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#or just like smoke a joint together that’s fine too
cryptvokeeper · 3 months
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Zulf Bastion and Yomiel Ghost Trick would get along like a depressed fiancé-missing house on fire
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hairmetal666 · 3 months
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Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.
He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.
He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.
They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.
"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.
"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"
He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.
"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.
"Had a show?"
"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.
Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.
"Don't--"
"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.
"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"
"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.
"Like you ever could."
Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.
"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"
Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.
Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"
The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.
--
When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.
They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.
Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.
--
In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.
Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"
"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.
"Steve."
"Robin."
They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"
"I don't want either of you to get hurt."
Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."
"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"
He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."
And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.
Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"
"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.
They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.
As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.
Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.
But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.
He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.
--
They aren't as close after that.
Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.
Until Eddie stops returning his calls.
He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.
"Steve? What are you--"
"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"
Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."
He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.
"Eddie, I--"
"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"
Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.
"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.
He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.
The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.
The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.
It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.
--
Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.
It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.
"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.
"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"
"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."
Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."
"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"
"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."
"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."
"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."
Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.
They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.
"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."
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retrobutterflies · 2 years
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Menace | e.m.
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Eddie Munson x Female!Reader
Summary: Telling a guy at a party that you have a boyfriend doesn't seem to deter him. Probably because that guy is your boyfriend and you're too drunk to realize.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Drinking, Major Fluff, Established Relationship, Cute pet names
A/N: Don't ever settle for a relationship if they wouldn't do your night routine for you.
The music was starting to give Steve a headache. Gone were the days of being the keg king and beer pong master, first to have a drink and last to stumble his way home. Now suddenly he was more worried about drunk Robin asking people far too personal questions and even drunker you deciding to play another drinking game because you liked that it had cards in it.
"Please, I'm sincerely begging you, Y/N, just sit down–" you interjected with a whine, staring up at him with heartbroken eyes.
"Steve, the game just started. I didn't even break the circle–" a loud hiccup cut off your slurred protests making Robin let out a squeaking laugh from the seat next to you.
Steve let out a tired sigh, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute before zeroing in on the two of you.
"Well, we're gonna play a new game. It's called sit here while Steve makes a phone call," he said, eyes flickering from yours, wide and disgruntled, to Robin's, half lidded from the joint he had found in her hand, not a clue where she got it from.
"It sounds awful," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking back into the couch.
"Yeah the name sucks," Robin said, picking up an unfinished drink from the side table next to the couch. Steve snatched it from her before she could press it to her lips because it wasn't her drink and she had thrown in her half smoked joint not even thirty seconds before, the rolled blunt floating around in the dark liquid.
"Rob, stop trying to drink everything you see. You're not aquatic," he hissed, harshly dropping the drink on a table out of her reach.
"Well maybe I'm dehydrated, Steve. You gonna let me die of thirst?" she quipped back, eyes blinking slowly revealing red rimmed irises.
"Then I'll get you a water, Robin," he hissed back, eyes narrowing at her. "But first let me make one single phone call, okay? You're not gonna die of thirst in three minutes."
"I might! I feel my cells disintegrating as we speak!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. You turned to look at her, mouth dropping open slight in horror.
"Disintegrating?" you repeated.
"Every moment that passes–POOF. Another mitochondria bites the dust," she confirmed, giving you a sad smile and a shrug.
"No–" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.
"That's terrible," you expressed, lips pouting and looking to Steve with an expression of alarm. "That's so sad."
"The saddest," she nodded again as Steve muttered an incredulous "Oh my god."
"We need to do something, Steve! Her mitochondria!"
"My mitochondria, Steve!" Robin echoed you, tone mocking as she smirked at him. Steve felt his headache growing steadily.
"Fine! Fine! I'll go get you a drink! Just stay on this fucking couch. Got it?" When neither of you protested, eyes flickering back and forth between your faces he added a strict Stay like you would a disobedient dog.
He hurried to find the house phone, knowing his timeframe was limited before the two of you wandered off in opposite directions, giving him another wild good chase to corral you together. It was late and he was tired and he desperately needed to call in some back up.
Punching in the numbers, Steve cast distasteful looks at the not so innocent sounds emanating from the bathroom adjacent from the landline. The phone rang for a while, making him fear no one was going to answer until finally the receiver picked up.
"Munson residence," the chirpy voice of Eddie Munson had Steve releasing a short-lived sigh of relief.
"Eddie, it's Steve," he said, pressing close to the wall to avoid two girls swaying dangerously and stumbling past him with mirroring green faces.
"Stevie! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Eddie seemed to be eating something as his words were slightly muffled.
"I need you to come get your girlfriend." He tried not to sound like he was begging even though that's exactly what he was doing.
There was shuffling on the line before Eddie's voice rang out clear, "She okay?"
Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's fine just plastered," he thought for a moment before adding with exasperation, "and like obsessed with card games. And really bad at them so she keeps losing and drinking more."
Eddie's charmed laugh sounded over the static of the receiver. Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Of course Eddie found anything you did endearing. You could insult Black Sabbath and he would still look at you like you put the stars in the sky. You had him completely under your enchantment.
"Just make sure she's not taking any," Eddie replied, his smile drenching his tone.
"Taking any what?"
"Card decks. She likes to collect them."
Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet. Then Eddie laughed again and Steve had to resist banging his head against the wall.
"Eddie. I'm begging you. Please, just, come pick her up," he said through clenched teeth.
It didn't take Eddie long to reach the house party. You had mentioned where you were going earlier that night, commenting that it wasn't too far from where Corroded Coffin was playing and that maybe he could stop by after. He had agreed under the impression that you would probably be home by the time he was finished because it was far later than you were usually out. So he had headed home thinking you were in bed until Steve had called.
And now he was weaving through a legion of drunk high schoolers, on his way to relieve a very stressed sounding Steve from his never-ending babysitter duties. You were sat on a couch, arms crossed as you glared at Steve and Robin endlessly bickering about something. When Steve saw him he called him over.
"I'm taking Robin home. Good luck with that one because she snuck another drink in when I wasn't looking," Steve grumbled, hooking his arm through Robin's as she whined at him.
"What if I don't want to go home," Robin shot at him, eye brows raising.
"I don't care. It's late and I'm tired so we're leaving," he stated, tugging her towards the door.
"You're not the governor of the universe, Steve."
Eddie watched their retreating forms before turning his attention back on you. Your gaze seemed far away as you looked forward, not seeming to have even noticed his presence. He took few steps towards you before sinking into the seat next to you.
"Hey, trouble," he said, reaching out a hand to brush softly against your cheek.
You pulled away like you had been burned and turned to give him a glare. He lost his breath for a moment, confused by the sudden hostility.
"Can you leave me alone?" Your voice was slurred but it didn't conceal the overt bite to your tone. He felt a bubble of hurt grow in his chest, hand dropping to his lap.
"You want me to leave you alone?" he echoed, slightly bewildered. Hours before coming here you were pouting at him for not being able to join, acting as though it would physically hurt you to be away from him for a night. And now, suddenly, you didn't want him here? Were you mad at him for abandoning you?"
"Yeah. I have a boyfriend, so, you can leave," you bit back. He blinked at you, digesting your words, before relaxing. Your glassy eyes gave no indication that you realized it was him. You weren't mad at him, you were mad at the thought of a random guy bothering you at this party. He couldn't conceal his grin.
"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" he asked, playing along as the tension eased from his body. He wanted to reach out and push your hair behind your ear but restrained himself.
"Eddie. Eddie Munson. And he'll beat you up if he finds out you're bothering me," you proclaimed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glared at him, or however many versions of him you were seeing with your blurred vision.
"He will, will he?" he felt giddy at your admission.
He had had moments in your year long relationship where he let his insecurity eat away at him. You were beautiful and kind and alluring. You unconsciously had people gravitating towards you and sometimes he worried that one day someone would turn your head and steal you away from him. But seeing you be so cold to someone even attempting to have a conversation with you, bringing him up immediately, had his heart selfishly warming.
"Yeah and he's on his way to come get me. So try your luck with someone else," you concluded, words slightly garbled as you gave him your best glare.
"How many drinks have you had, trouble?" he asked, laughing incredulously. Your steely glare hardened. You unfolded your arms to poke him harshly in the shoulder.
"You don't get to call me that. Only my boyfriend can call me that," you stated, poking him again for good measure. It didn't hurt him but he feigned pain anyway, hand flying to his shoulder as he sunk back like he was shot.
He opened his mouth to respond but suddenly you were clambering your way off the couch, form swaying as the alcohol in your system made your vision spin. Eddie was up next to you in an instant, gripping your elbows to steady you.
"Easy, sugar. Don't want you face planting," he murmured, trying to bit back his laugh. You halfheartedly swatted him away, making him remove his hands from you only to hover them behind you in case you started swaying again.
"I just told you not to touch me. I'll beat you up myself if I have to," you said, giving his shoulder a light shove that had you stumbling instead of it's intended affect. Eddie ghosted his hands behind your back as you righted yourself, eyes dancing over your flushed face and glazed eyes.
You marched away from him, dead set on avoiding him and finding something to do until your actual boyfriend showed up. Eddie followed behind you like a shadow, eyes alight in amusement as he waited for you to finally realize it was him. You were nearly oblivious to your surroundings, bumping into people, stumbling over loose cans littering the floor. He followed behind, one hand floating to press your back lightly when you wobbled and the other pressing bodies away so you could move easier through the crowd.
When you found the front door and burst out into the cool air of the autumn night, you whirled around to give your stalker a piece of your mind only to freeze when you noticed his wiry curls and amused smirk.
"Eddie!" you breathed, voice airy and light as you tumbled towards him, arms flying to wrap around his neck. He let out a boisterous laugh, arms snaking around your midsection as he squeezed you tight, lifting you slightly from the ground.
"Hi, pretty," he breathed, face nuzzling into your neck to leave a few searing kisses. You molded into him, body relaxing and contented sigh seeping through your smiling lips.
"Eddie, what took you so long! There was this annoying creep who wouldn't leave me alone," you whined, breathing in his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes. His chuckle vibrated into your neck making chills run up your spine. You pressed in tighter, addicted to his touch.
"Did you tell him to fuck off?" he asked, playing along, smirk widening as he pulled back, finally allowing himself to brush wild pieces of hair behind your ears.
"Told him I'd fight him," you replied and he gave you a bright grin.
"Good girl," he said, pinching your cheek lightly, before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You preened at the praise, stepping on tip toes to deepen the kiss that was making your head fuzzy. He smoothed both his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs resting on the apples of your cheeks, pecking your lips a few more times for good measure before he was reluctantly pulling back.
"Let's get you home, yeah, trouble?" You nodded, eager to go anywhere with him. He took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before tugging you in the direction of his truck.
The drive to your house was filled with you animatedly recounting the party to Eddie, who listened with a soft smile on his face. There were moments where your slightly slurred speech and foggy memory made your stories hard to follow but anytime you laughed he did too, your glee contagious and endearing. He had to scold himself to pay attention to the road a few times when he felt his gaze being reeled in like sailor to a siren.
When you arrived at your home, you handed him your bag claiming your keys were somewhere in its depth. He turned the ignition off, the both of you sitting in the car as the heat slowly seeped into the chill of the night. He opened your bag and let out an incredulous laugh. At least three decks of cards were shoved into your small purse, stolen from a fair few disgruntled partygoers who probably wouldn't have suspected you as the thief in the slightest.
"You're a menace, you know that?" he commented, pushing the decks to the side so he could reach for the set of keys glinting at the bottom of the bag. You pouted at him, no clue what he was referring to. He chuckled, leaning over the inner consul to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "A cute one, but a menace."
"C'mon. Let get you inside," he said, unlocking the doors. You were nearly putting all of your weight on him as you headed to the front door of your house, body slung around him like a backpack. He had one arm wrapped around your back, pressing kisses to the top of your head every few steps, your bag looped over his shoulder.
As he fumbled with the lock, keys rattling against the metal of the doorknob, you mumbled something about your family being away when he winced at the noise he was making. And once you were inside, door shut behind you, he flicked on a few switches, lighting up the empty house. He dropped your bag and keys on the small table by the door before turning towards you.
With both arms wrapping around you, he bent slightly, his hands moving to cradle the backs of your thighs.
"Up," he commanded. You jumped, letting him hoist you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck, legs hooking his waist.
"'M, tired," you mumbled into his shoulder. His chest vibrated as he chuckled, taking cautious steps up towards the second floor.
"I bet. It's nearly two," he replied and you humphed in response. When he made it to your room, he slowly released his hold on you, letting you slide down until your feet touched the ground. You whined against him, not liking the idea of not being completely wrapped up in him.
"Need to get you ready for bed, sugar," he said, reaching around behind his neck to pry your arms away. You whined again but had little strength to resist him. He nudged you forward until the backs of your legs met your bed, causing you to reluctantly sit down, the mattress dipping slightly.
He crouched down so he could rest his weight on his knees, the carpet of your floor cushioning them. You were blinking slowly down at him like you were fighting against sleep. Hand wrapping around your ankle, he undid the laces and slipped off your sneaker, dropping it to the side. He repeated the action with your other shoe.
"I'm gonna get you something to change into, okay?" he said, pushing up from the floor. He kicked off his own shoes next to yours, pulling off his vest and then his jacket, draping them over your desk chair.
Your room was yards cleaner than his own and starkly different. Remnants of your childhood were woven together with band and movie posters, shelves of books, and colorful post-its and polaroids taped to your mirror. He spotted his face in many of them, heart warming each time he noticed yet another one of him you managed to find room for.
He headed for your dresser, pulling drawers open at random trying to find something for you to sleep in. His cheeks warmed at the drawer of underwear he yanked open, the pretty pastels and swirling lace making him swallow harshly. He wasn't here to be creepy he was here to be a doting boyfriend. He opened a few more until he found one of his shirts he thought he had misplaced. Menace, he thought.
When he turned around you had already begun slipping off your pants, kicking around until they flew off your ankles. He walked over to you as you were pulling your shirt over your head. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes trailed down the straps of your bra to the curves of your chest, heat rising on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he chided himself. Now was not the time for that. He heard you undo your bra and kept his gaze on your sleepy eyes as he handed you the black T-shirt. You slipped it on without protest.
"Alright, now to the bathroom," he said, patting the side of your bare thigh.
"But I'm tired," you groaned, wrinkling your nose at the idea of exerting more energy.
"I know, trouble, but you still have your makeup on," he said, leaning over to take your hand in his. He held his other one out and you reluctantly grabbed it, letting him pull you up. He maneuvered the both of you into the bathroom. You wobbled against him, eyes squinting shut at the harshness of the overhead light. He let go of your hands to slide them to the sides of your ribcage. Then he lifted you so you were sat on the counter besides the sink.
“Okay, sleepyhead, I need you to direct me through your night routine,” he said, rubbing his hand on the side of your neck. You looked at him through bleary eyes before looking down at the counter. An assortment of bottles and serums and tubs of cream littered the expanse of the white laminate. You blinked heavily before pointing at one.
“That’s makeup remover,” you said as a yawn over took you. He picked it up, unscrewing the top and then staring blankly at you.
“Do I . . . use my hand?” he asked innocently. You giggled softly, leaning back to rest against the wall.
“No, silly. A cotton pad,” you replied, waving your hand in the direction of the cabinet. He found them, dropping a few as he struggled with the zip lock, before pulling one out. He tipped the clear liquid from the bottle, soaking the cotton pad before turning back to you.
“Eyes shut,” he ordered, stepping closer so your legs parted for his thighs. You followed his instructions, eyes fluttering shut as he brought the pad to your face.
Eddie was nothing if not gently when it came to you. The damp cotton brushed softly over your eyelids, over your eyebrows, down your temples, trailing your jaw, over your lips, and in circles on your cheeks. He could tell you were dozing, needing to move his other hand to frame your jaw so your head wouldn’t lull to the side.
Dropping the dirtied cotton pad in the trash, he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it under the tap. It was warm when he brought it to your face, the stitched loops of the towel swirling around as he wet the skin. Dropping it down, he scanned the array of bottles until he found one clearly labelled face wash. He squeezed probably too much onto his palms before moving to massage it around your face. The gel foaming as he circulated his fingers, tender movements nearly putting you to sleep. Your eyes blinked open, finding his focused on his movements, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. A balloon of affection blossomed in your chest.
“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like cat. His movements slowed as heat rushed to his cheeks at your words.
“Well you’re my favorite person in the whole universe,” he said back, moving to rinse the face wash from his hands. He re-wet the small towel and moved to wipe your face down. You pouted at him.
“That’s not fair. I can’t go any bigger than the universe,” you grumbled, unhappy that he outdid you so quickly. He let out an endeared laugh, hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he wiped the foam from your face.
“I don’t play fair, baby. Not when it comes to professing my undying love to you,” he said making you wrinkle your nose. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips.
“I missed you tonight,” you confessed as he finished cleaning your face. He rinsed the towel in the sink before turning to look at you. Your head was resting against the wall, eyes half lidded in fatigue but glinting prettily under your lashes. He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his breath stalling for a moment at your effortless beauty.
“I always miss you when you’re not around,” you added. He moved to face you, chest coiling in unbridled affection, hands moving to cage your face in. He swiped his thumbs under your eyes, the soft skin glittering from the water.
“Wish I could be with you 24/7 but I don’t want you to get sick of me,” you continued, eyes fluttering up at him. He thought you might really kill him.
“Not even in an alternate dimension could I get sick of you. Not even in a hypothetical scenario. Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied, moving closer until your noses were almost touching. Your hands snaked around his torso, tugging him closer, bunching up the back of his shirt.
“If you’ll have me I’ll probably be up your ass until the end of time,” he added, making a peel of giggles erupt from you. His eyes squinted as he smiled, leaning in to press his lips to yours, your giggles dissolving into his affection.
“Now, no more being cute until we’re done with this,” he said after pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your swollen lips chased his to steel another, then another before he was squeezing your sides, making you squirm and laugh as he pulled away.
You leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping as he continued, grabbing your moisturizer and spinning open the cap. He repeated his gentle motions over your face, swiping softly around your eyes and smoothing any tension from your face.
“Brush,” you blinked your eyes open noticing him holding out your toothbrush, toothpaste already sitting on the bristles. Your movements were sluggish but you managed, leaning over to spit in the sink before he was handing you a cup of water to rinse.
You were both quiet for a moment. He watched as you leaned your head back, eyes shut. His hands trailed the sides of your thighs, brushing the skin, squeezing slightly, warming them and making goosebumps appear. His eyes danced around your face, taking in your peaceful features. You were breathtaking even when on the edge of sleep. He was completely enamored with you. He never thought someone could have him so enchanted that he would be taking their makeup off before bed and making sure they brushed their teeth but you had sent him one dazzling smile and he was lost in a sea of desire to take care of you for as long as he lived.
“Alright, ready for bed?” he asked, affectionately brushing his thumbs on the tops of your thighs. You nodded, slumping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. He tugged you forward, hands slinking under your thighs to pull you up into his arms.
He laid you gently on your bed, pulling the covers down so you could slip your legs in until he was moving the duvet up over you. He wandered back over to your dresser, digging back into the bottom drawer where he knew a treasure trove of his clothes was hidden, never to be seen in his closet again. He slipped off his pants and then shirt, pulling on an old Van Halen T-shirt, the ratty edges brushing against the waistline of his boxers. 
"You're staying, right?" your sleepy voice rang out from the bed. He kicked his pile of clothes to the side, knowing you were going to chide him for it tomorrow.
"Wouldn't dream of leaving," he answered, pulling off his rings, the silver clanking as he dropped them on your desk. 
He hurried to shut the lights off before he was crawling in beside you, finding your sleepy body in the dark and pulling you into him. You let out a contented sigh, warm breath tickling his neck, making him pull you in even tighter.
He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Nothing seemed to compare to finally being in your arms, breathing in the smell of your perfume and feeling the smoothness of your skin. His lips traced your hairline, leaving soft honeyed kisses around your forehead and down over your eyelids. You smiled into the darkness, tilting your face up in a silent beg for more. He kissed your nose, his eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks.
"Love you," you whispered, melting against him and his warm lips. You felt him smile against your cheek.
"Love you more," he whispered back, a kiss following his admiration.
“Love you times a million,” you added, hoping finally to win a battle of affection.
“Love you times infinity,” he replied. You let out a whine at him one-upping you yet again but he just chuckled in fondness, teeth nipping at the plumpness of your cheek until he was seeking out your lips again, to press a dozen more kisses until you inevitably fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming about him and his big brown eyes and warm kisses and how very very lucky you were.
Link to my masterlist :)
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bonewreath · 5 months
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𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 | 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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description: you’ve been getting closer to ellie lately and, unbeknownst to you, your blossoming crush is entirely reciprocated. cue your first smoke sesh together… and a little something more, too. [modern au, ellie and reader are both over 18]
warnings: weed use, oral sex, fingering. this fic is 18+, minors do not interact.
author’s note: my first ellie fic and my first fic on this blog! pls be nice :) let me know what you think <3
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The first few times you hung out with Ellie, she’d offered you a joint. It’s no secret that Ellie’s the town’s top dealer, a welcome sight at rowdy house parties, her backpack stuffed with ziplock bags of the best bud around. You’d tried weed before, had taken a puff or two from poorly-rolled blunts here and there, but you’d never particularly enjoyed it. Mostly, you’d just coughed up a lung and felt nothing but a vague lightheadedness. So when Ellie rolled up a joint the first time you’d come over to her place, offering you a drag after she’d sparked up, you’d politely declined.
Ellie had arched a brow. “You mind if I smoke? Shit - I can put it out.”
Before you’d had the chance to respond, she was already reaching for the ashtray on her nightstand, ceramic and painted to resemble an eight-ball.
“No, no, it’s fine,” you interjected, reaching out and touching her wrist almost involuntarily. You pushed down the flurry of butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the contact. God, you had to be touch-starved or something. Since when did touching someone’s arm make your heart skip a beat?
Ellie looked at you with a guarded kind of suspicion, like she didn’t believe that you were fine with her smoking. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” you said, lips curling into an encouraging smile. “I don’t mind weed, it just doesn’t do anything for me.”
“Huh.” Ellie nodded. She lifted the joint to her lips again and you glanced away, chest tightening from the sight of her lips pursing.
“If you ever wanna try again,” she paused to exhale a plume of smoke, intentionally avoiding your direction, “let me know. Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve never had someone try my weed and not like it.”
You let out an easy laugh. “Okay, we’ll have to see about that.”
Ellie was smiling at you, those green eyes twinkling like so many stars. “No pressure.”
That was months ago, when the summer heat still blazed from sunrise to sunset. It’s mid-winter now, the chill nipping at your cheeks and the end of your nose. To your agony, it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe when you touch Ellie - when she greets you with a hug and a smile at her front door, you feel like you’re paralyzed with want. And Ellie’s probably none the wiser, of course. You wonder if she’s ever noticed the way your breath hitches when she stretches out on the couch beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder while some tacky eighties film lights up the television screen. You figure she’s oblivious - she’s just being friendly. She probably doesn’t even know you like girls, anyway. Plus, she doesn’t shy away from talking about the girls she’s been with before. You’ve spent more than a few nights seething with jealousy as she recounted her latest hookup, schooling your expression into one of disinterest or even mild enthusiasm.
It’s been a while since she’s talked like that, luckily. You’re grateful you don’t have to feign excitement about Ellie’s latest conquests anymore.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Ellie interrupts your internal monologue, hands still working at the joint in her lap. She’s got a pile of ground-up weed on a rolling tray, sprinkling it into the perfectly-rolled cone like it’s muscle memory. It probably is.
“Nothing,” you blurt, cheeks warming. “Sorry, just zoned out for a second.”
“Oh, bullshit,” Ellie quips, rolling her eyes despite the smile playing at her lips. “What, you can’t tell me? I thought we were friends, cherry.”
You flush anew at the nickname. She’d picked it out for you after you’d scarfed down an entire jar of maraschino cherries one night, after Ellie had bought them for ice cream sundaes. You’d never live that down… But you’re not sure you want to, because every time the nickname leaves Ellie’s lips, you feel like you’re glowing bright red with admiration.
“We are friends!” You nudge Ellie’s shoulder with yours, rolling your eyes with that same playfulness she’d expressed. “Sorry, it’s just - it’s embarrassing.”
Ellie narrows her eyes. It’s like you can see the cogs turning in her head. “Embarrassing? What, you got a crush on some guy or something?”
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, she’s prattling on again. “Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about your crushes. Swear I won’t be weird about it.”
Oh god.
“It’s not - I’m not…” You sigh, gaze lowering to your lap, where you’re fiddling with your hands. Should you tell her? You should probably tell her.
“I like girls, you know.”
It’s quiet for so long that you need to look up at Ellie to make sure she’s still there, still listening. And she is; her eyes are glued to you, wide in disbelief.
“What?” You feel like a bug under a microscope with her looking at you like that. “Is it that hard to believe?”
Ellie shakes her head emphatically. “No, no - it’s not. I just didn’t expect that.”
She turns away to finish rolling the joint, twisting the very end of the paper until it forms a little point. “Guess you’re just full of surprises, huh, cherry?”
You bite your lip to stifle a smile, but Ellie sees it anyway.
“So who’s the lucky girl?” She asks, rummaging through her pocket until she finds her lighter. You watch Ellie spark the joint, the twisted end catching fire until the cherry starts to glow. Ellie takes a few puffs and the scent of smoke tickles your nose.
“I’d prefer not to say,” you tell her, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your nerves are off the wall; you’re so anxious that the joint in Ellie’s slender fingers is suddenly tempting.
Ellie scoffs. “Boring.”
She looks up at you as she flicks ash off the end of the joint, and when she notices you eyeing it, her brows lift.
“Want some? Will that make you spill?”
You huff a nervous laugh, toying with the ends of your hair. “No… I don’t know. Maybe?”
Ellie whoops, her free hand curling into a fist of victory. “Fuck yeah. Here, take it.”
She offers you the joint and you take it, but not without a moment or two of hesitation. You will the anxiety away with the thought that you probably won’t feel anything. Ellie watches as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale, praying you won’t cough and make a fool of yourself. Especially not with Ellie watching so intently.
By the grace of some kind of divine being, you don’t cough. Your throat tickles, and you feel emboldened to take one more hit, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You imagine your body relaxing, the knot in your stomach unwinding. You hand the joint back to Ellie and she takes a puff of her own, her lips curled into the faintest little smirk.
“So…” Ellie trails off expectantly.
“God, you’re persistent,” you groan. She just peers at you knowingly from behind a veil of smoke.
“There’s not much to tell,” you say. “I’ve had a crush on this girl for a while now, but I don’t think she feels the same.”
“Have you asked her?” Ellie prompts, flicking ash off the joint.
You shake your head. “No way.”
“Then,” Ellie pauses to take another hit, “how do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”
You should be feeling anxious with her drilling you like this - you know you should. Usually, you’d be retreating into yourself with every prodding question Ellie asks. But all you feel now is yearning; there’s an ache in your chest that only she can remedy. And, clearly, Ellie’s clueless about it.
You don’t want her to be clueless, you realize.
The words leave your lips before you can think better of them. “Do you, Ellie?”
Her brows knit together, forming a crease that you’ve memorized by now - like every other freckle and wrinkle on her face. “Huh? Do I what?”
You reach for the joint and she yields it without question.
“Do you feel the same about me?”
The weed has certainly helped with your nerves, you think, watching Ellie’s expression shift from confusion to realization. Her plush lips part, but all that comes out is a series of stammers and false sentence starts: “I—you—what?”
Fuck it, you think. You stretch out to reach the nightstand beside Ellie’s bed, leaving the joint in one of the ashtray’s notches. A steady stream of smoke ribbons upward from the fading cherry.
“Ellie,” you start, settling back into your place on the rug. You look at her to find her already staring at you, blinking. “It’s you. I have a crush on you. It’s been—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie interjects, voice softer than you’d expected.
You blink. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I guess. And you always talked about other girls, so I thought you just… Weren’t interested.”
“Cherry.” Ellie sits up on her knees so she can get closer to you, the sleeves of her oversized flannel slipping down to her forearms as she reaches out and grabs your face. Her touch is gentle but firm, insistent. You can feel the callouses on her fingers against your skin, her thumbs brushing up against your cheekbones, and the air is suddenly so thin you can hardly inhale.
“I have… I’ve had feelings for you for so long. So fucking long, cherry.” Ellie’s gaze is intense, eyes boring into you. You feel exposed, raw, alive with something electric.
You stare right back at her, frozen in her grasp.
“But you were always talking about other girls,” you say. Doubt lingers in the back of your head; this is too good to be true. Right?
“I know, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie sighs. “I thought you weren’t interested in me. Thought it was hopeless, y’know? My perfect best friend having feelings for me? Unreal.”
One of Ellie’s hands smooths over your hair; it’s something she’s done plenty of times before, but it feels different now. More intimate, with your shared confessions between you.
“Wanna know something?” Ellie asks then plows on, not really waiting for an answer, “I stopped hooking up with other girls a while ago. I just… Couldn’t.”
You nod in understanding. Your eyelids feel heavy all of the sudden, each blink heavier than the last.
“They weren’t you,” Ellie adds.
They weren’t you, her words echo in your mind.
“Ellie,” you breathe. Her face is impossibly close; you can pick out every detail of her face. Each pore, each freckle, each fleck of brown in her green eyes. You can smell the weed smoke on her breath.
“Cherry,” she responds, voice hushed just as low as yours. “Cherry. Can I kiss you?”
“God, yes,” you practically whine.
When Ellie kisses you for the first time, she tastes like relief.
Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, the pad of her thumb warm against your cheek as you lean in closer to kiss her back. It’s like time has gone still; the hum of the speaker on Ellie’s dresser fades away, as does the sound of the winter winds hissing and whooshing against the window. All you know is Ellie: her hand slipping down the length of your back to grab your hip, her mouth hot and needy against yours. It’s a desperate sort of kiss, one that you’d both been yearning for, and months of pining drain from your mouth to hers, then back again.
You’re not sure if you’d been kissing for seconds or hours when Ellie finally breaks away, gasping.
“Fuck,” she whispers. The tip of her nose brushes against your cheek, then your nose. “We should stop, before I…”
She trails off but you know exactly what she’d left unsaid. And your stomach flips in response; the mere thought of what else Ellie might do with her mouth has your cunt throbbing.
Ellie’s hand leaves your hip and it’s like she’s left a burn there - one shaped like her touch, a scathing outline on your skin.
“I don’t want to stop,” you find the courage to admit.
You’re not sure who makes the first move this time - only that you’re kissing again, swallowing Ellie’s pleased moans as your tongue prods between her lips. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming on newly discovered skin; Ellie’s hands slip beneath your tee, her palms hot against your abdomen, your hips, your lower back. When her fingers find the clasp of your bra and unfasten it, you practically shiver with anticipation, back arching into her touch.
“Whoa there,” Ellie laughs, nudging her nose against yours. You go in for another kiss, annoyed that she’d stopped, but she pulls back. “You’re sure you want this, cherry?”
“Please,” you say, taking advantage of the moment to pull your shirt over your head and set it aside. You toss your bra into the growing pile, turning back to Ellie to find her gaping at you.
“Christ,” she says, licking her lips, “you’re fucking perfect.”
She gives you one last heated kiss before her mouth moves to your jawline, then the column of your neck, where she leaves a trail of wet kisses. She sucks on a spot right on the crook of your neck, just shy of leaving a hickey, and your toes fucking curl.
Ellie only gives a low hum of approval at your reaction before she’s moving lower, lower. Her kisses cover your breasts, every inch of skin worshipped by her lips until she finally takes a peaked nipple into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl against the sensitive bud and you nearly cry from the pleasure, one hand flying up to knot into her hair and tug.
Her gaze moves up to meet yours, and your cunt tightens again at the look of unbridled desire in her eyes - her lids are heavy, too, but you can’t tell if it’s from the weed or sheer lust. Maybe both, you’re not sure, but you don’t have much time to consider it before Ellie’s moving to your other nipple, tongue laving against the taut flesh before she closes her mouth around it and sucks. A ragged moan tears from your throat and you tense, tugging again at the locks of Ellie’s hair in your fist.
She leaves your nipples flushed and sensitive, shining with saliva, and you’re suddenly very aware of the layers of clothes separating you from her. Separating the wetness of your cunt from hers, the bony curve of her hips from your needy mouth. You need those layers gone.
“Ellie,” you whine, pulling at the collar of her flannel.
“Shh, I know,” she coos, voice dripping with syrupy sweet lust. “Why don’t you get on the bed for me, hm?”
You nod and oblige, but not without stopping to slip out of your jeans. You leave your panties on because, well, they’re cute. A white lace thong with a tiny, silky pink bow just below your navel - Ellie’s eyes linger there as she stands at the edge of the bed, unbuckling her belt and stepping out of her cargos. You can feel the wet patch on your panties as you press your thighs together and watch her undress. She’s always been on the thinner side, but as she slides off her flannel and pulls her sports bra over her head, you realize that she’s much more toned than you’d imagined. Her arms flex with each movement and her abdomen is clearly taut with muscle; every inch of new skin she reveals only adds to the agonizing desire churning in your stomach.
Luckily, she seems just as eager as you are. She’s still in a pair of oversized plaid boxers when she grabs hold of your hips and yanks you toward the edge of the bed, pulling your knees apart so she can see what’s between them.
“Look at you,” she says, eyes wide at the sight of your soaked panties. “I didn’t realize you were so needy, cherry. Should’ve let me take care of you sooner.”
Her words send another gush of arousal flooding from your cunt, your stomach twisting. “‘M sorry, Ellie.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says, lowering herself onto her knees before you. Her fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties to pull them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the rug.
Her face sinks between your legs, and the first stroke of her tongue against your folds makes you shiver with relief.
“Oh my god,” you gasp. Ellie moans against your pussy, tongue splitting through your folds, spreading your wetness with every swipe and lick. Your back arches involuntarily, your toes curling in sheer pleasure.
She laps at your cunt like a woman starving, hot tongue drawing circles around your puffy clit. It’s maddening, the way she knows exactly what you need, speeding up and slowing down in accordance with your moans and sighs and whimpers. You’ve never felt so close so quickly, but you don’t want it to stop - her mouth is magic between your legs, and as you hurtle towards your orgasm, she slips a finger into your clenching hole. You nearly scream.
“Ellie,” you moan shakily, your thighs tightening on both sides of her head. “Ellie, I’m gonna…”
She just moans again, mouth working at your clit while her finger sinks in and out of your cunt. She adds another not long after and it’s hardly a stretch with how wet you are. You’re trembling with every stroke of her tongue against your clit, and soon enough, you feel yourself slipping off the edge into oblivion. Your orgasm tears through you like never before, hot and electric, every muscle tensing as Ellie finger-fucks you through every wave of pleasure. Eventually, you push the heel of your hand against her forehead, too overstimulated for her to keep sucking at your too-sensitive clit. She pulls back and sits on her heels, fingers leaving the tight grip of your cunt as she wipes her mouth with her other hand. Your slick covers her from the nose down, the shining evidence of how good she’d made you feel.
“So fucking pretty when you come,” Ellie tells you, standing up and lifting a knee onto the bed beside you. Her hair is a mess, you’d made sure of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“Think you’ve got a few more for me?” She smiles at you, wolfish and wicked, and her hand moves to grope at one of your tits.
“Mm,” you hum, reaching out for her. “Only if you have a few for me.”
When she’s close enough, you slip your hand between Ellie’s legs, your fingers brushing through sparse curls to find the heat of her folds. She’s soaked, you realize with self-satisfaction, your tongue swiping over your lower lip.
This will be fun.
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mcondance · 1 year
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come close; hobie brown
getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.
pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader
contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)
words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!
warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3
extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.
song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!
signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾
not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.
you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.
"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.
"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"
not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.
but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.
he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.
not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.
not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.
"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"
"i've done it before. i made it home."
not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.
not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.
not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.
not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.
not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.
you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.
not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”
"really? you're wild. but i get it."
"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.
"what?" you smile.
"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.
not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.
not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.
not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.
not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.
not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.
the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.
not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.
not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.
not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.
not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 
in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.
not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.
you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.
not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.
you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.
not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 
not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 
he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.
“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.
“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”
“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 
and there it is again.
not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.
and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.
“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”
“then do it.”
not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.
“how long?” you ask between kisses.
“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.
god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.
the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.
you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.
he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"
you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.
"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.
not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.
"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.
"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.
"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.
"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.
"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.
"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.
he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.
"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."
"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."
and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.
not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.
pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.
until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.
it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.
"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.
you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.
“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.
fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.
"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.
"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.
"bet you are."
you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.
"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.
"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.
"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.
not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”
"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.
"mhm?" he hums.
you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.
"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.
not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.
"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.
body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.
he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.
"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.
you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."
"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."
"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.
"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.
"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.
"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."
he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.
"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.
"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.
"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."
"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.
"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.
"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.
"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.
he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.
the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.
"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.
"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.
"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.
"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.
"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.
not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.
"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.
you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.
"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.
"wan' you to cum, hobes."
"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.
"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.
the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.
after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.
not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.
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eternalsdiary · 4 months
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#SOMETHING UNEXPECTED
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pairing: Dina x Ellie x Reader
tags: smut, fingering, MY LOVES
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Life seemed average, a repeated cycle you could never seem to get out of. Bland, overused and average.
“YN, you need to get out more! All you do is work and sleep!” Jesse complains. But how could you “get out more” if the whole world was under attack by human beings infected by fungus?
“Jesse, m’not going out tonight. I gotta patrol early tomorrow, I don’t have time f’drinking.” You scoff, closing the book you were reading and placing it in the nearby nightstand. “You’re so boring, you never do anything fun.” He rolls his eyes and exits the room.
You never enjoyed parties anyways. You always felt like an outcast to this whole group of people, you were surprised they even let you stay this damn long. You had showed up out of no where and yet they let you in after a check for infection.
The day continued like usual. Eat, Work, Sleep, Repeat, and obviously the necessities. You groan as you awake, your hair bed head a lot messier than usual. You rub your temples as you exit the hard bed that was seemingly put together from sheets and scattered pillows found around.
You somehow found yourself assigned to early patrol with Ellie and Dina. It wasn’t that you disliked them, it was that you liked them a little too much. Somehow, they distracted you from your daily routine, always pulling you somewhere you didn’t need to be, forcing you to explore things you’d never explored. But today it seemed there was a lot of tension in the area. The snow not making it any better as the freezing air made the freeze of the silence grow thicker.
Silence engulfed the whole ride, until they approached an abandoned warehouse that had a harsh smell of weed. Inside a whole farm of it, just growing like nothing. “Hey hey, I haven’t seen this shit in forever.” Ellie says picking up a jar. “Does weed expire?” She asks turning to Dina, having finally spoken a word to each other. “I guess we’ll have to find out?”
A loud bang was heard, causing you to flinch as you turned to see that the snow had trapped all three of you inside the weed smelling warehouse. “God, I did not want this.” You roll your eyes, removing the gloves you wore. “Fuck…!” You kick something nearby. “Whoa there, it’s not that big of a deal, we can just stay here until it dies down. Then we can try moving the snow.” Ellie suggests, removing her coat and settling in a nearby couch.
You watch as Dina does the same, grabbing a lighter that seemingly still worked to light the joint they’d found in the jar. “This still hits.” Dina says with a small smile, passing the joint over to Ellie. You sigh, removing your jacket and looking around to search for another exit. “Hey, why are you so quick to leave? Live a little and come smoke this with us.” Ellie says, looking at you with her low eyes as the weed seemed to already be taking effect.
“I’m good, I don’t smoke. I didn’t smoke before either.” You roll your eyes, looking around once more, seeing that there were no other ways out. “Just come and sit down. It’s like you have a stick up your ass or somethin’.” Dina says, tilting her head to look at you. You groan, stomping over to them both and settling on the couch. “Here, I think ya need it.” Ellie giggles, egging Dina to do the same.
“I said I’m good.” Dina takes the joint, “Just one time, it won’t kill ya?” She takes a drag from the joint, blowing it into your face, causing you to retract. “Fine.” You finally give in, inhaling the smoke. You cough quickly, the biting sensation in the back of your throat lingering. “Okay what the hell?” You ask, hunching over to cough. “It’s fine, happens when it’s your first time. Try again.” Ellie helps you sit up, guiding the joint to your lips.
“When you inhale, inhale it slowly. So, it doesn’t hurt as bad.” Dina says softly, placing her hand on your thigh unconsciously. You flinch slightly, inhaling the smoke, letting it drape into your lungs slowly. Blowing the smoke into the air, you feel yourself becoming a lot more relaxed. “That was better yeah?” Ellie asks, watching you as she inhaled the joint and blows the smoke into your face.
“I guess so.” You say quietly, everyone feeling the effects of the weed. It hits you harder, your head spinning softly, your eyes getting heavier, and the stir between your legs becoming a lot more prominent. “Should we have another Dina? I’m not sure she can handle two.” Ellie says, looking at your slouched appearance.
You shake your head. “I’m good, I think.” You chuckle. Ellie nods lighting another, placing it between her thin yet plump lips. You watch her, your eyes entranced by the way her lips wrap around the joint. Dina slides her hand further up your leg, catching your attention. You turn to her, a smirk dawning her lips as she tilts her head to get a better look at you.
Ellie hands the joint over once more, this time leaning over you a bit more than usual. The feeling of her skin warming you up a lot more then you already were, her perky and uncovered breasts swaying in your face. You blush softly, your face tinted slightly. The thoughts that run through your head becoming unholy, but you blame it on the weed. Dina takes a drag, inhaling slowly. Suddenly she leans into you, your lips parting as she connects her lips to yours and exhales the smoke back into your lungs.
It was random, causing you to flinch softly. “Did ya like that? Or should I stop?” She slides her hand up your thigh further, her thumb gliding over your clothed cunt softly. Ellie watches, her eyes lingering over your figure. You look at Dina, the sinful thoughts running through your head starting to take over. “I-I don’t do this. I’ve never-“ Ellie silences you, putting the bud of the joint into the couch to let it burn out.
“We got you.”
Like usual, with Ellie and Dina you were doing something you didn’t usually do. Your legs spread open as Dina licked up the slit of your wet and dripping cunt. Ellie grips her hair, guiding her to eat you out just right. Your hands gripping the side of the couch as you whine and groan Dina’s name out into existence. Her arms wrapped around your thighs to keep your legs open as you shake, throwing your head back as she hits the spot that makes you tingle just right.
“Fuhh-ck!” Your head falls back off the couch, Dina’s fingers mingling with the hardened buds underneath your shirt. “Feel good pretty?” Ellie asks softly, looking down at you. You nod, droll pooling at your lips. Dina slides her finger into your core, your back arching into her as you fuck yourself with her fingers. “Fuc- Dina! Oh good-“ You grip the couch harder, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
She eats you like it was her last meal, her eyes never leaving yours as she penetrates you with another finger. Ellie continues to guide her, hitting all the spots inside you just right. Her hands come down to your chest, running her thumb over the nipple as if she was admiring the way they bounced as you used Dina. “Yesyes.. right there!”
You grind against her face, feeling yourself become a lot needier. The high you felt earlier could never compare to this one. Her hands spreading you open just right, your eyes shut tightly. “Look at me hun.” She says softly, diving back into you as you open your eyes to look down at her. Ellie watches in awe at the way you open up to Dina’s fingers. “Oh shi- I’m gonna cum Din-“ Ellie suddenly moves Dina’s hand away.
You catch your breath, confused as to why she was depriving you. “I wanna turn too.” Dina rolls her eyes. “You could’ve at least let her cum first. I’m sure she can handle two orgasms.” You watch as they talk about you like you're not even there. “Okay then, think you can handle two pretty?” Your eyes pan to Ellie, nodding slowly as you lean back once more. “Good girl, see I told ya.” Dina says, sliding her digits back inside of you.
She decides not to start slow this time, her fingers using you quickly. “I wanna taste you c’mon.” You feel the high you were on coming back, your hands gripping her hair softly. Your eyes don’t leave her as Ellie leans back, watching the both of you as she waits patiently for her turn with you.
“C’mon hun, wanna taste your cum.” Dina speaks sinfully, causing you to fall over the edge. “Oh- cumming! Please!” You release on her fingers, back arching over the edge of the couch. Your legs shake as you orgasm like you never have before. She sucks softly on your sensitive bud, you whine softly. “Gotta take one more for Ellie, she wants a taste too hun.” Dina slaps your cunt softly.
You nod, spreading your legs once more. The adrenaline running through your body causing you to work against how sensitive you were. “Go in then you needy fuck, go get your fill of her before she changes her mind.” Dina slaps Ellie’s arm softly, wiping her face of your essence. Ellie leans in, kissing your stomach, kissing the inside of your thigh, then kissing your fold softly. “I can’t wait anymore.”
She suddenly licks, causing you to close your legs. “Ah Ah C’mon now. You keep ‘em open f’me do the same for El.” Dina spread your legs back open, leaning against Ellie. You whine, feeling sensitive as Ellie continues with her endeavor. She spreads your folds, sliding her finger inside to replace Dina’s. The length of her finger hitting a spot inside you that Dina didn’t hit before.
“Ah, wait! You- god!” You try to close your legs once more, but Dina slaps your inner thigh, holding them open. “Hey, stop it. You said you could take it so take it like a big girl.” Dina giggles, rubbing your inner thigh softly. You chant Ellie’s name, her fingers curling slighting inside you. You grip her hair, riding her face as if she were a dildo and you were a pornstar.
Dina feels her arousal pooling in her pants, sliding her hand down into her jeans as she touches herself at the sight of you. Your bottom lip I’m between your teeth as you groan, Ellie’s hair gripped in between your fingers. She enjoys the sight of it all. Ellie kissing your stomach again as she adds another finger, speeding up just enough to make you scream. “I’m- oh shit! Ellie please…!” You hold onto her wrist to keep her from moving away, riding her fingers and clenching around them.
“Gonna cum pretty, I wanna taste you as bad. S’not fair Dina got to try it first.” You whine, unable to speak. Dina throws her head back as she feels herself about to release around her own fingers. “Gonna cum together yeah? Cum with me YN.” She says breathlessly as she rides her own fingers. Ellie snickers, “ya just couldn’t wait could ya?” Diving back down to devour the essence about to release from you.
Your head spinning softly, your back arching, you ride her fingers until suddenly. You burst, cumming and squeezing around her fingers, your head falling back and your legs shaking like never before. “E-El oh Fuck! Yesyesyes!” You spread your legs more as she licks it all up, not leaving one drop of you behind. “Taste so good pretty.” She says quietly into your cunt.
Dina cums as well, her legs shaking as she slows down, circling her bud slowly. “Oh yes..” she leans back, pulling her hand out of her jeans. “Wanna taste?” She asks, leaning forward and placing her fingers into your mouth, allowing you to suck them clean. Your eyes low, the high still rippling through you.
“Let’s do this again sometime.”
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I want them both so bad...
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Princess - Lip Gallagher
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Lip Gallagher x F! Reader 18+
Summary: Tony's little sister has a crush on Lip and Lip has fallen for her even if she seems like a princess. Words: 2400 Warnings: NSFW, Dry sex / Dry humping, alcohol, marijuana
~MDNI~
Y/n was Tony Markovich's little sister and she had the world's biggest crush on Phillip Gallagher. Lip hadn't always liked the girl, he found her too shy, always hiding in the background but the last few months, bumping into her as she leaves her brothers place to then hanging out together, he found himself falling for her. Walking sunshine would be his best description of her, followed closely by princess which she complains about although she secretly loves the nickname.  
Lip was apprehensive to start anything with Tony's little sister, the man might like Fiona and by extension Lip and his family, but he was still a cop and he'd seen how scary he could be towards her boyfriend Kyle a few years back so it was no surprise she'd been single since. Y/n however was afraid Lip just wasn't into her and had been too afraid to say anything, her anxiety keeping her feelings just below the surface. It was hard though, watching him with Karen then even harder when they stopped seeing each other because now she could feasibly tell him how she feels but still the words would stick in her throat.
Tonight, she sat huddled under a picnic blanket, staring at the small crackling fire as people around the makeshift circle laughed and chatted. She glanced up when a beer bottle entered her line of sight and smiled up at Lip who was offering her the drink. "Thanks Lip, looks like it was a fight for the cooler tonight" she mused, eyeing the small group of guys that were stood around said cooler yelling at each other. "Ah, worth the fight I recon" Lip had laughed as he sat down beside her and as she tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Getting a glare from her in response, "It's not my fault I dressed for summer in summer, only for the temperature to drop like it's fall".
Lip pulled out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag of it, watching the smoke he blows back out dissipate into the air. Turning slightly, he offered it to y/n before remembering she doesn't smoke, "sorry, I always forget, you're a princess" he scoffed, lips curled into a playful smirk. He often made fun of her for it but never with the intention of forcing her into it and up until now she had never shown an interest either, never seemed bothered by the teasing. However, to his surprise he felt her fingers brush over his hand as she moved to take it from him causing Lip to raise a brow in surprise.
"Y'know I'm joking right? It's fine you don't smoke" Lip was quick to reassure her as he turned to face her properly. "Yeah, I know. You'd never make me do anything I didn't want to Lip. I want to try it, just been afraid of getting caught by Tony and he's working tonight, so" she shrugged, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "Plus, I know I'm safe with you for my first-time smoking weed so, if the offer stands?" Lip nodded, that familiar warm feeling settling in his chest which he was quick to wave off as the weed even though he knew better. He handed the joint to her, explaining how to smoke it then watching as she followed his instructions.
Y/n only held it in her lungs for a few seconds before the dry burn of her lungs had her coughing. Lip reached over, rubbing her back as he laughed at her, a shit eating grin on his face. “Cat got your lung?” Lip laughed again, only to get whacked in the chest by her hand causing him to cough. Y/n shot him daggers but her lips were quirked up, her features alight with amusement the way he loved and it made him smile and that warm feeling tighten.
It only took a few minutes for it to kick in, but when it did, y/n found herself entranced by the fire, the way it moved and the flames broke off and flicked up into the sky had her captivated. Lip however was captivated instead by her, the way her eyes watched the flames and reflected them and the little gasp when it made a particularly loud crackle. At one point y/n leant into Lip’s side, his arm moving to wrap around her while she spoke, “Does it always feel this peaceful?” Lip shook his head, squeezing her lightly, “Not always, depends on the person and how often they smoke.” Y/n made a small sound in reply before smiling up at him. “I think this is the first time in my life I actually feel calm, like I can talk without everything catching in my throat, I like it” her voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the fire.
She perked up as a new song came on, “Oh! Oh Lip, I love this song” she beamed, standing up and extending her hand to him, “dance with me?” Had it been anyone else he would’ve said no but he couldn’t, not to her and with that he placed his beer down and took her hand. Y/n wasn’t a good dancer, but her awkwardness was rather endearing to Lip as they danced to a few songs, laughing freely as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Lip smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugged her back before lifting her up and spinning her around. She giggled, holding on tighter until he set her back down. Y/n expected the anxiety to bubble up as she looked up at him but instead found only the uninhibited desire to kiss him. One hand still holding his shoulder, the other moved to his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him, catching Lip off guard entirely. It took a second for him to kiss back but once he did, he never wanted to stop. It was a simple kiss, but they could both feel more, so when she pulled back, he pouted causing her to laugh.
“Walk me home?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Lip nodded, “yeah, ‘course.” He took her hand and they headed for Tony’s house, although as they reached the foot path, the cool breeze had y/n shivering, curling into his arm. As much as he liked her being that close, he felt bad and quickly pulled away to shed his coat and wrap her in it, smiling when only her finger tips peeked through the sleeves. Taking her hand again, he was relieved when she leant back into him. As they reached the porch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling back at him, “coming?” Lip was quick to take her outstretched hand and follow her in. They walked upstairs and she pushed open one of the doors, he looked around her bedroom before looking back at her. She was kicking off her shoes and hopping onto her bed so he followed suit, coming to sit beside her, back against the wall and feet hanging off the other side of her bed while she sat facing him, legs tucked to the side.
Her fingers brushed his hand, pulling his eyes to her, “can I kiss you again?” Lip smiled, leaning forward and she was quick to meet him halfway. This time the kiss wasn’t unexpected and Lip made sure to make it a good one. His hands sat either side of her face, fingers curling into her hair as his tongue traced her bottom lip and without hesitation she opened her mouth for him, giving him complete control as she leant into him. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and Lip moved a hand to her waist, pulling her closer until she was sat, straddling his lap. The kissing only got more heated from there, Lip ran his hand on her waist under her top, loving the way she leaned into his touch. His hand moved to her back, tracing up and down her spine before returning to her waist.
Lip broke the kiss causing y/n to whine before he pressed his lips to her neck, hands moving to shove his jacket off her shoulders. She easily shrugged it off, letting the heavy fabric hit the floor as she focused on the way his teeth nipped her neck making her gasp. “Lip” her voice came out so softly it was barely audible but their proximity meant he heard her and he smiled against her throat, “Princess?” Her cheeks reddened at the teasing tone, her fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the short pieces at the back making him groan as he looked up to her. Both of his hands sat on her hips now and he gripped them tightly, pulling her forward, grinding her against the rough denim that wasn’t doing much to conceal how hard he was in that moment. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat, cheeks now a deep shade of red as she looked down at him.
“Lip, I…” her voice trailed off and Lip stopped, eyes lifting to meet hers, brows knitting together, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” She shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before glancing down, “I want to, I really do but, you should know I’m, well I’m a virgin.” Lip felt bad, the way she whispered the word ‘virgin’ sounded like she was ashamed and his hand caught the side of her face, encouraging her to look at him, “It’s okay.” Now it was his turn for his voice to trail off as he sighed, “You’re still high though, we can’t… you’re first time should be sober.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before I invited you up here, now we’re both, I’m sorry Lip!” y/n rambled, immediately afraid she’d ruined his night and was about to hop off when Lip grabbed her hip, shaking his head, “It’s okay, we can just, make-out if you want? Or not if you don’t want to.” She shifted her weight back to the centre of his lap to kiss him however the friction had them both groaning. She was quick to apologise again and Lip was just as quick to reassure her it was okay, pressing his lips to hers in hopes of returning to the make-out session.
Lip kept his hands to her back and waist, his lips on hers or the hickey he had started earlier. Y/n however was still well aware of just how turned on they both were and decided to roll her hips against him. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the desperation for some form of friction, either way, feeling Lip dig his fingers into her waist made her smile. It wasn’t until she did it a second time with a bit more force that Lip realised it was no longer an accident, he glanced up at her with a brow raised and she bit her lip, “Is this okay?” Lip was sure he should say no and stop her, he should be decent and tell her to go to bed, but his decency seemed to stop at sex. Grinding on one another though? That was fair game. So instead, he found himself pushing his hips hard up into her, watching with a smirk as she gasped.
Things devolved into desperation after that, both tipsy and high, they wanted to feel good and their hot kisses full of tongue and teeth were only adding fuel to the fires burning in them. Lip was now gripping y/n’s hips tightly, using them as leverage to drag her over his now painfully hard cock, grunting as he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck. Y/n was no better, the previous slow rolling of her hips was now faster and getting uneven like her breathing, the small whimpers and moans only pushing Lip closer to his own climax. “Fuck, princess, you sound so sweet” Lip groaned against her ear, kissing her temple then her lips. She had avoided speaking, knowing sentences weren’t going to be achievable right now but she stuttered nonetheless, “so close, Lip, so” her voice cut off with a particularly harsh thrust from Lip. “Lip, Lip please, Lip,” she whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as she chanted his name. She came moments later, body tensing as she cried out his name while Lip kept her moving as until he came too, groaning against her chest.
Y/n began to come down from her high, head resting against his shoulder as she got her breathing back to normal. Lip held her tightly still, arms now wrapped around her waist and his head leant back against the window. They stayed like that for a while, both enjoying the euphoria and comfort within one another before finally y/n leant back, cheeks red as she looked at Lip. He was quick to kiss her before leaning back to meet her eyes, “you okay?” She nodded, “yeah, I’m okay. You?” Lip nodded, kissing her cheek softly. “It’s probably really silly but god I am so tired now” she whispered causing Lip to laugh. “No, it’s not, it’s pretty normal. I should get home anyway; let you get to bed” He smiled softly at her.
Nodding, y/n slipped herself off his lap, “Yeah, plus if Tony comes home to us in bed together, I think he’d kill you.” Lip laughed nervously, hopping off the bed and grabbing his jacket, holding it in front of his crotch in hopes he could hide the dark patch they’d both made. He leant across the bed, kissing her gently but with a depth that had her head spinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow princess” Lip smirked at her before heading out. Y/n sat on her bed wondering if she just imagined it all or if it was some crazy weed induced hallucination, however as her eyes flicked across the floor, she noticed Lip’s scarf on the floor and she went a grabbed it. With the scarf in hand, she curled up under her covers, bringing the scarf up to her nose and breathing in, smiling at the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer she knew it was real and found herself falling asleep to thought of seeing Lip again tomorrow.
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a-simple-imagine · 7 months
Text
Pass Me By
Synopsis: Jordan doesn't wanna date you but no-one else can either.... based on this prompt by @poppy-metal
pairing: jordan li x fem!reader
words: 2.9k+
WARNINGS - swearing, suggestive themes, alcohol, insecurities about gender and just a hint of a toxic situationship
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It's a tranquil, cosy night under the relaxing sound of rainfall rattling against the glass windows that do not open. faint moonlight bathes the room in a divine glow. this wasn't your dorm room but a place you knew all too well. from the collection of beer bottles starting to form across their desk to the joint buds in the ashtray. a guitar sits collecting dust in the corner. you've never seen them play it or so much as acknowledge it. a skateboard balanced on the shelf for decoration more than anything. The room always has this pleasant smokey cologne lingering in the air. it was a messy room. a sort of organised chaos that was so incredibly Jordan li. but you loved it. you'd drown in the ashy mix of cologne and joint smoke if you could because it meant spending time with them. it meant they wanted you here. it meant something. you liked Jordan and they liked you. although they had trouble showing it. you have had that very awkward conversation before but now you avoid any mention of it. they explained they didn't really know what they wanted and at the time, you were fine with that but now you're not too sure. now you kind of wish you could bring it up again and have a grown-up conversation but you're much too scared to face reality. because an ounce of their affection would always be better than none of it. you would rather live in the mystery than feel completely alone.
your head relaxes against their toned, slightly sweaty, chest. fingertips gliding up and down your stomach in a slow steady rhythm. it's delicate. soothing. tickles just a little bit. you could honestly stay like this forever, relishing in their affection. they feel so warm against you. it fills you with such a content, comfortable, feeling. you have been together like this for a while now, listening to them spill secrets in your ear like you're an angsty teenager's new journal. they scribble down all their hopes and dreams; their greatest fears. garnishing the page with pretty stickers and pictures so when they look back, they can't help but smile. it's silly but it makes you feel good. it was such a uniquely intimate moment. nobody knew Jordan the way you did. they didn't allow themselves to be vulnerable too often. perhaps some misguided attempt to seem cool and mysterious. but with you they did and that must mean something, right?
"I don't know," their soft voice fills the otherwise quiet room. "it's really kinda stupid."
"you don't have to tell me," you explain, moving your head to briefly look up at them. "but I'm here if you want."
a warm silence settles over the two of you. you take it as a sign that they don't want to talk about it which is fine. you would never pressure them into talking about anything they're not comfortable with. After a moment, they speak up again. "my powers are such a big part of who I am," their voice is very quiet almost like they're scared to say it. "would I still be this way without them?"
rolling onto your stomach, you finally look up at them properly. his hair is tousled and just a little messy but pretty. no matter what, it always looked pretty. even in the dim light, you can notice the dusting of pink across their cheeks. they seemed content; relaxed. "be what way?" you wonder. jordan's hand that once danced across your skin now rests against the small of your back.
"bigender, obviously."
"I don't know," they wanted an answer you couldn't give to them. identity was such a personal thing." how did you feel when you were younger?"
"I guess it's always been a little confusing,"
"Why are you suddenly questioning it?" you wonder with a slight chuckle. imitating their action from earlier by running your fingers up and down their chest.
"dunno," they shrug. "it's just a little fucked that my powers are just one more thing for people to hate me for."
without powers, Jordan never would have gotten into Godu. and if they hadn't gotten into godu, you'd probably never have met. the world can be a cruel place full of distaste and anger but as selfish as it was, you're grateful for the opportunity to know them. "you're always gonna get people who hate supes."
"yeah, but I mean like people hate that I shift. the whole bigender thing doesn't sell- it's fucking shit." his voice is louder now; firm. "add that to the whole Asian thing and I'm screwed. everything is against me."
"Jordan," you hum softly, stopping your motion. they've always been so confident in their identity. never cared what anyone else wanted from them. it was something you admired about them, so it was almost weird watching them discuss it with such uncertainty. to question something so fundamental to them. you hardly knew anything about yourself. "do you want to know what i think?"
"i guess," he huffs out. a grumpy little guy.
"I don't think it actually matters," you urge, planting a gentle kiss against their sweaty stomach. "maybe you wouldn't have been bigender. maybe you would have. maybe your powers are just a manifestation of who you were always meant to be. at the end of the day, all that matters is who you are now." you lay your head back down against their chest. "and i think they're pretty awesome." with a gentle hum, his arms slide over to hug you against them. guess they were satisfied with that answer.
"Well thanks," he says after a moment. "now if you could just convince the rest of the world to be less transphobic or xenophobic too, that'd be more useful."
"I'll get right on that,"
"parents would be happier. the powers they wanted but none of the gender shit. just their perfect superhero son."
"you are their perfect superhero son." you grin. "you're just also their perfect superhero daughter too. their perfect superhero person."
"you think I'm perfect," he teases.
"I think you're… something."
"hot? sexy? the coolest? what?"
you chuckle. leaning down to kiss their stomach but this time you gently nip the skin. "I'm not gonna feed that massive ego of yours."
"I already know you're obsessed with me," his grasp around you tightens ever so slightly. "can hardly blame you." you smile against them. they were probably right. you wouldn't admit it. "I wish they looked at me the same way."
"fuck them."
"don't talk about my parents like that." Jordan insists. "only I can say stuff like that."
"Sorry," you respond. you can hear their heart beating in their chest. one heart. one beautiful, fucked up person. you let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sound of Jordan li. "people put expectations on us and that's fucked. just be whoever you want."
"suppose." he mumbles softly. "sorry for being pathetic- no more talking about stupid ass feelings."
"I don't mind." you really didn't. you would listen to them talk about anything. "really."
the thing about being with Jordan is that you're never really with Jordan. it is always very hot and cold. you may find yourself in their bed naked, listening to their confessions but the very next day, they would probably ignore you. you rationalise their reaction by considering it embarrassment. they get self-conscious when it comes to being vulnerable. that doesn't make you feel better in the immediate sense but does allow you to remain hopeful for the future. you often see them around campus but you don't really talk. even if you did, they prefer to act like you hardly know each other. even just a smile is too much for Jordan Li; they prefer a dirty look. occasionally they found the time to text you back but that's hardly anything to write home about. plus you're always the one to initiate the conversation unless they're after something. your friends think they're an asshole. every time you find yourself left on read or longingly stalking their social media, they'd tell you to move on. and that's how you ended up here. at some random dorm party. apparently, the best way to get over them is to find someone new. you didn't want someone new but apparently, that's not a good enough reason to stay home. it's not a bad party. it's actually pretty fun once you relax and stop checking your phone every few minutes. but you should have known that if there was a party, Jordan Li would probably be there looking as radiant and mysterious as ever. a ghost haunting you in a crowd of drunk students. they also seemed to have a way of always knowing exactly where you are. you'd keep catching sight of them when you're getting a drink or talking to someone new. you're supposed to be ignoring them but they're making it very hard.
with a red cup full of the most disgusting beer in one hand, you're sitting on a couch listening to some random guy tell you all about himself. his name was Mike. Matthew? Matthew seemed correct. you don't remember exactly. it is so loud in here. the music wasn't even good. he was handsome though.
"so that's why I decided psychology would be better." he continues to explain his shift in major which had to do with his family. it's a sweet story. he seemed like such a genuine person. "I wanna help people but not through crime-fighting plus that'll give me a chance to work with supes and regular people."
"that's cool," you nod. it came out a little sarcastic but you never meant it that way. you had such admiration for people who wanna use their powers for good. it's not like you wanted to take over the world or anything but rather you had no clue what you wanted. it reminded you of your conversation with Jordan. you have no clue who you are or what you want. "I wish I was smart enough for that. kinda feel like I'm just here at the moment."
"that's fine too like you've got loads of time," he assures you, shuffling a little closer. a hand coming to rest on your arm along the back of the couch.
"that's true," you agree. "I don't know. we'll see, I'm not too worried like it's-"
"hey," you both look up to spy a masculine Jordan Li staring back with their arms crossed over their chest. his expression was indecipherable but fuck, did he look so good. "you gonna introduce us?" why would you introduce them? jordan wasn't part of this interaction and you hardly knew the other guy. Why was Jordan even here? they haven't spoken to you in days. when you don't respond, Matthew takes the liberty of introducing himself. you did remember his name correctly. "I'm Jordan."
"I know- everyone knows. you're in the top ten dude." Matthew is a little too eager. you would think he was the one sleeping with them.
"I am, yeah. can I just borrow," they point at you. "for a sec."
"uh…"
"I'm sorry. I'll be back." as you stand, Jordan clasps your wrist and basically hauls you up and off towards the hallway. you don't bother protesting. they were stronger than you anyway. "what do you want?"
"what are you doing?" voice firm. jordan shifts to his femme form. fluffy short hair becomes an adorable bob. a much smaller frame but arguably more intimidating.
"excuse me?" your brow furrows.
"Are you stupid ?" Jordan asks, in a slightly more aggressive tone. "what are you doing?"
"what do you mean?" you had no clue what was going on right now. "I'm not doing anything."
"that dude is like all over you."
"no, he isn't. We're just talking," you argue.
a humourless laugh. "I know you're not that fucking naive,"
"Why do you even care?" you shoot back. you would hardly consider the conversation you were having the epitome of flirting. sure, there were a few lingering glances and some touching but there wasn't anything wrong with that. at least they were actually interested, unlike Jordan. "you've been ignoring me all week." a flash of surprise across their face that quickly disappears as they turn away from you.
"I've been busy."
"That's what you always say-"
"excuse me for having a life that doesn't revolve around you," Jordan fires back snappily, scowling back at you.
"why are you mad at me?"
"oh, I don't know. blatantly flirting with guys when you know I'm right there is a pretty shitty thing to do."
"I'm not flirting with anyone, we're just talking about our majors," you clarify. "and it's none of your business anyway, it's not like we're together. I can flirt with whoever I want."
"so you admit it." a scoff leaves your mouth. wait. was Jordan Li jealous right now? the same Jordan li who couldn't be bothered to so much as smile at you in the hallway was now mad that you're talking to someone else at a party? you can't help but laugh a little and when they frown in confusion, you laugh a little more.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" you ask, a playful quirk of your brow. "is the infamous Jordan Li jealous?"
"don't be an idiot," they defend, taking a step away and leaning back against the wall. you watch them carefully before following their gaze out into the sea of other people. "why would I be jealous?"
you close the distance once more; leaning in close. you hold their gaze. such soft pretty eyes hold so many secrets. "because you like me,"
"fuck off," Jordan huffs, flinching away from you. "I don't care what you do."
this whole conversation proved otherwise but okay. either way, you were done arguing over it. you were supposed to be focusing on other people not getting wrapped up in Jordan li again. "sure," you comment sarcastically. "I'm gonna get a drink and you're gonna leave me alone." you don't give them a chance to respond; simply walking away in search of a new drink. you half expect them to follow but they don't. with a fresh red cup, you decide to return to Matthew. he seems to have found somebody new to talk to. a tall guy with very distinctive feline eyes. "sorry about that." the boy looks at you, with a confused frown and then back to his friend. That was weird. "are you okay?"
"yeah," a smirk. "I just don't fuck with other people's girls. too messy." with that said, they both walk away. other people's girls? you weren't dating anyone. falling down against the couch, you search the crowd and spot a certain guy sporting a mischievous smirk. surely not. surely Jordan wasn't that much of a dick. when they catch your eye, they start walking towards you
"you look a little lonely over here."
"fuck you." you spit sharply.
"touchy." they hold their hands up in the air to feign innocence.
"you're such a fucking asshole," you grumble. sinking further down into the plush fabric of the couch. you were pissed. not over Matthew specifically. after all, you hardly knew him. but over the fact, that Jordan was so petty. you never expected them to do something as stupid as this.
"I didn't do anything " Jordan claims, a quick shrug of their shoulders. "he was just a dick."
"you told him I was your girlfriend."
"I didn't do shit," Jordan responds casually, shifting into their femme form as they fall down on the couch beside you. you sit forward ready to leave but not quite doing so. "I just decided to come talk to you since you seemed all lonely- sorry for trying to be nice."
"you don't know how to be nice."
"ouch," a playful hand slaps over the heart. "however will I go on" they chuckle, leaning back in their seat.
"fuck you."
"Will you chill out," their hands slide over your shoulders; gently pulling you back and into their awaiting embrace. "that guy was fucking dull as shit,"
"you don't even know him," you huff. no attempt to move out of their embrace; breathing in their perfume. it was surprisingly fruity. not their normal go-to.
"maybe not." Jordan answers. "but I know you." she hugs you against her chest. warm and tight. "I know your body." their hand slips down across your waist to rest upon your upper thigh. leaning in close, her breath is hot against your neck. "that dude could never fuck you as well as I do." whispered in your ear. A tingle spills down your spine. you shift against them, feeling very hot all of a sudden. "we both know it." you swallow hard. You don't know what to say. and frankly, you're worried that if you do they'll hear the tremble in your voice. you definitely don't want them to know the effect they had on you. not right now. not when you're supposed to be ignoring them. a feather-like kiss against your neck before it presses deeper. jordan sinks her teeth into your skin and your mouth falls open. a soft sigh slipping into the air.
"fuck…"
"That's what I thought," hummed against your skin before they pulled away. "so how about we stop playing games and go find somewhere quiet," they gently squeezed your thigh. "yeah?"
Jordan fucking li. they really were a piece of work. and your friends were gonna be oh so disappointed in you.
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mswritergirl02 · 2 months
Text
Pure Paranoia 
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Summary: Y/n smokes for the first time and gets too high
->Reader Advisory: This story involves themes related to marijuana use. Please proceed with caution if you are sensitive to or uncomfortable with such content.
A/N : This is my very first post ! I’m excited to see where this account goes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n sat on the edge of Riah's couch, her fingers nervously tapping against her thigh as she watched her friends pass around a joint. The sweet scent of marijuana filled the air, swirling around her like a seductive dance, tempting her to join in.
Riah noticed Y/n's hesitation and leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Come on, Y/n, don't be such a goody-two-shoes. Just one hit won't hurt."
 Zela nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. 
"Yeah, you've gotta try it at least once! It's not like you're doing anything wrong."
Y/n bit her lip, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had always been the innocent one of the group, never straying too far from her comfort zone. The thought of smoking weed for the first time sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her veins.
"I don't know, guys. I've never smoked marijuana before," Y/n admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. 
Riah rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. "You can call it weed, Y/n come on, Live a little! You're always so uptight."
Zela chimed in, her voice gentle but persuasive. "It's not a big deal, Y/n. Just take a puff and see how you feel. You might like it."
With a shaky breath, Y/n reached out and accepted the joint, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it to her lips. The smoke burned her throat, making her cough and sputter as she tried to inhale.
"Easy there, girl," Riah teased, patting her back as she handed her a soda can.
Five hits later Y/n found herself sipping on that same can, trying to calm her racing heart as the effects of the weed began to take hold.
At first, it was just a pleasant buzz, a feeling of warmth and relaxation washing over her like a gentle wave. But as the minutes ticked by, Y/n's world began to spin out of control. 
The room seemed to warp and distort around her, the colors bleeding together in a dizzying kaleidoscope of light and sound.
“Hey, have I told you about that guy I met last weekend?"
Zela's interest was piqued, and she turned to Riah with a grin. 
"No, spill the tea! What's his deal?"
Riah chuckled, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. "Well, his name is Alex, and let me tell you, he's got some serious charm. We hit it off right away."
Zela's eyes widened in excitement. "Ooh, sounds promising. What's he like?"
Riah's smile widened, her cheeks flushing with color. "He's funny, for one thing. And he's got this way of looking at you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the room."
Zela nudged Riah playfully, a teasing grin on her face. "Sounds like someone's got a crush."
Riah's cheeks grew even redder, but she couldn't suppress the grin that spread across her face. "Maybe I do. But don't tell anyone, okay? I want to see where this goes first."
Zela winked, her smile knowing. "Your secret's safe with me. Just remember to play it cool, okay? You don't want to scare him off."
Y/n tried hard to focus on the conversation swirling around her, but the words seemed to slip through her fingers like grains of sand. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she struggled to keep her composure. She felt as if every part of her body was twitching. 
How does anyone enjoy this?
"Y/n, are you okay?" Riah's voice cut through the fog of Y/n's mind, filled with concern.
Shit speak you haven’t said anything in 10 minutes
Y/n nodded, her mouth dry as cotton as she tried to form words. Taking another sip of her soda she mumbled, "I'm fine, just...just a little lightheaded."
Oh god, I feel nauseous. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Y/n's heart raced with panic as she sat in the backseat of her friend's car, the effects of the weed controlling her mind. What would she tell Harry? Would he notice? With his friends over, the thought of facing their judgment sent a shiver down her spine.
Of course, he’s going to know your high anyone in their right mind could see you’re tripping fucking balls. 
God, I wish Riah would roll up her window I’m freezing.
As they pulled up to her apartment building, Y/n plastered on a fake smile and told her friends goodbye, trying to hide the turmoil raging inside her. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. 
She dragged her now heavy feet up the stairs and pulled out her keychain trying to unlock the front door to her and Harry’s shared apartment but instead, her tangled keychain slipped from her trembling fingers and fell to the floor.
"Fuck," she cursed under her breath, pushing her now knotted hair from her face bending down to pick them up.
Why the fuck are there so many keys on this thing. I should really take some off... I don't even use half of these keys.
She finally managed to grasp the key and insert it into the lock, but her mind was so clouded with panic that she struggled to turn it.
Inside, Harry and his friends exchanged curious glances as they heard the commotion outside the door. 
Why won’t this fucking door op-
Before Harry could get up to investigate, the door swung open and Y/n stumbled inside, her hair messy and her bloodshot red eyes wide with panic.
As she entered, Harry's gaze met hers, and she saw the flicker of concern in his eyes. His raised eyebrow didn't escape her notice, sending a shiver of unease down her spine.
Act normal. Act fucking normal.
"Hey," she stammered, her voice barely audible as she tried to break the suffocating silence. She couldn’t help but feel as though all of their eyes were staring into her soul.
They know
Harry's expression softened slightly, but she could still see the worry etched into his features. "Welcome home love, you alright?," he questioned gently, his gentle british accent a soothing presence amidst the tension.
Y/n forced a smile, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Yeah, just had a bit of trouble with my keys," she mumbled, avoiding his gaze as she shuffled past him and his friends.
Harry frowned, but before he could press further, his friends' curious stares reminded him of their presence. Clearing his throat, he turned to face them with a forced grin. "Alright, lads, back to business. Who's up for another round of—"
But Y/n's voice cut through his words, her stomach growling loudly as she caught sight of the pizza box sitting on the kitchen table. Her mouth watered at the delicious aroma 
"Pizza?" she blurted out, her eyes widening with hunger as she made a beeline for the box.
Harry's friends exchanged amused glances, their lips quirking up in smirks as they watched Y/n's eager reaction. 
Harry chuckled, "Saved you a slice, pineapple ya favorite ," he said, his voice warm with affection. "Thought you might be hungry."
Y/n's eyes lit up with gratitude as she grabbed a slice, her fingers trembling slightly as she took a bite. The taste exploded on her tongue, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as she savored every delicious bite.
"Thanks, Harry," she said between bites, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she realized how crazy she must look.
Soon she didn’t care as her taste buds were sent into a frenzy of delight. It was like nothing she had ever experienced before.
Fuck I could die happy right now 
Y/n couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure as pineapple juice filled her mouth and the second the sound escaped her lips, her eyes widened in horror, realizing she had made that sound out loud. She glanced around the room, and spotted Lucas, Harry's friend, standing in the kitchen, his gaze fixed on her.
Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing with panic as she struggled to come up with an excuse.
Harry's warm laughter filled the air. "Enjoying the pizza, are we?" he teased, his voice filled with affection as he shot her a playful wink.
Lucas's voice cut through the air like a knife. "You look fucking stoned, Y/n," he exclaimed, a smirk playing on his lips.
By now y/n’s entire face was bright red with embarrassment as she averted her gaze, her heart racing with panic. Feeling the weight of Harry's curious gaze boring into her.
She rubbed her now sweaty hands on her jeans, once again struggling to find the right words to defend herself. "I-I'm fine," she insisted, her voice trembling slightly.
Just take a seat Y/n. 
Listening to her thoughts y/n made her way to take a seat, and felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as now all eyes were actually on her.
Matt's eyes widened as she sat down . Her body carrying the heavy skunk like scent everywhere she went. "Dear God, Y/n, you smell like weed," he blurted out, his voice filled with disbelief.
Y/n's heart sank as she looked up, meeting Harry's curious gaze once again. She felt herself sinking deeper into the couch as if her body was not her own and someone else was controlling it.
"Love, you do smell like weed," Harry stated softly, as he placed a hand on her thigh. To be completely honest Harry knew Y/n was high from the moment she walked in. He could tell just by the way her eyes looked back at him. Of course he’d never accuse her of it.
Say something everyone is staring at you
 She was screaming at herself to open her mouth and speak but she simply couldn’t.
Sensing something was wrong with his usually calm girlfriend Harry made an announcement, "It's getting late, I'm a little tired”, his voice breaking the tension in the room.
Oh thank god.
Y/n felt a twinge of relief as Harry and his friends began cleaning up. Not bothering to help Y/n found herself lost in a trance, staring at the video game on the screen. The vibrant colors and lifelike characters captivated her, momentarily distracting her from the chaos swirling inside her mind.
So pretty 
Y/n's thoughts of the video game were interrupted by the sound of Harry closing the door behind his departing friends. 
Just tell him for fucks sake
With a rush of adrenaline, Y/n blurted out the truth she had been trying to conceal.
"I-I'm high," she confessed, her voice wavering as she looked up at Harry, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Harry's lips curved into a knowing smirk as he met her gaze. "I'm very aware, love," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Look at you, growing up."
Y/n's heart fluttered at his teasing tone, but her panic quickly resurfaced as she struggled to explain the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.
"I-I don't know what's happening," she admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "I feel like... like I'm not in control."
“One minute I’m happy and the next I’m sucked into a deep black hole”
Harry's expression softened with understanding as he moved closer, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting embrace. "It's okay, Y/n," he murmured, his voice soothing to her frazzled nerves. "You're just having a bad trip. I've been there before."
Y/n buried her face in Harry's chest, trying to steady her racing heart. The smell of his cologne filled her nose and she felt a sense of relief wash over her, knowing that Harry was there to support her through the storm.
Harry lounged back on the couch, placing Y/n’s head in his lap. With a playful gleam in his eyes, he started telling stories of his most embarrassing high moments. Y/n leaning in, eager to hear, soon they were both laughing uncontrollably.
While drawing circles on her back Harry shared one ridiculous story after another, including the one where he thought he saw a UFO, and Y/n couldn't help but snort. Each story made her laugh harder, tears of amusement rolling down her cheeks.
"I can't believe you did that!" Y/n gasped between giggles, wiping away tears as she looked at Harry with admiration. The panic that had gripped her earlier seemed like a distant memory and a sense of peace wash over her. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the shared laughter and connection between them.
Masterlist
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youfck1nyapp3r · 4 days
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Truth or dare?. - Chris sturniolo
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Based on this along with this video
Don’t like? Don’t read.
Summary: Chris, Matt, nick, Johnnie, Jake, Tara, sam and colby, Larray, reader/y/n?. All are having a small party all together as you all get to play truth or dare 😏 but you and chris are also dating.
Paring: fem!read + dom!(?)Chris
Warnings: SMUT, alcohol (all over 21 totally), weed, frat boy Chris, oral sex, rough sex?, pet names (mama, slut, good girl, etc.), hair pulling, humiliating, etc.
A/N: smiling Chris🤭🤭 I LOVE THSES😸 NO CHEATING BTWW. Also don’t know if there’s any mistakes cuz I don’t re read🙂
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Y/ns pov
All of us sit in the living room on the couch, taking sips and shots while you and Chris smoke a blunt. You inhale the smoke feeling it in your lungs. You pass the blunt to Chris as he’s talking to Matt about how to properly inhale a joint.
“Bro you just suck in like your breathing.” Chris states as everyone is talking to each other. You sit back as your high start to kick in. You look at Chris and chuckle a tiny bit. He looks at you and smiles. Your eyes feel a bit more droopy than they did before.
Chris passes the joint to Matt and Matt inhales and chokes on it. You and Chris chuckle as he chokes. “You good Matt?” Nick asks with concern. “M’ fine” as he chokes.
A little while well.. like 2 minutes later more like, Matt starts to giggle. You and Chris look over at Matt giggling while staring at the roof. “I’m scared!” Matt screams and curls into a ball as everyone starts to stare at him. “Are you okay…?” You ask.
“FINE!” He yells back. Your eyes go wide as he shouts at you. “We should play truth or dare.” Larray speaks up. Everyone agrees to play truth or dare. “I’ll go first.” Larray says.
“Tara truth or dare?” “Dare.” Tara smirks. “I dare you and y/n to peck on the lips.” Larray says as he smirks. You look over at Chris and he look you and rolls his eyes in a joking sassy way.
Tara walks up to you and leans in giving you a small peck. Chris pulls you into his lap. “Your turn tara” Larray speaks. “Johnnie truth or dare?” “Dare” Johnnie stares at Tara.
“I dare you to kiss Jake like how you did on my birthday” Tara speaks with sas. Johnnie’s and Jake’s jaw drop. Johnnie sighs and stares at Jake and pecks him fastly. Everyone starts laughing.
Johnnie asks “Jake truth or dare?” “Truth” “is it true that your penis is a shrek ear?” Jake laughs. “Yes very much.” He says with sarcasm as everyone laughs. You dig your face into Chris’s neck. He starts to kiss you, slowly making out.
“Nick truth or dare.” Jake speaks. Nicks eyes go wide. “uh dare..” nick speaks with nervousness. “I dare you too give Matt a big hol hug” Jake speaks as he smiles knowing nick doesn’t really like big hugs.
Nick sighs and gets up and hugs Matt and Matt hugs tightly. Nick sits back down and turns towards you and Chris. “Y/n” nick smirks. “Truth or dare.” You pull back from the makeup sesh you and Chris just had. “Dare.” “I dare you to make at least 3 hickeys on Chris’s neck.” Nick speaks with a devilish stare.
You lean into Chris’s neck, kissing all around so you can find his sweet spot. He groans when you kiss a certain spot and you start sucking on his neck as Chris has his head up squeezing his eyes shut. You pull back with a pop and see a dark purple hickey start to form in.
You smirk and start to suck in another spot sliding your tongue against his neck making him groan out loud. He looks the other way at the wall where no body is. You pull back with a pop and find another spot and start to suck one last time.
You start to feel Chris grow a boner in between your thighs. You bite down a bit so it’s not enough to hurt him. You pull back with a pop and now he has three big purple hickeys on his neck. He now has very rosy cheeks.
Everyone stares with shock. We stare back with embarrassment. “uh… sam truth or dare…” you speak up. “dare…” “I dare you to try to do a perfect cartwheel” sam sighs and stands up and does a perfect cartwheel first time.
Your eyes widen with surprise. “Truth or dare colby.” Colby sighs. “Dare..” “I dare you to tell everyone here your body count if you don’t want to it give Jake a lap dance.”
“Yeah give mama bear a lap dance” Jake jokes around. Colby sighs and stands up and walks over to Jake and starts giving Jake a lap dance. “Yeahhhh!” Jake yells as everyone giggles. You turn to Chris as he whispers in your ear “y/n it hurts badly… please..” he begs “go to the bathroom and I’ll follow you.” You tell him.
He gets up and walks to the bathroom as you follow him. “Ohhh Chris is going to go bone y/n!!” Larray yells. You roll my eyes and go into the bathroom with Chris.
He closes to door and pins you against it, kissing you roughly. He tugs on your shirt signalling you to take your shirt off. You peel the shirt off your body revealing your dark blue lace bra. His eyes widen at your breasts sitting down nicely. He picks you up and sits you on the sink with the counter.
He pulls your sweat pants down revealing your dark blue lace panties “matching huh?” He smiles. He peels your panties off, seeing how wet you are. “Fuck y/n…” he groans quietly. “So fucking wet.” He groans again while making circle motions on my soaking clit.
You bite your lip to keep control of not being too loud. He burys his face in between your thighs. His tongue ficks on your clit. You let a soft moan out with biting your lip almost drawing blood. He goes more down and sticks his tongue in your hole, making his nose bump your clit each time. You let a moan go but not to loud…. You hope.
“Fuck Chris..” you moan try to moan quietly. He groans at the sound of you moaning his name. You grind your hips into his face. He starts to suck on your aching clit and sticks his two fingers in you, his middle and ring. He curls them inside of you directly hitting your g spot.
You squeal quite loud and him hitting your g spot. He slaps his hand over your mouth. He fastens his pace with his fingers making you start to squirm.he holds your thighs down. I poke my tongue at his hand letting him know I’m close.
He hums against your pussy making the knot in your stomach completely snap in half. You cum all over his mouth. He pulls back with your cum dripping off his chin, making him look like a cum zombie. “You taste good mamas.” He compliments. He kisses me and you groan at the taste of your own self in his mouth.
You get up on the sink counter and get on your knees in front of him. He undoes the string on his sweatpants and he throws his pants down with his boxers. His member slaps on his stomach. You look up at him. “You really finished from eating me out?” You say with a whisper. “shut up…”
You run your finger on the slit on his tip with all of the pre cum and cum on his dick. He groans at the feeling. You kitty lick his tip. “don’t fucking tease y/n” he says with frustration. You put your whole mouth of his erect member. You start bobbing your head up and down.
He pushes your head down making you gag along with your nose touching his pelvis. You shake your head around his dick making him groan and grab a fist full of your hair. 
He groans quite loud but not enough for everyone to hear. Probably just for Matt… he shoots his warm cum down my throat. You look up at him and stick your tongue out to show him you swallowed his load. “Good girl..” he whispers. He bends you over the sink and slides his member inside of me with ease. He thrusts inside you like you’re a fuck doll.
Our skin slapping against each other along with the whimpers and moans coming out of our mouths. The music that’s playing is canceling the noise of what’s happening. He pulls your hair back. “Fucking giving me hickeys in front of 8 fucking people huh?” He pounds your pussy like he’s never going to get to again. “Look at yourself in the mirror as your almost fucked dumb you slut.”
“Do it or I’ll stop.” He demands. You look at yourself in the mirror, your tits swinging at each thrust he does. “c-cum!” You manage to spit out. “Cum on my dick you slut.” He tells. You release your cum as it covers his dick with his balls. He continues to thrust as he cums inside your pussy, making your walls be painted white.
He start to thrust again, but this time he’s faster than he was before. “C-Chris! Chris!” You moan. He covers your mouth with his hand. Tears form in your eyes from all the pleasure. His balls slapping against your clit. He slaps your ass making a sharp sting on your ass. You squeeze your eyes shut fast.
He rubs your clit fastly. Your legs start to shake and you release your cum, covering his dick completely now. He cums his one last time. He slowly pulls out to make sure not to overstimulate you too much. He grabs a rag and wets it slowly cleaning you up. “You did so good handling my cock, baby.” He coos. You smile as him and you go to walk and your legs wobble.
“Chris…” you whine. He chuckles at you at the guys fix yourselfs and open the door exiting the bathroom and go back to the living room. He piggybacks you for you to be able to follow him.
You guys sit down exactly where you guys were before and they’re all watching YouTube. “where did you guys go?” Nick asks. “They went to the bathroom and fucked each other.” Larray responds before me and Chris could. Everyone stares at us. “did you guys actually..?” Nick stares in shock. “Try to walk y/n.” Larray smirks at me. “I want to see you walk.” Larray says again as everyone stares.
You look at Chris and he throws his hands up. You sigh and get up to try to walk and you wobble and fall over. “Fucking disgusting!” Nick yells. Chris walks over to you and helps you up and takes you to his room. He lays on the bed with you and you stare at him. “Do you think nick thinks I’m disturbing and disgusting now?” You ask Chris.
He sighs “no, he loves you he just can’t comprehend what we did.” Chris comforts.
Chris smirks. “Truth or dare?” He jokes. “Shut up!” You joke.
Truth.or.dare…?
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A/N
HELP ME.. THIS TOOK TWO HOURS TO WRITE. MY FINGERS ARE HURTING. (I’m way too dramatic.)
AND FUCK THE POLL I HAD
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bagopucks · 6 months
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N. Hischier - Wishing For Angels
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✄————————————
Nico Hischier x Fem!reader
Word Count: 1.4k
Warning(s): little bit steamy, but also really not. Just pure fluff with Nico!
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“Hey Oatie.” I bent over to pet the orange and white long haired cat. My joints ached, and my body was tired, but at least I was home. I hated night shifts. Nothing was longer than an evening at work waiting for the hours to pass by so one could close and drive home. Praying that I won’t hit an animal. Or god forbid another car. It had been pouring outside, the thunder cracking in the sky above. The moisture was exactly what New Jersey needed, after collecting so much smoke from the wildfires up north.
My mind wandered to Nico. The cat came to see me. I had to assume my boyfriend was asleep. I felt Oatie weave between my legs, chuckling softly at his purring. The whole reason Nico wanted him was because he sounded like a tiny motorbike engine when he purred. So loud.
“Oats?” I jumped at the sound of my lover’s voice, looking up from the cat to spot Nico peeking through the kitchen doorway. He certainly looked like he’d been asleep.
“Evening.” I spoke just above a whisper. Nico flashed me a smile. We crossed the floor to see each other, arms sliding around one another’s bodies, lips colliding. Oatie followed, snaking between our legs and crying for attention.
“Get lost.” Nico mumbled between passionate kisses, stepping away from the cat. I laughed quietly when Nico pulled me with him, though my voice was silenced when he pressed me into the wall. It wasn’t rough or needy. It was passionate and gentle. Delicate in a way that only Nico could be.
“Poor Oatie.” I broke from the kiss as I spoke, watching Nico’s lips purse.
“He’s fine. We cuddled all night.”
“You boys are always jealous of each other.”
“And?”
“Maybe he wants some time with me.” I tried to slip past Nico ducking beneath his arm, but the moment I got around him, he spun around and wrapped his arms around my back.
“You’ve been gone all day.” His body fell back into the wall, tugging me along as I leaned into his chest.
“That’s what Oatie says too.” I reasoned playfully, earning an unamused squeeze from Nico.
“The cat is fine.” Nico argued, dipping his head into my neck to press a few quick kisses there. I leaned my head against his shoulder opposite of the one of my own his neck rested on.
“You may have a compelling argument, Hisch.”
“Finally.” Nico groaned, leaning forward and steadying my body. He reached for my hand and turned for the bedroom.
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna lock him out of the bedroom.” I moaned in agony for our poor cat. Nico looked back at me with wide eyes. He simply couldn’t win.
“Please.” He insisted, tugging me along, and I followed to spare his mind some ease.
Nico was known to be cuddly and needy when we had time alone. Part of that youngest child in him craved the attention and love. One would think he didn’t get enough of it in his youth, but stereotypes did not apply to the Hischier siblings. They had all been loved equally. Though Nico did like to tease the two others that he was the favorite. And if the saying, ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ was true, then Nico being in America certainly made his mother the most joyous when he visited home.
I was led into the darkness of our bedroom, lit by a tall lamp in the corner. Nico had already laid out a pair of pajamas for me.
We had been known to sleep practically naked together. Something about the skin contact always felt most comfortable to us, but there were cold nights, like these, when we both wanted to hunker down in our matching plaid pants and cuddle up beneath a mountain of blankets.
And since we didn’t get many of these cold summer nights often, I knew Nico was itching for one. Judging both by the fact that he already had his set of matching pj’s on, and the fact that I could hear the familiar script to one of my favorite Christmas In July Hallmark movies playing on the tv.
Nico released my hand only to disappear from my side. I heard the door shut, and a very displeased meow from the outside of our room.
“Nico,” I scolded, beginning to turn to look at him, only to be stopped in my tracks by his swooping figure. He wrapped a red blanket around my shoulders, pulling me back into his body. My own ached for rest. I craved it even more so knowing that it would be coming soon, as opposed to the hours before when I had been at my desk, able to distract myself with work.
Oatie meowed once again.
“Nico, he’s gonna cry all night.” I opened my previously closed eyes, a sigh heaving from my chest. Nico did not release the grip he had on my hips.
“Just ignore him,” his smooth voice suggested in a pathetic but nonetheless sultry whine.
“How?” I closed my eyes again.
“We’ll just turn the movie up.” With that simple sentence, we went waddling across the floor. Myself too tired to leave his grasp, and himself too satisfied to release me. When we got to his nightstand, Nico unwrapped an arm from my waist to grab the tv remote, making quick work of increasing the volume. Not too disturbing, but loud enough to hopefully get the message across to our poor feline friend.
I hummed happily at the background soundtrack that played from the movie. I watched Nico’s dark eyes trail across my face before I closed my own once again.
“I don’t even know who you are.” The words fell in a whisper from my lips, the mediocre mid-Atlantic accent causing a smirk to form on my face.
“You prayed for an Angel.” Nico repeated the male love interest’s line’s far more perfectly than anybody ever could on the silver screen. He liked to complain about Hallmark movies, but I knew deep down he enjoyed them.
“An Angel?” I opened my eyes, wide smiles painting our faces in anticipation of the next line. “Why you’re short enough to be an elf. Are you sure you’re not an elf?” Soft giggles soon followed. Nico wrapped his arms around my shoulders, still behind me, slowly turning so his back faced the bed.
“I am not.” He feigned the offense of the actor as he sat down, and I rested in his lap.
“Are too..” I kissed his hands that rested just above my chest. Nico laid back, and I laid down on top of him, my head resting just on his collar. I tilted it upwards to get as good of a look at his face as I could, while he craned his neck downwards to look at me. “How did you hear my prayer anyway? I thought my balcony was to be private.”
“I patrol that street every night, ma’am.” Nico unwrapped an arm from me to play with my hair. “And every night I stop to listen to you, because you and I wish for the same things.”
“Angels?” I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with a feeling I didn’t know. We were merely reciting lines of a movie that held no meaning to us. About a soldier and a general’s daughter, falling madly in love. It had nothing to do with us, and yet it felt like maybe it did.
“To take us far away from here.” The actor -and Nico- finished the woman’s thought. “Let me be your Angel.”
“I couldn’t possibly.”
“We’ll go somewhere beautiful.” Nico whispered in my ear now.
“Not before Christmas. My family would be devastated.” The woman always listed her reasons as to why she couldn’t go. I always wished she would simply say yes from the get-go. Yet I loved to hear the man in the film list his ideas endlessly as if she didn’t continually refuse. Only now Nico went off script.
With beaches as far as the eye can see.
“With forests, and all the wild flowers you could pick.”
Where nobody knows our names.
“My mom misses us both.”
I’ll pick up a simple job.
“You deserve a vacation.”
We can be happy. Together.
“All I need is you.”
With you by my side.
“I want you to go with me.” I had closed my eyes again, wrapped in a warm blanket and in Nico’s embrace.
“To Switzerland?” I asked, yawning soon after.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“I’ve never been more ready.”
✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩
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cannibaled · 3 months
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my farleigh bf headcanons
i'm having some farleigh brainrot.
semi nsfw!! ☆
ass + thigh man —
starting it off strong. LOVES your ass and thighs. he likes squeezing them or slapping your butt playfully when you're out or just playing around.
cigarette + joint sharing —
def likes holding a cigarette or joint up to your lips and having you smoke from his fingers. definitely loves shotgunning.
pda —
hes not shy about showing you off. this also applies to the first point, because he'll grab your ass at random points, or he likes kissing and making out anywhere. also, he's soft... okay, he likes handholding.
music —
there's def dates where you're studying together or just relaxing and he has on music. and, let's just be frank. he definitely likes britney spears.
size difference —
he uses his bigness to his liking. he likes when you're on his lap, or lay on top of him when you sleep.
sex life —
LOVES giving you head. whether your sitting on his face or lying down, or even sitting on something because just know, he definitely likes fucking at parties, it's a thing. definitely kisses you when you finish. and trust me, he enjoys receiving too. on some days when he's especially stressed or annoyed, smokes a cigarette while you give him head.
pet names —
i feel like most people wouldn't think of him as affectionate, but i feel like he's big on pet names. 'baby' is probably his big one.
i love yous —
he's not shy. commitment is new to him, but you're his girlfriend. he loves you, and he's going to be blunt and say it. if you're not ready to say it back at that moment, it's fine. he can wait.
arguments —
he lets up because you're his girlfriend, but it's in his nature to be a tease. so, his mean streak just got... gentler when you began dating, which i'm sure caused a few arguments. but you guys like testing each other, the push and pull, the chase. to be honest, i hardly doubt he's the type to date someone who just takes it. he likes that you fight back, and put him in his place more often than not.
he's definitely a jealous type of boyfriend too, so that's also a topic for arguments as well.
hopeless —
loves texting you. does it often through class. helps you choose outfits for class, parties, dates. asks you to send pictures of your outfits throughout the week... most of the time uses outfits as a cover up because he likes seeing you.
party life —
likes doing coke from your thigh, back of your hand, collarbone, and valley between your breasts. always holds your drink for you and waits for you outside the bathroom. never lets you leave alone. if he's not with you dancing, he makes sure a mutual friend is or he's close by. likes swapping alcohol when making out.
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irisintheafterglow · 10 months
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head empty no thoughts just rengoku x ice hashira!reader
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you joined the hashira ranks shortly after he did in your late teens
you were incredibly put off by him at first as his unrelenting enthusiasm made you uneasy
you thought it was hard to read him because of how jovial he seemed all the time
but after getting to know him, you realized that there's no reading him at all; he states very plainly how he feels whenever he feels it
he also asks you how you're feeling directly and will call you out if he believes you to be lying
"hello! how are you doing today?!"
"i'm fine, how about yourself?"
"you do not seem fine! as you have not eaten today and sustenance is essential for survival!"
"it just slipped my mind, i'm okay. really-"
"i will fetch you something to eat! do not move!"
"kyojuro-"
"I SAID DO NOT MOVE!"
he fixates on getting to know you better after you're assigned to a joint mission and is fascinated by your frost breathing technique
he admires that when you're fighting, nothing else matters to you but curbstomping your opponent (not the correct language but you get what i mean)
the mission goes smoothly despite never working with him before and you find yourself a little frustrated how you naturally gravitate to him in every single room you share
it's just instinctual to be by his side, and you notice the same sentiment in his body language too
during meetings he's always next to you, even if you two don't speak
you're a little cold guarded around him but he doesn't give up and you gradually let down your walls as you work with him on more missions
he's actually really fucking funny because of how straightforward his words are
"is that man bothering you?!"
"he was just looking at me funny, let's just keep moving-"
"i will not hesitate to verbally reprimand him for disrespecting you if that is what you wish!"
"kyojuro-"
"I CAN ALSO PHYSICALLY BEAT HIM TO A PULP!"
as you start warming up to him and opening up about yourself, you find he's an incredibly good listener as much as he likes to talk
you share about your family and your techniques and your dreams for the future
being a hashira is a taxing line of work but he's stable, probably the only stable thing you have at this point
when you come back late at night from a particularly tough mission, he's waiting for you in the butterfly mansion
upon your return and taking in your exhausted body language, he softens his voice and asks to pick you up to bring you to your room
you oblige, too tired to question him, and his arms catch your knees when they give out, supporting your back while you slump into him
he gently cradles you into his chest and your head falls on his shoulder
he's warm like a fireplace in the dead of winter and smells like smoke and citrus
when he lays you on your bedroll you shiver at the sudden chill after you overwork your technique and quietly ask him to stay with you until you drift off
he stays with you until HE drifts off, baby
you wake up later in the day with your head under his chin and his arms protectively wrapped around your body
you just look at him sleep so peacefully it's the first good night of sleep he's had in months
his hair's a fucking mess all over your pillows and he's hogging the blankets but you don't mind since he's literally a furnace
when his eyes flutter open, his voice is raspy and low
"good morning, love. did you sleep alright?"
so yeah
he cares about you a lot right
and would do anything for you if you only asked
but here's the final nail in the love-struck coffin, okay?
so you're on a mission together and he's working his technique to the absolute bone
you've hit a wall with your ability and he stepped up to defend you against your wishes for him to retreat
he's dangerously close to surpassing the limit of his limits and after the demon's head is rolling across the floor, he falls to his knees
his temperature is fatally high and any longer at this temperature, his blood would boil and burst
you're there to catch him and activate one of your forms, using the frigid air generated by your breathing to cool his sweltering skin
your hands are steaming against his cheeks but all he could see is you and he never stops smiling, constantly reassuring you that you both were going to be okay
once his temperature lowers to a safe number you kiss him for the first time
or maybe he kisses you, you can't really tell who initiated it because you both leaned in at the same time
whatever, you kiss each other
afterward he gives you a fiery red promise band and you give him an ice blue one
while you're together, he says i love you about 10 times per minute and means it every single time
the man's love language is LITERALLY words of affirmation can you blame him
missions together after you become official are filled with non-stop praise
"that attack was incredible, darling!"
"you're doing great, my love. just keep fighting."
"have i already told you how much i adore you? no? well i do!"
and sometimes he's less...composed....like
"YOU ARE VERY ATTRACTIVE WHEN YOU ARE KICKING ASS!"
when you're apart, the only thing on his mind while he's fighting is you
and it always will be you, in this life and every life afterward
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hahahaha don't you love at the end of mugen train when rengoku just takes a long NAP at the BUTTERFLY MANSION and he's SAFE and everything is FINE
if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)
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hyunjinswifelol · 5 months
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study session. h.hj
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warnings: weed, getting high, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f!receive), reader wheres skirt, reader is called y/n, reader is also fem mostly, hyunjin wears rings, reader is a teachers pet, use of slut
summary: reader goes to hyunjin to study, knowing hes really smart. they end up getting high together and do interesting things.
“excuse me, do you know which dorm room is uh.. hwang hyunjins dorm?” y/n asked. the front desk lady gave her a weird look. “why do you need to know?” “hes the smartest in my class and i need tutoring lessons” she said. “hes in room 238 on floor 4. be careful, hes not really a good kind of boy” “i-.. okay thanks!” y/n ran to the elevator, trying not to drop everything, including her bag. she pressed floor 4, and hoped he was even in his room. “room 238.. where is it” she questioned herself, wondering the halls. she found it. her heart was racing. she knocked. “y/n?..” “hyunjin!! hi, can you tutor me please? the math is terrible and-“ “you want me to tutor you?” hyunjin asked, sarcastically laughing. she nodded slowly, afraid he’ll turn her down. “is it too much? are you busy? do i need to come another time-“ “no y/n youre fine. i just wasnt expecting you to come to me” hyunjin said, scratching the back of his neck. she nodded again, less worried. he was much taller than her, she just realized. he was about 5’10, and she was about 5’2. hyunjin opened his door more and let her in. “thanks.. im sorry. i didnt mean to bother you or anything” she said, slightly looking down. “hey its okay.. i understand, schools hard you know? dont worry about it” she smiled and nodded. he was really cute she thought. “do you want a drink?” he asked. “sure.. do you have sweet tea?” hyunjin nodded. “oh sorry.. you can set your stuff down on my table and ill get everything ready” hyunjin said, pulling a chair out for her. “thanks, youre really a gentleman” she said, patting his arm. he blushed. “thanks.. i try to help nice to women. i also try to be nice to you, youre the most favorite in the school you know? the teachers love you” “my parents donated a bunch of money to the school, thats the only reason they love me” “youre really kind to them, they probably like that too, respecting teachers is really important” she nodded. he poured her a glass of tea. “do you smoke?” he asked, sitting down infront of her, handing her the tea. her eyes lit up, and went wide. “do i.. smoke?” he nodded. “do you? i have some weed, we can share a joint before we study, it’ll calm your nerves. youre tense honey” she nodded. “ive never done this before hyunjin.. is it okay?” “ofcourse it is, i wouldnt harm you” hyunjin stood up and went to the kitchen. y/n followed him. he went to roll a joint. he was rolling it up and making it a cigarette type to smoke. y/n was staring at his hands the whole time. the veins, the tings, the tendons, his long fingers. she wondered what they felt like inside her. no. she cant think like that. this is her classmate, and possibly new study friend. “your rings are cool” she softly said. “oh thanks! im glad you notic- how did you notice?..” he said. “i was staring” she mumbled, slightly embarrassed. “you were staring st my hands?” he said, genuinely confused. “yeah.. i mean you have nice hands” “thanks.. are you like.. obsessed with my hands?” “no.. i was just staring cause theyre nice. your nail polish is cool too” she smiled. “thanks” he smiled back at her. “okay done. wanna hit first?” “can you?.. i dont know how to do this” she said, looking at the floor embarrassed. “its okay, dont be embarrassed.. i wouldnt expect you to know how to smoke anyways” he said. he took a big hit, then blew out. “when you take a hit, you’ve gotta inhale it, be careful, it’ll make you cough” he handed it to her. “thanks” she said. she hit it, inhaled, choked a little, then blew out. “wow.. i feel weird” “its normal, after a few more puffs youll feel like youre floating, trust me sweetheart” he said. her cheeks got red at the pet name. she never really liked pet names if she’s completely honest, but she feels warm when he calls her pet names. he took another hit, and did it like a pro. she took another hit, but coughed alot. “its okay, youll get the hang of it” hyunjin reassured her. they took turns back and fourth. after a while, y/n felt very high, and very clingy. “hyunjin.. can we watch a movie?” she asked. “arent we supposed to study?”
“fuck studying” she said. his eyes went wide. she just cussed? “i-.. sure hun, what do you wanna watch?” “romance. like.. shrek!” “thats not a romance honey” he said laughing. “dont laugh.. and yes it is” “okay then..” he took her to the living room. he sat down. she was still standing though. “you can sit down you know..” he said smiling, but slightly confused. “can you spread your legs?” she mumbled. he nodded and did so. she sat in between them. he froze completely. “can you scoot back a little? i dont wanna fall off the couch” she looked back at him smiling innocently. he nodded. he scooted back. she layed back to where her back was against his chest. he got the remote and found shrek and started playing it. she hit the joint again. “jinnie i think im getting high.. am i okay?” she said, now being serious. “its normal love, trust me you’ll be okay” she nodded. she got herself comfortable. her head was resting in ghe crook of his neck, her thighs pressed together between his, her back against his chest, and her hands on his thighs. “this is comfy” she whispered. “good. it is” he smiled. her hair smelled really good. his arms were right beside his thighs, and y/n took that as an opportunity to gran then and wrap them around her waist. he looked down at it, and smiled. “hold me” she said. “okay honey” he said, smiling brighter than ever. she held the joint up to his lips and hetook a hit. she took a hit after him. she turned around and wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist. his arms were loosly wrapped around her waist. “hi lovely” he said. she blinked a few times. then smashed her lips on his. he immediately kissed back. his arms tightened around her. she pulled away after a moment. “can we go to your room?” she shyly asked. “what are you wanting to do in there that we cant do in here?” he asked messing woth her soft hair. “can you make me feel good?” she mumbled. hyunjins pants got tight, and she felt that. she was acting so innocent but shes not at the same time, hyunjin loved it. y/n got up and waited for hyunjin to. “right down the hallway lovely” he said, and held her hand softly. she went and sat on his bed, and he closed his door. the only lightin there was a lamp. she stared at him. he stared backat her. “are you sure you want this?” she nodded. “ive never done it before but i want you to be my first hyunjin. please?” she whispered. he nodded. he wanted this as much as she did. hes fucked multiple girls, but none like her. hes always thought that y/n was special and innocent and pretty, but that innocent thought was long gone. hyunjin kissed her, and they started making out. his tounge slid in her mouth, and he bit her bottom lip- making her whine. hyunjin felt his dick get harder. he slowly pushed her down to where she was laying on her back. his hands roamed her body, and she loved it. her mind and his were all fuzzy, most likely from being stoned, but for her it was that and the feeling of his hands all over her. his hand went down to her wet pussy. he broke the kiss. “do you want me to touch you sweetheart?” he asked, teasing her. “yes please” she whined. he rubbed her clothed clit and she moaned. “lets take these panties off okay?” he said, rubbing up and down her thighs. she nodded. he slip them down to her ankles and threw them somewhere across the room. hyunjin rubbed her clit, and it felt even better with her panties off. “you like that? you like my fingers touching you?” “yes- feels s-so good” she moaned out. hyunjin pushed his middle finger in her entrance. she whined and threw her head back on the bed. “you wanna lay down love?” he asked, still fingering her. she nodded. she scooted back to where her back was slightly against the headboard. he crawled in between her legs and he was face to face with her pussy. “can i?” he asked. “please” she whispered. and just like that that, his face was burried in her pussy. his tounge going in and out of her entrance at a fast pace. y/n’s mind was fully blank, only the thought of hyunjin eating her out like a pro. she grabbed his hair.
hyunjin looked up at her. she closed her eyes and whined. hyunjin came up and kissed her, and started fingering her again- but with two fingers. “hyunjin” she moaned. “yes darling? you like it? you like taking my fingers?” he softly said, playing with her hair in his other hand. she nodded and whined. “you look so fucking pretty. a princess getting fucked in that slutty skirt.. my princess getting fucked in her slutty skirt” she moaned. she liked him calling her a slut. “im your slut?” she whispered. “yes darling youre my little slut okay? youre my princess, my slutty princess” he said, fingering her at the fastest pace possible. “hyun- your fingers” y/n moaned out. “my fingers? you like them? they making my princess feel good?” he asked kissing her forehead. “yes they feel so good-your rings they feel” she said before moaning. “they feel good dont they” he said. she nodded. “lets take this little shirt off okay?” he said, pulling her little pink crop top off. she covered her chest. “hey dont cover or be shy my love” he said slowly pulling her arms softly. “here ill take mine off so youre not alone lovely” he said removing his fingers from her pussy. “hyunjin-“ she whined, feeling empty. “i know darling, youll get what you want soon, i promise” he whispered, taking his shirt off and going back down on her again. “you taste like heaven darling” he whispered. he sucked her clit, and she almost screamed. she bucked her hips in his face, practically riding it. “hyunjin im gonna cum- please can i?” she cried. “yes love” he tounge fucked her for a minute and she came right in his mouth. he slurped her juices and came up to kiss her again. she tasted herself. “lets get this slutty skirt off hm?” he said. she nodded, and he ripped it right off. he got off the bed for a minute. he unbuckled his pants and slid them off, as well as his boxers. his cock sprung right out. her eyes went wide in fear. it looked about 9 inches. she was worried it wouldnt fit. “will it fit hyunjin?” she whispered. “yes love, dont worry okay? ill take care of you” he said, laying her down. he aligned his cock with her hole. “im gonna go in slowly okay? squeeze my hand if it hurts” he whispered. he offered his hand and she held it. he pushed in his tip. she squeezed his hand a little. “you okay darling?” he whispered, his thumb carresing her knuckles. she nodded. “you got this” he whispered. he pushed in another 3 inches. he waited a moment and pushed in a few more inches. he still had about 4 more inches to go. so, he went balls deep in her pussy. “youre tight love” he said, smiling at her. “youre big hyunie” she said, eyes welled with tears. “do you want me to move now?” he asked, holding her hand tight. she nodded. he moved about halfway out and pushed back in very slow. he repeated that for a few minutes. “hyun.. faster please” she whispered, eyes shut tight. he hummed an ‘mhm’ and picked up his pace. “shit” he whispered. he went faster now. she moaned his name a few times. “hyunjin faster-“ she said, and then he went at a rapid pace. she moaned even louder than before. “im gonna cum darling, can i cum in you?” he asked. she nodded, tears streaming from her eyes. she felt herself getting closer too. she clenched around him, and then he came. she came a few seconds after him. he layed beside her. she was panting. “you did great love” he said, still holding her hand. sweat was dripping down his neck. she lookrd over at him, and stared at the sweat. she caused that sweat. “lets get cleaned up and head to bed hm?” he said. “im staying here tonight?” she asked. hyunjin stood up and went to grab a towel. “yeah.. if you want to obviously” he said and smiling at her. “can i sleep in here?” she asked, stars in her eyes. “ofcourse lovely” he cleaned themselfs off. she put her underwear and bra on. he put some boxers amd sweatpants on. “hyunjin?” “hm?” “can i borrow a shirt?” “ofcourse, let me get you one” he said. he walked to his closet and found a white t shirt. he handed it to her and kissed her forehead. she smiled and giggled. “what?” he asked.
“you give me butterflies when you kiss my forehead” she said, looking up at him and smiling. “then ill do it more often” he cockily said. she put the shirt on and collapsed on his bed. he layed doen next to her and wrapped his arms around her waist. she rolled over and shoved her face in his chest. “you smell good” she mumbled. “do i?” “mhm” he smiled. he kissed her forehead. “goodnight darling” he said. “goodnight jinnie” “love you” “love you too” she smiled. her face was in his neck and her arms were around his neck, while his was around her waist. they both eventually fell asleep.
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thefreakandthehair · 1 year
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weaponized insomnia strikes again, my friends. I wrote this between the hours of 2am-3am so if you see errors, simply ignore. I don't even really know what this is but I just think the idea of Eddie reaching out for Steve is neat. <3
It starts innocently enough— a simple touch of his fingers to Steve’s forearm.
A ghost, a whisper of skin to skin, is all it takes to ignite a fuse that’s been destined to burn since the second Eddie held that bottle to Steve’s throat in a rundown shack. Eddie shouldn’t be surprised that that’s how their story starts, really. What had he expected? Something traditional? Laughable. No, instead, the very tips of his fingers reach for Steve’s arm from the lumpy mattress of his hospital room, surrounded by beeping monitors and sterility, and that’s all it takes. 
When he learns how to walk again, it’s Steve on the other end of the room, an encouraging smile plastered across his face and ready to grab his hands to steady him at even the slightest wobble. 
When he wakes up screaming, it’s Steve at his bedside before even the nurses. They’re ready with sedatives but Steve rubs his shoulder, traces over the scars on his collarbone to quell the phantom burning, and sure, the medications help but he keeps reaching for Steve first anyways. 
When he finally leaves the hospital, flanked by Hopper, Wayne, and Steve to shield him from ignorant townspeople who don’t get the he’s innocent memo, it’s Steve he finds himself reaching for once they’re safely in the backseat of the Hopper’s cruiser. 
It only makes sense, then, that it becomes a habit. Outside of the hospital walls, Eddie keeps reaching and Steve’s always there, reliable as a lighthouse guiding ships to shore. 
It evolves slowly as the fuse sparks, and sure, Steve’s still the one he reaches for when the anxiety sets in, like the time the old clock chimes in the library as he studies for his GED, but he finds himself with his hands on Steve for less dire reasons, too. 
Movie night? Their forearms touch from the cramped quarters of Eddie’s living room, or their thighs line against one another, or Eddie’s arm drapes over the back of the couch so his fingertips graze the soft material of Steve’s Henley. 
Smoking in the back of the van? Eddie knows that Steve can light his own joint, he’s seen him do it hundreds of times at this point, but he can’t help the urge to light it for him, letting his fingertips graze the warm skin of Steve’s knuckles in the process. 
Lugging the kids to and from the arcade? Steve makes a joke about someone’s attitude (the someone depends on the day, honestly, but Dustin’s emerged as the most frequent offender) and Eddie can’t hold himself back from nudging their shoulders together and watching Steve’s smile grow at the touch. Eddie knows he’s reaching for a reason, but he tamps it down the best he can with his metaphorical Rebooks because it’s Steve. He can’t risk losing his tether, his anchor, by fucking it up with feelings. He can ignore it. It’s fine. 
And it is, until one day, Steve reaches for him. 
The movie they’d chosen didn’t warn them before showing a brutal slasher scene and Eddie’s skin crawls at the sights and sounds of the victim being torn apart. Every scar on his body feels like it’s on fire but before he can reach, before he can grip Steve’s arm tight enough for his fingernails to leave little crescent moon marks in the summer-baked tan of his flesh, Steve’s hand is on his thigh. Warm, heavy, and grounding, Eddie stares down where their bodies connect. 
“Not really feeling this one, let’s do Ferris Bueller again?” Steve stops the VHS and sets it to rewind.
Eddie’s still staring at Steve’s hand on his thigh. Even before it was Steve, Eddie’s always been the one reaching. For friends, for comfort, for companionship. He’s reached with his hands, his heart, his words. Hellfire and Corroded Coffin are both tangible expressions of the depth of his reaching but for all of the ways he’s extended olive branches to those he felt deserving, few have reached back— and the ones who had felt nothing like Steve. Steve touches beyond something his skin, touches something buried deep, perhaps a locked chest to which his fingers hold the lone key.
“You alright?” Steve asks, turning his body slightly to face him and leaving his hand in place. 
Eddie finally tears his eyes from his thigh to meet Steve’s gaze. His eyes, green specks and all, watch him with such fondness that it makes him ache. He nods and swallows the lump in his throat. 
“Yeah, yeah I’m good. Thanks.” His voice is barely more than a whisper and Steve’s brows knit together, a little wrinkle appearing between them. 
“You sure? You look, I dunno, off. Wanna talk?” 
It's a loaded question and the facade of it’s fine that Eddie's built up over months shatters like the glass it’s made of. 
“You— I— Steve, please don’t let this fuck up our perfectly good friendship, please—” He’s sure that Steve can hear the clattering in his chest but just ignore it, opting instead to move his hand from Eddie’s thigh up to his shoulder. Soft fingers brush his hair away from his face, rub small circles into his skin over his shirt, settle there like a weighted blanket. So many soft touches, so much reaching, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do with any of it. 
“Take a breath, man. I’m here. What’s up? Was it the movie? You looked fucking tense, I probably should’ve picked up on it soone—” 
“Why? Why should you’ve picked up on it sooner?” Eddie interrupts, turning to face him with wide eyes and hope and terror. 
“Uh, because it’s you? I know your tells, Eddie. I do pay attention.” It’s almost indignant, the way Steve phrases it. I know you, I see you, duh? As if it’s not the first time in his life that’s happened. 
Eddie thinks he’s going absolutely batshit when he hears himself say, “Steve, I like you.” The fuse that’d been lit creeps down to its final thread and Eddie explodes. 
“I like you way more than I should, way more than a friend should like another friend, you know? And, and touching you the way I have been has been enough for me, really, because I’d rather have that than have nothing because those are the obvious two options and I just— fuck, I don’t know why I’m talking or saying any of this but I convinced myself it’d be fine but now you’re touching me and you’re seeing me and I don’t— I don’t know what to do with that?” Eddie stops for a breath and pushes on, talking himself in circles. 
Steve watches with the same raised eyebrows and beguiled expression he gives Robin when she rambles, except the drumming of his heart is a dead giveaway that no, this fondness in his chest is not the same. Finally, his own fuse burning out in tandem with Eddie’s, Steve lets his hand travel from its resting place on Eddie’s shoulder to trace his collarbone, the side of his neck, and landing gently against his cheek. Eddie’s mouth snaps closed mid-sentence and he glances down, trying to see his own cheek and the hand that’s thumbing beneath his cheekbone. 
Silence is a heavy blanket, wrapping them together in the warmth they’ve created on the oversized couch. 
“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?” Steve’s close enough that Eddie can smell the pizza they’d eaten for dinner and feels his breath against his skin. His lips part unconsciously and he nods, the only response he can muster. Steve gently pulls him in and presses their lips together, his other hand gliding across to grip Eddie’s waist while Eddie’s tangle themselves in the front of Steve’s shirt. It’s slow, and it’s patient, and it’s just as wonderfully soft as Eddie’s imagined the many, many times he’s let himself imagine. 
Eddie keeps reaching, and Steve reaches back.  
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sunkendreams · 4 months
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asking for some ethan landry smut ,,, I don’t care what you write but I need it! 🧎‍♀️
when the party’s over.
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➾ pairing ; ethan landry x fem!reader.
in which you meet a cute boy at a college party and decide to have a little bit of fun behind closed doors.
FORMAT: drabble — requested.
WORD COUNT: 4K.
WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), alcohol/drinking, typical college party antics, hooking up, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, virgin!ethan, making out, hair-pulling, groping, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), extreme horny antics, handjob (m!receiving), fingering, cumming together ;)), ethan has some dark/weird thoughts, cumplay, begging, dirty talk, ambiguous ending
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’m suffering from chronic ethan landry brainrot :’) he’s so cute but unhinged/deranged and I love that !!! I love my men sexy and out for blood !! I am absolutely planning on writing a part two and/or more of him, this was so fun & horny (my favorite). I hope you all enjoy! ❤️
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A homemade concoction of various alcohol stung your nose as you strolled past the kitchen, surrounded by a swarm of neon lights — vibrant shades of violet, green, and hot pink. The music blared all around you, bass booming hard enough to make your bones rattle.
Blackmore University was infamous for its chaotic parties and mixers that involved too much to drink and too many people — tonight was no exception. Halloween was right around the corner, and the party was lively with plenty of buzzed college students dressed in costumes.
The rest of your entourage had decided to be the fairies from Pixie Hollow. You hadn’t decided on a particular fairy, but you’d gotten a cute dress and trinkets to look the part. Your wings — cheap gossamer stretched over wire frames — were serviceable at best.
You came along with a group of your friends, but they scattered as soon as they walked through the door. You were left to your own devices, sipping on a hard lemonade with a sour expression. The alcohol tasted decent enough, but you were wary of getting intoxicated in unfamiliar locations.
Some radio-popular hip-hop song provided a steady ambiance as you traipsed through another hallway, narrowly avoiding a collision with a sashaying junior.
The thick, heady scent of marijuana drifted throughout the frat house, accompanied by clouds of hazy smoke. As you passed by the staircase, there was a boy slumped to one side, puffing on a bong that seemed comically large. Typical college party antics, you assumed.
As you rounded the doorway, you slammed right into a boy who seemed just as startled as you were. The drink in your hand smashed into the cardboard chest piece he was wearing, exploding onto your silvery evening dress.
“S—Shit! I’m so sorry,” He stammered, fumbling over his words as he clamored to grab a towel or a rag — anything, really. He hastily decided on a throw blanket draped over the back of a leather couch, tossing it over the puddle of spilled alcohol. “I didn’t see you.”
Before you decided to admonish him for his carelessness, you realized that it wasn’t his fault — more of a joint mistake, really. “No, it’s fine! I should’ve been looking.” You replied, crouching down to help him clean up the mess.
The front of your pretty dress was now coated in a layer of sticky booze, clinging to your chest with an uncomfortable dampness. Unfortunately, you’d left your jacket back at your dormitory, riddled with a stain that would likely stay for the duration of the party.
When you finally got a look at your obstacle, you were delighted to find that he was cute — arguably the most attractive boy in the room. “I’m really sorry about your dress. I ruined your costume.” He frowned, brows furrowing together.
You realized that he was dressed as a Knight, armor meticulously crafted of intricate cardboard cutouts and patterns. “I think we ruined each other’s costumes.” You mused, gesturing toward the splotch of alcohol all over the front of his chest.
“This is going to the dumpster once the party ends, anyway.” He confessed, letting out a soft chuckle. Admittedly, it made you laugh, nose crinkling in amusement as you cleared your throat.
“Really? I think it looks great! You put a lot of effort into it.” That was true — it was a neat costume. You found it amusing that the knight and the fairy had run into one another, as if it were ripped from the pages of some gaudy romance novel.
“Thanks,” The boy chewed at the inside of his cheek, reaching to rub at the back of his neck. “You’re supposed to be a fairy, right? I noticed the wings, and the … Dress. Before I collided with you.” He was in awe of you, truly — you were absolutely gorgeous.
Part of him thought about staking out your dorm for later, but now wasn’t the time.
A familiar wave of heat washed over you, creeping into your features as you playfully spun around. Your glittering dress and cosmetics glistened in the lower light. “The rest of my friends came as the Pixie Hollow fairies. I couldn’t really decide on one, so I made my own.”
“Yeah, well you — You look really pretty.” He swallowed the growing lump within his throat, attempting to kick away that twinge of social anxiety. It was something he struggled with — he wasn’t nearly as outgoing or charismatic as his older brother.
“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you.” Bristling from his innocuous compliment, you stepped closer, attempting to close some of the distance between the both of you. “What’s your name? I didn’t catch it.” You piped up, leaning against the doorframe.
Unable to keep from smiling, he stayed static, watching as you bridged the gap. “I’m Ethan, Ethan Landry. It’s nice to meet you.” His chest shook with a brief chuckle when you stuck out your hand for an exaggerated handshake.
“Ethan Landry,” You beamed, shaking his hand with excitable energy. After you gave him your name, the conversation only seemed to blossom from there. “It’s nice to meet you, too! What are you studying here at Blakemore?”
Ethan never had the best luck with women, especially ones as pretty as you. Not only that, but you had a whirlwind of charm to you, too. “Uh … I’m still deciding. Leaning toward film, though! What about you?” He asked, unable to keep his eyes off of you.
“I’m also in the process of deciding. I’m trying to get my basic courses out of the way before I commit to something.” You chimed, sidestepping away from the swarm of rancorous students that began to pile into the living room.
With a constant grin, you peered toward the growing crowd of students dancing in the middle of the room. A fast-paced hip-hop song began to thrum over the speakers, filling the frat house with music.
“Do you want to dance?” You asked, motioning toward the gathering in the center of the room. This was the one college party where you’d met a cute boy who seemed to take an interest — you weren’t about to squander it.
He seemed visibly hesitant, making a face that screamed ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea’. Ethan relented, deciding that taking a risk and spending more time with you would be worthwhile. “Just one. It’s getting pretty crazy in here.” He wasn’t much of a dancer, either.
“Just one!” You reaffirmed, snatching ahold of his hand as the two of you joined the mosh pit of students. Somewhere through the chaos, you ended up right against him, chest to chest, swaying and bouncing to the music. It was loud, so loud that it shook the very foundations of the building.
Ethan didn’t want to make a fool out of himself. He simply mimicked some of your movements, entranced by the way you involuntarily pressed against him, a smile on your face, drifting off to the music. You grabbed one of his hands, prompting him to twirl you around.
“So what are you doing at this party? Did you come with friends?” You asked, practically yelling at Ethan as the two of you continued to dance. It was a little awkward, but he seemed engrossed, stooping down to give you an answer.
“Yeah! I came with some friends, and my roommate. They’re around here somewhere.” Ethan replied, grabbing you and pushing you aside to avoid being smacked by flying arms and stray bodies.
As Ethan briefly looked through the crowd, he noticed Chad somewhere on the other side, cheering him on with a toothy grin. It gave him a bit of a confidence boost, no matter how small it seemed to be. You were so beautiful, jubilant and vibrant, moving with the music.
The way he looked at you was mesmerizing, the stare of a charmed, smitten boy. You were the center of gravity, the sun — bright and shining just for him. Admittedly, you weren’t oblivious, and if it weren’t for the sea of people, you might’ve been emboldened enough to kiss him.
The music began to dissipate, song trailing off into the next track. “Do you want to go somewhere else to talk?” Ethan asked, surprising you by being the first to make a move. You wondered if he really meant talking, but either way, you were happy.
“Yeah.” You nodded, reaching for his hand as he escorted you out of the dance room and toward the staircase. The two of you carefully avoided any stragglers slumped on the stairs, slipping past a gaggle of girls stumbling down from the bathroom.
Once you were upstairs, things became more hushed altogether. Even just standing on the balcony provided some relief as he ran a hand through his mop of curly hair, glancing down at you with a smile. “Is this better?” He asked, leaning against the bannister,
An amused chuckle escaped you as you nodded, tilting back against the wooden post at the top of the staircase. “Much better,” You mused, absentmindedly biting at your lower lip. “You know, if you wanted to be alone, all you had to do was ask.”
Ethan’s countenance flushed from ivory to scarlet within the blink of an eye, throat becoming dry as he attempted to come up with some viable excuse. “It’s not that, I just — Shit. This isn’t what it looks like.” He groaned, feeling your hand slip around his.
“Ethan,” You murmured, canting your head to one side. “You need to stop psyching yourself out.” Another giggle left you, enough to reassure him, put his nerves to rest as you coaxed him closer. You tugged on his hand, leading him toward a room somewhere in the back hallway.
Wordlessly, you slipped inside, realizing that this was likely someone else’s room — one that was clearly unoccupied. It was all nondescript and outfitted with the bare essentials of a dorm, lights dimmed as you shut the door behind the both of you.
Your back gently pressed against the uncomfortable wood of the door as you latched it, ensuring that no one would be barging in anytime soon. Ethan appeared both excited and bewildered, chomping at the bit to finally touch a girl. He’d been lonely for so long — and now, fantasy was becoming reality.
“Are you sure? I — What if somebody hears us or comes knocking?” Ethan asked. In all actuality, he didn’t care whatsoever. He was aching, desperate to feel you and be inside of you, if you let him. The idea of losing his virginity to a beautiful girl at a party was enticing.
Neglecting to offer an answer to his constant string of worrying, you decided to change course. “Kiss me.” You whispered, feeling a pang of molten heat hit your stomach when Ethan practically pounced on you, lips messy and inexperienced as he kissed you.
The stiff cardboard of his helmet bumped into your face, causing you to giggle. Ethan became crimson-faced, swiftly tossing it behind him onto the gray carpet. Without hesitation, he grabbed your face, kissing you again with a low groan.
Music blared from downstairs, bass able to eclipse all of the noise emerging from the guest room. Your hands moved toward his shoulders, lips tangling with his as he readjusted his grip. Ethan’s palms sank into your soft curves, clutching at your hips above the dress.
“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Ethan mumbled, peering at you through his lashes. “I want to learn, though.” He wasn’t clueless — he’d watched things online before and indulged in the company of his right hand on multiple occasions.
Gentle laughter escaped you, accompanied by a twinge of understanding. “I don’t know if I wanna go all the way in the guest room of a frat house,” You mused, fingers shifting to rake through his hair. “It’s okay, Ethan. I’m not worried about it.”
Ethan relaxed, visibly reassured by your words before you tapped a nail against the cardboard cutout framing his chest. He got the hint, happy to be rid of the ridiculous costume. He didn’t care very much for it — you, on the other hand, looked ethereal.
Instead of you steering him around, he took ahold of your hands, coaxing you toward the unmade mattress. He had a vivid idea of what he wanted to do to you. Ethan watched with wide, desirous eyes as you sat down, flesh crawling with heat when he stood between your legs.
To your complete delight, Ethan sank down onto his knees, all six feet and two inches of him, hands gently caressing your legs. “You’ll tell me if I’m not doing something right, yeah?” He prompted, sucking in a sharp breath when you kissed him.
He was tall, and you didn’t have to stoop very much at all to reach him, feeling his fingertips tease the hem of your dress. Your fingers scraped against the nape of his neck, pushing themselves throughout his mop of curly hair. The soft groan that escaped him made your heart flutter.
“I’ll tell you.” You murmured, watching as he sheepishly tilted inward for another kiss. Ethan’s hands began to creep underneath your dress at a snail’s pace, exploring every inch of you. You felt velveteen beneath his fingertips, like a fine silk.
“Can I take your dress off?” Ethan murmured, peering at you through thick eyelashes. His breath hitched within his throat as you reached toward your back, unzipping the shimmering garment.
You neglected to shimmy out of the snug fabric, letting it pool around your chest, instead. “All yours.” Your hand dipped toward the silvery straps around your ankles as you stepped out of your heels.
Ethan swallowed the lump of excitement that coalesced within the back of his throat, hands curling into the hem of your dress. Sluggishly, he began to coax the fabric down, mesmerized by the way you lifted your hips, wordlessly assisting him.
The thin straps of your lace brassiere clung to your chest, accompanied by a matching pair of panties. Ethan’s sigh was shaky, quivering with a tremor of delight as he grabbed your thighs, body pushing them apart.
“You’re so beautiful.” A low, throaty groan escaped him, lips agape as he pressed a kiss against your thigh. Even your smell was intoxicating, swarming his senses like a heady tidal wave. He didn’t know where to start, but he had an idea of what he wanted.
Swallowing his bout of nervousness, Ethan continued to kiss along your leg, feeling your fingers curl into his hair. The little tugs and motions you made only served to make his heart beat faster, goosebumps coalescing along his spine. His hands curled into the waistband of your panties, inching them down your legs.
You squirmed, chest fluttering with warmth as he looked to you for consent, skin flush with scarlet. “Please, Ethan.” Your hips jolted forward, aching for his mouth, fingers — anything that he was willing to give you. “Please keep going.”
Ethan loved that — he loved hearing you beg.
He wondered what it’d be like to make you cry, perhaps toy with you, knife in-hand, make you writhe. Some sinister part of him wanted to hear you say it again, and without thinking, his mouth moved before he could comprehend anything else.
“Say it again,” Ethan urged, chest rising and falling with soft pants as he clutched at your legs. The doe-eyed expression on your countenance only added fuel to the now-raging fire, and he watched with silent glee as you let out a soft whine. “Please.”
“Ethan, please,” Without hesitation, you pleaded with him, desperate for friction — for any shred of it. Your voice rose an octave, bleeding heat from between your legs. “Please, please,” You moaned, watching the way his pupils expanded with lust. “I want you — want your mouth.”
Despite his inexperience, Ethan was prepared to follow basic instinct, palms smoothing themselves along your thighs until he held your hips. His head dipped between your thighs, tongue sluggishly swiping along your cunt, familiarizing himself with your taste.
Your back arched, stomach swirling with an excitable heat as he took his time. There was something exploratory in-nature, a desire to savor you. His cock strained against the front of his jeans when your nails gently raked themselves over his dark curls.
He shuddered with delight, ministrations lacking any haste. Ethan went slow, almost painfully so, tongue dutifully lapping at your cunt as he kneaded into your hips. The sounds that escaped you were divine — intoxicating, really.
The bass of the music thundered underneath the both of you, and any footsteps that reverberated close by were met with indifference. He was buried between your legs, lips caressing your core as he traced along your slit. Your hips jolted forward, desperate for any scrap of friction he provided.
“Ethan,” You moaned, pleasantly surprised by how eager he was. A surge of molten heat coalesced within the pit of your stomach, churning with excitement and desire. You gingerly tugged at his curls, feeling his tongue sweep over your clit. “A—Ah! Right there!”
He paused, mouth clamoring to find that sweet spot of yours, feeling you steer him in the right direction. He lapped at your clit, cock throbbing with an urgency when you whimpered. Ethan hunched forward, gently placing one of your legs on his shoulder.
Ethan felt a newfound rush of confidence, skin hot and visage flushed as he ate you out, increasing his pace and intensity. It became somewhat sloppy, a mess of tongue and desperation, aroused by the noises that escaped you and the constant pressure of your hand in his hair.
What he wouldn’t give to watch you by yourself — a picture for later, or touching you while you slept. The thought of you beneath him, begging for more, tears in your eyes — he groaned, cock straining against the front of his jeans.
His heart hammered erratically, mirroring your own galloping heartbeat as he kissed your clit, tongue messily lapping wherever he could. You squirmed again whenever he touched that sensitive clutch of nerves, slumping backwards onto the mattress.
“Fuck, you’re addicting,” Ethan groaned, and that was enough to get you to whimper. You’d never been called that before, and the way he half-whined the words himself made your hips buck forward. “So pretty.” He whispered, nearly in disbelief as he lapped at your clit.
Your stomach sloshed with molten heat, lips agape as another moan tore past your mouth. He was working wonders, nails digging into your haunch, causing goosebumps to prickle along your thighs. “I want you to use your hand.” You sighed.
Ethan knew that he wouldn’t last long himself watching you, and when you sat up, he was scarlet-faced and visibly pained. “I—I’m sorry.” It was as if his confidence had shattered completely. He was a little embarrassed about how hard he’d gotten from this, but you seemed understanding.
“Come here,” You gestured toward the empty spot next to you, and Ethan quickly sat down. Without hesitation, your hands flew to his belt, unzipping his jeans as you reached into his boxers. “Together.”
His breath hitched within his throat as he ushered you into his lap, hovering above one of his thighs. Ethan kissed you, swallowing your needy moan in the process — you could taste yourself, the lewdness of it all. He didn’t need any guidance as he slid two fingers against your slick cunt.
It was instantaneous — the both of you were catching fire, succumbing to basic instinct and desire. You began to steadily stroke along his cock, thumb caressing the tip of his erection, oozing with precum. Ethan gasped, hips stuttering as he bucked into your palm.
Your body rolled into his hand, digits sluggishly seeking your entrance. You guided him there, noticing the way his gaze had flickered from your face to your body. You whimpered when he sank his fingers into your tight heat, pistoning in and out.
A string of saliva connected your swollen lips to his, but Ethan didn’t stop kissing you. They turned from gentle and exploratory to rough and wanton, tongue briefly tangling with yours.
Between the dimly-lit, sienna glow of the room and the thrum of the bass downstairs, you were lost in his touch, floating away into the blissful taste of his mouth. He was all around you and in your blood, like the surging of the music.
You didn’t stop whatsoever, palm slick with his precum as you pumped along the length of his cock, mesmerized by that glazed, lovestruck look in his eyes. You were wonderfully naive, oblivious to the hungering darkness and obsession that rested within Ethan’s pretty stare.
“I want you.” Ethan’s voice reverberated in between strings of heated kisses, sending a wave of heat all throughout your body. There was a stark juxtaposition between the meek, inexperienced boy and the darker, deeper tone he had just now.
You felt his desire seep into your very bones, rocking atop his thigh as his digits continued to piston in and out. Ethan was content to finger-fuck you into your orgasm, thumb seeking to toy with your clit. It caused you to gasp and shiver with delight, feeling his teeth momentarily catch your lower lip.
A soft, simpering whine left you, one hand digging into the nape of his neck as the other stroked along his cock. The intensity only continued to mount, rising like the swell of a tide. Ethan’s hips began to stutter as he let out a groan of his own, cumming into your palm.
It was messy, hot and sticky in glistening tendrils across your thigh, and you were right behind him. As you sank forward, he curled his fingers just slightly, sending you into the white-hot explosion of your release. There was a newfound spot on his jeans from where you’d been moments prior.
“Shit,” He huffed, somewhat abashed about making such a mess. His curls were disheveled, flesh shimmering with perspiration, face noticeably flushed. “Ah … Sorry.” Admittedly, Ethan loved the sight of you like this, stained with his seed, but he didn’t want to scare you off.
As you recuperated, you reached for your dress, unable to bite back the smitten smile on your features. “It’s okay,” You giggled. “I thought it was hot.” You confessed, using the spare t-shirt in your purse to clean yourself up. Something to throw in the washer, later.
Ethan blushed, clamoring to zip his jeans up as you shimmied back into your panties and dress. He noticed you struggling with the zipper towards the small of your back. “You need some help?” He asked, voice unusually soft as he stepped closer.
“Thank you,” The gesture was sweet, something that you didn’t expect. Regardless, you let him zip you back up, noticing the way he’d simply lingered close by as you buckled your heels around your ankles. “I should get going. I’m sure my friends are wondering where I am.”
“Wait,” Ethan’s hands involuntarily flew toward your hips, gently pulling you close. “I want to see you again.” Even if he had duplicitous methods of getting your phone number, he wanted this to be organic.
“Okay,” Despite having a hookup in the empty room of a frat house, you did want to see him again, too. He was painfully sweet — and that was hard to come by. “I want to see you again, too. Here.”
You wrote your number down on the cardboard chest-plate of his knight costume. He said he left his phone back at the dormitory — and you came prepared with the half-dried ink pen wasting away in the bottom of your purse.
By the time you and Ethan made it back out to the party, he was being hauled away by his friends, and you had found your group again.
If he had it his way, the next time you’d see him, you’d be at the end of his knife.
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