quickly putting her hand up when madison goes to protest “no, i don’t want to hear it. you crossed a line and you’ll be punished for it”

madison refrains from huffing as her hands fall to her sides “okay” she says quietly

“the trust has to be earned back and when it is then we’ll discuss where we go from there” you reason in a softer tone “you need to pull yourself back into line”

“i will. i promise”

you and jessie share a long, wordless look before you wave madison off. she takes her plate and ducks her head as she passes jessie, going back up the stairs to her room.

jessie let’s a breath go before walking over to you. her arms loop around your waist and yours fall over her shoulders “that’s a step” she whispers into your temple “i still don’t like him”

“neither do i” you whisper “all we can do is hope that she feels safe enough to come to us if she needs to”

“she’s got a good head on her shoulders”

“my parents said the same thing about me” you whisper whilst pulling away “i just hope we’ve done enough”

jessie tilts her head before kissing you on the lips “i think you’re forgetting that we’re still learning how to be parents” she murmurs against you “you need to take a load off”

one of your hands comes up to hold her jaw delicately “we share the load”

she brushes hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear before holding the side of your head securely “i love you” she says “and i am so proud of you”

you kiss her again “i love you more”.

[01zfan]

beanbag | l. sh & l. at

bestfriend!sohee + anton x bestfriend!reader | 6.1k words

after hearing yall wanted this i took a crack at my second threesome fic everrrrr hope you like :3

contains: smoking, high sex, threesomes

sohee and anton were never popular. they were quiet children and decided from a very young age that they would never try to become cool. they ended up finding humor in the times they were picked last for sports, bonding over they were ostracized by their peers. 

they met you the same way. a little girl playing by herself on the playground, her toys being her only friends. making friends was hard for anton and sohee, but it came naturally when they talked to you. before they knew it you guys were a trio, okay with being unpopular as long as you guys had eachother.

things didn’t start changing until junior high. you still weren’t sure how to describe it. all you knew was that you started the summer as an outcast but came back to school as someone everyone wanted to know. you made it into the good graces of the popular kids and teachers, becoming a class favorite. it wasn’t long until you were invited to outings every weekend, spending time with people outside of your small circle. 

anton and sohee changed too. anton hit a growth spurt that had him towering above his peers and sohee ended up joining clubs and focusing on academics. the three of you were no longer inseparable like you were as kids, but you remained by eachothers side. more times than not you found yourself hanging out with them over your new friends.

your popularity didn’t stop, even when you graduated. it was the summer now, everyone was trying to have as much fun as they could before leaving town to go to college. you had spent a majority of the summer at shitty pool parties and driving around aimlessly, trying to find out where the next shitty pool party would be. when you got a text from anton in your three-person groupchat that he wanted to hang out as a trio again you were over the moon. you were over at anton’s house in less than an hour, walking through his empty house down to the basement to your usual hangout.

sohee and anton were already there when you arrived. they were talking about something unimportant, the topic dropped the moment they heard you coming down the stairs. they got up and pulled you into a group hug, talking about how it’s been too long. you pulled away from them and took it in. already they had changed, looking like adults getting ready to go to college.

“congratulations on graduating,” you realized you haven’t seen them since the ceremony. “we actually did it.” 

anton and sohee both cheered, happy to have the years of school behind them. none of you knew what college would be like, and none of you knew what the next chapters of your lives would look like. all you three knew was that you would be experiencing it alone. for the first times in your lives you three wouldn’t be going to school together. it was daunting, and you truthfully wished it didn’t have to be that way. but now was the time to grow up and leave your childhood behind you. 

sohee and anton knew it too, that’s why they didn’t try to bring up the future too much. the past might've been to painful too. that's why they reached into their bags to pull out stashes of weed, talking about how they had to smoke it down before going off to college.

when the two revealed the entertainment for the night would be pre-rolled joints you were pleasantly surprised. you didn’t take anton or sohee as the type to partake in drugs, but the smile on their faces told you different. sohee brought paraphernalia of his own, hidden in the depths of his backpack. he expertly rolled another joint as anton lit his. 

when anton lit up in his basement you couldn’t control your expression. you were wide eyed and in shock, thinking about the kind of reaction anton’s parents would have if they came downstairs and smelled the weed. in a basement nonetheless, the smell would be trapped down there for days. even sohee looked surprised, thinking they would go out to the secluded garden to smoke. 

anton took in both of your faces before taking a quick hit. he stood up and you and sohee followed behind him, making your way towards the small window in the basement. sohee opened the egress window for anton and he blew out the smoke before handing the joint to sohee.

“i have all week to get the smell out of here, so don’t stress it.” anton said with a smile on his face.

that was all you and sohee needed. it wasn’t long before smoke clouds were loosely being pointed out the window, subsequently filling the basement with a haze. 

lighting two joints at once was an interesting choice, the three of you constantly passing two of them back and forth. the rotation was confusing, making all three of you giggle from the novelty of it all. there would be moments where someone would have both of the joints, taking a drag from both at the same time. you three stopped trying to blow the smoke out the window. your legs had gotten tired from standing, all three of you falling into the basement furniture and nodding to the music.

when the joints were done, your friends eyes had started to get low and bleary but you felt like you could keep going. the three of you all looked to eachother, trying to silently gauge how high everyone else was. sohee reached for his backpack. when sohee pulled out his bong it was like you guys were kids again. memories of coming over to anton’s house to play with a new toy filled your mind. the way you guys settled into the furniture was the same, all of you assuming your old positions. anton was nestled into the beanbag, sohee chose the beat up chair and you settled on the couch. not much had changed—the only difference was that you guys were gawking over sohee’s new glass bong instead of the nerdy things from your childhood. 

“how much?” anton asked quietly.

he was too afraid to hold it, only staring at it from afar. sohee had moved from his chair to sit close to anton, letting him have a better look. you moved down the couch, getting closer to the show and tell.

“i did mark’s work for the whole semester to get this.” sohee said.

he was proud of it, placing the bong in the light to show it refracting through the glass. the dark blue and clean blown glass splayed on the carpet in front of you guys. all of you were mesmerized, anton even taking a picture of the carpet for safe keeping. you three were like kids again, asking questions and holding it up to the light to see through it.

“should we use it?” sohee asked, eyebrows high looking at you and anton.

you and anton looked at eachother, and then you and sohee looked at anton. the looks were mischievous, waiting for someone to finally fold and say lets do it. you were the one that nodded your head first, reaching for anton’s weed so he’d get the hint as the designated bowl packer to get to work. anton was quick even though he was gentle with the bong, scared that he would break it. while anton did that sohee went upstairs, bringing down water and snacks for later.

when sohee returned the three of you settled into your huddle, getting ready to pass the bong around. sohee lit it for you first, the two of them watching with hooded eyes as you took it all in. you pulled out the bowl and passed it to sohee quickly, letting him breathe in the remainder of the smoke that was still in the neck of the bong. you lit it for anton after nearly coughing a lung out. 

by the time the weed in the bowl became ash, you were more than high. everything was moving slowly, and the lulling beat of the music made you feel like you were moving. anton and sohee were effected the same, setting the bong aside once they were done. 

anton was settled into the beanbag while you laid on your side on the carpet, nodding your head to the music. the three of you were silent, letting the weed take over to let your bodies fully relax. anton stretched his leg. out, playfully hitting your shoulder with his foot. you tilted your head to look at him, eyes low with a smile on his face.

“thanks for coming over.” anton said.

you nodded your head, playfully slapping his foot away.

“i wouldn’t miss this. besides i never see you guys anymore.” you say, sighing dramatically.

when you hear sohee scoff you look to him laying on the couch. you hit his knee, trying to get him to talk.

“got something you wanna say?” you ask.

sohee rubs his knee, before sinking more into the couch.

“you’re the one that’s too busy now to hang out with us.” sohee says.

you look to anton and he nods in agreement. he picks at his nails for a second before looking to you again.

“always hanging out with the popular kids.” anton says.

“even those annoying jocks” sohee agrees.

that’s when you get up and look at your two friends in surprise. they always seemed stuck to eachother like glue, where one went to other followed. hearing that they don’t hang out as much as they used to confused you. sohee leaned his head against the back of the couch and laughed.

“only because i’m trying to have fun before i go off to college.” you look back to the ceiling.

“what type of fun?” sohee asks.

you hit his knee again, and you can hear anton behind you hold back a laugh.

”wouldn’t you like to know, you little pervert.” you joke.

“we heard about you and that guy on the basketball team.” sohee tells you. 

“and what did you hear?” you ask.

when sohee is goes silent you look to anton. he tries so hard not to say anything, but when you move towards anton he caves immediately.

”we heard that you guys ya know,” anton looks to sohee and then to you. “did it.” anton says finally.

you just shake your head, trying not to show how embarrassed you are. you were so close to sealing the deal with eunseok, someone you found yourself pining after for the better half of the school year. but nothing came from it, putting you in the position of being someone with the bare minimum of experiences on your way to college.

“we didn’t do anything.” your hand starts mindlessly picking at the fabric of the couch. “cool that rumor spread though.” you say.

sohee comes down from the couch, a hand going to your shoulder to try and make you feel better. a smile is on his face as he shakes you gently, getting you to face him.

“it’s okay dude.” sohee points towards anton on the beanbag. “anton is still a virgin.” sohee says.

you laugh when you hear anton move from the beanbag to try and hit sohee. you end up leaning back to give anton the space but he misses sohee, only hitting a part of his shoulder.

while the two still argue, you go back to pickign at the carpet. you think about all the things you haven’t gotten to experience yet before leaving, some of the fun you’ve been missing out on. you look at sohee and anton, two of your bestest friends and your two confidants. you can stop yourself from clearing your throat and looking at the two of them.

“are you actually, anton?” you ask quietly.

anton and sohee pull away from their tussle to look at you.

“am i what?” anton asks.

“a virgin?” you answer.

instantly, you can see the blush on anton’s face. it starts on his neck and goes to his face in splotches, ending at his ears. you can even see sohee get a little red, the tips of his ears becoming rosy.

“not totally. there was that time after prom.” anton says.

he sounds far away, his hand scratching the back of his neck shyly. he ends his sentence with an awkard laugh when you nod your head sympathetically.

“i haven’t done that much either.” you say.

“me neither.” sohee says.

even though sohee and anton’s eyes go wide, it’s true. none of you had done anything besides heavy petting and making out with someone until your jaw started locking. none of you were nearly as well versed as your peers. you thought about going to college, how everyone there would be lightyears ahead of you in terms of intimacy. you look to your two bewildered friends. maybe if one of you guys made a move it that could change.

you shift from your spot on the carpet. anton and sohee instantly perk up, watching your every move. they see how you stand on your knees and clear your throat, suddenly so dry from nervousness and the weed. you put a slow hand on sohee’s knee, he follows your hand all the way up to your face. you look to sohee and then to anton. sohee looks to anton and then you. 

“do you think we can?” you ask outloud.

sohee nods while anton remains still on the beanbag. sohee doesn’t waste anytime looking at his friend before going behind you. sohee out of your line of sight makes all your attention go to anton. his face only gets redder as you slowly make your way over to him, guiding by sohee behind you.

you experimentally crawled over to anton on the beanbag, cautiously reaching out your hand. you let it rest on his thigh lightly, gliding your hand repeatedly over the small space. anton was still confused, his previously hooded eyes were stretched wide as he tried to figure out what was happening. sohee had gone behind you at some point, using gentle fingers to stretch the collar of your shirt to touch your neck and shoulder. 

sohee’s touches only egged you on, until your hands had gotten more desperate. you moved your other hand to anton’s thigh to move your hand lightly. when he looked at you and squirmed underneath your touch, you halted your movements.

“is this okay, anton?” sohee asked from behind you.

sohee was only half paying attention, asking the question between kisses on your neck and shoulder. but his question pulled you from your trance. you took your hands away, afraid that you had gone to far. but anton placed his hands over yours before nodding quickly. he brought them further up until they rested over his front pockets. the sudden movement brought you forward, causing sohee to press his body closer to yours.

you were face to face with anton now, breath fanning his face. you looked down at your hands only for a second—they were so close to touching his dick. the music that played on the basement speakers was long forgotten. the blood rushing through your ears and the sound of sohee’s lips against your skin was the only music you needed.

“if you won’t, switch places with me.” sohee said to anton.

that was all anton needed before bringing you closer to him. your noses touched first, pressing together until he timidly kissed you.

it was slow and the pacing was uneven, suddenly both of you were painfully aware that anton didn’t know what he was doing and you were out of practice. 

you brought a hand to anton’s chin to hold him in place while you silently guide him through kissing. you took your time, letting each kiss linger on his lips as you progressively deepened it. anton was a fast learner but shy; his grip of your triceps told you he wanted to take charge but was too nervous to do it. your mind quickly ran through the small list of girls that anton had talked about over the years. you don’t think any of his crushes led to anything more than hopeless pining. you know it’s true when anton starts whimpering into your mouth, so overwhelmed and sensitive just from you slowly kissing him. when he sticks his tongue in your mouth you suck on it, and his grip on your arm almost becomes bruising. sohee stops kissing your neck but you can feel his hand go down your back.

you don’t know if it’s the weed that makes you sloppy, but when you pull away from anton the lower part of his face is glossy from spit. you wipe your own face with the back of your hand when he reaches out a tongue to swipe over his already wet lips.

“sorry.” you say sheepishly.

”don’t apologize.” anton says.

anton is breathless, and when you look down you feel your own words leave you. he is straining in his jean shorts, the outline of his hard didck visible through the denim. sohee sees it too, laughing before kissing your neck again.

“he likes it.” sohee says from behind you.

you give anton another kiss on the lips and pull away fast. you revel in his eyes that are still closed when you pull away and how he brings his lips forward in efforts to follow you. 

anton’s eyes are still closed when you turn your body to face sohee. his lips are already wet, his hair pushed away from his face as he looks at you. sohee is bolder than anton, guiding your body onto the beanbag to sit in between anton’s legs. sohee doesn’t hesitate until your back is pressed against anton’s chest. you have to pull him in the same way you did anton, but your gentle hand starts shaking from the anticipation building all over you. 

seeing you nervous makes the playing field even. you keep a hand on sohee’s shoulder as he makes out with you, and you have a hand on anton’s thigh as he breathes heavily behind you. both of their hands are all over your body, sneaking underneath your shirt and grasping your chest. you feel their hands on your thighs, pushing and pulling you like tug-of-war. you can feel anton’s arm snake around your waist to keep you close.

sohee’s lips distract you and the weed makes you all three move in a daze. the sound of kissing and moving on the beanbag fills the air as your three clumsily make-out. there’s a moment where sohee tilts his head to the same side where anton kisses your neck. their forehead touch, and the two of them look at eachother simultaneously. while sohee is distracted, anton brings his hand that cups your chest over your shirt to tilt your head towards him. 

anton brings you in for another kiss, instantly putting his tongue in your mouth. sohee takes it in stride, going to suck on the parts anton couldn’t reach. sohee’s hands started knead your chest while anton starts feeling your sides. his hand that was holding your chin started covering the expanse of your neck. something inside of you almost wants him to squeeze, but there will be chances for that in the future. feeling anton’s large hand gently on your neck is more than enough.

both of their hands are rushed and both were testing out various kinds of pressure. you were experimenting yourself, purposefully moving your hips back to press your ass against anton’s dick while guiding sohee’s hands underneath your shirt. 

sohee took the extra step to pull your shirt over your head, forcing you to pull apart from anton. anton’s eyes lingered on your lips for a second before flickering down to stare at your bra. parts of your chest peaked over the top and spilled from the bottom from the movement. both sohee and anton’s eyes were only staring, not daring to reach a hand out to grasp you. you felt yourself melting underneath their gaze, letting your head fall back until it rested on anton’s shoulder.

“both of you touch me.” you spread your legs on the beanbag to allow sohee to come closer. “please.” you begged.

for the first time ever, anton made the first move. his hand that was pawing at your sides confidently grabbed a handful of your chest, squeezing your skin roughly. sohee followed suit, mirroring what his bestfriend was doing on the other side. you closed your eyes and leaned even further into anton’s broad chest, already overwhelmed by the feeling. you could feel anton’s strong and broad chest against your back and his twitching dick against your ass.

“you’re perfect.” anton whispered underneath his breath. 

you moaned to let anton know you heard him, and you moan again when sohee pulls your bra down by the straps to free your chest. he tweaks your nipple until you grasp his arm from the pain. anton presses soft kisses to your cheek while sohee pulls your bra down your body slowly. your breasts are free, and sohee hesitates only for a moment before latching his mouth to your nipple.

your back arches instantly into sohee’s mouth, and sohee places a hand on your back to support you. now sohee and anton are actively pulling your body in two different directions, making you bring your head up from anton’s shoulder.

“are you guys fighting over me right now?” you ask.

the weed makes all three of you giggle. the situation is insane, completely unlike all of your personalities to do this. your question serves as a buffer, forcing the three of you to really comprehend what is happening. your shirt is off and your bra is pulled down to your stomach, sohee’s lips are kissed swollen and anton is painfully hard in his jeans. 

you settle into the beanbag, placing hands on anton’s thighs as you steady yourself. you look at sohee, and then crane your head to look at anton. the two never took their hands off of you, touching you affectionately while you get comfortable.

“what do you want us to do?” anton asked.

sohee and anton’s hands found their way to your legs. they both press into your thigh and calves. when sohee tugs at the end of your pants you lift your hips.

“take my pants off.” you say.

sohee continues to pull at the end of your pants while anton makes work of the button on the top of your jeans. he’s quick, too quick that it causes him to fumble. you look back again to see anton staring at you, eyes sleepy and clown out. you try to mirror his look while your hands go over his wrists, forcing him to slow down. 

when your pants are off and you are left in just your panties, the two go back to feeling every part of your body. now you have the exposed skin of your thighs, soft and supple underneath their sluggish hands. the weed from the bond must’ve hit, making all of you more relaxed. you let out a shaky breath before going back to anton’s lips. anton is preoccupied, too busy pressing his fingers into your clothed heat. anton and sohee take turns, switching between smacking your waistband against your skin and spreading your legs further. when you feel your panties getting pushed to the side, you let out a hiss. you pull away from anton and look down at sohee between your legs.

“can i finger you?” sohee asks.

the straightforwardness has you feeling bashful. you nod your head, not being able to use words before anton brings you back to his lips.

anton sticks his otngue into your mouth the same time sohee puts a finger inside of you. you can only take what anton gives you, sloppy kisses that leave your face wet. all of your attention is put towards sohee’s pretty fingers that disappear into your cunt. the wet sounds of kissing and fingering fills the space of anton’s stuffy basement. you’re whining into anton’s mouth when sohee puts another finger in. anton pulls away from your lips, looking down at what sohee is doing to you.

“can i try?” anton asks.

he’s still sheepish, his hand doesn’t slink down your body until you nod your head. sohee kisses your stomach as he settles further down your body, not taking out his fingers. instead sohee only guides anton’s finger in with his when he pulls his digits out. you can’t stop yourself from clamping around the three fingers, all of you gasping at the feeling.

“so tight.” anton whispers.

“look.” sohee says.

neither of you are sure who he is talking to, but you both look down anyway. sohee puts his hand on anton’s wrist, stopping him from pumping his finger back in. the three of you look down at your cunt, closing in on nothing as it pulses like a heartbeat. anton’s dick twitches against your ass again as the three of you continue to watch. you get impatient, pinching their fingers together before wiggling your hips. the two get the hint, pumping their fingers back into your heat again. when they are still slow, you start guiding their fingers in and out of you at a faster pace.

“faster.” you whimper. 

the beanbag caused you to slip further down anton’s body. your head is just above his heart now, hearing it thud in his chest as he picks up the pace. when you dig your fingers into sohee’s bicep he hisses in pain, and you dig your other hand into anton’s thigh. neither of them stop, driven by the way your body shudders. they both have tunnelvision on the way you react to them, that they are caught by surprised when you wrap your legs around sohee. your legs bring him in close, and your arm reaches up to grab onto anton’s shoulder for stability. you are a moaning mess, pulling down on anton with so much force he hunches over your forehead. anton and sohee are too speechless to talk, only grunting and whimpering as they focus on fucking their fingers into you at the same pace. the wet sound and you whining overtakes the song that changed on the speakers.

“i’m cumming.” you whine.

sohee and anton only go faster. sohee looks up at your breasts, how your hardened nipples bounce from the momentum. even though you bite your lip the sound comes through. you open your eyes briefly when you feel anton’s hair brush your face. your heads are pressed side by side and anton’s hand pressing into your stomach keeps you in place. you can hear anton’s quiet moans, how he’s getting more and more pent up seeing, hearing, and feeling your release. you hear sohee same something and anton places a gentle kiss to your cheek, pulling his finger out of your heat to let sohee fuck you through your orgasm. 

sohee takes charge, using his other hand to press down on your clit. it’s a different sensation, almost painful from the stimulation you’re already receiving. anton uses his free hand to grab your breasts, being the roughest you’ve ever seen him.

when you are spent, you legs wrapped around sohee loosens and your hand falls from anton’s shoulder. you are a huffing mess, gasping for air when sohee pulls his fingers out of you. the weed and post orgasm pulls at your eyelids, but you keep them open to look at sohee in front of you. he’s worried, kissing your cheeks and massaging your twitching legs. your body is almost out of energy, but when you see sohee’s dick jump in his shorts you open your mouth.

“are there condoms?” you ask.

you have to swallow spit and lick your mouth to try and wet it. you only think for a second how ridiculous you three must look. mussed hair and flushed faces, all panting looking to one another as you try to figure out who was a condom. you can practically see the lightbulb go off over sohee’s head when he remembers he is always prepared.

“in my backpack.” sohee points to his back behind anton and anton reaches for it instantly. “i think.” sohee says.

while anton rummages through all the things in sohee’s bag sohee stands up, pulling his layered long-sleeve and short-sleeve shirt over his head in one go. you look up to watch him, the setting sun casts perfectly on his face. the ray of sun that comes through the tiny window lights up the space. you can see the dander floating around in the room, moving harshly in the wind as sohee kicks off his pants and socks. sohee’s gaze pierces through the sun, staring at you as he’s finished getting undressed. sohee is left in his underwear when he comes back down to his knees in front of you. anton dumps out the contents of sohee’s bag on the floor in a haste, moving things around not being able to find a condom.

sohee’s bag is thrown somewhere, and anton reluctantly lets go of you so he can get undressed himself. he stands up from the beanbag and you move forward, standing on your knees the same way sohee does. his hand comes to your hips and yours goes to his face, swiping a finger on his moles like they might disappear. he pulls you in for a kiss, and you can hear anton’s clothes hitting the ground behind you. you can hear the beanbag move too as anton comes behind you. he presses lips to your clammy shoulders and neck in the same places sohee kissed. anton’s hands go to your thighs, spreading them out slightly so he can come closer to you. one of sohee’s hands goes to your chin, tilting your head upwards so he can get a better angle. you can feel yourself becoming overwhelmed again, almost knocking you off your feet when you feel anton’s dick press against your ass. he gasps behind you, so sensitive from your bare skin touching his sensitive bare dick.

sohee pulls away from your lips, looking at anton behind you with the same look.

“you’re too impatient.” sohee says.

any attempt at a scolding goes right over anton’s head. you can feel anton smile against the back of your head when he ruts against your ass.

“if you won’t, i will.” anton remarks.

both you and sohee laugh at anton using sohee’s words against him.

“look at you being snippy.” you try to sound light and playful but your voice comes out sickly sweet.

“almost thought you were older than me for a second.” sohee says.

anton only hums against your head, moving his hips languidly against the swell of your ass. your hand goes behind your head to fist anton’s hair, sighing out in between the space of you and sohee. sohee looks to all of his things spread out on the floor, looking slightly annoyed. you go to kiss sohee’s neck while he scans the pile, not seeing what he needs. 

“i don’t have any condoms.” sohee says regretfully.

you hum against sohee’s neck, placing an open mouthed kiss before pulling away. anton still rubs against your ass, his fingers digging roughly into your hip bones.

“we can still have fun.” you say.

youlet your hand go underneath the waistband of sohee’s boxers. you touch his tip first, feeling the precum that wets the thin fabric of his underwear. you rub it around, teasing sohee enough until he pulls his boxers down to his knees. you grab sohee’s shaft and squeeze the same way he squeezed your chest, looking down at him slightly as he closes his eyes in bliss. sohee is more pliant now, even bringing a hand to your shoulder to find stability. when you start pumping his length sohee puts a hand over antons then above it when he realizes the spot is taken. you have to pair of hands with a death grip on you, and you are being pulled backwards towards anton as he becomes more wound up. you take your time with sohee, trying to coax out the whimpers he was hiding from you earlier.

“you’re gonna miss me, right guys?” you ask. 

you look at sohee while you ask the question, but both of the boys whine affirmatives.

“so much.” anton whimpers.

“so so so much.” sohee agrees.

you smile before placing a quick kiss to sohee’s lips. you look down at hard dick in your hand, glistening in the setting sun. it’s close enough to the bong that your hand is painted by the sun coming through the stained glass. the sight is so pretty, almost as pretty as your two friends you’re sandwiched between. 

“i’ll miss you guys too.” you whine.

your hand around sohee picks up the pace, and he walks forward on his knees until his tip presses against your stomach. he’s needy, fucking your hand with such vigor his tip pokes your bellybutton. this sohee is so different from the one that was teasing anton earlier. any attempt the three of you guys have tried to become the dominant one fails terribly. it’s reminiscent of the relationship you guys have had over the years, how none of you guys have a “leader”. that’s what set you apart from every other friend group, and that’s what is driving the three of you guys over the edge together. you are helping the other feel good, driven solely by weed and the tightening coil in the pits of your stomachs. 

sohee grabs anton’s hand on your waist and pulls it down to your heat. you’re still sensitive everywhere, shaking above their hands when they start gliding their fingers up and down your folds. sohee focuses on your clit and spreading your folds open while anton fingers your from behind. he’s fast and hits deep, mimicking the thrusts he takes against your ass. 

“i’m gonna cum.” anton whispers.

his voice is still gentle and sweet, almost pitiful as he confesses he’s going to finish first. his words are interrupted with gasps and whimpers when he finds a new way to stimulate himself against your body.

“fuck. me too.” sohee follows after him.

their fingers inside of you are hurried, trying to get you to join them as fast as possible. it’s pitiful, the three of you so close together as you all try to desperately make the others feel good. you are all lost in the feeling, only coming back to reality when sohee bends forward to press his teeth into your shoulder.

“oh my god.” you moan.

when you moan loudly, it gives sohee and anton the indication to do the same. anton no longer moans quietly into your shoulder or beside your ear. he means past your shoulder into sohee’s space while he uses his free hand to press his dick against your ass cheek. he’s fucking his with such force is pushes you forward, forcing your free hand to hold onto sohee for stability. sohee continues to fuck your hand and kiss the bite mark he left, moaning into your ear repeating how close he is. his fingers on your clit lose their steady pace, now just trying to overstimulate you.

the three of you are moaning in unison when you finally begin to feel release. you can feel anton slow his thrusts as hot cum spurts onto your side and dribbles onto your ass and thighs. you can feel him slow down behind you, pressing the top of his sweaty head to your back as he looks down at what he’s done. he is still moaning from the aftershocks, almost overstimulated himself when he uses his dick to move the cum around on your ass. 

sohee moves a hand from your shoulder to wrap around your hand. he makes you squeeze harder and move your hand faster. he is silent, letting the tension build over him for a second until he can’t bear it anymore. sohee pants your stomach as you both look down and moan. you follow after your two bestfriends solely from the sight and hearing them finish on either side of you. it’s overstimulating, causing your thighs to shake as you lean to sohee for support. anton’s hands hold onto you to help you steady as you feel yourself coming undone again. your eyes are screwed shut, and you curse while saying their names.

you’re still shaking when sohee and anton guide you down to the rug underneath your knees. you three are all trying to regain composure, breathing through your noses. 

all three of you are side by side on your backs staring at the ceiling of the basement. you focus on the music, letting the heavy bass that shakes the floor bring you back down to earth. you sneak quick glances at your two friends on either side of you. their chests still heave as they stare at the ceiling too, blissed out looks on their faces. you’re sure you look the same, despite your shaking legs and sudden shudders. anton’s eyes are closed and his hands clench at his sides. sohee smiles and opens his eyes first, hands resting on his stomach.

“we should do this next summer too.” sohee laughs.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Green

Chapter Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Chapter Summary: Jackson believes in a green future, which includes marijuana. You like to get high. Tonight, Joel joins you and you get to treat him like he treats you. Chapter Warnings: Smut, marijuana use, soft dom reader, sub Joel, m receiving oral, unprotected p in v, riding Joel's thick thigh, you bite Joel's stomach (because it has to be done), Joel watching himself masturbate in your mirror, Joel drinks water out of your hands. Words: 5,100 Pairing: Jackson Joel Miller x Female Reader Series Summary: Life in Jackson is quite comfortable and simple for you. You love teaching your students and running your library, you love the comforts of living here, perfectly complacent with the company of your two cats, guitar, tattered CD book, and a few friends. You like comfortable and simple, though the feelings you feel whenever you see Joel Miller are quite the opposite. Once you meet him, it seems like he needs you in his life as much as you need him. Reader Background: Reader is in her 30's and comes from Colorado. No other physical descriptors besides her having long enough hair to put up. A/N: Happy 4/20! Wanted to give you another entry akin to Golden Walkway, a little peek into the future again of these two.

Masterlist Playlist

Times never change instead of hiding your illicit use from your parents, now you hide it from a teenager. Joel and you always going to your your house so you can get high, just in case Ellie needs something. Can’t be a bad influence.

“So you never really smoked much?” you ask as you pull the box of papers and weed out of the drawer before sitting down on your couch. You lean over your coffee table removing its contents and start to build your joint.

“Mm, never really was my thing, too risky if I got caught growing up in Texas during the Regan years. Had football eligibility to worry about ‘n then Sarah came, just never was the time for me.” Joel says as he leans back into your armchair his brown eyes intently watching your actions. You begin to crumble weed up and place it on your rolling paper. 

“Ah, makes sense. It’s good for me when my nerves really get to me,” you begin to roll your joint, “helps kinda soften the harsh lines of reality a lot. Makes my body and my mind a little freer.”

You lick your cigarette closed and admire your handiwork, welcoming the anticipation of being with Joel while you’re stoned. 

You grab a match, strike it against the box and spark your joint, rotating it in your mouth to light it up. Joel chuckles as you inhale the first hit. 

“What’s so funny?” You ask in a cloud of your smoke as you exhale.

“Nothing. Maybe I should get high. Making me hard just watching you do this.”

“Oh yeah?” You sit back. 

“Yeah, maybe I should start. Never was one for smoking though.”

“Hm, I can help. I can just blow the smoke into your mouth if you want to try it.” You lean forward wanting him to take you up on your offer.

“Sounds good sweetheart,” he nods and pats his lap. “Come sit with me, have nowhere to be tomorrow.”

You rest the joint between your lips, stand and grab the ashtray. Your bare feet pad across the plush carpet of the area rug as you walk over to Joel. 

“Hi,” you smile out with a small puff of smoke. 

“You look so cute like this, little cigarette sticking out of your mouth, eyes all cloudy and happy. Love it when my girl is happy.”

You giggle at his compliment as you lift your leg up to rest on the chair, your foot tightly fitting within what little room is left on the seat between Joel’s thick thighs. He looks up at you, his mouth slightly agape his usual furrowed brow a lot less creased, more relaxed.

“I am happy,” you answer as his hands begin to massage your calf. “You look a lot less grumpier than you normally look. That makes me happy.”

“Oh really?” 

“Yep,” you say before inhaling another hit. 

“Why don’t you make me happier and sit on my lap, that’d make me really happy darlin’.”

Turning your head to the side you blow out a plume of smoke as you place yourself on Joel’s lap, knees bent against his thighs and the armrests. You can feel the denim covered shape of his half hard cock against your cotton shorts. Your tits underneath your faded and holey t-shirt are right at Joel’s eye level. 

“S’nice,” he says staring forward at your chest. 

“My eyes are up here Joel,” you begin to laugh at your own joke, as you take another hit. You’re so high and happy, you’ve never been stoned and in love, it feels amazing.

“I’d tell you to knock it off, but your whole body’s shaking against me ’n your tits are bouncing in my face,” Joel grins as he kisses a breast through your shirt. 

Fuck, now that feels amazing. 

“Hold this,” you direct, handing him the joint. 

He takes it between his fingers and watches as you lean back and remove your shirt. His eyes widening as he concentrates on your actions, so much for relaxed Joel. He holds up the joint, still in his hands, to your lips.

“Take a hit baby,” his voice gravels out, his cock hardening underneath, “‘n lemme have some.”

You inhale and move your mouth to his, forming a tight seal between the two of you. Joel welcomes the smoke and sucks in as you blow out. 

You grab the joint from him as he exhales, a white cloud of smoke floating above the two of you. You take another pull off the joint, your body already feeling much lighter, your brain less complicated. 

“Can I have that back?” Joel asks. “Want to do the same you did for me.”

You smile a silent agreement and hand him the joint, now a short stub. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it between his thumb and pointer, his large fingers making it practically disappear save for the glowing orange embers that light as he takes a hit. He looks so fucking tempting as his cheeks slightly puff out. Everything Joel Miller does is hot, but the way he drags on a joint, his pillowy lips wrapping around the white paper, the way his broad shoulders rise as he breathes in, this might just be the hottest you’ve ever seen him. When will you ever get tired of looking at this man?

You bring your lips to his and he exhales into your mouth. Oh, this is the best way to get high. You pull away, releasing the smoke from your lungs.

“‘Bout shot, don’t you think?” Joel raises the joint up and looks at it.

“It’s shot,” you grab the ash tray from the table and hand it to him. He stubs out the joint and puts it back on the table.

He looks at you, his eyes heavier than usual, a little red and glazed. You’ve seen his eyes glazed over with lust numerous times, this glaze is a little lighter, a little happier. He sits back and you move farther up his lap so you can move a finger up to pet the smoothness of the little heart patch in his beard. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask as Joel’s hands trace up and down your back. 

“Good, real good,” a deep exhale out of his lips answers. 

“Relaxed?” You ask as your finger moves to brush back and forth across his lips. 

“Mm.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this free before. A light smile, half shut eyes staring back at you, his whole face more relaxed. He looks good this way, you love when he’s happy and relaxed, you’ve never met anybody more deserving.

“Feels good,” Joel says as you rub your finger across his soft lower lip. A deep breath leaves his half parted lips, the air blowing against your finger. “Real good.”

“Good,” your hand moves to trace around his top lip, the hair of his mustache bristling against your digit as you move it back and forth. “I like making you feel good.” 

You feel the the lines around his lips rise as he smiles at you. “You’re s’good at it baby.”

“Yeah? What do you like the most?”

“Hard t’pick. Love the way your eyes always blink as you cum for me, can always tells how good you’re feelin’ by how big your eyes get right before. Love the little gasp you always make when I start fuckin’ you. Love that you grab for my hands at any chance you get, like you need to touch me as much as you can. Love that you always need me.” The last sentence coming out the softest.

“I do need you,” you confess, “all the time, not even for all of the you know, sex stuff.”

“I know baby,” he hugs you against his chest, “I need you too… so much.” 

“But, I do also really need you for the sex stuff, you know?"

Joel’s chuckle vibrates against you. “My girl’s funny, real funny.”  

“But really, what do you need tonight Joel?” You pull away from his chest and look him in the eyes. You love it when he compliments you, you love it when he calls you his girl. You love that he needs you just as much as you need him. 

“I need you to tell me what you want from me tonight.  Make me yours. Talk to me like I talk t’ya.” Joel’s eyes staring into yours as they widen with his admission. “I’m yours baby.”

A bit of trepidation lands in your brain. Joel’s always the one to depend on to chart the stars of your intimacy. He’s so good at predicting what you want, you let him navigate. The thoughts are silenced once you feel his hands move along your hips and thighs. You can tell he wants you to do this for him. You want Joel to experience what you feel after he’s done with you. You want him to believe in you like you believe in him. You sit up higher on him, feeling braver and bolder. Ready to bless him for his confession. 

“Okay. I’m going to get up, walk to the kitchen to get something to drink, and when I come back, I want you to stand in front of my mirrored wall over there. Keep your clothes on.”

You’re shocked by the confidence in your voice. Joel as well, his hands pause their movement as you speak. He stares at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise. 

You rise up off of Joel, folding your arms across your naked chest. “Understand?”

“Y-y-yes,” Joel stutters. 

“Good,” you wink and turn towards the kitchen, your confident steps leaving a bewildered Joel in your chair. You’ve never acted like this, your brain swirling with ideas of what you want to do, what you want to say, how you want to make him feel. 

You grab two glasses out of your cupboard and fill them with water. Your mouth is parched, you’re sure Joel’s is too. You walk back to your living room, your courage building with each step closer. You know you’re ready when you see Joel standing as instructed in front of your mirror. 

“Hi handsome,” you walk to stand behind him, still topless and only in your shorts, his eyes moving from looking at his own reflection to your chest. You wouldn’t expect less from him, you love how he looks at you.

“Hi,” Joel whispers. You think he’s a little nervous, a little excited, he probably feels exactly how you feel. 

“I’m going to watch you watch yourself get undressed. I want you to listen to me and follow my directions, okay?”

“Yes,” his simple answer resolutely spoken as you put the waters down and turn the lamp on besides you, the light bathing both of you in a smoldering golden hue. You want to fully be able to watch Joel do what you have planned for him.

“Good, I don’t want to hear much from you, okay? I’m the one talking.” 

You like this feeling, you especially like the serious nod Joel gives you through the mirror. 

“Take your shirt off.”

You watch Joel’s hands move to the hem of his t-shirt and lift it over his head. 

“Give it to me,” you step forward and extend a hand out. 

The soft gray fabric is still warm with Joel’s body heat as it hits your hand. You bring it to your nose and inhale his scent. “You smell so good all the time. I love the scent of you.” You take one last sniff before putting his shirt on, his smell now encompassing you.

“Wh—“ 

“Quiet,” you interrupt Joel’s protest, “I don’t want to hear anything out of you, I want to smell like you and wear your shirt while I make you feel good.” 

He looks a little annoyed, you like that. 

“Look at your chest. It’s perfect. I love how your shoulders are so wide and so strong. I love how your arms are muscular and yet they’re so soft when I rest my head against them. I love how soft your stomach has gotten meaning you’re well fed and healthy. You like the praise baby?”

Joel nods as his eyes darken hearing you call him one of the pet names he always calls you.

“Unbutton and unzip your pants, but don’t take them off.” Your pussy getting wetter at the thought of the sights that you’re about to see, all directed by you. All broadcast on your mirror. 

Joel nods, as he unbuttons his jeans, his fingers move to his zipper and pulls it down. You love that he never wears underwear when he comes over. You love how you can see the trail of hair from his belly button down to his bush. He’s the perfect amount of hairy. He’s the perfect amount of manly. He’s just fucking perfect.

“Good. You’re thirsty right?” He nods. You lean over to the table and pick up a glass of water. “Drink all of this. Want to watch your neck move as you swallow it down.” 

Joel takes the glass and brings it to his lips, his eye contact not breaking with yours through the reflection. He takes a large gulp brows wrinkling with seriousness for the task at hand, no matter how significant or insignificant it is. It’s so Joel.

“I love watching you drink. I love how small the mug looks in your hand when you drink your coffee in the morning. I love how you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand after downing a whole glass of water when you’re hot. I love how gently form your lips around a glass of whiskey.” You finish your praise as he empties the glass, taking it from him and placing it on the table. 

“Good. Feel better?” 

He nods.

“Take your pants off,” you think of what Joel would say in this moment. “Lemme see all of you.” 

He smirks as he starts to move his jeans down his hips, he knows you’re going to love this part. His cock springs out as it’s freed, fully erect and throbbing, you knew you’d get him good and hard with your attitude. He bends over to shuck his jeans fully off, kicking them to the side, and when he stands up, shoulders back, dick hard and ready to follow your instructions, you almost fall to your knees. 

“God, you’re so fucking hot, baby,” you breathe out. His smirk still remains, he knows what he does to you. 

Your eyes roam his body, he’s so large and so thick, his body screams protector. He’s your protector. He provides for you. You love that you get to love him and make him feel this way. 

“I’m thirsty, why don’t you hand me my glass?” You love how seriously he follows your commands, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world. You love how powerful it makes you feel to see Joel readily do your every request. 

Joel turns towards the table and picks up the glass, handing it to you. 

“Thank you.” 

Another nod. 

You quickly drink the water down, save for the last quarter of it. “You’re still thirsty, aren’t you?”

This time it’s not just one slow nod from Joel, it’s three quick nods. He’s thirsty.

“Then come stand here in front of me.” 

You’ve enjoyed watching him from a couple of feet back, standing far enough to be able to see all of him in the mirror. Now that he’s right in front of you though, this is how you like him the most. Right beside you. 

You empty the rest of the water into your mouth, your cheeks swelling out with the amount you’re holding. You bring your palms up to your mouth and cup them together. Joel begins to breathe heavily as he watches you spit the water into your makeshift hand bowl.

“Now, drink it up,” you order.

He moves so fast, so eager to please. Joel’s head quickly craning down as his brown eyes look up at you. Your heart begins to race as his tongue comes out of his mouth and begins to lap up the water out of your hand. “I love how you’re looking up at me, you look at me the same way when you eat me out.” 

Joel grunts as he leans further forward and starts to suck the water up from your hand, never breaking eye contact. The groove of his dimple getting deeper as his cheeks hollow and he sucks up all of the water.

Now you wear Joel’s cocky smirk just like his shirt. You get to know him like he knows you, you get to play with his body like he plays with yours.

“Very good.” You move your hands to wrap around his erection, the slickness of the water allowing you to easily stroke him. A gruff breath leaves Joel’s mouth, the air landing against your face. You only leave your hands on him for a couple pumps, just enough until he begins to arch his back. His eyes widen as you remove your hands, a small “mmf” is let out of his pursed lips.

“I know, I know, I know you want more. You’ll get it soon. You’re being real well behaved for me, aren’t you?” 

Another nod. Joel still hasn’t spoken a word, you miss his voice but you also like to watch him challenge himself to stay quiet. 

“Face the mirror again Joel.”

He likes it when you say his name, he’s told you so many times how he likes to hear your voice say his name. 

“Touch yourself for me Joel.” 

His heavy eyes slowly shut as he bites his bottom lip with a moan, he liked that… a lot. He opens his eyes and with a look of determination, he spits in his hand before moving it down and gripping his shaft as he looks at you for his next command. 

“Stroke yourself for me.” 

He begins to slowly pump himself, savoring and watching himself in the reflection. His gaze anchoring in on pleasuring himself.

You wonder when the last time he did this was.

“When’s the last time you made yourself cum?” His movements falter as he looks up at you and takes in your question. “Go ahead, you can talk, tell me.” 

“That last night you were painting f’me,” a half smile shows up on his face as he begins to stroke again. 

Now you’re the one who only nods, your words lost at his confession. “Go on,” you muster up. You need to hear more. 

“Went to bed that night, ’n all I could see was your pretty eyes lookin’ up at me, how you looked in those overalls, I felt like I could still feel your lips on mine.” His strokes getting quicker, his hand pausing as he twists his hand around his tip. “Was so hard for you, had to take care of things before I could fall asleep.” 

Your whole body shivers, his words making your pussy begin to drip out onto your shorts. The look of his face as he recalls his memories. Those words added to all of his others that prove to you again that you have Joel’s heart, mind and body. He is yours. 

“God. Th—that’s good,” you breathe out, your eyes widening when you watch him bite his lip as he squeezes his cock. He has you flustered, and he knows, his mouth grinning into the signature cocky smirk he gets whenever you get like this. As if his sense of self blooms whenever he makes your heart race. 

You can’t allow him this pleasure over you, you’re the one in control tonight. You remind yourself that this is what Joel wants. You steel yourself and stand a little taller. 

“Stop,” you bark out. 

He obeys, mouth slacking open in shock at your raised voice. His hand unwrapping from around himself. 

“Good job, I think you were getting a little too comfortable, weren’t you?” 

Joel just stares at you, seems he forgot to nod. 

“I can’t let you have the power tonight, can I? Acknowledge me Joel.”

“N—no,” an actual stutter from Joel Miller’s mouth. Not a grunt, not a short one word answer, an actual nervous stutter. 

“That’s right. Now, I think you’ve had too much fun putting on a show for me. Go sit in the middle of the couch.” 

He nods, his broad frame passes by you, he doesn’t even take the time to look at you. 

You follow behind and wait until he takes a seat. You love seeing Joel on your couch, in your bed, using one of your bowls to eat oatmeal out of. You love seeing him in your space, all comfortable and domestic, but seeing him now naked on your couch, his hard cock sitting straight up, his large hands sitting atop his strong thighs, shoulders taking up most of the backrest of his seat, sitting ready to listen to your commands.  This is how you really like to see him. He’s fucking gorgeous. 

“So, you had your fun with your body, I want to have my fun with your body,” you stand over him. Now your body gets to loom over his. 

You bring the collar of Joel’s shirt up to your nose, inhale deeply and moan. “Have I told you before how much I love how your smell? Sometimes I’ll be wearing one of your shirts to bed I’ll smell your scent on it and it’ll make me wet while I’m trying to go to sleep.” The sound from Joel’s mouth makes you bolder. “One night, I might just knock on your door, in only your shirt and my jacket, make you help me take care of what smelling you does to me. Would you like that?” 

Joel shudders and furiously nods.

“Ohh, had a feeling you would,” you chuckle as you remove his shirt off of you. “I’m going to do something I've been wanting to do, okay?”

A nod, a groan, and a sigh now. The more reactions you get at once, the more you know how good you’re doing. 

You pull down your shorts, and kick them aside. His fingers grip into his thighs, his forearms straining at the sight of you. He’s going through it. 

“Can you see me glisten for you baby?” You ask as you lift your foot onto the couch cushion and snake your hand down in between your legs. “See how wet I got watching you touch yourself for me?” You take a finger and run it across your folds gathering your wetness. You hold it up for Joel, his eyes glued to your finger. “Open your mouth.” 

He listens. You slide your finger into his mouth, his lips forming around it, a low moan vibrating against it. 

“Put your hands on the couch, you can’t touch me, you can only watch. Okay?” 

Joel obeys. He still sucks your finger as you straddle his thigh. His skin radiates heat against you once you place your wet pussy on it. You’ve wanted to do this since you saw his bare legs for the first time, his thighs are so muscular and yet so supple, much like the rest of his features. Joel groans as you begin to ride his thigh, rubbing yourself back and forth against his skin. 

“You like how wet my pussy feels on your thigh?” You pull your finger out of his mouth. “Answer me Joel. Want to hear your voice.”

“Yes.”

“What do you like?” 

“Your wet pussy on my th— I like your wet pussy on my thigh,” his low cadence and the pressure against your aching cunt pushing you close to your orgasm.

“I’m going to make myself cum on your thigh, okay? I’m so close.” You begin to grind your hips down on his his thigh, putting the perfect amount of friction against your clit. 

Your hands splay against Joel’s chest, feeling his breaths and his moans rumble against your palms.

“I’m gonna cum on your thigh Joel.” You grab and pull on his chest hair as your climax reaches you, cresting over and spilling onto Joel’s thigh as you grind against it. Joel’s eyes boring into you looking forlorn and tortured that he can’t touch you as you cum on him. 

You rest your head against his shoulder as you catch your breath. You need to recover quickly, you’re ready to ride him. 

Joel grumbles as you stand back up. 

“Would you look at that? Look down baby, look how wet I got your thigh.” You place your hands on his thighs, a hand resting in the puddle of your slick left on his skin. You lean forward as he looks down and nibble the bare skin of his heart patch before licking your way down his neck and chest. “Should probably clean that up, huh?” You ask as your rest your lips against the plush of his belly before gently biting it. 

He groans as you move your mouth down, bypassing his hard cock to the side. You stick your tongue out and lick a long stripe up his thigh tasting yourself as you clean his skin. His breathing turns more labored as he watches you lick yourself up.

“Mm, wonder how I’d taste licking my cum off your cock?” You ask, nuzzling your head into his crotch, his hard cock throbbing against your cheek.

His hips jut as you turn your head and kiss the shaft of him. 

“You’re going to cum fast for me, aren’t you?” You leave a kiss on his shaft higher than your last one.

“I love how hard you always cum for me,” another kiss moving your way up his hardness. 

“I love the way you fuck my mouth while you cum down my throat,” another kiss.

“I love the way my name sounds as you chant it when I make your legs shake,” another kiss right under his tip.

“I love how your cum tastes as I lick it from my lips,” another kiss on his tip, tasting the precum collected on it. 

“Fuck,” he finally utters, not being able to hold back as you lick along the trail of where you just kissed him.

“Shhhh,” you silence against the soft skin of his firmness. “I think it’s about time for me to fuck you, before you get any more ideas about talking.”

Another deep exhale from him, his nose flaring in frustration. You fucking love this. 

“Put your hands on the top of your head, and don’t you dare lower them. Don’t touch me, okay?”

Joel nods raising his hands as you plant yourself back on the couch, straddling his legs. His eyes follow your body, his brows a bit more furrowed now. 

You hover your pussy over his cock, leaving enough space between the two of you that if he really wanted, he could raise his hips and stick his cock in, but he doesn’t. He wants to do good for you. 

“Open your mouth,” you angle your head forward, your lips right in front of his. Joel’s mouth opens, his heavy breathing hitting you in the face, as you lick into his mouth.

You swirl your hips over his cock slowly lowering yourself on him, you’re so soaked for him he easily slides into you. 

A long sigh escapes the back of his throat as you begin to ride him. You pull back from his mouth and rest your hands against his chest. His hands still sit on top of his head, you glance up and see how he’s grabbing at his hair in exasperation. 

He watches as you move your hands from his chest to yours, cupping your breasts and playing with your nipples. 

“Like watching me touch my tits like the way you do? Like how I pinch and pull my nipples like you?”

High pitched moans and groans of frustration leave his mouth. Joel Miller is whimpering. 

“Shhhh, shhh, I know baby. Now quiet. Want to hear my wet pussy ride you, stay quiet,” you say grabbing his jaw and pushing his mouth shut. 

You begin fucking him harder, the sound of your wet cunt bouncing on him and his whimpers the only sounds in the room. You lean forward and rest your head in the juncture between his head and shoulder. You slam yourself up and down on him, the rapidness of your movements matching the rapidness of your heart as you bring yourself close to your orgasm.

Your back straightens as you place your hands on his biceps, staring in his big brown eyes as your body snaps, your pussy clutching his cock as you cum around Joel. He bites his bottom lip fighting his orgasm for as long as he can. His biceps straining against your grasp as you feel his body begin to quake. 

“Clooooose,” he husks. You slip out of him, moving quickly on shaky legs through the aftershocks of your orgasm kneeling down in front of him. His hands are still in his hair as he looks down at you, watching you seal your mouth over him. You bob your head up and down on him as he cums down your throat. 

You swallow all of him down as he chants your name. His hands lower, resting against the hollows of your cheeks as you still keep his softening cock in your mouth.

You stare up at him, his hair left awry and twisted from his hands, eyes wide and still blown out as he blinks down at you, his chest rising and falling still catching his breath. He looks at you, like you’re the only thing in this world. You are the center of his universe. 

[xgsturn]

good idea? - ( c.s )

summary: you couldn’t sleep so you decided to text chris asking if he wanted to smoke, it’s something you both always did and one thing lead to another.

warnings: SMUT, smoking (weed), oral (female receiving), pet names, (ma, baby), p n v (let’s not be silly wrap before u tap). probably more but idk

word count: 1,557

author’s note: this is my first one shot i’m scared LMFAOOO also i didn’t proofread sorry if there is any mistakes!!

please let me know if you want to be un added or added into the taglist. i had just decided to add my favorite writers!!

also my request & inbox are open 💓💓

-

i’ve been trying to fall asleep for the past 20 minutes. i’ve shifted and turned so many times i honestly lost count.

i open my eyes, groaning with annoyance. some nights i had trouble falling asleep, but there was always one solution to that problem.

i grab my phone, opening the messages app before quickly clicking chris’ contact.

this was a thing that happened every now and then. if one of us had troubles going to sleep i’d go over to his or vise versa. we’d smoke together and then usually get tired after that.

i hear a soft knock against my window signaling that he was here. i walked over to see chris sitting on the small balcony that was attached to the window.

i opened the window, climbing through feeling a slight breeze on my shoulders before shrugging it off.

“like i said you could’ve just used the door” i playfully roll my eyes at him.

“suck my dick” he replied back before sitting down on the ground. “when?” i said seriously. he raised his eyebrows and looked up at me.

“in all seriousness, you’re a life saver.” i sigh, sitting down, and relaxing my body.

he pulled out a fresh rolled joint from his sweatpants pocket, “i know” he smirked, putting the joint between his lips.

“lighter” he mumbles against the joint.

i toss him the lighter, watching as he lit it and inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out.

i’ll never deny the fact that chris is hot, we had a flirty friendship from the beginning but nothing ever got to far.

he passes the joint to me, i relight it due to the wind causing it to ash out.

i inhale, feeling the smoke enter my lungs. i look at him as i blew it out.

the joint eventually dies out. i look over to chris, starting to admire the way the dim street light in front of him is showing off his features. his hair slightly messy, his eyes hanging low and red and fuck his lips-, he interrupts my thoughts.

“did you hear anything i just said?” he asks, his voice snapping me out of some trance i was in.

“sorry, what were you saying?”

“i asked if you wanted to go inside, it’s getting a little cold” he repeats himself, looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed.

“oh yeah, sorry just a bit distracted” i reply back covering my face from embarrassment.

as i’m climbing back into my room i feel chris’ gaze burning through me.

i get into my room and chris follows right behind me.

-

chris and i have been talking for the past 15 minutes. we both got onto our phones scrolling aimlessly, sitting in a comfortable silence.

i still can’t help to think about him, how his touch would feel on me, how his lips would feel against mine, how his long slender fingers would feel inside me.

i zoned out with a video playing over and over.

“what are you thinking about?” chris looked at me curiously through his low hooded eyes.

we were both still feeling the high effects.

what am i thinking about? i’m asking myself the same question. we have been best friends for years. i mean i’ve always found chris attractive, but tonight is different.

the way his body is leaned against the headboard, his biceps slightly flexing as he puts down his phone and crosses his arms, putting his full focus on me.

maybe it’s just the weed still lingering or maybe i just crave his touch.

“nothing.” i reply trying to act nonchalant but clearly not working.

“nothing, hm?” chris smiles loosely, as he looks down at my thighs then back up to my eyes, making heavy eye contact.

i follow his gaze down to my thighs, realizing how tightly squeezed they are.

i widened my eyes and look back up at him, before trying to relax the ache between my legs.

he puts his hand between my legs, spreading them open. he rotates his body, fully facing me now. his lips inches away from mine.

“is this a good idea?” i say studying his face for an answer.

“do you want this?” he replies in a serious tone.

“so bad but-.”

before i’m done speaking, i feel a hand on my jaw, pulling me closer to him and attaching my lips to his.

my body tenses from the sudden move but quickly relaxes soon after.

he bites my bottom lip softly, making my mouth part open giving him access to slip his tongue in.

he climbs on top of me, refusing to break the kiss.

our tongues fought for dominance before letting him win.

i tugged on his hair, signaling i wanted more. he groaned into my mouth, making me squeeze my legs around his waist. i couldn’t ignore the feeling between my thighs anymore.

“tell me what you want.” he spoke, trying to catch his breath. his lips pink and swollen.

i swallowed, “anything.” i feel desperate for him, wanting to feel some kind of relief.

“be more specific baby”

“need your fingers.” i mumbled quietly.

“good girl” he smirked, pulling my shorts down to my ankles. he slowly kisses my thighs going to the areas around my core.

he avoided where i needed him most.

“please.” i say while looking down at him through my lashes.

his hand still on the band of my pink thong. “can i take these off?” he whispered, looking at me. i nodded.

“i need to hear you say it ma”

“fuck, yes please” i practically beg.

he pushed my thong to the side before glazing one fingers over my entrance.

he slipped one fingers inside me slowly, letting me adjust. i moan into my hand muffling it.

he removes my hand from my mouth, putting it beside me. “i want your neighbors hearing how good i make you feel.”

i got even wetter after that sentence.

as i adjusted, i wanted more. “another one.. please” he listens to my commands and adds his second finger.

he started going faster, curling his fingers inside me and hitting that spongy spot each time. “f-fuck, chris.” i moan out, my fingers gripping my sheets.

he adds his mouth into the mix, sucking and licking my clit with such precision that made me start rolling my hips towards him.

my back was arching as he continued with his eyes fixed on my face.

i knew chris was experienced but i wasn’t expecting this.

my knees were already getting weak. “chris…” my hand going to his brown loose curls, tugging them. “i’m close.” i started to squirm underneath him.

“not yet.” he spoke against my cunt, sending vibrations through my entire body.

as soon as he said those words i couldn’t hold it anymore. the knot in my stomach eventually snapped, coating chris’ face and fingers with my cum.

“you can’t follow a simple rule?” his expression was stern and serious, while licking his fingers and mouth clean.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t hold it” i reply, breathing heavy with worry all over my face.

he doesn’t say anything, instead he starts taking off his sweatpants following with his boxers. his dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

he was big and thick which honestly i wasn’t surprised about.

it was already leaking with pre cum. a vein coming from the tip to the base.

“think you can handle another?”

i move my eyes up to his face, “i- i don’t know if i can.” i stutter out.

“yes you can and you will” he says firmly.

his eyes darkened with lust, turning me on more.

i nod my head obeying him.

“which position do you want me in?”

“lay on your back so i can see your pretty face.” he slightly tilts his head and smirks.

the ache between my legs comes back causing me to clench my thighs again.

he notices and pushes his knee between my legs, leaving it against my bare cunt.

a pornographic moan leaving my mouth, as i try to grind against his knee to feel some kind of relief.

“be patient baby.” he strokes his dick a couple of times to fully harden it.

he removes his knee and bends down to push himself in.

we both moan feeling the pleasure that we were craving.

chris started thrusting his hips into mine at such a fast pace, and at this point i could cum at any minute.

he leans down and starts kissing my neck sloppily as he tries to remain at his pace.

“taking me so well.” he whispers into my ear.

“chris” that’s all i could say, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as my hips lazily jolted up meeting his thrust half way.

“hm? i fucked you dumb huh.” i nod as a response. i couldn’t even think of a sentence to prove him wrong.

he started rubbing on my clit fast. i threw my head back, my mouth hanging open but nothing coming out.

“cum for me ma.” he said maintaining eye contact, that was all i needed before i squirmed underneath him and came all over his dick. “that’s my girl” he whispered.

he groaned and let his head drop as came into me. i felt his warm liquid feel me up.

he dropped his body beside mine, turning to look at me. “holy fucking shit” he chuckled, catching his breath.

“so friends with benefits?” i suggest while also catching my breath. “fuck yes” he replies almost immediately, making me laugh beside him.

“here let’s go get you clean up” he says while getting up from the bed.

-

tag list!!

@lovingmattysposts @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @strawberrysturniolo @luvmila444 @m4ttslvr @sturniol0s @fawnchives @hysteria-things

[munsonhoneybaby]

Sweet Leaf | Eddie Munson X F!Henderson!Reader

Summary: Finally starting to spend time with Eddie outside of your bedroom, everybody seems to know about the two of you but Dustin. 

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, eddie’s never-ending pet names, frequent drug use (marijuana), smut, lots of high sex in the whole series idk what to tell you lol, tiny bit of dry humping, eddie’s fishnet fetish?, skinny dipping, fingering, p in v (unprotected but he pulls out), sex in an empty parking lot, squirting, pretty heavy subspace, not angst but crying after sex, eddie’s a little fucknasty sometimes but he worships his lady, cheesy ahh ending

A/N: just two emotionally damaged stoners trying to figure out how to love each other, what more can i say? the length of this one just kept getting away from me lol i’ve loved writing this series and even though the main storyline is over i’d love to keep writing about these two if anybody sends in blurb/headcanon requests or anything like that !! i had plenty of little ideas i had to leave out !!

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

Eddie paused in the mirror, fixing the hair laying on his forehead. He fidgeted with his shirt, trying to get it to sit right on his shoulders– it was an old Kill ‘Em All t-shirt he’d cut the sleeves off of ages ago. He huffed and did one more frantic scan of his bedroom, hands fluttering uselessly at his sides as he was sure there had to be something he’d missed. Bed made, laundry done, and messes cleared away, his room looked cleaner than he’d seen it in probably two years. Deciding it wasn’t gonna get any cleaner in the next fifteen minutes, he dashed down the short hallway to double-check that the living room was spotless.

He’d draped the nicest blanket they had over the back of the couch and even specifically bought a few candles to light around the room just for the occasion. A few pre-rolled joints sat out on the coffee table alongside the selection of horror movies that Steve definitely didn’t let him sneak out of Family Video for free; he wanted to give you options, so he settled on The Thing, A Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, and The Evil Dead. He would have happily taken you to see a movie, maybe even a drive-in, but you’d said you’d rather it be just the two of you.

Three knocks sounded at the door, making him jump. You were four minutes earlier than he expected. Stepping to the door, he glanced around the room again and blew out a heavy breath before he opened it.

And there you were. Black shorts peeking out under your baggy Dio tee and a bag of snacks in hand from the gas station a couple miles off, you smiled at him. “Hi.”

Eddie couldn’t help his cheesy grin as he replied, “Hey.” Something about you was so enrapturing to him. He could have just stared at you, standing in the afternoon sunlight shining on his doorstep, forever.

“You gonna let me in?”

“Oh! Uh– right.” He moved aside, opening the door wider. “It’s not exactly the Ritz, but uh–”

“Oh, knock it off. I don’t care about that shit.” You looked around, taking in the collection of hats and mugs lining the walls. The warm light outside made the closed mismatched curtains glow. “I think it’s perfect.”

He cleared his throat to overcome the warmth in his chest before he spoke. “I got a few different movies if you wanna pick.”

“Ooh, can we watch The Shining? It’s been a little while since I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites.”

“Sure thing,” He nodded. As he turned on the TV and put the tape in the VHS player, you found a seat on the couch and grabbed a joint off the table to light up. While you seemed totally at ease in his trailer, he was as nervous as the first time he met you. First date jitters, he supposed. You looked so comfortable curled up and smoking in the corner of his couch that, as he settled at the opposite end, he couldn’t help but feel like you belonged there.

Your legs stretched into his lap as you scooted down a bit to pass him the joint. He rubbed his free hand back and forth along your calf absentmindedly. “I don’t know how long you were planning on staying– if you wanna stick around after this movie, I could make a frozen pizza and we could watch another or something.”

“Sounds good to me,” You hummed in return.

Forty-five minutes into the movie, the first joint was gone and Eddie was focused intently on the television screen. You started to get fidgety though, foot nudging against his thigh. “What’d you sit so far away for?”

“I dunno, just thought I’d give you your space I guess? I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything.”

“C’mere.” Pinching at his shirt, you tugged until he scooted himself to you. Your legs lay completely over his lap as you rested your head against his shoulder. “I don’t need space, I came here to be with you. It’s cute you’re taking this whole ‘first date’ thing so seriously, though.”

His cheeks flushed a little pink and he fiddled with his rings over your lap. “Sorry, I just– I want this to go well.” He laughed nervously as he continued, “I want to keep seeing you outside your bedroom, y’know? I want you to come to my shows, and I wanna take you to the diner, and I wanna kiss you goodbye after Hellfire sessions.”

You gave him a little smile, turning his face toward you to plant a soft kiss on his lips. “I wanna do that stuff too, Eds. You know that you mean something to me, right? I just wanna go slow in the Dustin department. He has to be okay with this.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded instantly, “However you wanna go about it. I swear, I’ll even ask the little loudmouth for his blessing when you want me to. I mean, I love that kid too.”

For a split second you just took in his features, and those big, earnest eyes were impossible not to believe. The material of his shirt scrunched between your fingers as you drew his lips to yours again. “Thank you for being there for him. And for me. You don’t know how much it means.”

He brushed a strand of hair back from your face with a little smile. “I think I do, sweetheart.”

“Hey, so where’s your sister?” Mike asked, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She’s like…always home.”

“I don’t know,” Dustin frowned, “I guess she just told Mom she was going out. Maybe I should call Robin and ask if she’s with her.”

“Dude, she’s an adult,” Lucas shook his head slightly. “She probably doesn’t need you to check in on her, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“But what if she isn’t?” As he continued, he paced the length of the basement, hands gesturing wildly with his words. “And what is she doing? ‘Going out’? What does that mean? Why is she trying to hide where she’s going? What if it’s somewhere sketchy?”

“You need to calm down,” Mike insisted. “It really isn’t that serious, she’s probably with Robin and Steve or something.”

“Right, so I should just call Robin and make sure!”

Lucas still rolled his eyes, but Dustin was already dashing up the stairs to the phone. “Great, now he’s gonna lose it if she’s not with Robin.”

“Where else would she be?”

“Literally anywhere, man. She could be at the record store, or with Nancy, or maybe with...”

“You don’t think she could be with Eddie–” But Mike was cut off by footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“She’s not with Robin, Steve, or Nancy which means I’m out of people to call which means I’m officially concerned. Do you think we should go out and start checking places? I mean, what if she smoked like– like– bad weed or something? I don’t know how that stuff works! Why wouldn’t she tell me where she’s going? She should know I’m worried sick!”

“Oh my god, would you relax? Did you talk to your mom?”

“Well, of course she thinks everything’s fine! She trusts us both implicitly when she obviously shouldn’t!”

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a breath before he looked at him. “I seriously think you’re overreacting. Like Lucas said, she’s an adult; she doesn’t have to tell you everything. She’s allowed to have a life.”

Having returned to his pacing, Dustin halted and looked at him with an offended expression. “Are you trying to say I’m clingy? I’m not clingy!”

“I’m not saying you’re clingy! I’m just saying that you do your own shit, she probably does her own shit too. Maybe she’s taking time to herself or maybe she’s out with a guy or something.”

“There’s no way she’s out with a guy. She would tell me if there was a guy! And where would she even meet a guy? Work? She barely talks to anyone, you guys know that!” Mike and Lucas shared a glance before looking in different directions.

“Look, if she’s not home in an hour we’ll go check a couple places, alright?” Lucas finally sighed.

“An hour? It’s already a quarter after nine!” Then they heard the front door close and Dustin was racing back up the stairs. There you stood, kicking off your shoes beside everyone else’s, a smile on your face that you were trying to bite back. Until your brother and his friends burst out of the basement. “And where on Earth have you been?”

You looked at him questioningly. “Enjoying my day off?”

“By yourself? Until nine-thirty at night?” He placed his hands on his hips, scanning you with a scrutinizing gaze. “What were you doing?”

“What’s with the third degree? I stopped at the bookstore, then I went out in the woods and read for a while. Is that okay, Mom?”

“Don’t condescend to me, you had me worried half to death!”

As you replied, you ruffled his hair. “Aw, well that’s very sweet, Dusty. I’m fine though, you don’t need to wait up for me.”

“See? We told you there was nothing to worry about,” Mike chimed. When he and Lucas gave each other another pointed look, however, he knew they’d both seen the faint hickey peeking out from your shirt collar that Dustin had apparently missed.

“Goodnight, boys. I’ll make you guys some breakfast in the morning, alright?” They all called back their own goodnights as you headed down the hallway to your bedroom and they made their way back into the basement.

Later that night you were dozing off, still dressed and on top of the blankets, when you jolted back to full consciousness at the sound of the phone ringing in the living room. Grumbling a little under your breath, you rubbed your eyes.

You were halfway down the hall when you heard the basement door creak open, and suddenly you were wide awake. At half past midnight, there was no way anyone other than Eddie was calling and there was definitely no way Dustin could answer that call. Increasing your pace to a slightly-panicked speedwalk until you were in the room with him, you just barely made it to the phone before him. You pressed the receiver into your chest to muffle your voice as you practically whispered, “Don’t worry about it, Dusty, it’s for me.”

“Who is it?”

“Nancy, she wanted to talk about what I got from the bookstore but she was busy with Robin and Steve,” You answered easily. He nodded and yawned out another goodnight before booking it back downstairs. Letting out a relieved exhale, you finally raised the phone to your ear. “Sorry, Dustin almost picked up. Everything okay?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, baby. Everything’s fine. I tried not to call, I swear I did, but–” He laughed a little embarrassedly, “Fuck, when can I see you again?”

“Eddie,” You whispered through a little giggle. “You had to call about that now?”

“I mean, I could always come over so we could talk about it in person instead,” He teased.

“I just left your place three hours ago.”

“Should’a just stayed the night, babe,” He sighed regretfully.

Clutching at non-existent pearls, you replied, “Stay the night? On the first date? Eddie Munson, what kind of girl do you take me for?”

“Of course, sweet thing, you’re right. You could never do anything so scandalous as sharing a bed with me before we’re really goin’ steady.” You could picture that smirk on his face as he spoke. “Guess that means we’ve gotta plan a second date, huh?”

“Guess so,” You hummed. “Have anything in mind?”

“Well, I was thinking,” He began slowly. “Maybe you could come to one of our shows? I know that’s not a super great date idea since I’m gonna be on stage pretty much the whole time and everything, but–”

“No, that sounds great,” You interrupted. “When’re you guys playing next?”

“Friday night at eight.”

“Alright, I’ll see you at The Hideout on Friday then.”

“Alright,” He cooed back playfully. “G’night, baby.”

Standing in front of your open closet, you rustled through all your clothes in indecision. “I don’t know what I should wear.” Nancy, Robin, and Steve sat side by side by side on the edge of your bed, peering into the closet from behind you. The latter opened his mouth to share an opinion but held his tongue as your younger brother leaned in your door.

“What’re you doing?”

“Uh– just trying to find something to wear, I’m going out later.” You shrugged off his question and continued shuffling through your hanging shirts.

“Again with this ‘going out’ stuff! With who?”

“Us,” Nancy interjected casually.

“Thought we’d go check out Eddie’s show at The Hideout tonight,” Steve added. “Show him some support since it’s usually just the drunks there.”

Dustin eyed you for a split second but seemed to move on from whatever suspicion he had toward you quickly. “Cool, I’ll let Mike and Lucas know. We were gonna hang at Mike’s, but we can all go to the show together instead.”

“You can’t come, Dusty. That’s not a kid-friendly environment,” You told him apologetically.

“What? Come on! We’re not kids, we’re in high school! We wanna see Eddie perform too, he’s our friend!”

“Oh, so now he’s just your guys’ friend,” Steve chimed. “Before, you were practically begging us to get along.” He stood and crossed the room to ruffle Dustin’s curls. “Seriously, dude, your sister’s right. This place is nothing but adults drinking, I doubt they’d even let you stay if you came in with us.”

“See? Your mother says no,” You confirm. “Sorry, Dustin, really. Maybe we could all do something together as a big group though soon, yeah? All of us and the Hellfire club. We could sit in on a session or take you all to the movies or something, okay?”

He paused, fidgeting with one of the buttons on his undone, patterned overshirt. “That’d actually be pretty cool. You’d do that?”

“Yeah, kid, it’s no problem.” You walked over to give him a side hug before nudging him out the door. “Now beat it, I’ve gotta get ready.” It took another minute or two of brainstorming before you decided to snag Dustin’s Hellfire t-shirt from his laundry basket– thank God you had just done his laundry for him. You thought it’d be the best fan attire since Corroded Coffin wasn’t exactly selling merchandise.

Once you were ready to go, Robin called shotgun as the four of you piled into Steve’s car. “Sorry that you guys have to tag along now, but you know how Dustin gets.”

Glancing at you briefly in the rearview mirror, Steve replied, “It’s no big deal. Sorry I told him you were going to see Eddie.”

“It’s fine,” You shook your head. “I wanna lie to him as little as possible anyway, I just haven’t figured out how to bring it up yet.”

“I know he wants you to, but you don’t always have to tell him everything right away,” Robin reminded you. “I mean, what were you gonna tell him– that you were fucking one of his best friends? He doesn’t need to know that. It’s not like you guys are actually together yet–” She was interrupted by a punch in the shoulder from Steve.

He gave her an incredulous look before Nancy took over, reaching over and squeezing your hand. “What she means is, you guys should take your relationship at your own pace and tell Dustin when you think the time is right.”

“Right, that’s exactly what I was gonna say,” Steve added.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.”

“What? I was!”

When you were finally standing in the parking lot of The Hideout, you let out a deep breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Robin hooked an arm around your shoulders and started for the door. “Come on,” She drawled. “Let’s catch ‘em before the show starts, you’ll be okay.”

They weren’t hard to find, setting up on stage front and center. You could see Eddie kneeling down to plug in the amp until Gareth lightly hit his arm and pointed in your direction. A grin stretched across his face as his stare dragged over your frame, taking in your fishnets, short skirt, and Hellfire tee. He excused himself to the rest of the guys before jogging over to you. “Hey, I didn’t realize you guys were coming along.”

“Yeah, I’m really sorry I didn’t give you a heads-up. Dustin found out where I was going and I didn’t want him to get nosy–”

“Are you kidding? This is the most sober people we’ve ever had in an audience, don’t sweat it.” He briefly squeezed your waist then let his hand settle on your back, fingers drumming impatiently. You looked at him questioningly, but he didn’t meet your eyes just yet. “I appreciate you guys coming, I know it’s not really your kinda music.”

Steve waved him off. “Nah, man, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Harrington.” His arm moved from your waist to your shoulders, “I’m gonna steal her from you guys for a couple minutes if you don’t mind. I wanted to show her some of the equipment.” Robin opened her mouth to make a smart remark but was stopped by another punch from Steve.

He guided you to a nook behind one of the walls in the far corner of the bar. Humming lowly, he cupped your face so you’d look at him. “You really dressed for the occasion, pretty girl. You look fucking incredible.”

“Well, I haven’t gotten my exclusive Corroded Coffin t-shirt yet, so I figured this was the next best thing.”

“My apologies, babe, I’ll get right on that.” He dipped his head to press a long, slow kiss to your lips.

“Somebody smoked a joint without me,” You teased.

With a good-natured smile, he rolled his eyes in false exasperation. “Sorry, should’a gotten here earlier. We can smoke all you want after, alright? Pothead.”

“What’s that thing people say?” You asked sarcastically. “I think it was something about a pot, maybe a kettle?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He laughed. A whistle from Gareth called his attention to the stage and he exhaled heavily. “Okay, that’s my cue. Wish me luck?”

“Like you need it,” You pecked his lips. “I’m really excited to hear you play. You guys are gonna do great.” Eddie smiled and stole one last quick kiss before darting back to the stage, leaving you to make your way back to the others.

“We may have taken the liberty of getting you a drink,” Steve said as Robin pushed a glass across the table toward you.

“I would be offended if you hadn’t.” Taking a few swigs, you looked over to where Eddie was finally settling the mic into its stand, his guitar hanging from his shoulder. They didn’t bother with grand introductions given the small crowds that gathered weren’t exactly there to see Corroded Coffin; they simply started into their set.

The boys mostly stuck to covers of semi-popular songs– sticking to their roots with Metallica and Black Sabbath, but appeasing the bar patrons with some Led Zepplin and a grudging Bon Jovi song. A few pieces they’d weaved in were their own and you could tell, but they certainly weren’t out of place. You could see where their inspiration came from.

You caught up with Nancy, Robin, and Steve between songs, but they mostly carried the conversation as you watched Eddie. Anyone really paying attention would be able to see that he was in his element. Sweat matted his bangs to his forehead, fingers moving masterfully over the strings as he powered through Trapped Under Ice with incredible accuracy. While you had heard the dramatic voices he put on during Hellfire, you hadn’t known that he could also mimic James Hetfield and Ozzy very impressively. He wasn’t perfect, but what little he lacked in refinement and precision, he more than made up for with passion. 

The middle-aged drunks occasionally gave some muted applause for the songs they recognized, but otherwise ignored the free entertainment. He really was underappreciated here. In front of a real audience, you couldn’t imagine the kind of stage presence he’d have.

Over the next two hours, you worked your way through a couple drinks. You hoped the frequent crossing of your legs could be attributed to the short skirt you were wearing rather than your dwindling patience and self-control as you waited for Eddie to finish his set. When they finally wrapped up their last song, you made your way up to the stage. He was lowering the mic stand when you got to him, holding his gaze as you dropped a twenty in the guitar case in front of him. There were only a few other bills and some loose change inside.

“God, please don’t. Seriously, that’s insulting.”

“Are you kidding? That’s an investment. I expect it back with interest when you guys make it big.” He held a hand out to you as you joined him on the stage. “Really, I thought you were amazing. You’ll see when you get outta this place.”

He just gave you a small smile and brushed his thumb over your cheek, eyes sweeping over your face briefly before he took both your hands. “So I really do wanna hang with you, babe, but I absolutely have to move all our gear first. Is there any way I can convince you to stick around?” His lips dragged over your knuckles, leaving a few kisses as he spoke. “Have a li’l smoke sesh in the back of the van once it’s empty. Promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Your chest warmed at the attention he was lavishing you with in front of all of his friends– Dustin’s friends– and you tucked your chin a little bashfully. “That’s fine, Eds.”

“Awesome. We’re gonna finish loading the van, then you can ride with me to Gare’s to unload everything there, then I’m all yours. Cool?”

“Sounds good to me, rockstar.”

Holding your face in one hand, he squished your cheeks and shook your head back and forth lightly. “Always makin’ fun ‘a me, aren’t you?” He landed a kiss on your puckered lips and subtly patted your butt. “Go sit with your friends and I’ll let you know when I’m finished, okay? So glad I had my best girl cheerin’ me on tonight.”

As he went back to helping the guys pack up, you went back to Robin, Nancy, and Steve who paused their conversation when you sat down.

“Swooning already?”

“Somebody’s definitely looking a little starstruck,” Robin added. “Ready to ask him to sign your boobs?”

“The way it’s sounding, he might later,” You replied before taking a sip of your drink.

“I’m proud of you,” She nodded and took your hands dramatically over the table. “At least one of us is leading a successful love life. We will live vicariously through you.”

“Well then, let me know when we figure out how to tell our little brother that we’re dating his male mentor.”

“Wait, did Dustin say Eddie was his male mentor?” Steve interjected. “That’s so not true–”

Robin shook her head. “Steve, shut up.” She smacked your hand and nodded behind you just before you felt hands settle on your chair.

“Hey, you guys enjoy the show?” Eddie’s rings clinked against the metal of the chair, his voice not far from your ear making your heart rate pick up.

“Yeah, you guys were great. We’ll have to come again sometime,” Steve replied.

Nancy politely asked, “How long have you been playing, Eddie? Some of those songs seemed pretty complex.”

“I started playing with the guys when I was in eighth grade, but I started teaching myself around sixth. So, I guess about…nine or ten years?” He shrugged, thumbs drumming against the chair.

“You’re really talented,” She commended.

“Thank you, that means a lot to me.” His hand shifted to your shoulder before he continued on playfully, “Your guys’ friend here gets a backstage pass though, which means she gets to come watch us unload equipment at Gareth’s mom’s house and smoke my weed.” He took your hand as you stepped down from your high-top chair, pushing it in for you and grabbing your purse as you said goodbye. “Thank you guys again for coming. I’ll see you around soon, yeah?”

Steve gave him a one-armed hug as he nodded, “Definitely, man.”

The two of you walked back to the van, hand in hand, your steps echoing in the mostly-empty parking lot. The others were already waiting in Gareth’s garage passing around a joint when you pulled into the driveway. You followed Eddie around to the back of the van as he opened one of the back doors. Gareth got up to open the other one, handing you the joint as he passed you. 

“Alright, boys, think we can manage our fastest unload yet?” Eddie asked, cracking his knuckles.

“Yeah. As long as you don’t tweak your fuckin’ back again, old ass,” Jeff scoffed in return.

“Seriously, dude. Lift with your legs,” Gareth chimed.

Eddie made a talking motion with his hand and mumbled mockingly back before grabbing one of Gareth’s drums. “Start moving your shit or I’ll stop discounting your weed.”

“Oh, yes! Forgive me, master!” Gareth snarked, voice quavering with feigned fear.

They all got to work on moving the drum kit out first before moving on to the other equipment. Not knowing what to do with your hands, you took a hit and sat on the edge of one of the chairs they had out. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I mean, there’s a fridge in the corner, you wanna grab a few beers?” Jeff asked, getting a grasp on one side of an amp.

Gripping the other side of the amp, Eddie gave him an unimpressed look. “Dude, did you seriously just send her on a beer run?”

“It’s literally the other side of the garage. Shut the fuck up and bend your knees.”

You grabbed a beer for everyone– except Eddie, who was stuck with cherry Coke until he was done driving– and passed them out when they were done moving the amps. Then, to kill some of the time, you sat in the van and packed a bowl to smoke with Eddie later. When the equipment left in the back started to dwindle, you, Jeff, and Barry made conversation while Eddie unloaded some of the lighter equipment with Gareth. Keeping his voice low, the drummer suddenly spoke. “You know you have to like– marry her, right?”

“What’re you talking about?” Eddie chuckled, though his face and neck warmed at the mental image.

Gareth jabbed a thumb over his shoulder in your direction. “Dude, she’s over there talking to your nerdy loser bandmates about Judas Priest’s influences on Iron Maiden’s first album. And she’s actually invested. You’re not gonna find another girl like that in Hawkins. Not to mention how you talk about her–”

“Alright, shut it,” He huffed. “Just help me get this shit out, it’s getting late.”

When the last of it was finally tucked away in Gareth’s garage, Eddie checked his watch and sighed. Eleven-thirty. “Damn.” Your conversation with the boys had drifted to your opinions on heavy metal power ballads when his hands settled on your waist. “Sorry that took so long, you ready to get going?”

“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ll see you guys later though, alright? We should really head out.” The three of them thanked you for coming and said their goodbyes before settling back into their fold-out chairs, presumably to keep getting fried.

You and Eddie climbed into the van and he started it up before looking over at you. “It’s not the first date anymore. Any chance I can convince you to stay the night?”

“No convincing needed. I didn’t know how late I’d be home so I already asked Nancy to cover for me if Dustin calls.”

“Wait, you really want to?”

“Of course I do. Will Wayne mind me staying there?”

“Oh, he wouldn’t care. He works the night shift and sometimes he works overtime, so he usually isn’t back until six or eight in the morning. And occasionally he’ll even stop for a drink with a couple guys from work and that could take ‘til ten,” He explained with a little crooked smile. “He’d love you, though.”

You noticed him freeze up a little as he registered his own words, so you took one of his hands and laced your fingers through his in your lap. “I’m sure I’d love him, too. He must be a great man if he raised you.”

He squeezed your hand lightly as he relaxed. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.” There was a moment of quiet, just the low hum of the radio and the roar of the van until Eddie spoke again. “You wouldn’t wanna go to Lover’s Lake, would you?”

“Sure.” His hand settled on your thigh and your lips curled down as you repressed a little smirk. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Hey, I can be romantic,” He defended lightheartedly. “I just prefer places like these when they’re less populated.”

“Why? So you can smoke and have sex in them?” You asked with a joking scoff.

“No, I just like my privacy. It’s more intimate without a bunch of obnoxious people around.” He paused, then conceded. “But yes, I like to have a range of recreational activities to choose from. Is that so bad?”

You shifted your leg so his hand drifted further up your thigh. “You wouldn’t happen to be taking me there to do both, would you, Eds?”

“I’m taking you there to do whatever you wanna do, sweet thing.” His tone remained casual, but his hand slowly crept higher and higher. “We could lay down and look at the stars…Maybe go for a swim…” Goosebumps rose on your skin as his short nails dragged across it, fingers catching on the loops of your fishnets. “What d’you think?”

“We didn’t bring swimsuits,” You remind him.

“So?” He asked as he pulled into the small gravel lot hidden by the trees. Looking over at you with a smirk, he continued, “There’s no one else here.” He got out of the van and came around to open your door as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, though.”

After grabbing a couple of blankets from the back of the van, he took your hand and lead you out away from the trees. You helped him lay out the blankets, crawling onto them and kicking off your shoes. Eddie lay down beside you and you looked over at him, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually been out here at night. It’s really pretty.”

“Can’t believe you think so when you get to look in the mirror every day,” He shot back without effort, giving you that goofy grin of his.

Lightly smacking his arm, you fought back a big smile of your own. “That was terrible, you know that, right? That was actually so bad.” Your combined laughter sounded loud in the near-silent clearing of the lake; your voices were only accompanied by the constant chirping of crickets and the occasional owl’s hoot. 

He rolled onto his side, resting his head in his hand as he looked down at you. “You’ve gotta get used to taking my compliments, babe, even the corny ones. ‘Cause soon they’ll be comin’ non-stop.” You simply hummed in response, your hand finding the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. He didn’t hesitate to shift over you, arms on either side of you to support himself as his knee braced between your legs. Lips sticky with your lip gloss, his mouth made a path to your neck. “Y’really do look so pretty tonight, baby. Never seen you in a skirt before, I could barely pay attention to our set.”

“I thought you did amazing.” His hot breath on your neck made you squirm, grasping at his shirt as your hips wound against the firmness of his thigh. “Had me wet the whole time.”

“Fuck, wanted to get my hands on you so bad. Just performing had you all soaked for me, huh?” Your skirt rode up toward your waist until Eddie decided it was unnecessary, leaning back to yank it off. “Jesus H. Christ, fucking look at you.” Lying beneath him, fishnets stretched taut over your spread thighs leading up to your Hellfire tee, you were his fucking dream. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t a religious man but, at that moment, he wished he was because he felt like he needed to thank somebody for your existence. It was like every fantasy he’d ever had simply walked out of his head and into his life. “Seriously, I might need to take a minute.”

“Can you help me out of these while you do?” You ask, curling your legs up to your chest.

He guided one of them up to his shoulder, running his hand down your outstretched leg and eyeing the tights before he looked at you. “Am I in trouble if I say no?”

“If you take them off now without ripping them I’ll wear them for you again sometime,” You bargained teasingly.

“I’ll do it if you let me eat you out through them next time.”

You shoved lightly at his chest with your foot, trying not to laugh. “You’re such a freak.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but you could see he didn’t take the name to heart coming from you as his hips pressed into your ass. “Careful callin’ me names, babe. I’m starting to like it when you’re mean to me.”

“Pervert.”

He hummed, trailing kisses down the inside of your leg and finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your fishnets. “Only for you, sweetheart.” His short nails scraped gently along your skin again as he carefully drew the tights down your legs. The second they were off, you sat up to pull him into another hungry kiss.

Deepening it, he started to ease you onto your back again but was shocked when you pulled away. With a coy smile, you asked, “How ‘bout that swim?”

Baffled, he was unable to come up with a response before you were standing and whipping your shirt off. His brain kicked back into gear when you dashed away from him toward the lake. Then he was running after you, fumbling to kick off his shoes and strip in the process. He froze as he watched you take off your bra and jump in wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of panties. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding. Finally kicking off his jeans, Eddie dove in after you.

Attempting to wipe the water from your eyes, you looked around for him in the water. Just as he breached the surface behind you, though, he grabbed your waist and shouted. Your squeal broke into a fit of giggles as he squeezed your sides and pulled you into his chest. “You’re such a dick!”

“That’s what you get for bein’ a tease.” Staying close to shore, the water came nearly to his shoulders. He urged you to wrap your legs around his waist, his hands settling under your butt to hold you comfortably.

Arms settling loosely around his neck, you looked away pointedly, that mischievous little expression finding its way to your face again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course, you don’t. ‘Cause the sweet girl I know would never do a thing like that, right?” He asked sarcastically.

You shook your head and answered in a falsely solemn tone. “Never.”

He chuckled softly until you leaned into him, nipples hardened from the chill of the water and pressing into his chest. Faint smiles never left your faces as you shared a few messy kisses. His hand rubbed soothingly up and down your spine while you pushed a strand of wet hair from his face. Swept off his shoulders, his soaked hair allowed you to see his whole face more clearly than ever. He started to feel self-conscious as your eyes drifted slowly over his features, taking him in, your thumb stroking over a spot beneath his ear that gave him chills. “You’re so handsome, Eddie.” He opened his mouth slightly like he was going to respond, but he couldn’t seem to think of anything so you changed the topic for him. “It’s nice here at night, we should come back again sometime when we don’t have any other plans.”

Eyebrows furrowing, he frowned in confusion. “What do you mean ‘other plans’?”

Untangling yourself from him, you faced him and swam backward toward the dock. “Hotboxing the van and having amazing sex, obviously. C’mon.” Climbing out, you held your arm tight over your chest as you snagged your bra off the dock and ran to the blankets still on the ground.

Eddie was close behind, picking up his trail of abandoned clothing. He started to apologize for the lack of towels, but you quickly waved him off and you both dried off as well as you could with one of the blankets. While you wrapped yourself in the dry blanket, he gathered your things with his to carry it all back to the car. “Go ahead and get in the back, I’ll start it up and get the music going.”

Opening one of the back doors, you found that the floor was already covered with other blankets. Climbing inside, you felt the van rumble to life. You could hear Eddie rustling through cassettes in his console as you peeled off your sopping-wet underwear and curled up with the pillows and blankets he’d put back there. The bowl you’d packed in hand, he finally joined you in the back. When he climbed in he paused to fidget with something you couldn’t see and suddenly the back doors were illuminated by little twinkling lights. He swung the door closed and tugged off his boxers before you asked, “When did you have time to do all this?”

“Hm? Oh, it’s all been back here for a little while. I just laid the blankets out in here when I grabbed the other ones to lay down by the lake.” He settled beside you, the top half of his blanket bunched in his lap leaving you free to ogle his tattoos– a favorite pastime of yours. “You want the first hit?”

You shook your head with a small smile, eyes tracing his features like they had in the lake. His hair was still heavy with water, but his forehead was hidden again and his curls were starting to come back. With nothing but moonlight, his eyes had looked black; in the glow of the fairy lights, you could see their warm cocoa-brown color again. His pretty lips formed an O as smoke billowed out of them. Their blushy-pink color nearly matched the flush on his cheeks, which you knew would spread to his neck and chest soon enough. He was beautiful, really.

He offered you the bowl and it stayed quiet, excepting the Master of Reality album playing softly, while you took a few long rips. You passed it back to him and let the silence continue for a moment before you finally said, “I’m gonna tell Dustin.” Unintentionally hitching in a breath, he choked on a throatful of smoke. The resulting coughing fit was so intense it brought tears to his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh as you rubbed his back. “Are you okay?” He nodded, but you still leaned over the console to grab the bottle of water from the cup holder. 

Taking a few swigs, he cleared his throat. “Okay, sorry,” He let out a big breath before he looked at you again. “You’re ready to tell him?”

“Yeah.” Too nervous to hold his gaze, you curled into his side. He welcomed you, of course, tucking his blanket around the both of you and kissing the top of your head. “I just feel like things have gotten…real. You try to take care of me in ways no one else has before and everything feels so easy with you– and honestly, both of those things scare the shit out of me ‘cause that usually means everything is absolutely going to go to shit…But you look out for my brother, and I feel like I can trust you, and everything we do together just feels so intimate…” You huffed embarrassedly and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “I think Dustin deserves to know that I care about you so much.”

“That we care about each other,” He corrected you. Hand framing your jaw, Eddie made you meet his eyes. “I’m gonna be there with you when you tell him. I don’t want you to do it alone, we should do it together. I still have to get his blessing, right?” He added jokingly. Before you could say anything, he started to ramble a little nervously. “I feel like this is real. I’ve never felt this way about anybody. I’ve never had the chance to have anything serious before, but you…You’re all I think about now. That first day I met you, it was like I had this ‘Where have you been all my life?’ moment and you’re all I’ve wanted since, and I know that sounds really cheesy and dramatic but–”

Your mouth on his cut him off, which seemed to be a habit you were forming. He didn’t mind though, he’d been told to shut up in much less pleasant ways. When you pulled away, it was only enough to murmur, “I know the feeling.” Your nose nudging his was enough for him to keep it going, hand hooking under your knee and drawing you to straddle his lap.

The blanket slumped to your waist leaving your torso bare for his eyes and hands to wander. “You’re just so fuckin’ beautiful. My pretty girl, right, baby?”

Toying with one of his damp curls, you held his gaze as you agreed, “No one else’s.” At your answer, he pulled you in for a much more desperate kiss. His fingers pressed into your back while the others slipped beneath you to find you soaked, your chest flush with his as his tongue passed your lips. 

He pressed two fingers into you easily, slowly massaging your g-spot until you were whining into his mouth. “Feels like you might not even need me to stretch you out, sweetheart.” Hips canting forward involuntarily, your clit ground into the thick base of his cock. Finally letting you catch your breath, he withdrew his hand from between you and looked down to watch how your slick spread on his skin as he rutted against you. “Mmm, gonna let me show you how bad I need you?”

You brushed his hair back from his shoulders as you breathily replied, “Condom?”

“Wallet,” He answered. Leaning over his shoulder to grab it off the console put you in the perfect position for Eddie to mouth at your tits, lips wrapping around one nipple while the roughened pads of his fingers found the other. You moaned quietly and tugged at his hair, but grabbed the wallet and rifled through it. 

“Eds, there isn’t one in here.”

“Fuck. Glovebox, maybe,” He suggested.

Huffing impatiently, you began to wind your hips against his again. “D’you promise to pull out if I let you fuck me raw?”

He looked up at you with wide eyes. “Really– I mean, are you sure? You don’t have to.”

“Need to feel you now, Eddie,” You insisted.

“Alright, sweetheart, I promise.” He lovingly pecked your lips before grasping your waist, helping keep you steady as you slowly sank down on him. Fully seated in his lap, a gasp rose in your throat. “There you go,” He murmured comfortingly. “I know, baby, but you’re so good. Can finally feel how wet you really are. Takin’ me so deep.”

Your voice was nothing but a high-pitched, airy sigh. “Feel you everywhere.”

“S’Cause I’m made for you.” Your forehead rested against his as he continued. “I was made to fill you up, pretty girl.” His words provoked a pathetic moan from you, spurring you to lift your hips fractionally just to ease back down again. Supporting yourself with your hands on his shoulders, you tried to start up a steady pace, but your thighs trembled with every motion. The moans and whimpers you let out started to sound quiet and watery and it worried him, but the determined rocking of your hips never ceased. “You doing okay, baby?”

Not lifting your head, you sniffed frustratedly. “Need help, Eddie.”

“Oh, baby, why didn’t you say so?” He cooed sympathetically. “S’okay to need my help, c’mere.”

Arms around your waist, he guided you up and down on his cock at a careful speed until you were grinding down on him again. “Eds please, I need more,” You whimpered. Rolling his hips to meet yours, he didn’t hesitate to tighten his arms around you and quicken his pace. The way he was hitting every possible spot inside you had your eyes squeezing shut to keep them from crossing. Thighs trembling, you shivered as he rubbed and squeezed at them.

Eddie’s shoulders rolled back as he leaned against the console, hands running slowly over your hips and across your stomach to palm at your tits. “Look so pretty on top’a me, sweet girl. Might have to make you ride me more often.” His thrusts into you sped up, the console against his back giving him more leverage. One of your hands rested lightly on his lower abdomen to steady yourself but once his thumb found your clit, you were practically writhing in his lap. He rubbed it in firm, precise circles and felt you squeeze around his cock uncontrollably. “That’s it, baby, come for me. Can’t wait to feel you soak me for the first time.”

Something felt different than usual as that coil wound tighter in your stomach. It was hotter, like flames were crawling across your skin. It felt like your bones shook and your eyes swam with stars as you cried out his name. Your nails dragged down his stomach, those of the other hand doing the same to his thigh, trying to anchor yourself with your head in the clouds.

It wasn’t until the ringing in your ears cleared that you heard Eddie’s feral groans, making you look down. Everything was drenched; your thighs, his cock, his stomach, and his chest glistened wet in the warm lights. The sight made you register the sloshing sounds of your dripping wet pussy as he started to slow his thrusts enough to pull out. Arms enclosing around your waist again, he all but pinned you to his chest as he rutted between your stomachs. Lips molding to yours, he kissed you sloppily before his gaze wandered your body in awe. “Can’t believe you fuckin’ squirted f’me. Fuck–” Cut off by his own moan, his forehead fell to your shoulder as his eyes squeezed shut, his hot spend painting both your skin and his. 

After he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, he eased you onto your back, watching the filthy mixture of your come drip down your used cunt. “Eds, what’re you doin’?” You asked timidly as he lowered himself between your thighs, voice coming out in a barely-there squeak.

“Wishin’ I could take a fucking picture, sweetheart. I was gonna clean you up. Want me to use the blanket instead? S’okay if you’re too sensitive, especially after all that.” You nodded and he kissed the side of your knee with a smile as he grabbed the soiled blanket and quickly wiped himself off. Your legs flinched as he patted you dry and his eyes filled with concern as he murmured your name. “Did I hurt you? Did I do too much?”

“No,” You struggled to raise your voice above a mumble. “I’m okay, Eds, I’m jus’ all sensitive.”

“Promise me that’s it?” He asked, running his hands comfortingly over your legs. Pointedly avoiding his gaze, you huffed through your nose and your eyes brimmed with tears. “Baby, c’mon, what is it? What’s the matter?”

You answered him in a whimper, sniffing back tears every few words. “I jus’ made a mess ‘n I’ve never done that before ‘n now everything’s all yucky–”

“Aw, baby,” He chuckled through a sympathetic pout. Lying down and drawing you to his chest, he wiped your tears and kissed your forehead. The two of you curled up under one of the clean blankets. “Nothing’s yucky, sweet girl. Just gotta wash the blankie, no big deal.”

“But ‘m still all sticky,” You pout up at him. “C’n we take a bath when we get home?”

“Home?”

“Your trailer, Eddie,” You whine. “Wanna take a bath.” Lids heavy with exhaustion, your eyes slowly fluttered closed repeatedly before they’d snap open again.

“You’re so sleepy, sweet girl.” He brushed your hair back from your face. “Think you can take a little nap back here while I drive us home?” You nodded dreamily but still clutched at him whenever he tried to get up. “I know, baby, just twenty minutes and we can take a bath. Okay?” When you finally conceded, he tugged on his jeans and made the short drive home. 

Once you were bathed and dressed in nothing but a borrowed Metallica t-shirt, he tucked you into his bed before crawling in beside you. You dozed off easily with your head on his chest, but he stayed up just a little while longer. Palm rubbing circles on your back, his lips ghosted over your forehead. “I love you, baby,” He whispered almost silently. Closing his eyes, he focused on the feeling of your heart beating against his side, counting them like a child would sheep until he fell asleep.

The next morning, you woke up first, Eddie’s arms around you and his chest molded to your back. You scoffed and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help your tiny smirk as you registered the feeling of him squeezing at your tit, his even, heavy breaths against your shoulder telling you he was fast asleep. Slowly rocking your hips back, you bit back a laugh when it made his grasp tighten while he nuzzled into your neck. He rutted against you, half-hearted and arrhythmic in his unconscious state. It wasn’t until you reached back to hold his hip and grind directly against his cock, separated only by his boxers, that he finally grunted himself awake. “Mmm, g’morning t’you too, gorgeous.”

“You’re a perv even in your sleep, you know that, Munson?”

He mouthed at your neck with a sleepy grin, “I could’a told you that. How’d you know I was dreamin’ about you?”

“Well, your right hand was my first clue.” You pointedly ground your hips into his again and looked back over your shoulder at him, “Wanna guess my second?”

“Can’t help but get ideas, babe. You’re sleepin’ in my bed, in my shirt, no panties…” His fingers walked a path down your stomach, stopping just after your belly button. “Promise I kept my hands to myself, though– while I was awake, anyway.”

His hand drifted leisurely between your legs but you groaned. “Eds, what time is it?”

“I don’t know, almost nine? Why?” His lips never left your skin, still working over your neck and shoulder without leaving obvious marks.

“We can’t, we have to go. Dustin’s at Mike’s and I wanna make sure we get back before him. I’ve still gotta make myself decent and figure out what I’m gonna say to him.”

“What we’re gonna say to him,” He corrected. “And can’t you stay indecent a little longer?”

“Wayne’ll be home anytime,” You remind him, “If he’s not already.”

He pouted, “But how often do we get to have great morning sex after a night together like this, baby?”

“Any morning now that I’ll be staying over whenever you want,” You point out.

“Hmm, I s’pose that’s true,” He agreed contently. Stretching out beside you with a loud groan, he pecked your cheek before he got out of bed. Yawning, “I’ll be right back,” he headed for the bathroom. 

Rolling over, you buried your face in his pillow and breathed in. Old spice shampoo, weed, and Marlboros filled your nose and it made every muscle in your body relax. Him. You wanted to bottle the scent, soak every pillow and blanket and sweatshirt you owned with it. You’d never have another restless night again. Lifting your head slightly, you left your nose against the fabric but allowed your eyes to flicker around his room. 

A bottle of lotion sat on his nightstand, he didn’t seem to bother with tissues though. You weren’t surprised. Handcuffs hung on the wall, also not surprising, but they still made your thighs twitch. There were more band posters than in your room, including a hand-spray-painted one for Corroded Coffin. He had three guitars, his prized possession– his other sweetheart, as well as another black and white electric, and an acoustic painted to say ‘this machine slays dragons’. An amp sat across from the bed and his dressers were strewn with clothes and beer cans. It was easy to imagine him existing in here. Playing guitar in bed in his boxers or planning the party’s next campaign at his desk.

Your eyes snapped to the door when it finally opened again. “Still in bed, huh?” Nodding with a small smile, you watched him rummage through his dresser for today’s band tee. His hand settled on Slayer before he thought of running into your mom, and opted for the much tamer Deep Purple one beneath it. “Well, you should probably put somethin’ else on before I take you home. What you’ve got on might get a little breezy.”

“Bite me,” You yawned, flipping him off as you got up.

“I didn’t think we had time for that,” He replied snarkily. He finished getting dressed as you slipped on your skirt and balled up your fishnets to put in your purse.

When you were both ready– or as ready as you could get for now– you headed for the van. “I’ll make coffee when we get to mine,” You offer. “My mom should be at work, so I’ll make breakfast. Food might help soften the blow.”

“God, you’re acting like we killed his cat or something,” He laughed. “We’re not breaking bad news, babe.”

“It’s still a shock, alright? And Dustin has big feelings, you know that. I just don’t wanna make him feel uncomfortable or lied to. Me and him don’t usually keep secrets, so this is a big deal.”

“I can be tactful, alright? But I’ll let you do most of the talking if that makes you feel better, I know you’re worried about him.” His fingers laced through yours and brought the back of your hand to his lips. “It’s gonna be okay though, sweet girl.”

Pulling into your driveway, you let out a heavy breath before you got out and lead him inside. As you got dressed, you tried to practice what you’d say, rambling your thoughts aloud. He left you to your process, only stepping in for you to bounce thoughts off of or to keep you from getting lost in your concerns. You only paused once you made your way into the kitchen. Putting a pot of coffee on, you asked, “Chocolate chip pancakes okay for breakfast? They’re his favorite. I’ll probably make a little of everything else too; eggs, bacon, sausage, there’s fruit in the fridge.”

Eddie had to bite his tongue to keep the words ‘marry me’ from rolling off his lips. “Sounds incredible, baby. Anything I can do to help?”

“No, it’s okay.” Watching you methodically gather everything you needed from the fridge and cabinets, he figured he’d just get in your way if he tried to lend a hand. While you cooked, you mumbled through your prepared speech again, knowing it would never go so smoothly in actual conversation. Thinking about it more, you just hoped Lucas and Mike didn’t come back with him.

By the time he made it home, leaving his bike in the yard, you had made more than enough food and Eddie had already eaten his. Dustin was talking the second the door was open. “What’re you doing here, Eddie? Something going on with Hellfire?”

“Nice to see you too, Henderson.” He retorted, standing and flicking the bill of your brother’s hat into his eyes. “Your sister made you breakfast. I hear chocolate chip pancakes are your favorite.”

He eyed both of you suspiciously as he started toward the kitchen. "Yeah, what's it to you?" Eddie shared a confused look with you, but decided not to say anything. After he’d made his plate and sat down at the table to dig in, Dustin spoke again with a mouthful of food. “So, what’s with the special breakfast? Why’re you guys being weird?”

“We’re not being weird–”

“You’re alone at the house together,” He pointed out, still shoveling food into his face. “That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird– would you just listen? It’s not a big deal, I just wanted to run something by you, alright?” Eddie could tell you were fumbling, forgetting everything you’d planned to say. His hand itched to reach out for yours on the table, but he knew you wanted to get the words out first. “I’ve been–”

“Seeing Eddie?” Dustin interrupted. When the two of you shared a glance and you opened your mouth to question him, he continued. “Mike and Lucas told me last night.”

“How did they–” Eddie began, but Dustin cut him off.

“Apparently, everybody knew but me! All the guys in the band knew! Steve, Nancy, and Robin knew! How could you leave me out of the loop like this? You know I hate not knowing things! I have to know everything!”

“Dusty, calm down,” You said softly. “I wanted to wait until I actually had something to tell you. He’s your friend, I didn’t want to change the way you look at him just to go on a couple dates and decide it wasn’t gonna work.”

Nose wrinkling, he asked, “So, what? You guys are like– boyfriend and girlfriend now or something?”

You snorted and Eddie couldn’t help the small, smug smile creeping across his face. “Yeah, are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Back of your hand hitting his stomach, you tried not to laugh as you answered. “Yeah, I guess we are.” Turning back to your brother, you added, “Only if you’re okay with it, though. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel like you can’t trust Eddie anymore.”

“It’s kinda weird, but I guess I don’t care as long as you don’t make out and all that gross shit in front of me. And you’d better treat her right or me, Mike, and Lucas are all leaving Hellfire,” He tagged on pointedly.

“You don’t have to worry about that, you have my word.” He looked like he was about to say more, but opted to stay quiet.

“Okay, well, I think I’ve lost my appetite for now.” Dustin stood from the table, “I’m gonna go back to Mike’s and tell them they were right.”

Rolling your eyes, you started to clean up. “Be safe, I love you.” 

“Love you, too!” He shouted back just before he yanked the door shut.

As you started rinsing dishes in the sink, Eddie’s hands found your waist. “I think that went well.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t stay awkward for long,” You sighed lightly. “I guess Lucas and Mike did the hard part for us.”

“Guess so,” He drawled in agreement. “So, what now?”

“Now? Hmm…” Drying off your hands, you turned to loosely wrap your arms around his neck. “I guess now we do whatever we want, no more sneaking around.”

“I hope that’s not gonna suck the fun out of it for you.”

“‘Cause watching you Tetris yourself through my window is such a turn-on,” You scoffed.

He gave you a look of mock offendedness. “Good thing I won’t have to do it anymore, since you clearly don’t appreciate the athletic prowess it takes to climb through that window without waking your mom up.” 

Halfheartedly rolling your eyes yet again, you let your fingers dip past the neck of his shirt, fingers grazing along the top of his spine. “How about you roll us a joint and then I’ll show you how much I appreciate your ‘athletic prowess’?”

“You drive a hard bargain, babe,” He sighed theatrically. “But you know it’s an offer I can’t refuse.”

“Obviously,” Lacing your fingers through his, you dragged him toward your room. “That’s why I offered.”

As the three boys gathered at Mike’s house again, he asked, “Wait, we were right?”

Lucas stood, pointing at him. “I TOLD YOU, MAN!” 

Mike tried to argue, “I NEVER SAID–”

“I TOLD YOU!”

“GUYS, SHUT THE HELL UP!” Dustin interjected.

Lucas cleared his throat as the two of them settled back into their seats. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“So, you’re really okay with Eddie dating your sister? I mean, it’s not gonna make Hellfire awkward or anything, is it?” Mike questioned.

“I don’t know, it’s weird. It’ll definitely be nasty seeing them all lovey-dovey or whatever, but they’re still just Eddie and my sister. As long as they don’t act different, I won’t act different.” Turning on the TV, Dustin flopped onto the couch next to Mike. “Besides, I think part of me knew they’d hit it off– I’m like a natural matchmaker. They just have too much in common, ya know?”

part one | part two | tmic masterlist

tags: @adequate-superstar @akiratoro420 @bbciwp @trixyvixx @yujyujj @nope-thanks @broccolisoupy @spookybabey @comboboo @thecraziestcrayon @mommybaby-witch @imvirginia17 @therensistance @peacheskiwi @skyfullofsong123 @hcneyedsstuff @aysheashea @prestinalove @ungracefularchimedes @psychospore @bellaisasleep @untoldshortsofthefandoms @ficsaremylife @ohmeg @twirls827 @bellasfavoritesweatpants @sebastiansstanswhore @444aslut444 @ourautumn86 @dream-a-little-nightmare @extrainsanity @poniesandcupcakes @trln @cantreadbutcute @kennedy-brooke @navs-bhat @sluggzillaa @whatwedontdointheshadows @saayanaaa @depressedacidtest @unholyyylita @m-chmcl-rmnc @pullhisteeth @vivalasv3gan @a3trogirl @thesagewitchh @djoseph-quinn @darlingdixon

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[wlntrsldler]

how to disappear | luke castellan

warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)

part 2: shades of cool

pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke

description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey

i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.

"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."

"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."

he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."

"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."

he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.

luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."

you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"

"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."

"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."

"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."

"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"

luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."

you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.

at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.

this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.

"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"

"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."

"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"

"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."

"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."

"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."

luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.

you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."

"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."

"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.

"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."

"does she?"

"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."

"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."

"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."

luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."

you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.

"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."

he squeezed your hand, "yeah."

ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.

"castellan."

luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.

he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."

"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."

"castellan."

he cringed, "sorry."

"what happened?"

"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."

you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."

"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.

"how bad are they?"

"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."

"why didn't you come find me?"

"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."

"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."

"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."

you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."

luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."

you cocked your head, "huh?"

"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."

you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."

"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.

"what?"

"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."

it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.

you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.

in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.

you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.

luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.

luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.

it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.

but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.

"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."

sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.

you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.

iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.

luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.

percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.

he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.

luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.

it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.

luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.

as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.

you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.

he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.

"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."

luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.

"what are you doing here?"

"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."

"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.

"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"

"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."

"do you trust him?"

luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?

luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."

"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."

"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."

"it's just me, luke."

he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.

this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.

"'m sorry, angel."

"you're acting different, luke."

"'m sorry."

"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."

luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"

"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.

"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."

"you don't have to be mean about it."

he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."

you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"

"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"

"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."

he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.

"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"

"i know."

"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."

"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."

"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.

luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."

selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.

an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.

"i love you, you know that, right?"

luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.

iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.

"i love you."

you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.

you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.

"what are you doing here, castellan?"

it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.

"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."

"why did you do it?"

"i don't know."

"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"

"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."

"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."

luke was silent.

"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."

he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.

you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.

[joonie-beanie]

Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.

Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???

Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.

You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends. 

You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.

Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals. 

At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.

Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around. 

Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).

So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.

“Jesus Christ, Peter.”

You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.

With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.

Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.

Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.

“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.

“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants. 

“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”

You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.

“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”

Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.

“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to. 

“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”

“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”

You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a smile.

The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.

You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.

“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.

“Listen, this is way better than beer.”

Honestly, you can’t disagree.

“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”

It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.

“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”

Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.

Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.

“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.

“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”

“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”

“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”

Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.

After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like. 

At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.

“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.

“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”

Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.

You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”

“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”

Peter places a hand on his stomach.

“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.

“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.

Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—

His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off. 

“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.

“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”

He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh. 

Same ‘ol Peter.

Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons. 

No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.

And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now

Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.

…but like, what kind of side-gig?

Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go. 

You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is! 

And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??

“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.

Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.

Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.

And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.

But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode. 

So…he goes snooping. 

It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).

He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.

Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.

He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.

Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)

The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.

Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—

—and immediately slams it back down.

…veiny, pink, silicon—

Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.

All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)

Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.

A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.

Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.

…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.

“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything. 

He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.

In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”. 

Hi there! 

I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.

Thanks!

Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.

He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling. 

How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.

And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.

Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.

…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.

The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.

As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.

While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.

Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door. 

Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—

Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights. 

You stare at him in shock.

“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”

“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.

“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway. 

“I thought I told you to just trust me?”

You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word. 

“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?

“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet. 

He’s half hard. Fuck.

If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.

Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”

“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.

He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction. 

Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?

(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)

“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water. 

Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?

At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—

…wait.

Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.

Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.

“Did you read it…?”

Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.

Busted…

You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.

HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!

“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion. 

Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.

“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”

If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.

“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”

His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.

“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”

The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.

“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”

“Really?”

There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.

“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”

Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”

You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—

“Yeah? Show me then.”

You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move. 

Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.

You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.

Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—

Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.

“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you. 

You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.

You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back. 

You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.

It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.

Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.

“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.

“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.

“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”

(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.

“Think Spiderman whimpers?”

You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.

“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”

Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.

He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.  

“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.

He needs your tits in his mouth.

“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed. 

The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting. 

And, that’s exactly what he does.

He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.

You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.

You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—

“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving. 

Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants. 

“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.

You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.

Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—

“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”

“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.

“Maybe.”

Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.

Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.

Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.

He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.

Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.

His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.

“Shit.”

His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—

He presses a finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves. 

You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.

Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.

The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.

“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.

“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers. 

Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.

After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.

You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…

You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.

“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.

“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.

You sigh, scooting backwards.

“Fine.”

You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen. 

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.

You can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.

“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.

“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.

“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.

By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.

“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.

“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll help.”

With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him. 

And god, you feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.

The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.

“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”

His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face. 

His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.

With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.

He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.

An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.

“Peter,” you sob into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”

As if you could stop.

Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.

The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you. 

You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.

“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”

Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.

“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”

You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.

He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.

“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him. 

“Mmmm, no?”

He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.

“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.

“Very. I…really missed that.”

“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.

“Same? You haven’t—?”

“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.

“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”

Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him. 

You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.

“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”

“Hey now—!” 

Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.

“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”

You sigh, wriggling around to face him.

“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”

“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom. 

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”

Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.

30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.

You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?

Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.

“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.

You bend over to pick it up.

Hey!

Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!

Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p

-PB

PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?

You can’t help but laugh.

What an idiot. 

But…you like him.

[peppermint-toads]

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗?

𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 long time no see and 80s slasher summer is here

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 light piv sex, insecure reader, 1.4k words, bad grammar and smut writing sry

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you and eddie are camp counselors and hookup every summer, but it’s not enough for you and poor eddie baby

“Miss me, Munson?” You asked from the door, waving away the milky smoke that pillowed from his spot on his bunk.

Twelve summers at Camp Blue Lake had led you and Eddie into your early adulthood where you’d become counselors.

As the summers got hotter and you grew older, you and Eddie had started an annual summer fling of sorts, a tradition, really.

Like clockwork, you would sneak away during the evenings when the campers were in the mess hall, making the most of every moment whether it was in his bunk or yours, the art cabin, or sometimes the woods.

You popped your hip out, hoping he would like the new shorts you bought for the season.

He rolled his head towards you, looking you up and down to see what time apart had done to you. He tried to look uninterested. He was shirtless, and you couldn’t help but ogle. He’d gotten new tattoos.

“Don’t you know this kinda thing is bad luck? You know what happened to those counselors in Friday the 13th, right?”

“What? Did the Hawkins girls treat you too well this year?” Your dejected tone didn’t go unnoticed, even though you tried to conceal it with a smirk.

You thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend and didn’t need you anymore.

Truth was, Eddie dreaded seeing you more and more each summer because leaving you was getting harder and harder. And missing you was even worse.

He laughed a little as he exhaled.

“Not quite.”

His smile faded into something sad as he succumbed to your pretty face staring at him with an insecurity he wasn’t used to.

“Indianapolis boys treat you well?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t even bothered with other boys since the summer of ‘85; you were completely and totally hung up on Eddie.

“You don’t have yourself a little boyfriend, huh?”

He sat up on his palms, finally nodding you over to him. You plopped onto his tiny bunk happily, snatching his joint from his fingers.

“You don’t have to say it, it’s okay. I know you missed me.”

He scoffed.

You lie on your side, facing him and taking in all of the features you missed so much during the year. At some point, he’d worked up the courage to run his fingers softly across your cheek and through your hair.

It was slow and shy, but it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot how to love Eddie.

You watched him carefully, and he watched you back.

“It’s gonna be a hot summer,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His hand stopped and you frowned.

“D’you think Brad will wear those denim cutoffs this year?”

You sighed dreamily, “I can only hope.”

Eddie smacked your shoulder. “Hey!”

After a short fit of giggles, silence settled over the empty cabin again, and the buzzing of the cicadas became overpowering.

“If you don’t want to… you know… hook up or whatever you can just say so.” He sighed.

As if he hadn’t already stashed heaps of trojans underneath his thin mattress.

“Why wouldn’t I? We do it every summer? Unless—unless you don’t want to.”

You could feel the heat rising in your throat and heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Eddie really had probably found some sweet girl in Hawkins and felt too bad to tell you—

“Of course I do!” He rushed out. “I just thought I would… dunno, give you an out?”

You weren’t the only one feeling insecure. You decided to do the one thing you knew best.

The thing that always calmed you down. The thing that you did to celebrate winning color wars for the fifth summer in a row. The thing you missed so much while you were apart.

His lips felt the same as you remembered, instantly calming you despite the taste of stale weed on his tongue.

Usually, the first hookups of the camp season were eager and excited, squeezed in before the campers were set to arrive. But as you sunk down onto Eddie’s dick, something felt different. There was no rush.

The smell of his hairspray mixed with the heavy, humid air of the cabin, and the way Eddie felt so deep in your stomach after months without him almost made you cry.

He was so soft with you, and his eyebrows stayed knit together as he watched your breaths become more shallow and skin more flushed.

Everything felt so familiar, and as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder you could barely contain the words nagging your tongue. I love you, Eddie. Please, please, please. I can’t spend another minute away from you I—

His soft grunting pulled you from your thoughts. You could tell he was getting close.

Psycho. You’re just his summer fling. Always have been, always will be.

You told yourself that, but you didn’t believe it.

Maybe Eddie could tell it had been a while since you’d had sex, because you were already whimpering into his shoulder like you did when you were close. But you could tell he was in the same boat.

The last time you’d had sex with anybody was a year ago in the very same spot on the last night of camp. You’d snuck away during the closing bonfire to feel each other one last time. That was the first time you’d let him fuck you without a condom.

When you collapsed onto Eddie’s chest, the setting sun was seeping through the damp and rotting wood of cabin 5, clinging to your sweaty skin.

“Campers will be here soon. We should probably set up for s’mores.” You said absentmindedly, tracing shapes onto his skin.

“Those slackers Brad and Cindy can do it. Let’s stay like this for a little longer.

Eventually you had to get up, the bustle of the rest of the counselors arriving meant soon the cabin would be occupied by campers, and you decidedly would not be reliving the incident where Tommy found your pair of Tuesday panties. He attached them to a stick and ran around the grounds screaming “Girl panties, girl panties!”

As the hours passed, more and more campers came tripping out of their cabins and onto the lawn where the girls huddled around each other trading scrunchies and talking about the boys they hoped to kiss that summer, and the boys played tag in the dark after seeing whose feet had grown the biggest.

The night sky blanketed the camp, and you relaxed into Eddie’s side, listening to the screeching and laughing of the campers.

“You remember our first kiss?” You asked him.

Eddie smiled and hummed deep in his throat.

“Mhm, right here in front of this very campfire.”

“We were what? 15?”

“Yeah, and everybody went down to the lake and we stayed back. Then you just laid one on me.”

“That is so not true!” You whined. “You so kissed me first, asshole!”

“I’m remembering it a little differently, sweetheart.”

Eddie had kissed you first. He was shaking and stumbling over his every word as he leaned in, bracing himself for you to shove him away from you. Really you were just as nervous, sweating because you thought you might’ve had marshmallow stuck in your braces.

Quiet settled over you again, and the sounds of the cicadas were back droning in your ears.

“I was thinking about moving into the city, you know. Getting my own place and all.”

“Really?” You asked, sitting up to face him.

Your face was bathed in orange light, and he swore he’d do anything for you.

He nodded.

“Dave said I could work at one of his shops in Indianapolis, like a transfer.”

“What about Wayne?”

You knew why Eddie was moving, and you wouldn’t be the reason he left his uncle.

Eddie just scoffed. “He’s got a new lady friend, Darlene. He’s plenty occupied.”

You smiled. “That could be nice, then.”

“I was also thinking about taking you on a date. Someplace without mosquitoes?”

“You going all soft on me, Munson?”

“Oh absolutely not, I’m still gonna bang your brains out after. Just thought we could go somewhere nicer than the mess hall beforehand.”

“What do you mean? Chef Agatha’s cooking is totally romantic.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie’s side, your chest and stomach warming at the idea of finally getting to be his.

[pizzaqueen]

What’s that? Another first kiss ficlet from me?? Just over 500 words of fluff

“When was the last time you kissed someone?” Steve pauses, then adds, “Or were kissed.” Because there’s a difference. At least, Steve thinks there is. He’s usually the one doing the kissing but there have been a few times when he’s been kissed and… It’s definitely different.

“What?” Eddie looks up from where he’s rolling a joint, brow furrowed. “I don’t— Huh?”

“Kissing.” Steve leans on his elbow, propping his head on his hand. “When was the last time you did it.” He thinks a moment. “No, the last time you were really good and properly kissed.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know…” Steve lifts one shoulder. “Just the last really good perfect kiss.”

“I don’t know.”

“If you don’t wanna talk about it…”

“I just don’t know.”

“Really?”

Eddie looks at Steve for a moment then rolls off the bed, going over to fiddle with the stereo. “Yeah, really.”

And that’s not right. Eddie should know when he was last kissed. He should be kissed all the time. By Steve, preferably.

Steve goes over, leaning back against the dresser so he can look at Eddie, but Eddie isn’t looking at him. Shit. He kicks Eddie’s foot and says, “Hey, man, it’s cool.”

Eddie sighs, ejecting a tape and switching it over to the other side. He looks at Steve. “It’s been years since I kissed anyone, okay, and it was… It was the wrong person. It was awkward and…” He shakes his head. “Not really a lot of opportunity for me to kiss the right kind of person in Hawkins.”

Oh. Steve has wondered. Mostly at the back of his mind, but… The way Eddie doesn’t talk about things like kissing, or dates, or sex makes sense. Well, he doesn’t talk about them in specifics. It’s always vague. “That’s not right.”

“What?”

“I mean, you should be kissed.”

“Why?”

“You just should be.” Steve leans a little closer, heart beating hard.

Eddie presses play and crosses his arms over his chest. “You got any volunteers in mind?”

“I might.” Steve looks at Eddie a moment, then he reaches out, curling his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, tugging until Eddie unfolds his arms. “But it depends how you feel about the person I’m thinking of.”

Eddie looks over Steve’s face, searching, and then he says, “I don’t— I don’t wanna be wrong about this,” and Steve slides his hand down until he’s palm to palm with Eddie. Eddie makes a choked little noise and laces his fingers with Steve’s. He raises his brows in question, looking at Steve so open and hopeful that Steve’s chest squeezes tight.

So, he pulls on their joined hands, raises his other to cup Eddie’s face, and softly, gently kisses him. He kisses him and kisses him, the way Eddie should be kissed, the way he hopes—is pretty sure—Eddie wants to be kissed. And then Eddie brings his hand up to Steve’s face and then Eddie is kissing him. And it’s so so good.

When they part, Eddie licks his lips and says, “Today.”

“What?”

“That was the last time I was good and properly kissed.”

Steve smiles and says, “It won’t be the last time,” and he kisses Eddie again.

[norrisleclercf1]

If we're talking dad thots what about Jenson or any of the older drivers when told their wife is expecting?

A/N: I'm writing this for Jenson and Mark because I can and I think it'd be cute

Jenson and Presenter!Wife:

You couldn't wait to tell Jenson; you were so excited, and nothing could make this moment more perfect than announcing it to everyone but also Jenson. You had it all planned and you had the help of Will and Laura.

Hell, a lot of the people that worked here still remembers the first time you and Jenson went out on a date 14 years ago, and now here you were about to announce your pregnancy. "You ready?" Laura asks, fixing your hair and you nod as it wasn't every day that SkySports and F1TV got to do a joint broadcast and you were so excited.

"Well, my two favorite ladies, and Will, you ready?" You giggle as Will rolls his eyes at your husband and you nod. "Yes, we're ready." You stand and grab the little box and hide it as Jenson bends down kissing you as you two walk to your spots.

Everything goes well and you notice the cameraman give you a signal and you nod and step forward. "And honestly, this has been an amazing opportunity for me. And as everyone know, Jenson and I have been together for about 14 years and we've always been the Button Duo, but sadly in about 10 months I'll be having to take a break," You pull open the box and show off the onesie that says baby Button on the back.

Everyone laughs as Jenson drops his mic and walks over turning you to face him. "Are you serious?" You giggle and jump up and down so excited that you finally told him. "Yes! We're going to be parents." Jenson can't help himself as he breaks down into tears, gathering you in his arms as everyone pops little confetti poppers. "I love you so much," Jenson whispers and kissing your cheeks.

Mark and Roo

"Oscar you didn't have to help me," You remind the young Aussie but he shrugs his shoulders, he liked spending time on the ranch. It was quiet and you and Mark let him train but still enjoy the fun of being in Australia. "Nah, I like helping you anyway Y/n, besides you shouldn't work yourself to hard." Oscar holds up the kangaroo with a little joey in the pouch.

"Are you making a joke about my nickname be Roo and me being pregnant?" You ask and Oscar chuckles and finishes fixing the box that you're using to tell Mark you're pregnant. "Yes, and it's funny. He'll get a kick out of it," Oscar comes around the table and kisses your cheek. "Lily and I will be down swimming, let me know how it goes," You pat his head which he leans into before walking off.

Mark would be due inside soon with the dogs and you go placing the box on the bed. Smiling to yourself you run to the livingroom and sit down in your favorite chair and turn on your show. "Roo, I'm back, the damn dogs wanted to play, yes you did." You giggle at his baby voice and see him walk in pulling off his shirt, covered in sweat.

"Kiss?" You lean back smelling him and twitch your noise. "Please, go shower," Mark chuckles and nods his head. "When did Oscar leave?" He yells down the hall and you smirk. "About 10 minutes ago, he and Lily are going swimming." You wait for a reply and turn in your chair.

"Mark?" You yell down the hall, not hearing anything you get up and walk down the hall and push open your bedroom door. Mark sat in the edge of the bed holding the little kangaroo and joey. "Are you pregnant?" He asks, his eyes filled with so much hope and want.

"Yeah, we're having a baby," You pull out the pregnancy test and hand it to him. "We're having a baby," He whispers and drops to his knees and hugs you as he kisses your stomach. "We're having a baby," You giggle and wrap your arms around him.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 10: People Might Think You Care About Me

You and Joel spend the holidays together. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 9, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Again, I'm here begging HBO to give me something to use for young Joel PLZ

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of dieting and diet culture. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.8K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I can’t believe my kid is going to like you better than me,” Joel said, sitting in the middle of the living room floor with a roll of wrapping paper spread out in front of him. “Scissors.” 

You handed them over before grabbing the tape, putting a piece on the tip of your finger before folding the paper around the box - a friendship bracelet kit - that you were wrapping for Sarah. 

“I mean, first of all, your kid already likes me more than she likes you,” you teased, turning the box to do the other side. “She has good taste…” 

“You’re the worst.” 

“Second,” you said, ignoring him. “It is a joint gift, you’re getting tons of cool dad points out of this.” 

“She’s gonna know it was your idea,” he said, adjusting the gift he was wrapping. “Hell, she’s gonna know that only one of us could have gotten tickets and it ain’t me.”

As if on cue, Swiftie - Sarah’s kitten - pounced on the box Joel was wrapping. 

“Yeah, this one knows, too,” he said, scooping her up with one large hand and setting her down. “I miss when she wanted Barbies. Shit was easier.” 

You laughed. 

“Be happy she’s excited about anything enough that she’s going to freak out over Taylor Swift tickets,” you said. “She’s about to be a disaffected teenager, enjoy it while it lasts.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” he muttered, “She’s stubborn enough as it is.” 

“You’re in for it, Miller,” you said as your cat, Puck, climbed on your lap. You reached around him to finish taping the package you were wrapping. “She’s going to give you so much shit…” 

“What if she’s just like you, hm?” Joel teased. “Gonna have a nerd for a kid…” 

“Hey, I was a nerd who snuck out at night to go get drunk with the boneheaded jock,” you teased back. “You really want her to be just like me?” 

“Jesus, you’re right,” Joel shook his head, finishing wrapping his present. “I’ll have to keep her far away from anyone like me for the sake of us all.” 

You snorted and finished wrapping your own gift before scooping Puck into your arms, nuzzling into his fur and giving him a kiss on the head before settling with your back against your couch as you looked at the lights on the tree.

It was Christmas Eve, the first one in years you were spending without Gale and you’d never been more thankful for Joel. 

Last year, you and Gale were separated but you’d felt so alone that you’d texted him the afternoon of Christmas Eve and spent most of the night and next day in bed. You’d tricked yourself then, pretended there was a chance in hell of the two of you getting back together and things going back to the way they used to be. 

That hadn’t happened. You’d spent New Year’s Eve in bed, too. Except that time, you were alone. 

You’d been afraid that was going to happen for you this holiday season, too. You asked Anna what she had planned for Christmas, fully expecting her to want to spend the day together. She had other things in mind. 

“Honestly, ever since Mom died?” She’d shrugged. “I love using it as a day to just chill. Binge watch TV I’ve been meaning to catch up on, eat a pile of Chinese food, maybe take a bath… It’s pretty boring but I love it. And since I’ve got this little bundle on the way, I’m extra looking forward to it this year.” 

“Oh,” you forced a smile, trying to hide your disappointment. “No, that sounds great.” 

“Oh God,” she clamped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide for a moment. “Did you want to do something? I’m so sorry, I should have…” 

“”No,” you waved her off quickly. “No, you’re good! I don’t want to disrupt your plans…” 

“You can join if you want!” She said. “I mean, for everything but the bath part, that might be a little much now that we’re not kids anymore.” 

“No,” you said again. “You have fun! Tradition is tradition and you need the break. Maybe I’ll do the same.” 

You should have known that she would have her own way of doing things. You’d all but abandoned her during your marriage, sending perfunctory text messages and holiday cards and flying her up for a long weekend every year or so but, otherwise, you went weeks without talking. Of course she had Christmas plans that didn’t involve you. Why would she have any that did? 

Joel, however, had done what he’d always done since you’d moved back to Texas: Made room for you in his life. 

“Know you and Anna probably already got plans but,” he’d shrugged two weeks earlier. “If you don’t… want to spend Christmas with me n’Sarah? Tommy, too, assuming he doesn’t con his way into dinner at some girl’s house. S’OK if you don’t, just figured… I dunno…” 

You’d smiled, bigger than you’d really meant to. 

“You want me to spend Christmas with you?” 

“I want you to spend most days with me,” he shrugged. “But you know, we gotta go out in the world and make money and shit. Anyway, Christmas. You in? Could just move in until the New Year if you really wanted…” 

The last part wasn’t going to work with your obligation to go try to write a book once Christmas was through. But you had spent the last two nights at Joel’s, bringing Puck over to play with Sarah and Swiftie as the three of you watched Christmas movies and binged cookies. No papers to grade, no lawyers calling because your attorneys’ offices were closed, no pressure because you already had time set aside to write. You could really relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and relaxing with Joel and Sarah was quickly becoming your favorite thing in the entire world. 

But all that relaxing had meant there was a small pile of presents that weren’t wrapped that needed to make it under the tree. It was Christmas Eve and time had run out. 

“You need to stop procrastinating,” you said, getting your egg nog that was now mostly liquor off the coffee table and taking a sip. “Can’t get away with that shit when you’re a business owner.” 

“Just watch me,” he teased. “Besides, you’re one to talk, you made any progress on that book?” 

“That’s what next week is for,” you said, giving the cat a kiss just as he started to get restless in your arms. You set him down. “Fingers crossed having nothing else to do will make me churn out the words.” 

“Wild to me that you make money from what’s in your head,” Joel came and sat next to you. “Not that I think you shouldn’t, if anyone should it’s you. Just that anyone does at all is insane.” 

“Well, I may not make money off it for long if I can’t write anything else,” you sighed. “Know what? Let’s not talk about next week. I want to live in this moment - the one where we don’t have any worries and the presents are all under the tree and Sarah is passed out - for a while longer yet.” 

Joel hummed in agreement and you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly. You could smell his skin and cologne and there was still a little bacon scent from when he’d made breakfast for the three of you that morning. 

“Think she’ll have a good Christmas?” Joel asked quietly, the two of you watching the lights twinkle on his tree. 

“Hell yeah,” you smiled a little. “You really are an amazing Dad, Joel.” 

He scoffed. 

“I’m serious,” you peered up at him. “You’re lucky to have Sarah but she’s lucky as hell to have you, too. She’s going to love it.” 

“Speaking of parents… anything new in the Anna situation?” Joel asked cautiously. 

“It’s a girl,” you sighed. “But she seems to be keeping up with everything, thank God. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe this is the kick in the ass she’s been needing…” 

“Was for me,” Joel shrugged, making your head rise with his shoulder. 

You sighed again. 

“Just seems like an awful lot to put on a kid,” you said. “And you might have been young and dumb but you didn’t have the shit Anna’s got on her plate. It’s a bit of a different story with her.” 

“She might surprise you. But either way, we’ll make up a room for the little sucker here,” Joel said. “Just to be safe.” 

“Regardless, that’s next year Goldie and Joel’s problem,” you said. “And thank fuck for that.” 

“Yeah, fuck those two,” you could hear the smile on Joel’s voice. “Let’s put the wrapping paper away and go to bed, something about Santa and knowing when you’re sleeping and all that.”

You cleaned up the living room and tried not to pay attention to the nighttime routine you’d fallen into with Joel in the few days you’d been staying with him. You had your own sink in Joel’s bathroom, one that had your hair products and face wash lined up alongside it. You had your own side of the bed with your own nightstand where the book you’d been reading the last few days was nearing its end and waiting for you. If you thought about it too much, you’d miss it when it was gone. If you thought about it too much, it might seem like something you could keep.

Joel made his customary space at his side and you nestled into him, your head on his chest where you could hear his heart beat. His fingers trailed up and down your arm. 

“There are upsides to a kid, you know,” he said quietly. “Christmas morning is one of ‘em. Just wait.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Stop keeping me awake and we won’t have to wait long,” you said. 

Joel snorted. 

“Yeah yeah. Night Goldie.” 

“Night Joel.” 

Sarah came careening into Joel’s room before 7 a.m., slamming into the bed so hard that it made your teeth rattle. 

“Dad! Aunt Goldie!” She shook you both. “Wake up, it’s Christmas!” 

“Yeah, alright,” Joel groaned, taking his warm arm from its place around your shoulders. You groaned, too. “You stay here with Goldie while I go put the coffee pot on and get set up to record you…” 

Sarah groaned. 

“Seriously?” 

“Seriously,” he said. “Sit tight, five minutes.” 

You rolled onto your back and blinked the sleep from your eyes, Sarah bouncing impatiently on the bed. You lifted your head enough to look at her, curls sticking every which way, and you dropped back down onto the pillow with a groan. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, kid,” you said. 

“Yeah, that’s what my dad says,” she said cheerfully and you could picture her smile as she did. 

“Alright, come on out,” Joel called from the living room. Sarah rocketed off the bed and you laughed as you got up yourself, trailing behind her and trying not to yawn. 

“Oh cool!” Sarah flopped down beside her stocking and started going through it as you got to the living room. Joel was sitting on the couch, his phone set up on a tripod in the corner and pointed at the tree. “These are those face mask things I said I wanted! And the headbands for soccer!” 

“I do pay attention now and then, baby girl,” Joel said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Don’t you mean Santa pays attention?” You asked, sitting next to him on the couch. Joel handed you a cup of coffee, made exactly how you liked it.

“I know Santa’s not real, Aunt Goldie,” Sarah rolled her eyes and gave you a look. “I’m 11, not a kid.” 

Joel snorted. 

“Sorry,” you said. “My mistake.” 

“Don’t spoil Santa for Goldie,” Joel said before reaching down on the ground next to him. “Speaking of which…” 

He handed you a fat stocking and you frowned a little as you took it. 

“You made me a stocking?” You asked, tears pinching at your throat. “No one’s made me a stocking since I was in high school…” 

“Then you’re real overdue,” he smiled a little and went back to watching Sarah as she unwrapped a chocolate Santa and stuffed the entire thing in her mouth. “Alright, let’s not eat all the candy in one sitting…” 

“But it’s Christmas!” She said, voice muffled around the chocolate. 

“Still gonna get sick,” he replied. 

You started unpacking the stocking, pulling two pairs of fuzzy socks out of the top. 

“Because your feet are always freezing,” he said, looking back at you. “Figured one pair for here, one for your house…” 

“Thank you,” you smiled, going back into the stocking. There was some of your favorite candy, one of the face masks Sarah had, a bottle of gold nail polish. 

“We can do a spa day!” She beamed. 

“We can,” you laughed, looking at Joel who just shrugged, a small smile on his face. 

At the bottom of the stocking was a chunky gold pen, thick plastic encasing glitter and you turned it over in your fingers, frowning for a moment at just how familiar it felt. 

“Saw one like the one you had when we were kids years ago,” Joel said. “Bought it on a whim, thought you might want it.” 

You wanted to say thank you but you couldn’t seem to make a sound, the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just threw your arms around his neck and he laughed a little when he caught you, his hand sliding over your side and around to your back. 

You stayed close to Joel and watched as Sarah tore through her presents, the envelope with the concert tickets safely in Joel’s possession. 

“Hey Sarah,” you said eventually. “Can you hand me that box under there that’s for your dad?” 

Joel frowned as Sarah got the box, setting it on the coffee table in front of Joel and hovering as he went to open it. 

“Didn’t need to get me anything,” he said. 

“Too damn bad,” you said. “Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing crazy.” 

He opened it. Inside were two shot glasses, leather wrapped with a monogrammed M burned into it. 

“I thought you needed some accessories for the flask,” you smiled. 

He laughed. 

“We gotta break these in,” he said, looking them over. “They even look like they match…” 

“May have gotten Tommy to send me pictures,” you said. “Keep going, one more thing in there.” 

He shifted the tissue paper before pulling out a cassette tape, frowning at it for a moment. 

“What…” 

“I know your stereo is old enough that it plays tapes,” you said, palm out. “Hand it over.” 

He laughed once but obeyed and you went to put the tape in, adjusting the volume so it wouldn’t be too loud. It crackled a bit at the start and then Joel’s voice - almost 20 years younger but still so familiar - filled the room.

“My name is Joel Miller,” he said. “I play guitar and sing, mostly rock, little country…” 

Joel gaped at the stereo before looking to you. 

“Is this that old demo tape we made when we were kids?” He asked. You laughed and nodded. “Holy… where the hell’d you find this thing?” 

“I kept one,” you shrugged. “Thought it might give you a nudge toward playing again.” 

The Joel on tape started playing and Sarah came and sat between the two of you on the couch, looking up at her dad. 

“So that’s you?” She asked. 

“Sure is,” he said. “Long time ago, I was closer to your age then than mine now.” 

“What’s it for?” She asked. 

“Well,” Joel looked over her head to you and smiled a little before looking back at his daughter. “I always liked playing, wanted to be a singer for a while. Goldie here talked me into making some demo tapes to give to places around here that had open mic nights so I could actually play for people. Worked, too. Had a few places I played pretty often for a bit in there thanks to that tape.” 

“Why’d you stop?” She frowned. “You were good.” 

Joel shrugged. 

“Bigger things to do,” he kissed the top of her head. “Though speaking of music… think there might be one more thing for you under the tree.” 

Sarah’s frown deepened and she went to look around, picking her way through wrapping paper and but not finding it. 

“There’s nothing over here, Dad,” she said. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh, right,” Joel said, giving you a wink and pulling the envelope out of the pocket of his pajama pants. “Here it is.” 

She jumped over some of the boxes scattered over the floor and took the envelope from him, her eyebrows knitting together as she read the writing on the front. 

“To the swiftest music fan?” She said, looking up from the envelope and at the two of you. 

You just shrugged. 

“Gonna have to open it, kiddo,” Joel said. 

She slipped her fingers below the seal and pulled out the card, two pieces of paper falling to the ground before she had a chance to read it. She picked them up and unfolded them, reading the first one. 

“It says we have a hotel room in Dallas?” She looked at Joel. 

“Gotta read the other paper, baby girl,” he said. “That’s the important one. And the one from Aunt Goldie.” 

She flipped to that page next and only held it for a moment before shrieking and throwing herself at you, knocking you back into the couch. 

“You got Eras Tour tickets?” She pulled back, half on top of you and half on the couch. You just laughed and nodded. “Oh my GOD, thank you thank you thank you, you’re the best! OH MY GOD!” 

“Well your dad is the one getting us there and making sure we have a place to stay,” you said. “So hug him, too.” 

“Thank you!” She threw herself at him, too, and he laughed, catching her and giving her a squeeze. “This is the best present ever, it’s going to be the best time, I can’t wait! We’re going to see Taylor Swift! Oh my GOD, I have to tell my friends!” 

She shot off to her room to get her phone and Joel laughed, looking over at you. 

“OK I don’t even care that she likes you better n’me now,” he said. “She’s that happy? Worth it.” 

“We’ll see how we feel after a few days wrangling her for the Taylor Swift concert,” you said, watching where she’d disappeared up the stairs. “But… yeah, definitely worth it.” 

“Hey,” Joel said, voice oddly earnest. You looked over at him. “Thanks for loving my kid.” 

You smiled a little. 

“She’s yours,” you said. “How could I not?” 

Tommy came over a few hours later, once the turkey was in the oven and the wrapping paper was cleaned up off the floor. He gave Sarah a five pound bag of Sour Patch Kids and said “don’t tell your dad” before kissing the top of her head as she scampered off to stash her hoard in her room. He greeted you with a hug with a tight squeeze on the end and you still couldn’t quite get used to just how adult he was. There was part of you that still saw him as the little kid who trailed after you and Joel, the one who sometimes begged to go to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard. Now, he was nearly as tall as his older brother, drinking a beer and talking to Joel about a woman named Maria he’d just started dating. It was an odd reminder of just how much time you’d lost with Joel, just how much had changed. 

The four of you had dinner - Tommy teasing Sarah more like a loving older brother than an uncle, making you smile - and, before too long, the day was done. 

Sarah insisted on listening to Taylor Swift while she got ready for bed and Joel read to her from an Artemis Fowl book, you eavesdropping on Joel doing the voices from your place in the living room while the cats curled up around you. 

A keen sense of belonging settled over you then, as you held a mug of cocoa in one hand and the other rested on the back of your large, orange cat. This, you thought, was where you belonged. In this space, in this time, alongside these people. 

How could you ever hope to find this anywhere else? How were you ever supposed to recover from this stubborn crush if Joel was the place you felt most like home? 

“You OK?” Joel asked, hovering toward the top of the stairs, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants. 

“Yeah,” you smiled and gave Puck a scratch and let yourself have the feeling. “I’m good.” 

You got up early the next morning, Joel barely awake enough to help carry your bags to the car. 

“See you New Year’s Eve,” he said, his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants and his hair in total disarray. “Better have that damn book done by then.” 

“Do you really think you can write an entire book in a week?” You asked, brows raised. 

“I dunno,” he said. “You’re the smart one, you tell me.” 

You rolled your eyes and he laughed a little. 

“Alright, I’m goin’ back to bed,” he said. “Text me when you get there, have fun being a genius.” 

“Hey,” you called to him as he made it halfway back up his walk. He turned to face you, frowning slightly. “Thanks. For being my friend.” 

An expression you couldn’t place passed over his face before he smiled a little. 

“Careful,” he said. “Talk like that enough, people might think you care about me and shit.” 

“Well, we can’t have that,” you said. “See you in a few days.” 

He watched you drive off and you made your way to the hill country and the cabin Stephanie had reserved for you. You’d insisted that it have extra bedrooms and a hot tub and were surprised that she hadn’t pushed back on it. 

“Whatever you need to get the job done, you’ve got it,” she said after sending you links to some cabins. “I’m just here to facilitate.” 

You stopped on the way for groceries, stocking up so you wouldn’t need to leave the house once you settled in. You went with most of your standbys for cooking for one and watching the careful diet you’d been on for years but then thought of Joel bringing you tamales and plying you with cookies over the last few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did need to live a little. You got the stuff to make the bagel sandwiches, too. 

The cabin was damn near idyllic, all stone and wood with huge windows looking out at the brush leading down to the lake in the backyard. The hot tub was set on the back porch, a fire pit in the yard and rocking chairs out front. The kitchen was large and reasonably well equipped and there were enough bedrooms that Joel, Tommy and Sarah could have their own when they all joined you for New Year’s Eve. There was even a desk set up near a window that overlooked the water and you set up your laptop and charger and got out your notebook with the pen from your Christmas stocking, arranging everything just so. 

“Alright,” you said to no one after you got the groceries put away and made yourself a cup of coffee before settling in at the desk to write. “Let’s do this.” 

And… you tried. You really, truly did. 

Day one, you got most of an outline done. Enough of one that you went to bed feeling somewhat accomplished and felt good treating yourself to a bagel sandwich in the morning. But then, when you sat down to work on the next part for day two, you weren’t sure you liked any of it anymore. You pressed on, anyway. Day three, you tried to write the first chapter and you made some decent progress, at least feeling like you were getting to know the characters a bit as you settled into the story. But, day four, you read what you’d written the day before and wanted to claw your way out of your skin. What were you doing? Why did you think you could do this at all? Had you ever made anything worthwhile on your own? Why would you suddenly be able to do it now? 

The text came through when you were taking a break for lunch, desperately avoiding the gnawing feeling of failure after days of accomplishing fuck all when you really had no excuse not to. You sighed and opened your texts, fully expecting from Joel or Anna or even Stephanie. 

It wasn’t. 

Hey Doll

You dropped your fork in shock and it clattered to your plate as you blinked at your phone in total shock. He was texting you. Why was he texting you? He hadn’t texted you in months, not since you’d left Rhode Island. Why now? Did you want to know? Could you resist knowing? 

Hi Gale

You propped your phone up against your half empty can of Diet Dr. Pepper and stared at the screen, waiting for the next shoe to drop. 

It didn’t take long. 

How’ve you been doing? 

Your hand shook as you replied. 

Alright. I like the new school. You?

He responded almost instantly. 

Not bad. Was just thinking about you. Miss you. 

You froze, your heart in your throat. 

He missed you. How could he just say that? The collapse of your marriage had been one of the most painful things you’d ever gone through, happening in slow motion as he pulled further and further away and you desperately tried to dig your nails in to keep him close. You’d all but begged for him to miss you for years and now he was just texting it to you out of the blue. How could he just say that? How could you pretend like it wasn’t what you wanted to hear? 

You went to his Facebook page and checked his relationship status, one of the upsides to being with an older man meaning that his social media presence was pretty limited. He was still listed as in a relationship with Carla, a woman he’d met in much the same way he’d met you. The thought made your stomach churn, that you’d been so easily replaced by the younger, thinner, prettier version who had been dropped on his desk, practically gift wrapped. 

You went back to the texts. 

How’s Carla? 

There was a longer pause that time. 

She’s not you. 

“Jesus,” you said, setting the phone down and closing your eyes for a moment. You tried to think, forcing yourself to be practical. This wasn’t the time or the place to be having this conversation. You couldn’t have this conversation, not when you’d just been sitting her wondering if you could do the only thing you’d ever felt like you were supposed to do without his help. 

I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m in the middle of working on my book. Maybe another time. 

You stared at the phone, waiting for him to respond. He never did. 

“Yeah, sure seems like you missed me,” you muttered, finishing your salad and cleaning up from lunch, settling back in at your desk to write for the afternoon, trying not to think about the very real possibility that your writing career had ended when your marriage did. 

“I’m losing my mind over here,” you said, breaking down and calling Joel on day five. “There’s only so much I can say to a wall, you know.” 

“We’re comin’ your way tomorrow,” he said. “Be praying for some peace and quiet once Sarah and Tommy are there, trust me. Still like pecan praline ice cream, yeah?” 

“Blue Bell?” You asked. 

“Course it’s Blue Bell,” you could hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “What kind of animal you take me for?” 

“Oh, my apologies…” 

“Anything else you can think of?” He asked. “I can always stop on the way, too, but it’s easier while I’m here.” 

“I still think it’s silly to buy ice cream an hour away and then drive it out here,” you said. 

“That’s what coolers are for,” he replied. “Stop finding shit to worry about. Just give the writing one more shot, see how far you get. Who knows, you might surprise yourself.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you remembered your texts with Gale the day before. 

“Goldie,” Joel said, tone serious. “That all that’s on your mind?” 

“Stop trying to read my thoughts,” you said. 

“Tell me,” he said. “Or I’ll show up early and make you.” 

“That a threat?” 

“That’s a promise,” he said. “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Gale texted yesterday,” you said, fidgeting with the handle of your coffee mug, the coffee itself going cold an hour ago. 

“Gale?” Joel asked, tone sharp. “Fuckin’ Gale? The fuck did he want?” 

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I’ll show you the texts when you get here, maybe you can translate them for me since he’s not making any damn sense.” 

“That asshole better not be making any trouble,” Joel said. “I will find him and kick his ass, Goldie, just say the word…” 

“I know you will,” you laughed a little. “But don’t worry about it right now. And I should let you go…” 

“Yeah, go write your book,” he teased. “Change the world and shit.” 

There was a knock at your front door and you frowned, staring at it. There was a window to the side of it but all you could see was a shadow. 

“Hey, Joel?” You said. “Hang on one second, there’s someone at my door.” 

“What?” He sounded serious now. “Were you expecting anyone?” 

“No,” you said quietly, approaching it slowly and trying to see through the frosted glass. You couldn’t make out who it was. “So just stay on the line and make sure I’m not axe murdered…” 

“Need me to come out there now?” He asked. “If you ain’t safe…” 

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, unlocking the deadbolt. “Probably just a neighbor, but…” 

You opened the door and peered out through the crack, phone clutched against your head. 

You still almost dropped it. 

“Hey Doll.” 

***

“Hi Gale.” 

Joel’s heart dropped. 

“Gale?” He said, pressing his phone tight against his head and trying not to yell in the middle of the line at the HEB. “Fucking Gale? He’s there?” 

“I have to go,” you said quickly. “Talk later.” 

You hung up before he had a chance to say goodbye. He tried calling you back but you ignored it. 

Joel stood there, staring at his cart for a moment, his head swimming. 

Was he freaking out because it was you and he didn’t want you alone at some romantic looking cabin with your ex-husband? Was it because he knew that you weren’t in a place to handle this right now? Was it because he knew - knew - that your ex was a goddamn predator? 

He’d bitten his tongue about that fact since you’d been back, that the man you’d married had been more than twice your age and you’d only been a legal adult for all of a month when he’d met you. It didn’t matter that it was you, that Joel had gone searching for you and found you there with him all those years ago, he’d want to beat the shit out of a man like that regardless of who it was. A man like that couldn’t be trusted. 

He especially couldn’t be trusted with you. 

Joel checked out as fast as he could, calling Tommy as he drove. 

“Hey, need you to do me a favor,” he said quickly. 

“You always need me to do you a favor,” Tommy said. “One of these days I’m gonna cash in.” 

“Yeah, who got you the only job besides the army you’ve kept longer than a week?” Joel asked. 

Tommy sighed. 

“Fine. What’s up?” 

“Need you to take Sarah tonight.” 

“Joel, come on!” 

“M’serious,” Joel said. “Goldie’s ex just showed up at the fucking cabin…” 

“Oh, not that fucking asshole from the funeral,” Tommy cut him off. 

“That’s the one,” Joel said. 

“Fuck that guy,” Tommy said. “He needs to stay the fuck away from her.” 

“Yeah, somethin’ tells me he ain’t gonna make that choice on his own,” Joel said. “So I need you to pick up Sarah and take her for the night. And bring me my shit tomorrow. I’ll text you the address where Sarah’s at, she’s at her friend’s playing right now, needs to be picked up about five…” 

“Yeah, I got it,” Tommy said. “Go save the day.” 

Joel drove as fast as he dared, not familiar enough with where cops liked to hide to go too fast. He pulled up in front of the cabin you’d sent him the information for a week and a half earlier. He’d have admired it, in another circumstance. He’d always wanted a place like this, someplace quiet where there was enough space to live a little, maybe hunt. A place where Sarah could run and play and get to know nature a little. 

But in that moment, he was too pissed to take it in. 

He grabbed a bag out of the trunk - pretense more than anything else - and stalked up to the door before knocking on it, his fist coming down in heavy thuds on the wood. 

You pulled open the door, a surprised look on your face and your ex-husband at your back. 

He looked just about the same as Joel remembered him from before. Tall but not as tall as him, a refined air about him that made Joel want to deck him, a smug look on his face. His hair was gray and his face was wrinkled and Joel fucking hated him. 

“Joel,” you said, staring at him. “What are you…” 

Joel did the only thing he could think to do, fucking Brad standing so close to you with a hand between your shoulder blades like he fucking owned you. 

“Missed you too much, baby,” he said, watching your eyes go a little wide at the word. “Couldn’t wait until tomorrow.” 

He reached out and cupped the hinge of your jaw, his fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and he tugged you closer, his heart beating so fast he was sure that your fucking ex could hear it. 

But he didn’t care. 

All he cared about was the way your lips felt on his when he kissed you. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I mean we can all agree, fuck Brad/Gale.

But also... his presence does get results.

THANKS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME! Love you!

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 1/12)

yes i have eighty different rockstar!eddie's now, pls don't look at me, i rewatched almost famous and had a moment, k bye, enjoy!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you're a writer for rolling stone magazine and eddie hates the media so... he hates you

contains: enemies to lover trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, and eddie being an asshole <3

word count: 4.5k

| next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

You love your job more than anything.

You love that it allows you to travel, that it’s centered around music, and that you get to meet people and make friends and do extravagant things you would’ve never imagined you’d be doing. You love your job.

“I love my job.” It’s starting to taste like a lie when it reaches your tongue.

You mutter it to yourself again, looking around the bright hallway and searching for any fucking door with the words ‘CORRODED COFFIN’ written on it.

You glance at the watch on your wrist, teeth digging into the soft skin of your cheek as you keep walking down the corridor. 

You feel as if you’ve been walking down this hall for years, miles of white stone wall and shiny gray cement floors, equipment littered here and there with staff walking through doors and yelling commands.

You follow the echo of chatter and soft giggles, the sound getting closer and closer until a group of girls meets you. A red-headed girl lazily chews gum and stands against the wall, glaring at you from behind her blood-red shades. You take the chance to ask them your pressing question, “Do you know where I could find the dressing room for Corroded Coffin?” You ask.

The girls glare at you and giggle, eyeing you and, without a doubt judging your lack of fishnets and leather clothing. Brown leather boots, flared jeans, and a white long sleeve— you don’t belong here. “You a reporter or something?” 

You look at the redheaded girl, pursing your lips and taking a steady breath, reaching up to grasp the strap of your crossbody bag. “I’m a writer for Rolling Stone Magazine,” you explain, ignoring the snickering girls on the side. You clench the leather band of your bag in your palm, “I’m doing a piece on the band.”

The girl silently studies you; a ghost of a smile passes her lips, “Rolling Stone Magazine?”

You shift on your feet, eyebrows furrowing, “Yeah um… they’re big on music and—“ “I know what Rolling Stone Magazine is.”

You love your job.

You steadily breathe, clenching your bag once again. Your feet ache in these boots, and your jeans are teetering on the cusp of too tight after you ate a quick dinner— you want to go home. “The boys won’t speak with Rolling Stone.”

It falls silent between the two of you, and you glance at the other three girls, huddled together and passing a joint. “They don’t like watered-down shitty tabloids like yours. They won’t want to see you.” The redhead explains, silently reaching over to accept her turn with the joint.

You watch as she brings the burning paper to her lips, taking a long drag and smirking at you. She expects you to take her word and leave, but you’ve dealt with enough people like her to know she’s bullshitting you.

“Could you please point me toward their dressing room?” You ask, reconstructing your previous question because you now understand that, without a doubt, these women know where the dressing room is.

She laughs and points across the hall, some feet from where you’re all standing. You can see the first few letters of the band's name from your angle, and you internally rejoice. You thank her and walk over to the door, mentally reviewing your introduction a few times before laying a few knocks on the heavy black door.

There’s no response for a moment, and you try not to let the snickering sound of the girls tick you off. You lift your hand to knock again, but the door swings open before you can do it. A tall, muscular man glares down at you, dressed in black with a scowl. He must be security.

“Hi, I’m a writer for—“ “Groupies aren’t coming in yet; wait out in the back.” 

Your face twists in offense, glaring at the man as you, yet again, clench your fist in annoyance, “I’m not a fucking group—“ The door slams shut before you can finish your sentence. 

“Fuckin’ asshole.” You mutter to yourself. 

You love your job.

The girls snicker behind you, and you feel your face heat in embarrassment and annoyance. Why is nearly everybody in this industry just a bunch of assholes? You figure you’ll just have to wait for the band members to come out, leaning back to press your back against the wall and patiently wait.

From outside, you can hear the chaotic noise of yelling and loud banter from inside the room— the clatter of furniture breaking and thuds against the wall. You remember when behavior like this used to shock you, but artists seem to have reckless behavior nowadays.

The group of girls chatter amongst themselves, and you busy yourself with following the cracks in the floor. You stand there with aching feet and a mental ticking clock for what feels like hours, and you almost give up until the door flies open and three boys stumble out, reeking of alcohol and weed and musk. 

You watch as they all brush past you, ignoring you for the group of girls standing across the hallway, cheering their names and draping their arms across their shoulders. 

“And who might you be?”

You turn around at the gravelly voice, locking eyes with a glazed pool of brown. The last of the group, the fourth member— and, by what you can piece together given the notorious long dark brown locks dusting his shoulders, Eddie Munson. You clear your throat, stepping forward and telling him your name. You extend a hand for him to shake and ignore how his gaze rolls over every inch of your body.

“I’m a writer for Rolling Stone Magazine,” you explain, retracting your hand when he only glances at the kind gesture. He stands before you, an uninterested smirk dancing against his lips. He’s dressed in black jeans and black leather boots that look worn to hell despite his bottomless pit of a wallet. A black sheer button-down top, fully open to expose his sweat-glistened chest, shiny chains hanging from his neck and kissing his collarbones. His ringed fingers are wrapped around the neck of a half-empty bottle of whiskey, tiny sticky streams of spilled alcohol coating the bottle.

“I’m here to interview your band.” You add. 

He laughs, spit-slick lips forming a mocking smile as he speaks, “My band?” 

You blink, “Yes, you’re all a band, right?” You motion to the boys, still chatting with the girls across from where you stand, ignoring the sight of one of the members groping a girl as she giggles. “Heavy metal band, Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah, toots, we’re a band,” he lifts the bottle to his lips, speaking over the rim, “But this isn’t my band.” He tips the drink back and gulps down the bitter drink.

You watch as he takes it down without a single twitch of displeasure. You take a deep breath, shifting on your feet as you ignore his smart response, “Okay, well, it won’t be long,” you try to reason, reaching for your bag to dig out your notepad.

“Just a few questions; I won’t take much of your time—” Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand, “Listen, princess,” he presses his hand against the wall beside you, using the hand wrapped around the whiskey to gesture as he speaks. “While I’d love to sit and chitchat like a couple of teenage girls, we’ve got two issues here, sweetheart.”

“One,” he raises his index finger, “We don’t do interviews before shows.” He explains as if it’s common knowledge. He lifts another finger, “And two,” he steps closer, a sickening grin spreading across his lips when you step back. “We want nothing to do with your shitty dick-sucking career-crushing poor excuse of a magazine.”

You stare at him, a million different responses churning in your head, and you so badly want to read him to filth, but you really fucking love your job.

“Mr. Munson, I promise you—” “Where are you from?”

What is it with these assholes and cutting you off mid-sentence? 

You swallow your pride and answer, “Michigan.” Eddie hums, nodding his head, clicking his teeth as if tasting the state on his tongue. “I’ll tell you this, Michigan,” he bumps the bottle against your shoulder, and you grimace at the drop of liquor that seeps into your shirt. “We’re not doing your shitty piece of a story, but we’ll graciously give you a nice view of the show from the side stage.” He grins, patting your shoulder once and winking.

A staff member passes by you, alerting the band that they have less than a minute to be on stage. You open your mouth to object to his offer, but the boy is downing the rest of the bottle and shoving the bottle into your chest, “Enjoy the show, Michigan.” 

You watch in disbelief as he walks off with his band members, the other members not even glancing your way as they holler and cheer down the corridor of the venue. For the 80th time tonight, you clutch the band of your bag and curse to yourself.

Fuckin’ dipshit rockstars.

Against your better judgment, you, again, swallow your pride and watch the show from the side of the stage. You decline any drinks offers, wanting to stay as sober as possible for the interview after the show (if you can weasel one out of them). 

Corroded Coffin knows how to put on a show. Each band member works the crowd in ways you have rarely witnessed in this industry— it’s not difficult to see their appeal to the younger generation of music listeners.

None of the members outshine the other; they are all equally in the spotlight, playing their part to create a well-oiled machine of an act. Granted, most of the show is concerningly chaotic; Gareth kicked his foot into his drum set near the end, Jeff smashed the fret of his guitar over the side of an amp, Eddie made out with a fan and Gareth, and the other member you can’t seem to name for the life of you sprayed the front row with multiple bottles of liquor.

It’s chaotic, an endless list of violations without a doubt, but the fans eat it out of the palm of their hands.

You don’t even bother trying to get their attention when they run off the stage, quietly watching from afar as they’re cheered on by VIP fans, managers, and staff. Security rushes them to the green room, where a line of fans waits with various pieces of merchandise to be signed.

You follow, silently taking in the busy scene, saying nothing when you catch a few members stealthily swiping tiny bags of party favors from fans. It’s a movie of never-ending noise and movement, and you’re wondering how they put up with this every night.

You glance at your watch and grunt in annoyance, half past midnight, well past the time you’d hoped to be back in your hotel room.

You stand aside and watch the room as the squealing fans go to each boy, getting autographs and Polaroids to commemorate the moment. Gareth is a flirt, shakes every girl's hand and only lingers for the ones he fancies, gazes into their eyes like they’re the only girl in the room, and smirks when they giggle and lean into his touch. Tells them they’re pretty, compliments their dresses and tops, and gazes at their chest for too long until staff breaks the moment and tells the girls to ‘keep the line moving, ladies’. 

Jeff is almost the same, except he’s less performative with it. He’s got a hint of a gentleman in him, thanks each fan for coming, and asks how they liked the show with a sneaky glint in his eyes and a sly smirk. Winks at one of the girls and leans in to whisper something in her ear, something you can’t read from his lips, but later on, you will see them step onto the tour bus together, snickering like sneaky teenagers.

The bass player, the one whose name always slips your mind, has gone off somewhere with a groupie; you watched them slip away from the madness the second he stepped off stage. 

And Eddie— Eddie can’t stop glaring at you. Can’t stop looking at you and making you squirm because he wants you gone. He’s got an arm draped around a girl's shoulder, neck craned down to hear what she whispers, and through the chaos of the room and the pretty girl practically pawing at his chest and giggling in his ear, Eddie still manages to find the time to look at you. Curly bangs wet with sweat sticking to his forehead, cheeks rosy and flushed with adrenaline, wide eyes diminished beneath smudged black eyeliner. He looks like an animal, damp and matted, searing gaze dripping with malice. 

You almost take the bait and cower.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, breaking your silent staring contest with Eddie as a man steps into your view. He is taller than you, older with lines of age sinking into his skin, glaring down at you over the end of his cigarette as he speaks, “Rolling Stone Magazine?”

You wonder how he was able to pick you out, but your itchy jeans and suffocating boots quickly remind you that you don’t exactly fit into the crowd. You nod, sticking a hand out and telling him your name. “You must be Richie, the manager?” You assume, kindly smiling when he takes your hand with a friendly grip in greeting.

“I’m here to interview your boys. We called this morning,” you remind him. He nods, puffs out a cloud of smoke from the side of his mouth as he speaks, “Yeah, uh… The thing with that is,” he tilts his head to scratch at the stubble on his chin, “I’m not so sure the boys’ll be up for that.” 

You breathily laugh, glancing at the boys behind him, ignoring when Eddie glances your way, “Yeah, I gathered that already.”

The man hums, reaching up to pluck the burning paper from his lip, blowing the smoke away from your face before speaking, “Yeah, Eddie’s not too keen on big media. Bad run-in from the past.” He explains. You nod understandingly, “The Face?”

The man nods, taking another hit, “Tore ‘em to shreds.” You nod, crossing your arms over your chest with a breath, “I remember.” He offers you a hit, and you shake your head, kindly waving him off.

“Shitty, you came all this way, though. Where you from?”

You don’t look at him as you respond, too focused on the man across the room, his attention locked in on the fans now that he sees you’re being taken care of— like an unwanted intruder being exterminated. But you’re not an intruder. You’re a journalist, a writer, a listener— and you’re damn good at it. 

Before you can thoroughly think about the repercussions, your mouth is running, gaze still locked on Eddie, “I can get them on the cover.”

Richie pauses his rambling at that, pauses the lift of his cigarette to his lips, and looks at you, waiting for you to say it was a joke or something— but it’s not. Your gaze flitters to him, your expression unwavering as you wait for him to respond. “The cover?”

You nod once, watching as he takes one long drag of his cigarette. “We can do one big interview with them all,” you begin, “I’ll tag along for a few shows to gather more on the experience, get a photoshoot booked and have them on the cover for the July issue.” You’re pulling strings, tugging at what sounds enticing and will get you where you need to be. You’re good at your job, you’ve done this before, and you know how to bend things to your will because the rockstars— the rockstars are always easy to break.

Richie glances over his shoulder and grunts, rubbing a hand over his face before turning back to you, “Okay, um,” he sighs and curses under his breath, “Let me see if I can talk them into it, yeah?” He sticks the cigarette between his lips and starts searching his pockets. “We’ve got a residency tour in New York next,” he announces, finally fishing out his wallet and sifting through cards until he finds what he needs. He offers the card to you, “Think you can meet us there?”

You take the card and glance over it before glancing at the boy once again. You nod, and he smiles, “Give me a call when you land; I’ll let you know if it’s a go.”

He leaves without another word, and you stay standing for a bit, rubbing the card between your fingers as you watch the boys meet the last of their fans tonight, Eddie no longer looks your way, and you hope he does for just a split second so he can know— so he can realize that he lost.

You give up when he seems too preoccupied with the girls, stuffing the card in your purse and making your way toward the exit. You’ll have to settle for rubbing it in when you see them in New York.

You spent the better part of your week convincing Anna, your manager, to give you the benefit of the doubt and allow you to pull through with a cover story. Anna wasn’t so excited when you told her you offered them a cover, but Anna is never excited by your ideas; she’s always worried until the final product comes out like a fine piece of gold. Treasure. You create treasure, and Anna knows this, so she finally relents and lets you go through with it— “You better get me the biggest story ever made. Bigger than Madonna.”

You can do bigger than Madonna— and seeing as your subject is four young men at the peak of worldwide fame, ‘bigger than Madonna’ will be a piece of cake.

You grab the hotel phone the second you get in, dialing the number on the creased business card you’d fished out from your bag. Your knee bounces in anticipation, teeth digging into your lip as you listen to each agonizing ring, almost thinking Richie gave you a fake card before finally, the phone picks up, “Hello?” It’s groggy, like he’d just woke up.

“Hi, it’s Rolling Stone Magazine,”

He groans on the other end, and you can hear the rustling of sheets, and you assume he’s sitting up in bed, “Rolling Stone Magazine… Oh— oh, uh… are you here?” He asks. You nod before answering with a short yes. 

“Are we on for today?” You ask. He’s silent for a few moments, nothing but sleepy, distant grunts filtering through the speaker. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we’re on just uh,” you pick at the seam of your jeans as you wait for him to finish his thought, “Come to the garden at around three; they’ve got rehearsals, and you can try to squeeze in after.”

You thank him and end the call, placing the phone back on the stand and sighing as you glance around the room. This will be your home for the next month; Anna advised you to stay for the entire residency tour despite your reassurance that you can complete the story in a week— “A big story, birdie. A massive one. A good one. That doesn’t happen in a week.”

So, one month. Twelve shows and thirty days. One month.

Eddie doesn’t like rehearsals. 

He thinks they’re stupid and useless and take up too much time of the day when he could spend it doing something else. Could be writing, could be out having fun with the boys and getting high as a kite, could be fucking that redheaded groupie, Lany. He could be doing so many things, but instead, he’s up on stage in an empty arena listening for feedback in the mic and testing the amps for the guitars. 

“Let’s do that last track one more time; I think I’m picking up a bit of feedback on you, Gareth.”

Eddie sits down on the edge of the drum riser, sticking a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. He tilts his head back and blows up toward the beaming lights, squinting at the bright rays and imagining them enveloping him. He closes his eyes and imagines it’s the sun, thinking about Hawkins and the last summers he spent with the gang. Thinks about Dustin and Lucas and Max and Mike. Steve, Nance, and Robin. Thinks about how he hasn’t called or visited in a while, even though he got their card on his birthday.

He feels shitty for not calling home; he itches to make the call now and let them know that he misses them and wishes they could fly out more often to watch the band play. They’re all busy, though; the kids are about to start college— dusted the shit out of high school, which Eddie obviously flew in to watch them walk the stage— and the older half of them are all getting jobs, looking for their next big step in life, and Eddie misses them.

His reminiscent thoughts are cut through with the sharp and loud slamming of the arena door, grasping his attention in seconds. He blinks a few times to get the light out of his eyes, squinting at where the noise came from— and Eddie’s mind is fresh off a joint, so he’s not a hundred percent sure if he’s just envisioning that journalist from the other day or she’s actually here.

He stands up from the drum riser, stepping further into the stage as he watches you walk down the rows of seats; barely acknowledges the stage manager when he asks him to play the riff from track four until Jeff walks into his line of sight, “Come on, man, I wanna get this over with.”

Eddie situates his fingers over the frets of his guitar, watching as you find a seat in the third row and settle in, settling your bag in your lap and holding it to you as you silently watch the crew work the stage. He plays the riff a few times, until they can fix that god-awful ringing noise behind the higher notes, and when they finally wrap up rehearsals, Eddie makes a beeline to the front row where Richie is standing, quietly chatting with a staff member about where he wants the road cases to go. Eddie doesn’t care much for their conversation, steps in, and promptly interrupts, “Why the fuck is that journalist here?”

Richard turns to him and raises his eyebrows, “Sir?”

The staff member leaves as Eddie leans in and points over Richard's shoulder to where you sit, still quietly watching the stage, bright lights illuminating your face like you’re some god-sent fucking angel— and you’re not. Eddie knows you’re not. He sees straight through your friendly act. “The journalist, Richie. Why is she here?” He slowly repeats.

Richie glances at you and looks back at Eddie, “She’s doing a story on the band—” “No, she’s fucking not.”

Richie stares at Eddie, blinks for a silent moment before speaking, “Son,” —and sometimes Richie reminds Eddie of Wayne, and it scares him, “She’s gonna put you on the cover of Rolling Stone Magazine.” Richie points your way. Eddie falters momentarily, mindlessly blinking and shaking his head, “Cover?”

Richie laughs and pats Eddie on the shoulder, “Yeah. The fucking cover,” he says, “so, whether you like it or not, you’re doing the interview. This is what the band needs.”

Eddie shakes his head, curly strands brushing the muscles of his shoulders, “We don’t need a goddamn cover, Richie. We’re not doing a fucking story—” “Yes, you are.” Richie doesn’t mean to make his voice boom through the arena, but it attracts attention either way, and he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose before clapping a hand onto the back of Eddie’s shoulder, turning both away from the stage.

“You’re putting out an album in a few months. You want it to sell, don’t you?”

Eddie clenches his jaw, teeth grinding against each other as he glances over his shoulder, annoyed when he catches you watching— almost smirks when you quickly look away as if you’d been caught red-handed. Despite Eddie’s strong will, he nods because fucking obviously he wants the album to sell— but at what cost?

Richie nods and squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, “Good. Then you’ll do the interview. She’ll be with us for all of New York, so play nice. We need a good piece.” and leaves Eddie with a pat on his shoulder. 

Eddie stands there for a moment, gathering himself and trying to cope with the fact that some fucking narc will be on their back for the next month. He doesn’t see or hear you walk up to him until you say his name. The barricade separates you, your fingers gripping the black railing as you stand before him. Eddie’s hands are on his hips, not moving an inch as he looks at you.

“I know you don’t want me here, but I… I’m just doing my job, and if you can cooperate, this will be easier for the both of us.”

And Eddie— god, Eddie can’t fucking believe the audacity.

“Did you fuck Richie?”

He watches you pull back, blinking at him as you stare silently. Eddie tilts his head, eyebrows raising to push the answer from you, “No, I didn’t—” You shake your head and blink hard in confusion, “Why would I—” “Because you want a good story.” Eddie snaps, “Right?”

Because that’s all anybody ever wants from him. A good story. A tale to tell their friends about. Tell them the secrets they pulled from Eddie Munson, tell them about the famous rockstar that fucked them backstage, tell them they know what makes him crack. A good story.

You gape at him, lost and shocked by the sudden confrontation. 

You straighten up and tilt your head, eyes growing harsh with anger as you respond, “No. I didn’t fuck Richie. I don’t fuck to get where I want, I pull strings, and I make it work,” you snap, “I treat people with the respect they deserve, and I get what I want. You could learn a few things from that.”

And with that, you’re gone. Leaving Eddie behind with a twisted face of annoyance. He watches you walk over to where Richie is and greet him, but he doesn’t stick around long enough to watch or tune in to the conversation, storming through the arena and grabbing his coat to get in the car and tell the driver to take him to his hotel.

One month. Twelve shows and thirty days. One month.

Eddie can play along, he thinks. How hard can it be?

————

part two

[gloomunson]

Purely Transactional

First time really publishing anything I've written for Eddie. No stranger to smut. just to him. Go easy on me.

Eddie Munson smut. The one where you fake date. Picture the 90s. Slow build.

Word Count: 12,872

Picture this; you’re being forced to attend your sisters engagement party, it’s a weekend event a couple towns over. You’ve got a room booked for two, yourself and your boyfriend. Your family can’t wait to meet the man who’s stolen your heart at last. It’s actually the second biggest event in your family history for years. The issue: you don’t have a boyfriend. You haven’t had one since you were 16. You only said you did have a boyfriend because you thought you would have by now. You never saw life going this way at all. Now you either have to fess up to being a single mother of two beautiful little dogs or find a last minute lover to feel less alone. Yay.

You asked everyone you knew. The neighbour, the neighbour’s neighbour. His cousin from out of town, his cousin from out of town’s neighbour. Every single one of your friends and only one of them gave you something or more, someone to work with. “Why don’t you ask Eddie?” You’re slouching on his sofa, sinking into the leather as he strums away at his guitar a joint hanging dangerously from his mouth. “I don’t know him.” You say it like it’s obvious, kicking your feet up. “Which is exactly why you should.” You catch his drift, but you don’t want to. It wasn’t as ideal as he thought it was. “I’m gonna get asked questions.” You deadpan. “So, make some notecards.” You tug the joint from his mouth, bringing it to your own. “Yes you may have that.” You flick him. “Rude.” You take a drag before slotting it back gently between his lips, returning to your seat.

“He won’t do it.” Gareth doesn’t respond. “I know he won’t, he doesn’t like me.” He huffs. ‘You hadn’t given him a chance to’ is what he says in his mind. “Has he told you that?” He quit playing, giving you more of his attention. He really did want to help. “Not exactly, no.” He leaned over his guitar, placing the joint down in his hand painted ash tray on the coffee table. The one you made for him for Christmas the year before. The one that he loved and guarded with his life. “Ask him.” You shake your head. “Ask him.” He says again, the guitar now being rested carefully against the table alerting you that he meant business. “No. Way.” You continue. He moves over to you; you slot your legs across his lap, and he leans back into his seat comfortably under the weight of them. “I’m gonna ask him.” You think he’s joking. You hoped he was joking. He wasn’t joking.

-

“Edward, we don’t know each other that well so I thought you’d be perfect plus you’re kinda the only other single one left, so it had to be you.” There were no lies told. You were the only ones; it might have been the only thing you actually had in common in your little inner circle of friends. You weren’t close but you also weren’t complete strangers. You were a little more than acquaintances, but not really friends. He was your only shot at this, that much you did know. “I resent that.” You roll your eyes, ‘you would,’ you think. You’re running out of options, he was your last chance, you had a week to prepare, this had to be it. You considered throwing in the towel moments before he arrived at your place. Half an hour late. It should have been enough of a sign not to go through with it but then he did arrive. Meaning that somewhere deep down inside him, he was interested. You could work with interested.

“I’ll pay you.” You can’t imagine anything worse; you were desperate sure, not desperate enough to actually pay him but desperate all the same. He seemed reasonable enough though. He had more money now than he knew what to do with and he was close with Gareth. Gareth was good people; he’d turn your offer down; you were sure of it. “How much?” He perks up, stroking his chin now his attention was caught. “You weren’t actually supposed to want payment.” You panicked, feet shuffling, hands tapping your thighs relentlessly. He was smirking. “Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?” He steps in close, a couple feet between you, not enough. “Want me to act like an escort? You’re gonna have to pay me like one.” If you hadn’t ever had a conversation with him, you might have found that attractive. He was tall, dark, and handsome. His jawline so picturesque you may have thought about kissing it once or twice. You also liked his eyes, even if he was cold and callous beneath them, only out for himself. But he wasn’t that attractive, and he didn’t intimidate you like he thought he did. Much.

“Like you don’t have more money than my entire family combined.” You dig. His rock star era made a hell of a name for himself. This was never going to happen. You don’t know why he even entertained it this far. There wasn’t a single helpful bone in his body, no matter how much you wished there were. “How bad do you need a boyfriend sweetheart?” He shortens the space between you even more. Your chest feels tight, the confidence dripping from his tongue was actually working on you, you were out of your depth. The way he looked at you too. Eyes flicking down to your lips and back, head tilting slightly, almost robotically, like he was sizing you up. Seeing if he could make it work. Make you work for him. You felt a heat on the back of your neck. You felt gross.

“100 bucks if they believe it, 50 if they don’t.” You couldn’t believe you were even saying it. You’d have to make him forget you agreed to any of that. “For how long?” He quipped back. “You’re so greedy. I’m gonna have to make a note of that in our very public lovers spat.” You lace it with venom as well as humour, standing your ground. The corner of his lips begins to curl. He fights it. “How long?” He repeats again, just as steady in tone. “A weekend.” You breathe. “Like Saturday and Sunday.” He asks. “Like Friday to Monday,” you respond just as deadpan. “200.” He takes a dangerous step closer. You don’t flinch. “150 and no black eye.” His brows furrow, forehead creasing in confusion. He kind of reminded you of a neanderthal. Dumb little boy.

“Why would I have a black eye?” You raise your fist. “OKAY PUT YOUR FIST DOWN. Jesus woman, I’ll do it.” He admits defeat. “Perfect. I made some note cards, things about me you may get asked about, read them, memorise them, guard them with your life.” You tug the notes from your back pocket, pushing them into his chest abruptly. He looks down at them quizzically. “What if they ask about me?” You shrug your shoulders. “I’m sure you’re not that complex.” He doesn’t attempt to hide how insulted he is by that.

“When is it?” You point to the cards. “All the information you need is in the notes.” He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again, “how are we-“ you go to open your front door, you’d had the entire conversation in the hallway, not wanting him to go any further into your home than that. “In the notes Edward.” He takes a look down at the cards in his hands, he hated reading other people’s handwriting, made him feel dumb when he couldn’t understand it as well as he’d liked. You joined your letters all curly too which didn’t help. He actually half expected you to dot the I’s with hearts, you seemed like that kind of girl. He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed that you hadn’t.

You’re ushering him out the door, waving your hand to make him move faster. He pauses in your doorframe. You were so close. You could just kick him; he’d be off your property in no time. You wouldn’t have to think about him for another week then. You could pack your bags in peace. “You spelt my name wrong.” He points to the card; you’d done it on purpose. “No, I think your parents did.” He frowns. Before he can respond again you give him that much needed shove out the door. “BYE Eddie!” You slam it behind him, leaning your back against it as if that would prevent him from getting back inside and on top of your nerves again. He found the whole ordeal just as unpleasant as you had but he still finds himself on the other side of that door with a smile on his face. He read every single card you wrote for him. You were way more annoying than he thought. 

-

“What part are you guys having trouble understanding?” You ask the table, leaning over, reaching for your cocktail to distract your mouth before you can step your foot in it. You were being tested way harder than you ever anticipated you would. You really never imagined they’d care let alone put you on trial for the crime of getting a boyfriend without their prior knowledge or approval. It’s nice to know how friendly and welcoming they really are when push comes to shove. You’d have to keep that in mind for the real thing, whenever that might be.

You’d laugh the nerves away, but you were afraid you might never stop laughing. You’d just manically laugh until you sank under the table, down into the ground, right to centre of the earth, burning up at the core before passing away painfully. You wished you could laugh. Instead, you just took the longest sip, looking to your left and right as subtly as you could muster under the immense pressure placed upon your shoulders by your sister and her fiancé. Deep breaths, it’ll all be over soon. 

“I don’t buy it.” She states matter of factly. “You go from a single dog mom to suddenly in love with the perfect guy.” You open your mouth to speak but you daren't even try, she’s not finished yet. “It’s a little conveniently timed don’t you think?” She waves her hands to illustrate her point in that annoying fashion that only she could. Waving her fresh manicure right in your face, whether accidental or on purpose, still ridiculously annoying and yet another reminder that she had her life together and you didn’t. She turned to her fiancé before glancing towards the rest of the table for back up, all nodding along with her instantly as if she were a puppet master stringing them along. Cowards. 

Your gaze remains steady and ice cold, colder than the slushy cocktail in your hands. The only thing that made the weekend worth it was the free bar and the adorable outdoor beer garden. You release the straw after a long sip with an “Ahh.” You try not to enjoy the twitch of your sister’s right eye at the sound. She’d always loathed when people did that. Anyone who made a noise of satisfaction after a drink no matter how delicious or refreshing it may be, was a colossal pain in her ass. You think she just despises other people’s enjoyment. She thinks it’s an unnecessary sound that people tend to use to exaggerate how nice something is as a performance for other people rather than for themselves. She also thinks it’s incredibly unladylike, which gives you a bigger kick to try it out every single time.

“Why would I lie?” You place your drink down harder than you intend to, wincing as the glass clangs on the table so hard you thought it may shatter. “You know I love you sis, but I don’t think I’d go to the length of faking a relationship just because you’re getting engaged.” Which would be such a wonderful sentence to throw out into the universe if that weren’t exactly what you were doing. “I just met the right guy.” You try not to grimace at the cheesiness of it all, that, and the fact you still hadn’t decided if you’d even liked him more than just a piece of eye candy. Because there was no denying that he was attractive, from the start he’d had that going at least. You’d only been admitting it because of the influence of alcohol too. It was just the rest of the package that gave you a headache.

“But he’s-“ You scowl before she continues that sentence, you almost will her to continue. “He’s what?” You push. If anyone were going to come for Eddie they had better make it good because that was an area you excelled in and would absolutely love to be a part of even if you did have to defend him right now. You could always use any good material at a later date when left to your own devices though, a pen and paper would be wonderful.

“He’s not your type.” You don’t believe that’s what she planned to say, it came out far too polite to be something she’d actually thought of. “What is my type then?” You probably shouldn’t have asked her this, but your curiosity trumps all reason. She flails her hand around in her lap, trying to think of the correct way to phrase it. You had no doubt your past relationships were displaying in her mind, enough horrendous options for her to choose from right out of a hat. 

“Nerds,” she begins to list on her fingers, which is quite alarming because you really didn’t think you had that much of a track record. “Gamer boys,” which basically comes under ‘nerds.’ “Skinny guys,” that was absolutely not exclusive, “Gamer boy nerds.” She throws 3 fingers up. That’s if she was classing ‘boy’ as a type which you assume she was. You had to hand it to her, she wasn’t entirely wrong about your past dating pool, but Eddie wasn’t exactly far off that. Allegedly, back in his school days, he was the biggest nerd of them all, right before his band took off, he was participating in DnD tournaments and if that wasn’t the epitome of gamer boy nerd then what was? He just happened upon a glow up in his mid-twenties, something you still desperately waited for yourself. “Eddie just, doesn’t seem much of a nerd.” You’re certain that’s not what she intended to say, and you thought she might stop herself there, but she doesn’t, why would she? “He’s, well I hate to say it,” you bet she doesn’t though, “he’s out of your league.” Ahh, there it is. That’s more like it. She even says it with an apologetic expression to make you consider it for a millisecond. If only he were here. Oh, how he’d love this.

Eddie was the lucky one in this scenario, whether it was fake or not, you were a catch. One that no one had ever caught and kept hold of but a catch, nonetheless. Your mom would agree, probably not the best argument but it’s there and it counted. You reached for your drink once again and prayed he returned soon; you were drowning out here and you weren’t even out of the shallows. “Then lucky me.” You sip as aggressively as one can with a shitty paper straw wedged between their teeth. You were so glad the sea turtles were safer at the hands of recycled paper straws, but you so missed being able to drink a cocktail without the added ingredient of paper mache sinking at the bottom of each glass.

“Why are we in luck?” His voice swings in joining the conversation as he walks back over to your table, the chain on his jeans jingling as it swayed while he walked. You’d asked him to remove it, he swore he would, he didn’t. His hearing was impeccable, you wonder what else had slipped by him on his way over. You’d honestly never felt so relieved to hear his voice either, even if his steps closer bought the smell of cheap cigarettes and your early twenties. You’d have loved him back then. Back in college, your first taste of freedom, the option to date whoever you liked, to experiment a little. You’d have eaten up that bad boy, leather jacket, fingers coated in metal, cigarette smoking musician act he had going for him. Quiet and brooding too, oh yeah, your knickers would have never left the floor. Good thing you grew up since then. 

He grabbed his chair, pushing it right next to yours, as close as he could get without sitting directly on top of you and for a second you ponder about why he bothered with his chair at all. His eyes burned into the side of your face, and you plastered a smile wide enough to match his as you leant into him. “What took you so long?” You whispered while maintaining that sickeningly sweet smile that hurt your face to pull. “You miss me that much?” He licked across his bottom lip, and you mentally scold yourself for looking at it. “I’m getting eaten alive out here.” He grinned wider. “Must be because you’re so damn delicious.” Your stomach fluttered. What the fuck? 

He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. You felt yourself relax into him, like his lips had sucked all of the tension from your body. You may not like him very much but you sure were glad he was here right now. Even without the facade, it was hard being in environments where you had to face your entire family alone. It’s not that you weren’t close with them, or didn’t love them, it was just difficult standing your own ground sometimes. You needed that extra shield for the invasive questions and high expectations, the anchor to keep you firmly in place, sure of yourself. It was a tough act to balance. 

He couldn’t deny that he’d gained some respect for you for how well you’d handled things. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d manage a family dynamic like this alone, even if he were part of it. He was kind of developing a soft spot for you, probably more than you were anyway. Okay, definitely more than you were. He wasn’t sure when it started. He’d had the message exchanges throughout the last week. He had the detailed notes about your life from start to finish to divulge. The 3 hour car journey where you refused to play music, instead forcing him to answer questions about you in preparation for the event. It was somewhere amongst there. Maybe even when you’d shared a room the past two nights without killing each other. In seeing a vulnerable side of you that made you appear a little more human. He’d also seen a larger portion of you without clothing, that certainly helped.

Yes. Perhaps somewhere around there he’d liked you. All he knew now was that in watching your interactions with your family, it made him want to stick to you like glue and support you the best he could for however long you would let him. You had it covered, and you’d tell him that too, afraid of showing any weaknesses, but that’s exactly why he felt like he should support you, he didn’t want you to feel so alone, you didn’t have to be so alone. He’d known all too well what that was like.

He didn’t even have to force himself to kiss your cheek that time, he’d just wanted to rid your face of the frown that threatened to grace it, even if he found it adorable. His issue now was that he had trouble moving away. His lips lingering, breath tickling your cheek, until you coughed under your breath for him to shift away. For a moment he’d wished it weren’t all play pretend. That he could stay there and have it not feel so strange. He couldn’t pin point when his eyes started to soften at the sight of you. All he knew was that they had. It was getting increasingly easier to act enamoured by you, because, well, he might have been.

“So, what did I miss?” He tilts his head towards the rest of the table, it felt like such a difficult task to withdraw his attention from you. You yourself took the opportunity to catch a much needed breath. You also needed to pat your stomach to hold off the swarm of butterflies scrambling around in there. There was this dizzying, uneasiness in the pit of your tummy, like you were fighting the emotions within yourself. Those damn love bugs were wasting their time going crazy for this situation. It wasn’t real, not worth the energy. Surely you didn’t need to be convinced of that, it was clear as day. You didn’t need this unnecessary nausea. “We were just talking about what a wonderful couple you are.” Your brother in law speaks, directing his attention towards the man at your side. You really thought you’d liked that man, he betrayed you. You kept a special scowl just for him. He felt hot under the collar when he felt the intensity of it. Good, you thought. Traitor. 

Eddie bravely dipped his hand down onto your thigh where he’d noticed your hand was already resting, slipping his fingers between yours, resting atop your knuckles effortlessly for all to see. You’d felt your breath hitching in your throat. The simplicity of the action shouldn’t have caused such a stir, but it was just so easy for him. He was so touchy feely like it was the most natural thing in the world. He loved to touch, and you never expected it from him. It was one of the main reasons that made it so hard to remain sure that this was all an act. Was he like this with everyone? You’d half hoped he wasn’t, even if your other half screamed at you for that naivety. It wasn’t exactly your love language, but you’d wished it were, you wanted to touch him. Too many drinks maybe.

“Why do I feel like that’s sarcasm?” He threw back with nothing but charm, sweet like honey dripping from his tongue. If he weren’t in a band you could certainly picture him as an actor with some of the crap he pulled. Sometimes he even had you believing this whole thing, lines blurring like no other. Especially when nuzzled his nose into your neck eliciting a squeal from your lips. All before deciding to stay there, sitting with his chin resting on your shoulder happily. Like the most casual position in the world.

Your heart pounded against your chest. His arm slunk around your waist. His mouth opened for you, signalling you to bring his cocktail and straw between his lips to take a sip. A ridiculously over the top public display of affection you swore you’d never partake in. Yet for some reason your hands were ignoring every judgment your mind was making, allowing you to feed him his drink like some kind of mother to a parched child. It was interesting to you how fast you’d been able to communicate with him like that without it ever needing to be said or asked for. “You owe me.” You whisper. “Not how this transaction really works.” He says between sips rather impressively. It might even be considered cute if it wasn’t such a threat. Your cheeks burned.

“It just seems so sudden.” Your sister just can’t bite back her tongue for more than two seconds huh. You’re literally sat there with giant, red, beaming heart eyes for each other. So, close your personal space would never be described as such for as long as you shall live, ever again. Literally feeding each other. Squeezing each other’s hands. Hating every second you’re apart. Feeling like you may break without the other. Whispering sweet nothings (more like threats but no one else had spotted that) into each other’s ears. You’re both so over the top, overwhelmingly infatuated (although falsely) with each other you may as well claim this engagement party as your own and YET, no one believed you for a second. Hell, even you thought you might be falling. Thank you vodka.

“When you know, you know.” You say, lifting your hand to pat his cheek after putting his drink back on the table. He squeezes your other hand instinctively. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it in the first place, it felt so nice and soft, like it belonged in his. It could belong there. “What will it take to convince you?” He offers. You squeeze his hand even harder, this time hoping to pump the breaks on this one. As much as you appreciated him sticking up for the relationship. You weren’t up for a quick fire round of questions that you weren’t prepared in the slightest. Especially since he refused to learn the answers to any potential enquiries a day prior. Deeming the impromptu quiz session in the car ‘enough learning for a lifetime.’

“Ed,” is all you warn while you beg him to shut up with your mind instead. “No, no sweetie, we can answer all the questions they have.” He grinned at you so menacingly; you wanted to wipe that smirk right off his adorably smug little face. Woah. When did he become adorable? Scratch that. Shush. You’re so pissed you don’t even fawn over the pet name, much. You may as well pack your bags now and return home though, you were done for, the hoax was over. The end.

“What’s her favourite band?” Okay, we’re actually doing this. “Or singer, if that’s easier.” Ryan, your least favourite brother in law and your only brother in law, fires out. He only knew the answer himself because he tried to impress you one Christmas by buying you a limited edition vinyl. Of all the people at this table, you thought at least he wouldn’t be sceptical of you. Unbelievable.

“There isn’t just one, its multiple, depends what mood she’s in.” You’re intrigued already on where this is going. Your sister jeered at the response, already less than impressed. Eddie turns his head, lifting his hand to silence her before she can say anything. You almost pat him on the back for it. “But, if I had to choose.” Which he did. He really did. “Queen, Black Sabbath, and I’m going to add Corroded Coffin in there because she’s our number one groupie, aint that right babe?” You allow yourself to roll your eyes at the last part, even if you were dating you doubt you’d let him describe you as a groupie, dick.

“That’s easy, they’re pretty generic choices.” You had to give them that one, it wasn’t the most cut throat list of indie artists you could only associate with your taste and yours only. You’d been a bit of a basic music lover your whole life and there was no shame in that. You liked what you liked and that was okay. You were still impressed he knew any of your list though. Maybe he actually had read your notes, lying shit. Definitely not adorable. “Favourite food?” Okay, still going. You lean back, may as well get comfortable since you’re going to be here for a while. 

He snorted before answering that one and you wondered what was so insanely funny that could make him move his hand away from your thigh to explain it properly. You missed his touch the second you were without it. Gag. “Bread.” He giggled just saying it, the kind of giggle where the creases beside his eyes really stood out and his cheeks bunched up all precious and pudgy underneath them. You can’t help but smile.

“But not just plain bread right,” he looked to you before continuing as if to say ‘hey, watch this, look at me.’ He thinks he has you down. You indulge him. “So, bread in its many forms,” he lifted his fingers to start listing, “sandwiches, toast, brioche, fried bread, french toast, pizza dough, the list goes on right but at the height of it all,” he really gestured above his head to signify the detailed tier system of bread options. He added a small and useless breather to gain anticipation, it wasn’t working. “Garlic bread.” 

You snorted a laugh yourself this time. Not because he was wrong either, because he was 100% correct in fact. You were mortified that, that was your own answer. He locked eyes with you in a way that he hadn’t done before, with genuine affection, maybe even a glimmer of hope that he’d done you justice. He was captivated by you, your cheeks bursting with redness, your smile tight, starting to hurt you in fighting it. You looked so pretty right now. The glow of the lamps out in this beer garden just added to the radiance he already thought you had. He couldn’t believe a girl as pretty as you considered bread your favourite food.

He also found the noise you made to be one of the cutest things he’d ever heard, and he wished he could make you do it again someday. He really didn’t consider himself that funny though. He might have to get some drinks down you for another laugh like that. “I thought your favourite were sour patch kids?” Your sister argued, using her nails again to assist her point. Eddie quickly chimed in before you could go to correct her.

“Actually, that was her hyper fixation for a little while, ate every flavour except lemon. Which are my favourite, so it works out pretty well.” Your jaw may as well have hit the floor. He’d only known that from the car ride up here. You were about to throw the packet out before he stopped you, complaining you were wasting money and food since you left all the yellow ones. You were shocked he remembered. If you were impressed by him right now, surely everyone else had to be too, right? Wrong.

“Celebrity crush?” He answered this quicker than you or he would like to admit. You also just didn’t  know how he came to the conclusion he did and how he was so correct with it, suspicious. “Harrison Ford hands down, can’t even knock it, he’s a handsome man.” The next question went swimmingly too. “Favourite hobby?” He gave it a thought for a second, glancing to you and back, “painting, she’ll say she’s no good at it but actually she’s got a gift. I’ve never seen anyone use colour the way she does. Actually, considered using some of your work for album art.”  He turned to you towards the end, and you struggled to decipher whether it was bullshit or not. Your heart actually ached at the thought of it being true. 

“Favourite movie?” Your brother in law’s turn to ask. You threw your head back in exasperation. “What is this, the Spanish inquisition? Is this really necessary?” You looked to your sister and her future husband. “Yes!” They admitted in unison. Eddie’s hand returned to your thigh, patting it softly, his thumb rubbing soothing shapes into your bare skin. It was working. God it was working. He was like ice against your fire, the way he cooled you.

“I’ve got this.” He assured you. “Yeah, you kind of do, that’s why it’s so fucking weird.” You admitted quietly but not enough as to hide it from anyone else, deeming it safe for public consumption. He smirked. “Scared I know too much about you?” You were. You were terrified. This time you do lower your voice. “Just didn’t know you could actually read. Guess my notes were a great help after all.” You stuck your tongue out. For a second he thought about taking it in his mouth, probably some other filthier thoughts floated around his brain too. It was something about the proximity and the cocktails you’d shared, you could always blame those.

“Anything Tim Burton but her favourite would have to be the one with Winona,” he knows he has it right, but he just can’t think of the name, turning to you momentarily for help, you mouthed “Edward Scissorhands” before he nodded and repeated it. Considering it featured his own name, you’d think he would remember it. He then paused, not for dramatic effect but so he could smile to himself as he thought about why that was your favourite. “It depicts the whole Frankenstein’s monster thing just finding his way into suburbia but we as the audience” he gestured to his chest, “see a lot more heart than that, an innocent kind of love, one we all want to make us feel worthy, naive really, but ultimately sweet and sacrificing.”

You leant in, your lips close to his ear. “If we were really dating, you’d be getting your dick sucked so hard tonight.” It took every bone in his body not shut the evening down and carry you back to your hotel room with that false promise in mind. He instead tried to ignore the now throbbing sensation in his trousers. Had you always done that to him?

“Ok those are fairly standard.” In what world was his last answer not specifically catered to you? “How about a random trivia round?…” The suggestions just kept going. If this were the only worthy form of entertainment they could find, married life was going to be abysmal. “Or.” He began and this is when you really, really started to panic, like exponentially. There was nothing that could have helped him out now. Your notes only consisted of the likes, dislikes, and the fake scenario in which you first met. There was nothing else. That was the end of the script. He couldn’t be that good at improvisation. You didn’t want the opportunity to find out either. You were no casting director. He no longer had to impress you or anyone else. If they were still at odds with the situation then so be it. You couldn’t please everyone. It really shouldn’t have taken you that long to realise it. Huh. The more you know.

“I can tell you about how she makes me feel.” You really, truly would rather you didn’t know. If it’s the truth, it would hurt. If it was a lie, well that might hurt even more. You begged the universe to keep him quiet. Whatever he had to say was going to blow your cover and throw this whole shit show up in flames. Your sister seemed so keen and intrigued enough to let him continue. You however, said your final goodbyes to any future you had where you weren’t a laughing stock for the entire family. A future where Eddie Munson couldn’t reject and discard you publicly. Now it was a very real possibility, you were far more upset than you ever thought you would be. Eddie glances at you briefly, bucking up the courage to put on the biggest and most detrimental show of his entire life. 

He doesn’t face your sister when the words come tumbling from his mouth. He faced you, addressing you like he needed you to hear this and fuck, maybe he did. You actually felt touched about it until he opened his mouth. “You’re kind of a fucking weirdo.” You went to shut him up as the embarrassment crept in, but he spoke louder as he often did. “You are, you’re a freak- and it’s so, it’s refreshing.” Your mouth closed but oh, so slowly. You began to listen to him, decided to trust him. “You’re fucking nuts.” You rolled your eyes. How many ways were there, to describe you as crazy? Why did he feel the need to use all of them? “But I like it. I do. I feel like I can be myself around you.” He talked with his hands a lot as he scrambled the words, rings clinking against each other. You reached for them, settling them in your lap and he silently thanked you for it. Everything got a whole lot easier when you held his hand. 

“You make it feel okay to be a bit crazy. You don’t have to be so straight or basic, you can just, be.” Just as you started to smile, you saw that you weren’t the only one. It was working, his little speech was actually working. “I like who I am around you. Even if sometimes you don’t. I like that you tell me when I piss you off. I like that you act like you hate me when you don’t. I like that you’re so fucking stubborn and headstrong you’d never rely on anyone else and that pisses me off.” You felt tingling racing across your chest. “I love that no moment with you feels forced. That, that smile, right there could make flowers bloom.” He gestured to your face with both of your hands linked together. “That your glare could cause a fucking storm or something.” You tried not to get swept up in the fact he’d stopped saying ‘like.’ 

“I love that everything feels okay when your hand is in mine, even when you try and say you don’t like holding hands, you’re too good at it to hate it. You know exactly the right moments.” He shook his head with a disbelief. It started to feel so real. “I think I’d miss you even if I’d never met you.” His hand tightened around yours when he said his last sentence. “And I’m glad I met you. I hope one day you’ll be glad you met me too.” The rest of his speech hadn’t mattered when he uttered those words. The words that knocked the breath out of you, leaving you fighting for your life in the seat next to him. You don’t think anyone had ever referred to you so kindly in your life, even if he did call you fucking mental at least 5 times throughout. 

He couldn’t even breathe. He’d said it. He’d let it all out and now he just saw the look of shock on your face and couldn’t take a single breath, not knowing how you’d react. It was news to him too though. He could play it off as a lie, say he saw it in a movie, some chick flick or something. He’d copied it because of course he had. But then again, on the off chance you weren’t horrified, he wasn’t sure if he had any more guts left to tell you it was true. He just knew that he needed to do something. He had to fill this painful silence somehow and thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone. 

You kissed him. You scraped your jaw off the floor, and you kissed him. You’d not kissed him like this before. Like your life depended on it. Like he was the very air you needed to breathe. Like he’d meant every word he’d just said, and you’d believed it. God you might have even felt the same. You were also slightly ashamed to say, it had your panties soaking between your thighs. Not to mention your heart thundering in your chest.

Eddie kissed you as if he were tattooing his words across your lips for all of eternity. Because for the first time throughout this whole charade, he was actually allowed to mean every word he had said, whether he knew this was how he was feeling at the start of the evening or not. Neither of you could have predicted a confession like this. Even after giving one, he wasn’t quite believing it himself. But fuck, there was freedom in it. There was a lovely form of permanence. Him knowing his words were out there for the universe to take and make with what it will. He felt weightless. It wasn’t the cocktails. Something just clicked in his brain, and he knew it. You were everything.

You melted into each other when his lips found yours. It was sweet and slow but confident, with purpose. Each stroke of his lips against yours carefully considered and carried out like clockwork. You’d felt a rush from this kiss. It was hungrier than any other you’d shared. Quite frankly it was starved. You’d pressed up against him so hard and he’d done just the same to you. His hands coming up to tilt your chin up towards him for more. As if you hadn’t been close enough already. Its only when you gasped at his touch did he slip his tongue into your mouth. You knew he’d had so much practice kissing women like this, but you couldn’t care. You allowed him inside, welcomed the way he licked into your mouth delicately. Blissfully enjoying the taste of his last cigarette on his breath, shocked that it’s not even a put off for you right now.

His words had gotten you drunker than the cocktails you’d been knocking back all evening. You almost whined when he dragged himself away from you. It was way too premature for your liking. Your eyes remained on him and only him as your hands fell back from their place atop his shoulders. You weren’t even sure when they’d gotten there in the first place, just swept away with nothing but him to guide you. 

He smiled at you; a smile you know he hadn’t been pretending. You were about to lean back in, sealing that gap between you, before you were reminded of exactly where you were. In public. Very much in public. You sank back into your seat sheepishly, heat rising to your cheeks, burning hot like lava ready to erupt. Eddie threw his arm around you, and you seized the opportunity to hide your face in the crook of his neck out of embarrassment. He thought it might be the cutest thing you could possibly have done. He even struggled to wipe the blush off his own cheeks. He felt like a school boy again. “Okay, fine, we believe you.” Your sister threw her hands up in defeat. You’d forgotten what you were even aiming to prove, your head was so flooded with hormones. It remained that way until you were back inside the hotel.

-

Back in the safety of your room, deep in the darkness, the only light being from the glowing orange streetlights outside, you found yourself nervous for what would come next. You needed a moment to think. “I’m going to take a shower.” You said softly. “Do you mind?” He shook his head, unable to speak. You’d think that after he’d already lay everything down on the table, that he’d find it easier to approach you, but he resorted back to silence. “Go ahead.” He offered. You wanted to ask him to join you. You didn’t. You just thought about it while you locked the bathroom door behind you. When you wiped off your makeup. When you turned the water on and waited for it to heat up before stripping and stepping inside. You thought about it even under the water, arm stretched out to reach you shampoo. You still didn’t.

He’s already tucked away under the sheets, while you’re in there. He thought about falling asleep, willing himself into a trance before you could return, he couldn’t. His mind was swimming with thoughts. He instead insured that the wall of cushions you’d built on night one, was as high as it ever was. There to wedge a distance between you once more. Which is what you wanted, right? It was your main housekeeping rule for sharing a bed.

“Hey." He breathed, as you returned from the bathroom, steam seeping out after you. He was nervous. You ignored it. He lay flat, facing the ceiling, his arms fastened at his sides above the covers. You shouldn’t let your eyes wander but the light had given you a clear path to follow, leading you to the tattooed arachnid of his chest. You wanted to touch it, you’re not sure why. You slipped silently into bed beside him, only you turned your back on him, willing the conversation to end. But you didn’t actually want it to be over. 

He rolled over without so much as a creak being made on the old bed. He barely even tugged the cover from you. It’s like a move too sudden would spook you and send you running, it might have, he couldn’t be certain. “Do you think the great wall of prevention might be ready to come down?” He nudged it into your back for emphasis. He didn’t want the night to end. You didn’t either. And yet, your stomach twisted to think of an excuse, a reason for it to stay very much where it was. Only you didn’t find one. “Okay.” You spoke softly. “Okay.” He repeats just as low, just making sure. You hardly felt him moving them. It was so unlike him to be so gentle, so light handed, treading carefully. He was so cautious and calculated, you never thought he had it in him. The cushions were gone. Now what?

“I’m gonna ask you something, you don’t have to say yes, but I really need to ask it so please just hear me out.” There were a million different things he could have asked you; you’d never have enough time to predict it or rehearse the correct answer, you could only breathe as you anticipated it. “Can I hold you?” It felt good to say it, even if his breath was shaky and his heart felt like it might just pack in. He really wanted to touch you. That was before he even saw you there, lay in the warm glow of the light, hair still a little damp, loose over your shoulder, your t-shirt clinging to your body.

The sheets weren’t covering your lower half as well as you’d thought they were, not now the barrier between you was down. Now he could see the lace band of your panties peeking bellow your sleep shorts. He was about to abandon the whole ordeal. Just a peek shouldn’t have been enough to stir him between his legs and maybe it wasn’t, not on its own. But if he’d counted every other occasion tonight where you’d looked too pretty, sounded too sweet, it all added up and he guessed it contributed to the problem. 

He started to worry when you didn’t answer him. You obviously weren’t asleep. You were clearly fiddling with the sheets, your fingers tugged at the material anxiously. He’d completely overstepped, he should have expected that. You weren’t together. You wouldn’t ever be together. That was all this entire weekend was supposed to be after all. Just an opportunity to fake it. How could he be so stupid? “Come here.” He looks down to see you half turned back to him, the duvet lifted, giving him even more of a view of your shorts, but he tried not to look at you too much. To just see the invitation, which was what mattered the most. 

He wasn’t sure how to approach, you couldn’t help him either. You would spoon, that was a given, you hadn’t budged your position, left him no choice but to mould his body around yours. He shuffled closer, awkwardly trying to stretch his right arm underneath your pillow without lifting your head, hurting your neck. He curled around your back, leaving inches between you, like he couldn’t quite make himself grow any closer. His left arm rested on his own hip, too afraid to reach out and touch yours. He’d asked to hold you. Why can’t he hold you? 

You took matters into your own hands. You blindly reached behind you, hands finding his. Your one superpower. You interlock your fingers with his and bring his arm around your waist, the heat of his body coming with it. You could probably feel his heart pounding chest now he allowed it to press against your back. You definitely felt the goosebumps climbing his arms when you pressed a feather light kiss to his knuckle. His heart leapt in his chest.

“What was that for?” He lifted his head, you don’t know it, but he can see enough of your face from this angle to catch the blush on your cheeks and the smile that crept onto it. He’s reassured by it. “Just felt like it.” You shrugged. Only he doesn’t buy it, but he won’t push his luck. His head hit the pillow, only this time, he’s closer to you. His nose is nearly buried in your apple scented locks. You were so sweet smelling at all times, but that apple was just so incredibly you. He knew you’d only used the stuff because it came in a green bottle too. Because only you would map your product selection on the colour alone. It was one of the first facts in your note cards, that your favourite colour was green.

Fuck. He thinks. He really fucking liked you. He wouldn’t even curse himself for it. You weren’t what he expected, and he liked that. He liked that this didn’t go to plan. He liked that he couldn’t pretend any longer. He was grinning to himself, chuckling even. He boldly buried his head in the crook of your neck like he’d done a couple of times that night but more invasively now there wasn’t much space between you. 

“What’s so funny?” You shook his hand in yours. “Hmm?” You fought a laugh yourself; his laughter was infectious; it was just stupid and cute and stupid. “Gareth was right.” He said. You turned your head back slightly, unable to see anything really, before giving up and leaning into the pillow again. “Bout what?” He leaned his head on your shoulder, lips nearing your ear. “Told me this wouldn’t work.” Interesting really, since he ushered you into asking him into this at the start. You’re suitably confused. He’s holding you, giggling in your ear, body warm against yours in this stupidly large bed that he’d made feel tiny, after convincing your family how in love you are, and he said it wasn’t working. That Gareth, your biggest influencer, had also predicted it. Well, you’d have said the opposite. 

“This isn’t working.” You have a questioning tone. “Didn’t seem like that downstairs.” You were defensive, rightly so. “No, not like that.” He started. Your grip on his hand loosened and he panicked. ‘Just say what you mean, say what you mean,’ he tells himself. “Turn over.” He leant himself up, still firmly on his side. “Why?” He rolled his eyes. “Please turn over.” He pleaded. “Whyy?” You say again. “Fuck, would you just-“ he shook his hand free from yours, placing it firmly on your hip and he twisted you, so you were flat on your back, facing up at him with surprise. He didn’t expect that to work as well as it did.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He huffed. “Thanks.” Your arms crossed over your stomach, you tried to avoid his gaze, but he manoeuvred himself so that he was directly above you. He decided you couldn’t be trusted to keep you gaze anywhere but on him. You had to give him a shot. Your expression had softened at the sight of him. Just like he’d hoped. His stupid round cheeks. The dumb smile. Why was he always smiling? 

“I wanna kiss you.” He said. You thought he was childish. “Is holding not enough?” He shook his head. “Never enough.” He leaned in close, but he doesn’t kiss you, not yet. His forehead just pressed against yours, his lips hovered, breath tickling your own mouth. “Can I?” He begged for it. “Yes.” You breathed. He does. His lips brush yours and it’s just as nice as every other kiss he’d given you. You’re not sure why you expected it to be different all of a sudden. You just had the idea that maybe it would be. Now that you, well now that you actually liked it.

But it wasn’t different, it was exactly the same. “Eddie.” You whined. “Yeah?” He was upset that you’d interrupted such a crucial moment. “It doesn’t feel like I thought it would.” Your fingers stroked over his cheek; he arched a brow to question you. “We have kissed before; you remember that right?” He teased. You couldn’t have been that drunk. “Yes. Shut up. That’s not what I meant.” He’s still not on the same page although relieved somewhat that you were in fact sober like he thought.

In his mind that kiss was perfect, electrifying, mind blowing, the best kiss yet, you’d have known it too if you didn’t stop him so quickly. “What’s it feel like?” He tried to understand. You thought for a moment. What did it feel like? Warm, soft, sweet, he was one of the sweetest tastes. Where most men would taste of mint, Eddie didn’t. He tasted like cigarettes and the kiwi and strawberry gum he chewed to mask the scent of them on his breath. It didn’t work completely, it more meshed together into its own unique flavour.

It felt nice. “Feels normal.” You said it like it was a bad thing and he can’t understand why. “What’s so wrong with that?” You tried to shake your head. Shake some sense into yourself. You were blowing it. “Kiss me again.” You didn’t have to ask him twice. He pushed his lips against yours, harder than the first time, much harder. Barely leaving a gap between you. Suffocating you with his kiss. He feels like this time he has to try harder; he needed to give you his all. There had to be more. 

His lips glided over yours, his lips rough but still careful. His tongue poking out slowly, licking gently over your bottom lip. You part it instinctively and the second his tongue slithered across your teeth, you finally felt it. You don’t know why it took you till the second try. You’re so grateful you felt it at all, but you were panicking for a second, thinking you’d made this huge mistake because how could you let yourself fall for him after all this nonsense? Then you felt it, that spark kicking you to life. That fire in your belly, burning you up inside, begging for his coolness to dampen it down. You fucking needed him.

Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails tucking into them just a little. He’s feeling the heat radiating from you, your energy pouring into him. He’s smiling against your mouth as your tongue meets his briefly. He just knows that this time, he’s got you. “You had me worried there for a second.” He panted, not wanting to pull away but needing to say something. You kissed him over and over, distracting him. Now you’d started, you couldn’t stop. “I know, I’m so cruel.” He smirked, kissing you back just as vigorously, hand coming to your throat, resting gently on it before tilting your chin up towards him.

You captured his eyes, so dark, nearing black in the dim light. If it weren’t for the golden flecks you’d be convinced they really were that dark. “Had to be sure.” He pecked your lips. “Yeah?” You did the same. “Yeah.” He’s so close that every time his eyes closed and reopened, you felt his lashes fanning your cheeks. “And now?” He asked so hopefully, heart on the line as he waited on your answer. You wanted to make him wait, torture him a little, not tonight, tonight you were kind enough to put him out of his misery. “Now I want you.” You said. He could have punched the air with excitement. 

You’re kissing again. Scrambling around, his body lowered on top of you, one hand resting on your cheek, the other grazing your hip bone. His body shuddered when you whimpered under the weight of him. You let your legs widen as he slipped between them, all before he lifted your thigh, depositing it safely around his waist. You prayed that he didn’t immediately feel the dampness in your shorts but you’re not the only one struggling.

His hard on rubbed into you, your lips parting with surprise. “Fuck.” He muttered, momentarily halting your make out session, the heat between your thighs overwhelming him. You sensed his embarrassment, his cheeks burning with it. “Me too.” You breathed. Lips pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose as your hand slipped between you, coming down to cup his bulge boldly through his shorts. 

The groan he released is sinful, maybe even painful. He felt big. He felt impossibly big. He wouldn’t fit in your hand, maybe not even in the two of them. He thrust into your hand when he felt you touch him. It was his first instinct; he couldn’t fight it. “Shit, sorry.” You caught his lips, tugging his bottom one between your teeth, releasing it slowly. “Gonna move my hand, want you to do it again.” If he thought he was embarrassed at his neediness before, it was about to get a whole lot more mortifying. 

Your hand moved away, he was grinding his hips down into you as you’d asked, and you felt the way his cock jumped into action. “Baby.” You panted. He’s sure his heart is going to explode, maybe his cock too, probably that first. “Say it again.” He needed it. “Baby.” You kissed him. He’s rocking his hips into you, you started rotating your own, rubbing yourself over his cock, hand moving out of the way. “Baby, baby, fuck.” He’s covered your lips with his, nose mashed up against you, you can’t breathe, you don’t even want to, you wouldn’t miss the feeling. All of this felt so much more important. “Feel so good.” You whine. He never would have thought you’d be so vocal. You didn’t seem like the type. Thought you’d be a bit of a brat maybe but not this, not confident and sexy and so sure of what you wanted. He could love that; he could love you. 

“More, need more.” You’re eyes rolled back when he’s lifting your hips with both hands, pulling your core over him. His cock slipping through your folds through too many barriers of clothing. “Shit Ed.” You felt the sensation of fire burning into you, setting you alight. You’re dizzy and hot and you just felt so good against him. The friction of his shorts might have been frustrating, but it was also, so rewarding. It was such a good roughness against your clothed mound. “Are you?” He can’t even say it, too busy dragging you over his cock. “I’m, fuck, Eddie.” He doesn’t stop, not for a second, not for a beat. He makes you ride it out. He’s so stupidly proud of himself. He’d barely touched you and you’d come undone. You’d actually fucking came. “Fucking unreal for me.” He slowed himself down before he followed a similar path to destruction. 

He’s pushing your hips back down, letting your body sink into the mattress, pulling away from you to catch a breath. “I can’t believe that.” Your hand floats through your hair combing it back. He’s resting back on his knees, still between your legs. “You’re so fucking hot.” His eyes don’t look anywhere but your face. Your shirt is half way up your chest, bare tits poking out for him to see and yet, he doesn’t look.

You can’t say you share the same sentiment. Your eyes raced to the outline of his erection in them grey basketball shorts. You drank in the sight before you and your teeth clamped down into your lower lip. He reached down to squeeze your thigh. “My eyes are up here.” He gestured with his index and middle finger. You smirked up at him. “Kind of wish they weren’t.” You didn’t miss a beat. “Yeah?” You nodded. Eyes falling back to his very, large problem that he now palmed through his clothing. Shit, even his own hand wouldn’t cover him.

“Gonna keep looking or do you feel like helping?” His voice was awfully steady for someone ready to come apart at the mere thought of your touch. “You want me to?” You’re not sure what you’re asking. “Need you to.” He said. You sat yourself up. “Gonna take this shirt off me first?” You looked up at him, eyes wider than he’d ever seen, somehow so innocent even though you were anything but. “Of course, I am.” His hands didn’t waste any time lifting the material off over your head. You felt the bite of a chill rush over you, your nipples hardening, perking up with it. “So, very, sexy.” He can’t believe his luck. You’re amazed that you don’t feel shy, being so exposed to him. Guess that was good, it felt natural, you felt safe. 

“Gonna help you.” You warned, hands slipping down into his shorts. You gasped at the immediate contact with his bare skin. “No underwear.” He smirked down at you. “Fucking slut.” Your hand cupped him just like before, yeah, definitely needs more than one hand. “You love it.” He chanted “I do.” You confirmed, squeezing him hard. The rush of air that left his mouth, oh it made this all so worth it. You tried to be bolder, you took his length in your palm for the first time. You gripped him tight and moaned in unison. He moaned at the feeling of finding home in your soft touch. You moaned; at the way your hand can’t even wrap around him fully. He’s too thick, too girthy, there wasn’t enough of you to take it all. 

“Do something.” He urged, forehead leaning on yours for stability more than anything else. “Ah right, that’s what I was doing.” You play as you sprang to action, your hand lifting to the throbbing head of his cock, letting the trickles of beaded cum roll into your palm before you can cover him in it using it whilst you twist your hand up and down his length. “Ohh, fuck.” It came out gravelly. He’d never thought much of hand jobs, said no to many throughout his life, never being worth the time, never feeling as good as his own hand. This though. You. Your hand. You touched him and he swore your hand was made to hold his cock. Even if that sounded ridiculous, there had to be some way of it being true because he felt so good. His cock was slick and hot, it glided through your grip with ease and your tightened fist on him, it was incredible.

You knew to tug him hard at the base, to loosen around his tip. To constantly use his pooling arousal to your advantage. You worked his cock better than anyone else could, maybe even better than him. You weren’t rushing, you didn’t wank him hard begging for it all to be over, getting bored of the feeling. No, you just touched him. Switching your pace. Listening to his hot little sounds. Paying attention to what made him twitch, what made him rut his hips into your palm. You loved touching him, you wanted to touch him forever, every which way you could. 

He started fucking your hand. He’s not sure he can stop himself and you’re so turned on by it you actually moan. “What are you doing to me?“ He’d never felt like this before. You’d made him so weak. He was desperately thrusting into your fist like a pathetic little virgin, and you were moaning. He had to be making this up, you weren’t real, none of this could have been real. “Fuck Ed.” You’re soaked at the idea of it all, you even clenched down on fucking nothing, the thought of him inside you instead of just the palm of your hand, it’s too much to bear. “Need to fuck me.” You quicken your pace, your hand tugging at him desperately. “Fuck, fuck. Stop, you gotta stop.” He doesn’t want you to, God knows he doesn’t, but if you don’t, he’s gonna fucking bust all over your perfect little hand. 

He forced your hand out of his shorts and you have the audacity to pout up at him when he does. “You’re something fucking else.” He pushed you back, your head drops happily onto your pillow. “Something good I hope.” You toyed with him, and he is about to lose it. “Take these off.” He tugged at your own shorts, and you didn’t budge. “Off.” He commands, climbing off the bed, feet hitting the cold wooden floor of the hotel room. 

You shifted behind him, pulling your shorts and panties down your thighs, tossing the material to the general vicinity of your shirt. Your hands are once again in your hair, combing through it with nerves just eating away at you. You ached for him. Your thighs were squeezed so tightly shut you thought he might never pry them open again. You were on edge, literally dying there waiting. He’d dropped his shorts; they’d hit the ground quietly. He stepped out of them quickly, hand lifting to touch himself, he let out a quiet hiss when he did. He was so turned on, cock so tight and hot in his hand, he’d bury himself in you and never wish to leave. 

He climbed back onto the bed, settling on his knees like he had before. His hand rolled delicately across his tip, soaking himself still, using his own arousal to ready himself for you. His cock had a wet sheen in the light. You thought it looked even more delicious now with a coating like that. Perhaps your legs would part after all. “You sure?” He thinks he knows your answer, but he’d hate himself if he didn’t check. This had all been so perfect, better than he could have ever imagined because God, his imagination wasn’t half as creative enough to make you up. You were far better than anyone he’d ever known. The more he knew you, the better you got. Each and every layer, prettier or wittier or more perfect. You must have been real. Real and a gift made just for him because you had him hook line and sinker. He was dumb to credit himself for thinking he imagined you a few moments ago.

“Fuck me.” You spoke. He shook his head. Leaning over you, tip throbbing hard when it breached your walls for the first time before making a heady retreat, running through your slick, wet, lips instead. “Can’t.” He said. Running his cock up and down, eyes flickering shut, throat drying with his pure fucking thirst for you. “Why not?” You furrowed your brow. He’s right there, all he had to do was enter you. You could just lift your hips and he’d slip his fat cock inside. “Can’t call this fucking, not when you feel this good.” You think you might have passed out when pushed inside of you. “Oh, fuck.” He covered your lips to catch your moan. He didn’t think about the fact he’d be sinking in further, bottoming out, pelvis to pelvis with you when he did. 

Your legs wrapped around him so tightly your heels began to dig into his tasty, round backside. You fasten him in place intentionally. You needed to feel him. Needed to feel him in his entirety, pulsing inside you. He bit down on your shoulder till he tasted a metal zing of fresh blood, he’d apologise at a later date. For now, he needed it. You were sopping wet around him, engulfing his cock in a warm, tight sleeve. With each breath you took he slipped a little bit further inside. You felt so full you’d felt him bulging in your stomach, so far inside you it even hurt you.

“I need to move, gotta let me move.” He locked eyes with you before you nodded, loosening your legs, letting him withdraw his hips, pulling right back away from you, tip nearly leaving the crevice of your wetness. Then he pushed back in, all the way, hips against hips and you fucking moaned. You moaned so loud he thought he hurt you, ready to withdraw and panic at that thought. But then you lifted your hips to meet his. You meet his next thrust and then the next, and the next. You don’t let him do a damn thing without your involvement. You needed to be in this together because what’s the fucking point if you can’t give each other your all? 

“You’re so wet, soaking me.” You can only sigh, you’re not sorry, he got you so damn good he ought to be proud. “So damn hot. Gonna need to change the fucking sheets.” He rambled on. His hands dig delicious bite marks into your hips. Yours place a similar attack atop his shoulders. “Feel unreal.” You captured his lips in a needy kiss, chest pushing up as your back arched involuntarily. “Very real, so fucking real.” You muttered. As your back arched further, Eddie found a place within you, a sensitive spot he angled into unexpectedly. A place you’d only ever touched yourself. You shook, and you clenched down on him, hard. 

He’d be an idiot not to notice it. You were clamping down so much he worried he’d lose circulation all together. “You want me dead don’t you?” He slammed his hips down into you. “Won’t be happy till I’m not fit for anyone else, that it?” His chest flattened against yours, his cock reaching that angle even more intrusively than before and you’re about to scream for it.

He’s got so much pressure leaning against it you’re about to crumble and he doesn’t even know it. “Eddie.” You panicked, hands snaking into his hair, tugging his brown ringlets. He couldn’t get any closer to you and yet you needed it, wanted him covering you. “Fuck, you’re, fuck are you cumming?“ He leaned his head back, looking down into your eyes, you have tears brimming in them and he can’t believe it, he was so right. “Please, please don’t stop.” Your voice came out so weak, soft, precious, and broken and he thought you sounded like a needy little princess when you begged for him like that. “Anything, anything for you.” He meant it too. 

His hand wrapped around your throat loosely and tenderly as he coaxed your second orgasm from you. Your scream caught in your throat. He kissed you hard, breathing life erratically back into you. The way you tightened around his cock has his eyes roll back into his skull, his teeth biting down hard on your plump, cherry lips. He’s so close to cumming himself, but he will not let himself go until you’ve done it first. He had to make it through. He had to feel the way you came around his dick for the first time. Needed it imbedded in his brain as the religious experience it certainly felt like it would be.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you’re not even aware you’re yelling his name out there. You just do it. That’s what gets him in the end. Your pretty little voice wrapping around his name, securing the idea that he was in fact the guy who’d made you crumble into a mess in these sheets, twice. It was all him. “Where, fuck, where do you-“ he can’t even say it, can’t get the words out. “In me, need it in me, please baby.” 

He did as you asked, his hips pulsing into you, cock sputtering, leaking his hot cum inside you. You felt it all. Deep inside, covering you, damning you. You were claimed from the inside out. There wasn’t a single piece of you that wasn’t marked as his now. If you hadn’t felt full before, you certainly did now. His cum filling you entirely, anything his cock couldn’t previously reach was now pressured by him cum flooding inside you and it was so unbelievably good. You sighed heavily at the thought of it. “So, fucking good.” You muttered. Him filling you was just so erotic to you. He’d felt exactly the same because of course he did, he was made for you. He loved that you’d let him take you like that. It felt heavenly pouring himself into you, coating you in his colours. Pulling out might just be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do. 

His body covered yours. He’s no strength to hold himself above you, but no way of pulling away just yet. You’d not minded his weight at all. You’d actually enjoyed it, felt comforted by it. Even if your bodies were sweat soaked and desperately in need of another shower, it felt nothing but perfect lying here a little longer. Your fingers massaged into his scalp, he hummed at the relief of your touch. His breathing slowed down, softly blowing over your chest where his head lay comfortably.

You decided you loved the sound of him breathing. You can’t explain exactly why that is, but it offered you some kind of comforting stimulation that you think you’d listen to happily for hours. The mere existence of him, being enough to soothe you. “So that, uh-“ he licked his bottom lip, wetting the dryness there. “That happened.” You heart leaped and you know he felt it. “Don’t make it weird.” You nearly begged. “I’m not making it weird.” You poked his head. “You’re making it weird.” You accused, poking him again. “Would you stop?”

He lifted his head this time to avoid another attack. Well fuck. If he thought you looked beautiful before, it had nothing on the way you looked now. You were flustered and tired, your eyes wet with tears and probably sweat and yet, gorgeous. “You’re staring.” He hated you. “I can’t stop.” He’s lying. He could, he just never wanted to. “What will people think?” You gasped. “How will we tell them?” He continued, following your train of thought like he’d conjured it himself.

“Well, what do we actually have to tell? You know, to get our story straight.” He knew that was your not-so-subtle way of asking what you were, after all of this, but he doesn’t mind it because he’d also liked to know. As cliché as it was. It really did happen that fast. “Well,” he rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand, watching as your face leaned into his touch. “Your family think we’re in love so, that’s kind of handled.” You laughed. “That you’re way of confessing your love for me?” You dig with a smile. “No.” Yes. But it was way too soon to verbalise that. Sure, you’d known him for a while, but this weekend was the closest you’d ever been. And yeah, he may have felt it in his bones, but he wasn’t crazy enough to admit it to you. Jesus Christ. “So, it’s just, everyone else.” He nodded, then repeated after you. “Everyone else.” Easier said than done. 

“What if I uh, slip you another 200?” He rolled his eyes. Only you would ask that. “Oh, because I haven’t whored myself out enough?” You grinned. “Well, if the shoe fits baby.” He nudged your nose with his own. “No but seriously, what would 200 get me?” You tried to deadpan but the smile refused to leave you. “I’m refunding it by the way.” You feigned shock. “My money not good enough for you Munson?” He looked at you with a ‘you really asking me that?’ look on his face. Though technically, you hadn’t actually given the money to him yet. “Only asked for it because I knew it’d piss you off sweetheart.” That hadn’t surprised you at all. “I dragged my ass to the bank for nothing.” He thought he might howl with laughter. 

“You got cash out?” There he goes, those chubby fucking cheeks, the crinkling eyes. “You actually withdrew 200 bucks for me?” You wanted the bed to swallow you whole. “I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE YOUR BANK DETAILS EDWARD!” You yelled and he laughed harder, nearly rolling off you all together until he remembered he was still very much inside of you. “I’m so fucking dumb.” You face palmed with the embarrassment of it all. “You kinda are.” He agreed. He knew you’d hate his lack of support. “I like em dumb though.” He also knew he deserved the flick you gave him. “We’ll get you to the bank tomorrow, don’t you worry babe.” This time you didn’t flick him. “Not going anywhere tomorrow.” You sighed, arms wrapping around him. His stomach fluttered when you held him like that. “Why, what you got planned?“ He nuzzled his face happily into your breast, his spare hand squishing the other nicely. “Gonna get my fucking money’s worth that’s what.” 

[slutforslytherinx]

stress smokes

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: the rule-following perfect student snaps and resorts to a late night smoke session with the infamous mattheo riddle.

warnings: marijuana, stress, slight angst, and that’s it?? super fluffy ౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆

a/n: this is my first time writing on this…. apologies if it’s bootyhole😞

the library was nearly empty, most students chatting in their common room with their friends. exams were still a moderate distance away, not near enough for the tables to be full of stressing teenagers.

you were one of the few there, tucked in the corner everyone knew was yours, hidden behind two bookshelves full of dust. the words had started blurring on the pages nearly an hour ago and your frustration nearing the point of a mental breakdown.

you re-read every sentence multiple times, yet your brain seemed as though it just couldn’t retain the information. angry tears swelled in your eyes and you slammed the book shut before any could drip onto the parchment pages.

this was bound to happen at some point. one person could only take so many books about lacewing flies and ashwinder eggs before they snapped. for the first time since you arrived at hogwarts 6 years ago, you were giving up.

your favorite professors always warned you to take care of yourself before you burnt out, yet you never listened. now you were screwed. aggressively shoving your belongings into your bag, you decided that you were going to be have fun tonight.

you were going to get your mind off of textbooks and study sessions, and do something you’d never done before. despite your irritation, you still gave madam pince a small smile and wave before exiting.

the moon was already high in the sky, stars appearing by its side, but you knew where he would be. you’d ran into him at this time on many occasions. with your bag clutched over your shoulder and a determined mind, you made your way up to the astronomy tower.

just as you expected, he was there. mattheo had a small joint dangling from his fingers, the end lit with small sparks of fire. you sat down next to him silently, and he lazily turned his head to look at you.

“hey princess, care to join?” you rolled your eyes at the pet name, snatching the roll out of his hands and inhaling swiftly. his eyes widened as he tried to steal it back from you. “what the hell?” he asked, finally pulling it from your grasp.

you exhaled the smoke into the air, coughing up a lung as you did. he watched you with an annoyed expression, waiting impatiently until you were done wheezing. once the coughs subsided, he flicked you. “ow! what’s your problem?”

he shrugged carelessly, “just making sure you’re real and not some weird hallucination.” you scoffed and turned your head to look back at the sky. he flicked you again, “okay, seriously? what the hell? what happened to ‘smoking is bad for you. your gonna get lung cancer and die.’” he mocked, raising his pitch to imitate a girly voice.

“stop flicking me!” you exclaimed, rubbing the skin of your arm tenderly. you tried to grab the joint again, but he pulled it back and raised his eyebrows in a way that communicated ‘you’re not getting anything until you explain whats going on.’

you sighed, rubbing your temples tiredly. he watched you the whole time, his confusion morphing to slight worry. “i just want to have fun. i want to stop thinking about stupid studying for one minute and be relaxed. i want to have a night where i think im worth more than academic success, so can you just help me out here?”

he stared at you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget the longer his gaze was on you. finally, he puffed out a breath of air, hesitatingly passing it to you. “thank you.” you muttered quietly, raising it to your lips. he stopped you before it met your mouth.

“don’t inhale a lot. you’ll start coughing again.” you glanced at him, nodding before following his instructions. true to his word, it worked, and you passed it back to him. you two sat in silence for a while, taking turns before it was gone.

the effects soon started to hit, making you let out a tiny laugh at the weird sensation. he looked at you with raised eyebrows, amused, as your tiny laugh developed into a full blown giggle attack. “if i didn’t know you’d never smoked before, i would now.” he murmured to himself. you chose to ignore that.

you soon stopped laughing, opting to stare at the moon instead. it was quiet once more, until you spoke up, almost too low for mattheo to catch. “thank you.” he nodded, and you turned to look at him.

“no, i mean thank you.” he tilted his head a little, bemused. “sometimes i feel like your the only person who doesn’t look at me like a walking cheat sheet. i like that. you’re real, you don’t just talk to me when you want something.” you grinned, not realizing the true depth of your own words.

he was quiet for a couple a long moment, his heart pounding faster in his chest for the oblivious girl next to him. “your a lot more amazing than people give you credit for.” your cheeks heated, and you looked to your knees timidly.

you and mattheo both had a feeling that you’d be seeing a lot more of eachother.