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#sorry for getting this so late idk how i missed it
jwsverse · 2 days
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𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 timestamp 03:09
pairing ⁝ jake x f!reader
synopsis ⁝ in which jake tells the boys all about his crush on you, and he's way too downbad
genre ⁝ fluff!!! , reader is implied to be "cold", jake is in luv and the boys are real goofs, oh reader os also said to have bunny teeth (sawry if you guys dh it cause i do so im sorry for being self indulgent 😥)
word count ⁝ 0.8k
author's note ⁝ ummmm idk what this is but i wanted to make tbis like black cat x golden retriever typa shii... kinda wanna write a long fic for this icl!' also fhis is NAWTTT proofread
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“you like who?!”
jake stumbles back a bit at the loudness of jake's voice. he chuckles awkwardly, glancing around at the boys who are now gathered around him. even heeseung, who was about to make his leave for his next class, turns around with wide eyes.
“uh, i like y/n?” jake scratches the back of his neck shyly, flushing under the eyes of his friends as well as from his confession, “what's wrong?”
jay jumps from his seat, leaning across with his palms flat om the table as he hurriedly says, “but why? i mean like how? what about y/n? why her?”
jake is a little confused, and it's clear, so sunoo quickly clarifies, “there's nothing wrong with y/n! she's our friend and we love her!” then a pause, and his face scrunches up as he hesitates, “but it's just... you know, y/n. she's not the most cheerful nor is she the friendliest! and you've known her the shortest among us! so you know, we're just shocked.” sunoo ends his ramble with a stiff tilt of his head as he leans back into his seat.
“oh,” jake utters out quietly, flushing red, “but y/n's great. she's not very cheerful or friendly. but she cares a lot! especially for you guys!” he defends.
he doesn't quite understand what the guys are trying to say here. he knows that amongst all of them, he's known you the shortest, considering he joined the friend group late after transferring here. but, feelings don't need explanation, right? there's no reason for liking someone, it's a ‘just because’ kind of thing.
“and she's super pretty! especially when she smiles and laughs, which i know is rare, but she only ever does it around you guys, you know? she hates it but, when her bunny teeth shows it's the cutest thing and i think that makes her so unique. and she may seem cold, but i think she really cares for you guys! like whenever we go to parties, she doesn't drink cause she know you guys would get drunk, so someone has to take care of you guys.” jake rambles. he takes a deep breath, only then noticing the boys' wide eyes all staring at him.
“what?”
sunghoon, who has been silent all this while, shakes his head, gesturing for jake to go on.
“y/n's... well she doesn't show it. but she's actually really sensitive. every time you guys tease her, she may flick you off but deep down, she does get hurt! i mean you can just tell by the way her eyes shift downwards and she goes quiet for awhile.” jake frowns at a fresh memory from just last week when the boys joked about you rejecting a boy who confessed to you too coldly, and you had looked hurt for a second, before masking it up into annoyance.
“she hates it when people see her blush, but when she does, her cheeks don't turn pink, her neck does. and she always tucks her hair back when she's nervous and she'll never make eye contact with you! she's always the happiest when she's with us, and you'll miss her subtle smile if you don't pay attention. her eyes always go brighter and her way of showing care and love is by rolling her eyes and being childish.”
“i like y/n. i really do, i know i've known her the shortest and there are still many things i need to know and understand about her, but i just want you guys to know i'm really sincere about her.”
jake has to take a deep breath once he's finished. his face is red, and his mouth is dry from all the rambling. even so, he wants to go on, and he intends to, until heeseung cuts in, with his palm in his face, stopping him.
“okay that's enough. we get it jake, we trust you.” heeseung utters out with a smirk, finding the flush on his friend's cheeks awfully funny and cute. “we know you're a good guy and we think you'll be good for y/n! let's just take this slowly, okay? let's discuss after class.”
heeseung grabs his bag and heads for the door, turning back to jake as he winks, “don't worry, we won't tell y/n.” he twists the door knob and immediately halts.
right behind the door, stands you with wide eyes in shock and your hand about to knock. the heat is evident in your neck as you glance from heeseung to jake then you look away immediately.
“i...” your throat dries up as you snap out of it and tuck your hair behind your ear in a hurry, “i just wanted to grab my book.” then without looking at any of them, you cover up the side of your neck, sneak pass heeseung to grab your belongings and you run out of the room.
sunoo chuckles awkwardly, “well... at least you got her behavior on point.”
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© jwsverse
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lexithwrites · 3 days
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Please more sugardaddy moonwater hcs. Pls!!
this might get long sorry (but this is kinda what i wanna write next so pls give me feedback) xoxo
they met through a sugar daddy website that james showed to remus one night (he's on it and is absolutely not telling him that he's met a guy)
remus is so embarrassed at first, he was on tinder like twice and had bad dates because of it so he isn't exactly confident this will work but he does get a lot of attention
he gets messages from kinda old guys, and a few older women, that are either way too pushy with what they want in return for an 'allowance' or just kinda creepy and he almost deletes it
then he gets a message off of someone young, maybe his age, and he's gorgeous
remus is so sure its a scam, no one can look that good and be on an app like this but he messages them anyway when they say hi first, and he asks about them and the guy is regulus arcturus black (he gives his full name, he's a loser) and he's literally just looking for company and someone to spend money on, nothing in return, he doesn't need it
remus is kinda shook because like what?? how is this guy lonely he must have friends but turns out regulus just has rich friends that can buy their own things, he doesn't have anyone to spend time with other than when he goes to family events which he hates
and remus is like okay,,,,maybe drinks first and regulus sends him the location of probably the nicest bar in london and remus is close to passing out because he cannot afford this at all but he said he'd go
he wears his nicest outfit (its a brown jumper and some nice trousers and his converse, he cant afford anything else rn because his cat started a hunger strike against the food he's had for a year and remus had to upgrade, kids eh?)
regulus is already there because he is never a minute late, and checking his rolex thinking he's been stood up but remus runs in like 'hi im so sorry i missed the train hi' and regulus is in love already, just straight up his heart starts hammering in his chest because not only is remus gorgeous in a weird, dorky way but he's just...he's adorable
regulus is calm tho, think levi ackerman levels of expression, he just kinda sits there arms folded and asks remus questions about his life and what he would like as an allowance and remus is just,,,confused?
he asks why regulus wants to spend his money on him and regulus insists he's bored (he's so fucking lonely and wants someone around him to dote on) and just needs a date to events as his parents are giving him shit for being single at 26
remus is unsure but decides fuck it, james can probably throw hands if regulus tried anything, and they agree to attend some gala together for regulus' family and remus says he'll have to get new clothes and regulus then sets up a date the next day to buy him an outfit and its a lil montage of regulus giving remus clothes to try its very cute
and is remus confused and guilt ridden for this man spending money on him? yeah, duh, but also he doesn't have to pay his bills anymore, he has amazing clothes, his stress levels are so fucking low than before, and he likes regulus....he really really likes him
and regulus is getting what he wants, but also he has remus lupin as eye candy and that's an added bonus, and god remus is so adorable and nerdy and he wants to climb him like a tree
also yes remus sees james at the event and he's like what the fuck are you doing here and turns out james is with HIS sugar daddy, aka regulus' brother and its a whole ordeal
and maybe one night regulus invites remus to stay with him for the night because its too late to get the train and he doesn't really want to let remus go and maybe they drink wine and maybe they touch just to see what its like and maybe MAYBE they kiss and make out and fuck slow and deep and then AND THEN—
i might write more if people like this idk,,,,
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madelynraemunson · 1 day
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HEY MADDY, WHAT’S ON TV? 📺
𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 (…𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬) part 1/2
🥡 steddie x freaky friday fanfiction • RATED: NC-17 🥡
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SUMMARY: Dustin’s science experiment goes horribly wrong and his two ‘bickering besties’ have to suffer the consequences.
WORD COUNT: 11.4k words
CONTENTS CONTAIN: (EASTER) EGGS, WHEAT, METAL, PARALLELISMS, A PINCH OF COMEDY, ANGST, AND LOTS OF SWEARING
ALLERGENS: CHEESY, CORN(Y), SHELLFISH (sorry eddie)
author's note: might put this on ao3 idk this one's a big boi.... hey y'all! i’m a little late to the steddie body swap train, but have arrived nonetheless! also i’m so stoked that jamie lee curtis and lindsay lohan are currently working on a freaky friday 2!! one of my fave childhood movies and i can’t believe we’re getting a parte dos :,) also, jake alan = corroded coffin in this AU
🥠
“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”
“What did you do to MINE?!”
Perhaps a rewind is necessary. Metaphorically, of course. Time travel’s not real! ;)
      ◄ ◄ ◄  R E W I N D  🎞️
The year is 1989. Camp Knowhere. And since it’s the last year before he ages out of summer camp, Dustin Henderson is determined to 'WOW' everyone with his newest invention.
“They’re kinda like boner pills.”
“Oh...! WOW...?”
It’s not the weirdest thing Steve's heard come out of Dustin's mouth. In fact, he's practically immune to insanity at this point, having been surrounded by hormone-driven teenagers for a month and a half straight.
“Look I know, it sounds crazy,” Dustin pleads. “But imagine being able to walk a mile in someone's shoes just by eating a cookie. They'd be like the Viagras of empathy!"
Again, not the weirdest thing Dustin has said. 
And for as long as Curly keeps hanging out with Eddie Munson, his Other Older Male Friend (O.O.M.F.) constantly like he has been all summer, it certainly won’t be the last.
Being a volunteer camp counselor hasn’t panned out as expected for Steve Harrington. 
For the past six weeks, Dustin has spent most of his time locked in his cabin trying to perfect his new creation. But he's been MIA for so long, Steve hasn’t been able to teach him how to start a fire, pitch a tent, or even pick Dustin's brain about being his guest for Show and Tell. 
Making s’mores. Canoeing. Telling scary stories in the dark. Dustin and Steve are missing out on actual summer activities. The real reason he signed up to be counselor in the first place. 
But you know who has been able to spend time with Dustin?
"Eddie and I spent almost every night trying to come up with good fortunes," Henderson boasts.
Not the counselor, but the Certified Loiterer.
Steve bitterly kisses his teeth. “That’s awesome, man! But hey, speaking of spending—"
"They are so clever too. You gotta hear 'em!"
"I'm sure they are! But now that you're practically finished, I was sorta hoping—"
“AND,” Dustin adds. “if you get a good one you can add ‘in bed’ after for some comic relief.”
Steve crosses his arms as he finds himself fading back into silence.
“You are destined for great adventures…in bed,” Curly smirks, waving a fortune in Steve’s face. “You will be met with great luck this week... in bed. You are a pleasure to have around…in bed.”
“Agh, please tell me one of Harrington’s lays said that,” comes a voice. “Otherwise this interaction is very concerning.”
Dustin gasps. “EDDIE!”
Speaking of The Devil.
Like nails on a chalkboard, in walks Eddie Munson with his fucked up voice, fucked up rep, fucked up hair, and a fucked up sense of humor to match.
“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie gives a curt nod. “Hey, Steve.”
“Munson.”
“I was just telling Steve about my fortune cookies,” says Dustin. “I can’t wait to win people’s hearts over at Show and Tell, along with my spotlight secret weapon.”
“What’s your spotlight secret weapon?” Steve inquires.
“You’re looking at him,” Eddie quips. “I’m Dustin’s music act for his Show and Tell.”
There’s a pang in Steve’s heart that he wishes wasn’t there. All summer, the Retired Cub Scout had been secretly hoping that Dustin would ask him to be his Show and Tell buddy. He had so many survival skills up his sleeve that he wanted the little twerps to know before they age out. 
But the stars had other plans, he supposes.
“My friend’s friend’s dad is a music scout for Cardinal Records,” Dustin explains. “If he shows up and sees Eddie play, Corroded Coffin may have a chance!”
“Yup,” Eddie nods. “We’re performing our new song Take Me Away.”
He hands Steve a piece of crinkled paper from his back pocket, to which Steve reads after clearing the lump marinating in his throat.
“Don’t wanna grow up, I wanna get out. Hey, take me away,” Steve reads.
“Aren’t the lyrics so metal?!” Dustin beams in admiration.
“They’re uh, very edgy…” Steve shrugs.
“And incredibly fitting, when you consider the circumstances. Just wait ‘til you hear Eddie and his band perform it!”
“I think I’ll be busy with camp duties...” Steve grimaces, handing the sheet back over to Eddie. “Sorry.”
“No worries, they will just perform in your garage. They still gotta practice. Been needing another place to do so too."
Steve's eyes widen.
“What?!” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. When did we agree on this?”
“Uh, beginning of summer?" Dustin points out. "You said you’d be willing to accommodate any of my needs. Especially since my mom’s gone to her spicy book retreat and basically threw away keys to the house.”
Steve now recalls telling Dustin that. But nowhere did it say babysitting his replacement would be in the cards.
"I'm sorry Harrington, I know I'm kinda butting in…" Eddie acknowledges.
Finally, something he and Steve can agree on.
"But we're kinda desperate at the moment, so it would mean the world. You won't even know we're there."
“It’s still no!” Harrington blubbers. “Okay? With the loud music and Eddie’s screaming, I’ll have the Loch Nora book club moms with pitchforks at my door. We have a reputation to uphold.”
“Who’s to say the Loch Nora moms don’t want in on all the angsty fun?” Eddie smirks. “Corroded Coffin’s an acquired taste, but I’m sure your… progressive… neighborhood wouldn’t mind.”
"It's not that," Steve shakes his head. "Even though we’re ‘progressive’, my neighborhood is still very much suburban-families-with-young-kids. They'd call the cops on us, for sure."
But Loch Nora was just a decoy for Steve’s true feelings. If everyone sees how cool Eddie is, they’re going to make him their Comfort Grown Up. Then where would Steve go?
Especially if they caught a glimpse of those big, brown eyes and the way they glisten in the amber sunset. And apparently Dustin’s caught wind of this Munson Magic as well; because not too long after, he’s imitating Eddie, the coercion-via-cuteness factor ramping higher on his part. And how could Steve say no to his lil face?
“Just this one time, Steve?” Dustin begs. “Please, please, pleaaase?”
“Dustin…” Steve shakes his head. 
“Pleaaase,” a pouty Eddie chimes in, slyly gazing up at Steve through his long, batty lashes. “We’ll behave, Stevie. We promise.”
But Harrington is standing his ground. Eddie already stole his best friend away from him. His gig. His spot at the Cool Adults table. Did he want Harrington’s life too?
“NO!” Steve insists. "NO!"
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“YEAAAH!” Eddie croaks into the microphone while he seductively strums at his guitar. “YEEEEAAAHHHH!”
Performing in Steve’s garage was a YES-go after all. Especially if free bud has anything to do with it.
"This dude and his band are pretty good," Argyle comments as he takes a long, savoring drag from his hefty blunt. "Corroded Coffin, man. They're gonna be big one day."
"Just wait til you hear his guitar solo," Jonathan adds. "Eddie's been working on it all summer for Dustin’s show.”
The walls of the Harrington household are forced to withstand a migraine-inducing bass while everyone — but Steve —  jams out, losing themselves in a song about wanting to stay young forever.
“Don’t wanna grow up, I want to get out. Hey! Take me away…”
Jealousy festers within the host as he watches, taking in the sight of an awestruck Dustin playing his air guitar alongside Eddie, resonating with the lyrics the way he passionately yells,
“I wanna shout out, ‘take me away…away away away’…”
“Someone take me away,” Harrington’s inner monologue spews.
But it’s not that Steve hates the song, nor is he having a miserable time with everybody. It’s not that he hates Eddie or his stupid raspy voice, or the way he makes the guitar sing with every calculated twiddle of his fingers and every provocative buckling of his knees. In fact, it’s the opposite. Steve just didn’t want to admit that Dustin’s O.O.M.F. — and the other members of Corroded Coffin — were actually… pretty cool. 
And judging by the fact that Eddie was most likely Dustin’s first choice for the talent show, there was a cornier, more ominous second thing that Steve isn’t willing to admit: it’s that the exclusion really hurts him.
“Same old SHIT,” Eddie sings. “Never ends.”
“WHOA!” Harrington exclaims, waving his disapproving hands in the air.
The band stops the song immediately, the negative feedback from the amp plaguing the air while they stare around in confusion.
“What?” Eddie demands.
Any chance there was for Steve to try to humble 'The Freak', he took. And clearly this time around, there was no hesitation.
“You’re not really gonna say the S word when you perform at Show and Tell, are you?”
“The S word?” Munson retorts. “What, is this preschool?”
Ba-dum-tss! goes the drummer.
"Gareth," Eddie scowls.
Gareth Emerson digresses with a sheepish shrug.
“No," Steve shakes his head. "But it’s still a summer camp for kids.”
Eddie chuckles at this. “Come on, Harrington. Don’t act like YOU weren’t cussing up a storm at their age. The kids are all in their rebellious phase anyways. They’re gonna love it.”
Eddie’s known Steve since elementary school. This is the same guy who held swear contests, who cussed because he thought it made him look ‘mature’. The same guy that used to call women “bitches”. The same guy who almost got suspended because he and Tommy H. were yelling out slurs during an assembly, but luckily his superintendent mom was there to pull some strings to simmer it down to one afternoon of detention.
Harrington couldn’t possibly choose now to care about profanities.
“I’d rather you not bend the rules of Camp Knowhere.”
Bend the rules?!
It doesn’t take too long for Eddie to figure out that the issue goes beyond Camp Knowhere. In fact, both of Dustin’s O.O.M.F.s know that. 
 “Why the sudden change of character, Harrington?” Eddie crosses his arms. “Huh? After all these years?”
"All these years, what do you mean all these years?"
"You know exactly what I mean."
Captivated, nosy eyes bounce back and forth between the two as they argue... on and on and on and on.
“This happens every time,” Jonathan hisses to Robin at a low whisper so that they don’t hear. “Do you think they ever get tired of it?”
"I actually don't know what you mean," Steve counters. "And quite frankly, I feel like you don't seem to really know me at all."
“Hey, I’m just following your lead,” Eddie shrugs. “You never took time to get to know ME when we were in school. Unless I had something you and your friends wanted of course.”
“So all of this is MY fault?”
“I never said it was.”
It’s almost ritualistic at this point, the arguing. 
Just then, Gareth starts up again, issuing a theatrical drumroll to ease the tension. It only seems to make it worse, judging by how Eddie and Steve hiss at him immediately.
“GARETH!” “EMERSON!” 
The drummer refrains once more. 
Steve is quick to pick up where they left off. “I can read between the lines.”
“Crazy thing to say for someone who’s paid people to write his book reports.”  
“I’m just…looking out for everyone, okay?” Steve snaps, reverting the conversation back to the kids. “The children might not care, but it may look bad on the counselors. And I like my summer gig, spending time with my best friend. I don’t wanna jeopardize it.”
A self-serving response. Eddie knew to not put it past Harrington.
Regardless, Eddie chooses to comply. Not to give Steve what he wants, but because Dustin's happiness is on the line. And if his best friend is happy and Corroded Coffin gets a record deal, then Eddie wouldn’t have to deal with Steve Harrington or Hawkins much longer. 
The band starts up again and, this time, remains uninterrupted. 
Meanwhile, Steve sulks back in his seat, unable to pinpoint why he felt like the issue wasn’t resolved. But he soon realizes that for as long as Eddie Munson is part of the equation, the problem will remain a constant.
“Same old stuff,” Eddie bitterly corrects himself. “Never ends.”
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“Fortune cookie, anyone?”
Two hours feel like days when everyone is stoned. And given that everyone’s too tired (and high) to drive themselves home, a sleepover at Steve’s quickly becomes inevitable. 
“Did we get the same fortune?” Jonathan asks Argyle.
“No, we didn’t,” he shakes his head. “Guess we’re not feeling sorry for each other tonight.”
Dustin chuckles.
“What are we feeling tonight? I’m thinking pizza.”
Leaving everyone else to decide on munchies, Steve and Eddie appoint themselves as the Designated Clean-Up Crew, searching for and rounding up any trash they see laying around.
“So, what are you up to nowadays?” Steve questions. “Since we graduated high school.”
“Oh, same old, same old,” Eddie offers a tense chuckle. “Still in The Biz, but the money’s good. Thankfully this time I’m doing it without my pops around.”
It strikes a nerve in Steve. He’d give anything to have his dad around. 
He also wouldn’t be proud to be in the same position as he was in high school. Didn’t Eddie want to grow as a person?
“That’s amaziiing.” Steve lies.
Uncomfortable now, Eddie clears his throat, shifting his attention back to Steve so that he can eat his own words.
“What about you? What’s The Hair been up to?”
“I work at Family Video and then help out at camp right after.”
“Try bringing that to the career fair,” Eddie scoffs jokingly.
“Sorry?”
“I said great gig you got there,” Munson perjures.
Their gazes meet for a brief, charged moment before quickly averting. 
Eddie watches Steve with both curiosity and disdain. 
This is who his best buddy is seeing on the side? It’s hard for Eddie to think of anything Dustin and Steve could possibly have in common. What would they even talk about? Maybe the new Brook Shields movie, hair gel, and their favorite ice cream flavors, but that’s just about it. And Steve Harrington doesn’t seem like the best influence for Dustin anyways.
Steve’s eyes flicker towards Eddie, trying to hide his scrutiny behind a thinly veiled expression of disinterest. 
He notes the way Eddie’s band tee has seen better days, the sleeves ripped and the print faded, and the way he absolutely reeks of Mary Jane and indistinct rubber from a Spirit Halloween store. If Dustin brought Eddie home to Mrs. Henderson, she’d probably stroke out. 
Just then, a very intoxicated Robin chimes in.
“Duuude, Eddie. It’d be awesome if Coffin got this gig.”
“Oh, I know right?” Eddie lights up immediately. “We’d be out of this rugged town once and for all and living life in the big city.”
The distaste for Eddie only amplifies with that statement. 
All of Steve’s life, he’s had nothing but good experiences in Hawkins. To have a “rough” upbringing, you had to be looking for trouble. Which is something Eddie and his father, Al seemed to have been doing since the beginning of time. 
“What’s so rugged about Hawkins?” Steve challenges Eddie.
“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Eddie mutters.
“I would, actually,” Steve taps his feet impatiently. “Go on, tell the class, Eddie. What is so rough-and-tough about this part of town?”
Eddie knows Steve is trying to set him up. He thinks for a moment, carefully crafting his words before speaking.
“There’s just…” Eddie says with trepidation. “A lack of equal opportunity to succeed. Always has been. But in the city, opportunity is everywhere. For everyone. Indy would be a perfect, clean slate for us.”
It’s like a sock to the face. 
Lack of opportunity? Eddie is most definitely looking for problems now. If he wouldn’t consider Steve being nice enough to lend him his garage — even when he didn’t like him — an ‘opportunity’ to succeed, then what would he consider?
“I mean, sure. Hawkins has issues like any other city, but I think there are equal opportunities for everyone,” Harrington protests. 
“Very rich coming from you, Suburbia.”
“Uh oh,” Dustin mutters.
Now Steve is pissed. 
Does Munson think that just because Steve lives in a nice house he’s never had problems in his life? With that logic, Eddie isn’t going to get himself very far. It’s very evident now, given where he currently is.
“Why can’t you accept the fact that life comes for others too?!” Steve spits. “Life is also hard for me, you know!”
“Guys…” Dustin starts.
A bitter laugh expels from the pit of Eddie’s stomach.
“Life is hard for you?!” Eddie exclaims. “It’s hard for you? How can life be that hard? Hey, I’m Steve Harrington. My life consists of Daddy’s money, wearing hair pomade to the ceiling and getting rejected by girls!”
“Hey, why don’t we play that one song again!” Jonathan suggests. “You know the take me away, away, away, away, away!”
But Steve and Eddie are way too locked in, committed to tearing each other to bits because the other one started it. Eddie wanted to play that game huh?
“Well all YOU know is complaining about the consequences of your own actions!” Steve spews in return. “Oh look, I’m Eddie Munson, I’m painfully self-unaware, I’m inconsiderate of everyone around me, and I commit petty crimes then wonder why the cops hate me. AND I still live with my uncle – AT MY BIG AGE.”
“YOU STILL LIVE WITH YOUR PARENTS, HOW IS THAT ANY DIFFERENT?”
“AND! You’re as loud as your guitar. NEW-NEW-NEW-NEWWW. How about you evaluate your priorities if you want a good life, Munson? And make sure you at least have some ammo under your belt before coming for me.”
“Wow,” Eddie laughs. “I don’t know anyone more tone deaf. You think my walk of life was a choice?! Not everyone was handed everything on a silver platter, Steve. Not everyone’s lives are perfect like yours!”
“Sweethearts, anybody?!” Robin butts in, desperately waving the candies in the air. “You are what you eat, and everyone in this room is VERY, VERY SWEET!”
But the boys are only getting started. If this is Robin’s version of sweet, she was about to know what sour is real quick.
“You think my life is perfect?! At least you have a father figure.”
“I want you to assess the room we’re in, Harrington,” Eddie implores. “Family must love you a lot if they’re letting you throw parties and use drugs that a loser like me was nice enough to hook you up with.”
“Leave what I do outside of camp out of this! You know, as a counselor I’m not sure I like my kids hanging out with some loitering criminal all the damn time.”
“Not sure I like them hanging out with someone who acts like an overbearing, insufferable parent.”
“At least I have parents.”
Simultaneous gasps fill the room. 
The color drains from Steve’s face when he realizes the damage he’s done. He watches as Eddie seemingly deflates, shrinking himself down at the shoulders, and then sulking in place. A blank stare overcasts his eyes, lips desperately trying not to quiver while in front of an involuntary audience. 
“That was not cool,” Steve breathes. “I’m sorry.”
But Eddie is past the point of forgiveness. And caring. Steve’s already embarrassed the fuck out of him, so what’s Dignity at this point? Steve won. Whatever game he was playing.
“You’re right, Steve,” Eddie nods, bitterly. “You have everything I want. So why can’t you just give me this one thing?”
Steve really fucked up this time. He doesn’t even know why he even said that. It isn’t necessarily a brag that Steve has parents if they aren’t active in his life. Did he really want the last word so badly, he willingly let his anger steer the direction of the conversation? Sure, Eddie has backed off now, but the thick veil of suppressed tears did not make it worth it.
“Here,” Eddie quips as he chucks Dustin’s invention at Steve’s chest. “You win. You want a cookie for it?”
Before leaving the room, Eddie helps himself to one as well. Steve watches ashamed as Eddie storms away, not seeming to care who he bumps into on his way out. With the intention to make amends, Steve darts after Eddie, following him to the bathroom only to have the door slammed in his face.
“Eddie!” Steve knocks. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I thought I’d gotten over my anger issues and pettiness, so I don’t know why I said all that. It’s something I need to work on, for sure.”
No response. Steve tries again.
“You guys sound really good…” he musters. “I wish I had the courage to put myself out there like that.”
Steve gently taps the door with two fingers now. 
“Eddie?”
On the other side of the wall, Eddie is angrily wiping away his tears, upset at himself for letting someone who wears women’s hairspray and Tiger Beat cologne get under his skin. 
Giving up now, Steve sighs to himself and turns around to prop his back against the door. And in case Eddie decides to come back out, Steve decides to wait a while longer, reading the fortune from his fortune cookie in the meantime. 
“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”
“What could that possibly mean?” Steve thinks to himself as he takes a bite from the cookie. 
And at the same time on the other side, Eddie also cracks open his cookie. A nice little dessert with some kind words are sure to make him feel better. He reads his fortune.
“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”
“…in bed,” he adds with a chuckle.
Just then the ground begins to rumble. 
The sudden JOLT causes Eddie to drop his cookie and latch onto the sink for stability. Meanwhile, Former Cub Scout Steve who knows everything about Stop-Drop-and-Roll dives for the nearest piece of furniture, crawling underneath to protect himself from any debris that may fall onto him.
“EVERYONE GET DOWN!”
“JESUS CHRIST!” Eddie yells.
Hawkins doesn’t get many earthquakes. But according to the news, Roane County was due for a big one. This could well be it. 
But as fast as the earthquake happens, it fades away. And next thing Eddie knows, he’s taking deep breaths, gathering his composure before he swings open that door. 
“Shit — Harrington, are you okay?”
Steve scans the room, looking around for any debris that may block his plight towards safety. 
“Yeah I’m fine, thanks Munson,” Steve gulps. He allows Eddie’s firm hand to hoist him up. “Just a bit shaken up. Are you okay?”
Eddie nods his head rapidly. “I’m fine too,” he insists. “I’m just worried about everyone else.”
Running back over to the garage now, a frantic Steve and Eddie call out to their friends to make sure they’re okay. But when they arrive, they’re shocked to see everyone conversing, laughing, and ordering pizza, almost as if nothing had ever happened.
Steve coughs to make his presence known. “Did you guys feel that?”
Everyone turns to them.
“Feel what?” Dustin inquires.
“There was an earthquake.”
“No, there wasn’t?” Robin cocks an eyebrow.
“Yes there was!” Eddie insists in agreement with Steve.
“Are you sure?” “An earthquake?”
“There wasn’t an earthquake.”
“What earthquake?”
“A chicken bake?” Argyle questions, clearly high as shit.
“An earthquake,” Jonathan repeats for him.
“An Earth Cake?!”
“QUAKE!” Jonathan hollers. “EARTHQUAKE!”
“EARTHQUAKE?!” the startled stoner yelps.
“No no no!” everyone yells out, doing their best to contain Argyle’s panic. “No, no, no!”
———
“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington. I wish I could hate you.”
Eddie winces as his neck partially kinks, due to the fact that Steve was too short-fused to get him a pillow for tonight.
At least the futon is comfortable. After flopping around like a fish out of water for a few minutes, Eddie finally feels completely relaxed. And as he flips through his mental catalog of Dream Scenarios, the aspiring rockstar begins to drift off to Dreamland, envisioning his guitar solo and jamming out with his favorite herd of sheep.
Meanwhile upstairs, Steve is too emotionally uncomfortable to hit the hay.
“Get a grip, Munson,” Steve grumbles, angry at the thought of the freeloader below him. “If you stopped thinking the world is out to get you, maybe you’d actually see some progress in your life.”
After one last fluffing of his pillow, Steve reaches into his drawer and pops a gummy into his mouth, bracing himself for more Camp Knowhere shenanigans that lie ahead and having to deal with the Freakazoid-With-a-Victim-Complex in the morning. 
12:00 MIDNIGHT
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ [insert creepy, grandfather clock noises here]
8:00 AM
Obnoxious, fluffy duvet covers stir Eddie awake.
Maybe Steve did come with some goodies after all.
Munson begins to execute his morning routine: a gangly-limbed stretch followed by an exaggerated bellow and blissful smacking of his lips.
BONK.
A lamp on the nightstand interrupts his ritual. It is then that Eddie realizes.
He’s in a bedroom. 
“What the—” Munson mutters.
Sitting up slowly now, Eddie takes a moment to assess the room around him.
Trophies and medals. Cologne and hair gel. A work desk with a basketball net over it, and a Tommy Hilfiger pop-up shop in the closet.
He’s in Steve’s room.
But where is Steve?
Curious about the time and day, Eddie instinctively goes to consult his watch that normally rests on his wrist.
It’s not there. 
Eddie then looks at his hands…his palms… Not a single blister, callous or hangnail. Those are not his hands.
“Those aren’t mine…” he thinks to himself.
Eddie then runs some stressed fingers through his hair, only to discover that its length is half of what it was when he fell asleep last night.
“That’s not mine either.”
Eddie shoots up immediately. When he finds himself standing, Eddie notices his food belly is gone, and that six pack abs have taken its place. Eddie then stares down at his feet, which are now exponentially larger. And hairier. And his thighs, now they’re a lot bulkier.
Suddenly Eddie’s hands explore his thighs, grazing his quads shortly before going to grope the two plump mounds of tissue behind him, both cheeks comparably twice the surface area of his palms!
“That’s DEFINITELY not mine.”
Absolutely panicked now, Eddie releases his grip on the butt that isn’t his and dashes out the room.
It appears that he is somehow not in his body. And the only person in Loch Nora with a dump truck for an ass — that Eddie knows of — is Steve Harrington.
But if he's Steve, then where is Eddie’s body?
The couch.
Eddie bolts over to Steve’s living room in search of his corpse. And to his surprise, he does find himself there, the chest that was his – but not his – at the same time rising and depressing as he watches himself sleep. 
“Christ if that’s not Steve in there, then I’m dead,” Eddie thinks to himself. “And quite frankly, I don’t know which one is worse.” 
Eddie clears his throat.
"H-hello? Steve?”
Nothing.
“Steve?” Eddie attempts again. “Hey. Steve. It’s Eddie. Wake up!”
Nothing.
“This is an emergency, Steve. I need you to wake up now, please.”
He gets a good snore out of the entity. Completely frustrated now, Eddie does not hold back.
"This is alarming, Steve! WAKE UP!”
Eddie unearths the bottom half of Steve's…his… body by pushing the blanket aside. When he tugs at his legs, Presumably Steve retaliates, grabbing onto the arms of the sofa to keep him in place.
“EARTH. TO. KING. STEVE!” Eddie screams.
"Whaaat, dude?!" the host in Eddie’s body grumpily demands.
"Aha! So you are Steve!"
"Duh, who the fuck else?" It demands. "Are you still high?"
"If I was, then that would better explain this."
Steve must’ve really done too much last night. Because for a while there, the person who he assumed was Eddie sounded a heck of a lot like him.
"That’s fucking weird," Steve shakes his head, turning over to look at Eddie. "For a second there, you sounded a lot like m—AAAH OH MY GOD!"
Palms clasping his… (well, Eddie’s) mouth now, Steve can only gasp in horror.
"WHO are you?” he demands. “WHAT are you?"
"It's me! It's Eddie!" Eddie gulps. "I'm... I’M INSIDE OF YOU!”
There’s a pause.
“I don't like how I worded that,” he admits.
"Yeah, neither do I..." Steve agrees. Suddenly he squints. "Is that a zit on my forehead?"
He reaches to swat it but Eddie swats him away. Through Steve's gritted teeth, Eddie hisses,
"THAT'S what you're worried about right now? What in the sane hell is happening?!"
“This isn’t the first weird dream I’ve had after taking an edible,” Steve remarks.
“Harrington, this ISN’T a dream. Okay? This is real life.”
“Yeah, okay Munson,” Steve scoffs, finally hoisting himself off of the couch to pace around. “I know a dream when I’m in one. I just gotta… pinch myself or slap myself around and I’ll be awake.”
But Eddie wastes no time.
“OW!” Steve yelps. “You just pinched my nipple!”
“You mean my nipple?”
He does it again.
“OW! Quit it dude, that’s harassment.”
The two make their way over to a mirror in the living room. To test out the impossible, Steve raises his right hand. The mirror shows Eddie doing it. Eddie begins to touch his face. The mirror responds with Steve doing it. 
It’s the confirmation they were too in denial to come to terms with. They somehow switched bodies.
“Oh god, I’m…” Steve stammers. “Wow…”
“Oh…GOD!” Eddie shrieks. He inches closer to the mirror. “I’m like an off-brand George Michael!”
“HURTFUL—”
“Harrington!” Eddie exclaims, turning back around to face himself. “What was the last thing you remember from last night?”
“Uhh,” Steve stammers. “A-all I remember was us arguing during dinner time and going separate ways after. And then there was a big earthquake that everyone insists that they didn’t feel. And then…we all went to bed, and I forgot to get you a pillow.”
“It’s okay, I’m over it,” Eddie pants. “Way bigger issues than a pillow right now.”
“And now we’re here.”
The two frantically pace around the living room. How can something like this possibly happen?
"Okay,” Eddie exhales. “Yesterday we were here with everybody. All of us were seemingly having a good time until we got pretty into it. Then the earthquake happened, we went to bed, and woke up sober… but in different bodies. Is this like…a rare phenomenon…some kind of medical emergency?”
“I don’t know, dude,” Steve shrugs. “This has never happened to me before. There has to be a scientific explanation for this."
Suddenly their two brain cells click.
"Henderson," they utter in unison.
“It was probably Dustin’s Empathy science experiment,” Steve infers. “Although I'm not sure how a fortune cookie would take walking-in-another-person's-shoes so damn LITERAL."
"God, we’re cooked!” Eddie groans. “And we can’t tell anyone but our friends about it or else we’re REALLY gonna end up as test subjects!”
Eddie starts biting his new nails and frantically pacing back and forth. Meanwhile, Steve centers in on his breathing before emotionally responding to the situation in front of him.
“Okay…” Steve exhales. “Let me just gather my thoughts… You’re in my body and I’m in your body.”
“...Right,” Eddie nods, annoyed since they’d already established that. “Does it seem less scary now that you’ve said it out loud?”
“No,” Steve shakes his head.
“Alright, cool,” Eddie shrugs. “Just checking.”
They look at each other, absolutely petrified of the reality that has now sunk in. And before they seek any other forms of help, there was one more final thought the two needed to share alone… one O.O.M.F. (Other Older Male Friend) to another, in the comfort of Steve’s living room.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
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[cue panicked guitar rift here 🎸⚡️]
“This is so not cool, man, this is SO not cool!”
Argyle, Jonathan, and Robin are the first ones at the scene. Along with Dustin, of course, who is now evidently spiraling. 
“I need some air,” Dustin sighs. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.”
The scientist darts outside for a very reasonable and private mental breakdown. Meanwhile in his absence, everyone else attempts to get their Thinking Caps on.
“I mean…” Argyle pants. “It’s one thing to have a funky acid trip, it’s another to have an out-of-body experience…but this is…this is…”
“Freaky,” Jonathan finishes for him.
“It’s FREAKY!” Argyle agrees. “And it’s not like we can go to the cops, I mean, they'd never open their minds to something like this. They'd just ship us to the Kerley County KOOK HOUSE.”
“Or worse,” Eddie gulps. “The Lab.”
The room is drowned with frantic rambling once again as all the young adults talk over each other.
Will this be the new normal? A head-banging Steve and a preppy Eddie? It sounds like pure nightmare fuel. A disaster waiting to happen. And Dustin only programmed his fortune cookies for this… unintentionally. He didn’t program a way to undo it. 
Everyone is running out of ideas. That is until…
“Wait!” Robin exclaims. “What if you guys just…combined?”
The idea is met with retaliation.
“I beg your finest pardon?” “WE WHAT?!”
“Wait!” Eddie exclaims. “No, no, yeah! I get it. What if we… what if we just… RAN… into each other and the force will be great enough to switch us back?”
“Right! Right!” Steve frantically agrees. “Right, the greater the force, the greater the impact, and we’ll be back in our bodies in no time.”
Steve and Eddie are on opposite sides of the room before anyone else can register it. Kicking his foot around like a bull, Eddie warms himself up while Harrington takes deep breaths, grounding himself before the ordeal.
“Are they really about to…” Argyle begins.
“Sh.. sh..” Jonathan stops him.
“I really wanna see how this goes,” Robin adds.
“Okay,” Eddie huffs before he lets out a battle cry. “EN GUARDE!”
“OH GOD!” Steve shrieks.
“AHHHHHH!” 
“AHHHHHH!”
SMACK! PLOP!
Luckily the floor breaks their fall. The commotion grabs the attention of Dustin, who had just finished his meltdown. But at the sight of seeing his two friends attempt to combine, he could feel himself being launched into yet another one. 
“Okay,” Dustin sighs as he walks back in. “What the hell?!”
———
“Language, Dusty!”
The next brainiac to consult on the list is Suzie, Dustin’s girlfriend. Spawning from the Mormon Capital of the world (Salt Lake City, Utah), Little Miss Beauty and Brains is known to have a solution for just about anything. Until now, it seems.
 “I’m sorry for the language, Suzie. I’m just freaking out,” Dustin blubbers. “It’s not every day my best friends switch bodies and I have no idea how to change them back.”
“So let me get this straight…” Suzie sighs. “Steve is inside of Eddie, and Eddie is inside of Steve.”
“Okay, can we please stop wording it like that?!” Eddie pleads.
“Sorry, Steve.”
“I’M EDDIE!”
“Jiminy Cricket, this is so confusing.”
And what a sight for confused eyes it also is.  But as painful as it is to admit, it’s interesting watching “Steve Harrington” stomp at the ground muttering “Jesus H. Christ!” while “Eddie Munson” nitpicks everything about his hair in the mirror.
“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Suzie suggests. “How did this start? What did you use for your ingredients, Dusty Bun?”
“Passionfruit and cohosh,” Dustin answers firmly. “Well-known, NATURAL stimulants of oxytocin.”
“And you said they ate the cookies containing these ingredients?”
“Yes, and they got the same fortune which I programmed for them to feel empathy for each other when it happens. Their bodies should’ve released an immense amount of oxytocin. Instead, they uh well, they switched bodies.”
“Dusty Bun… there is no such thing as an oral oxytocin!”
“Why not?” Steve questions.
“Because it would just get destroyed in the GI tract,” Suzie explains. “Meaning there wouldn’t be any ‘stimulants’ to absorb into the bloodstream.”
“Meaning oxytocin would’ve never been released in the first place,” Eddie’s breath hitches.
“It’s also notorious for being unable to cross the blood-brain barrier,” Suzie adds. “Something always happens before it’s able to. This may as well be that something.”
“But… if it gets destroyed in the stomach…” Dustin wonders. “Then how the hell did Steve and Eddie still end up switching bodies?”
Suzie shoots Dustin a dirty look.
“How the heck…” he corrects himself.
Suzie softens up immediately. “I don’t know. Our Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. This may have happened for a reason. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’m sure it serves a Divine purpose.”
“Well, can it SERVE a little faster?” Eddie grumbles. “I’ve got a Show and Tell to practice for and Harrington’s got children to babysit. We obviously can’t do that for each other. People are going to think we’ve gone crazy.”
Suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head.
“Wait. Henderson! Give us a couple more cookies. Maybe if we get the same fortune again, we’ll switch back!”
“NO! No more cookies!” Steve butts in. “Who’s to say you won’t end up inside another person whose body you didn’t wanna be in?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Okay…” Dustin stops him, disgusted at the fact. “Enough.”
“Dustin is right,” Suzie nods. “Enough arguing for now, and no more fortune cookies with matching fortunes until we can find out what’s wrong!”
The boys watch as Suzie walks back towards her desk and returns with some papers and pencils.
“Here. My homework for you two is to write down every little detail there is to know about each other. This includes your day-to-day, your hobbies, and even habits. No one can know what is really going on behind the scenes.”
“Whoa whoa whoa, wait,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t like what you’re implying. We don’t have to… live life as each other… do we?!”
“In the meantime, yes. You do.” Suzie confirms. “And it will be uncomfortable, I’m not going to lie. But what else can we do?”
“Uh, go through all of Dustin’s fortune cookies until we find a pair so Steve and I can ingest THOSE!” Eddie points out.
“Yeah, and there goes BOTH my Show and Tell items!” Dustin hollers.
“Dusty, don’t worry,” Suzie speaks again. “You will get to showcase your friends and fortune cookies at Show and Tell. I’ll be doing my own research to ensure that this happens. This includes talking to some monks, priests, and rabbis. We WILL get to the bottom of this.”
The three leave Suzie’s cabin feeling absolutely defeated. 
Of course this would happen the summer Steve finally got his hair under control. And of course this would happen the moment Eddie has a potential record deal at the palm of his hands. Any other circumstance would have been okay, despite the freakiness factor. This was just shit timing if they ever did see it.
And if Suzie can’t fix it, they’re screwed.
When they get far enough away from the girls' cabins, Steve excuses himself to the nearest water fountain. In contrast, Eddie shows himself to the closest Porta-Potty, the safest place for him to have a conversation he wouldn’t be caught dead having.
“Hey God,” Eddie grumbles. “Me again.”
———
Adapting to each other’s lives certainly wasn’t easy.
It started with switching cars.
Steve’s BMW has sensitive brakes. Eddie’s beloved van, Halen, on the other hand requires more force, more aggression, something Eddie believed Steve would bust his toe doing.
And Eddie can only hope that when Steve is running around town as him, he doesn’t embarrass him all too much. He’s already not off to a good start, with a stupid Thundercats t-shirt on and his hair up in a bun.
“And when you’re outside with the kiddos, make sure they wear sunscreen,” Steve advises him. “You're a camp counselor, after all.”
“Got it.”
“And that an epipen is with you at all times,” Steve adds. “Some of the kids have bee and nut allergies and those reactions can be lethal.”
Make sure this. Make sure that. It’s odd for Eddie to be hearing it all in his own voice. Has Steve always been this annoying?
Eventually Eddie gets tired of it and consults his Walkman, blasting “Take Me Away” through his headphones to drown out Steve’s rambling. Rambling on and on and on and on… on and on and on and on….
“Eddie!” Steve shouts. “Are you listening?”
“Don’t wanna grow up I wanna get out,” Eddie sings. “HEY! Take me away.”
Eddie was listening. In fact he listens and pays attention more than Steve knows. He just doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“I’m gonna get you a real job,” Steve says to Eddie.
“A real job?” Eddie tuts. “My job is real. I sell real drugs and bring in real money to help my Uncle afford our really real rent.”
“But I’m not gonna be the one doing it.”
“Sure you are. You’re me.”
“Munson, no!”
“Harrington, yes.”
“I’M NOT SELLING KETAMINE TO MINORS, EDDIE.”
“Aw. But you fit the stereotype,” Eddie smirks, rather cheekily. “Now chop chop, Rick’s expecting royalties on said sales.”
“Maybe I can land you a hospitality job. Or maybe a front desk job. Something that comes with benefits. Something practical.”
“A Munson with a normal job in Hawkins?” Eddie can’t believe his ears. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
Perhaps there is a silver lining in all of this. 
For the average Hawkins resident, getting a job is no issue. It was never a choice for Eddie. Given his father’s less-than-cookie-cutter reputation – and Eddie being an involuntary extension of him – he couldn’t believe Steve couldn’t grasp that getting a conventional job is hard. And Eddie always thought Harrington needed some humbling. This is the perfect scenario for it.
“Take your feet off your dash,” Steve grumbles. “Steve Harrington doesn’t do that.”
“AyAy, Captain.”
“And stop head-banging in my body, will ya?” Steve begs. “You’ll break a sweat and un-pomade my hair.”
“God, you’re so anal about everything, Steve!” Eddie scoffs. “I feel sorry for those kids, I really do.”
If Eddie’s going to be walking around in Steve’s body, he at least wanted to relax first. But even that was impossible, given that Steve is a talker and alleged goodie-two-shoes-who-discovered-empathy-on-drugs-and-that’s-all-he-preaches-now (with the rules of a mother whose son was allergic to everything but water).
The car ride is more tense and quiet as the two approach Knowhere. Eddie is quick to scurry out when Steve approaches the drop-off curb, a little speech already prepared from the first nerve Harrington managed to get on in the morning.
“Loosen up that manbun,” Eddie commands once he’s out of the car. “You look like the Buddha went thrifting in Chicago. You also need to unclench your asscheeks a bit more if you wanna be me. And to put more fiber in your diet. How’s that for advice?”
SLAM! goes the door. Steve normally would’ve been pissed, but since he’s driving Halen, he’s lenient about it. So he watches Eddie walk away, in a stride that looks like he's constantly got a wedgie, over to the camp and towards the kids he is to watch until Show and Tell Day.
“WEAR SUNSCREEN!” Steve hisses, one last time. “…I don’t play about my skin.”
———
“Hey, Steve!” a group of campers greet Eddie as he makes his way into Knowhere.
God, this is so weird.
“Hey…kiddos?” Eddie greets them in return.
“We’re gonna go diving in the lake, just letting you know.”
“Thanks for the invite,” Eddie tuts. “Sounds like a lot of fun. Just uh, wear sunscreen.”
“Well, we try to invite you but you never wanna come with us.”
“Says who?” Eddie demands. “It’s summer, everyone goes to the lake.”
“Everyone but you,” a kid points out. “You turn us down every time.”
“I do?”
“All the time,” another kid confirms. “You say it ruins your hair.”
"I was...joking," is all Eddie can come up with.
"Really? Because it doesn't sound like you were," another child counters. "You already don't like that the UV rays have the potential to damage your hair cuticles, which aids in your fear of dryness and breakage. Furthermore, swimming in a lake filled with miscellaneous, unidentified bacterium is another concern, apart from the warm water having the potential to dry your hair out even more. Also, at windy temperatures of about 80 degrees, typical for a Hawkins summer, your hair when damp will start to frizz. Which is where your pomade and Farrah Fawcett spray come in handy. And on summer days, you give your hair 32 hours before the next hair wash rotation, to which the cycle starts again. We know the drill, Steve. You've explained it multiple times. And we get it now that you don’t like the lake."
Even the kids think Harrington's insufferable. Eddie can only shake his head in disbelief.
"I'm not who I was a day ago," Eddie shrugs. "...literally."
"Huh?"
"You gonna let me join or what?"
Suddenly, the kids’ eyes begin to light up. Steve Harrington joining them at the lake? It was going to be the most fun day they’ve ever had!
"Sure!" the kids cheer excitedly. "Al-right! Steve is joining our party!"
Eddie smiles to himself, proud of the reaction he got from the eager children. Excited cheers? Smiling faces? Now THAT is how you Camp Counsel.
And now that Eddie thinks about it, he realizes something. He’s spent most of his youth in survival mode that he never got to let loose and have fun. And while he has Steve’s body and physical activity levels, he is certainly NOT about to let that go to waste. Pomade? Eddie thinks to himself. Meet Trash Can.
“Hey guys! Wait for me!” Eddie calls after the campers. “CANNONBALL!"
Meanwhile Steve sets off to find Eddie a job.
A real job.
He tries Hawkins Mart. The roller rink. The movie theater. The coffee shops. Something that involved social interaction and hard work. 
"Hi there," Steve grins politely. "I'm Eddie Munson, and I'd like to apply for a job."
But Hawkins is anything but receptive to it.
"No."
"Nope."
"Sorry."
"Munson, eh? You related to Al Munson?"
"NO!"
Apparently misdemeanors and run-ins with the law make it impossible to land a good gig. It was no wonder now why Eddie stayed where he was comfortable.
Though, it's unconventional.
Steve is just about to lose hope when those looking for help didn't even want him.
But he wasn’t giving up. There has to be something Steve can do to increase Eddie's chances of landing a good job.
Just then, he realizes. 
Maybe it’s not Eddie’s past, but his demeanor. The way he carries himself. If he didn’t dress like a vessel for Satan every single day, this conservative town would probably take him more seriously.
It's one of life's twisted games. Steve didn’t make the rules. And he sure as hell can't change it. 
But there is one thing he can help Eddie do. He can help Eddie play the game. Master it.
And that’s when Steve sees the scissors.
———
So you can say sunscreen is the least of everyone’s worries.
“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”
“What did you do to MINE?!”
“I had to let her breathe man,” Eddie explains. “God, Harrington. No wonder you’re always in a mood. Holding your hair up with so much gel, MY HEAD FELT HEAVIER THAN A BOWLING BALL.”
“Oh yeah?” Steve challenges him. “Well your hair was so greasy, I could’ve pat it down with a paper towel like it’s PIZZA.”
The two are at it again, reaching at each other’s hair and then swatting each other away like flies. Suddenly Robin butts into the quarrel, emerging from the kitchen with amusement spread all across her face. 
“Oh…my…god…” she says.
Steve and Eddie simultaneously stop their bickering and pan their gazes over to her. Unable to contain her laughter, Robin releases a hearty chuckle in front of them.
“Holy shit, this is the greatest thing since disposable cameras,” Robin tsks. “On that note, let me go get mine.”
“NO!” both Steve and Eddie refuse.
“This is so humiliating!” Steve whines. “I look like someone literally mopped the floor with me!” 
“You're embarrassed?!” Eddie exclaims as he points to his own, original body. “Whose Peepaw died?! Why am I wearing a grandpa sweater sourced from the crusty back bins of Goodwill?!”
"I thought it'd be fitting attire for your library job that I got you."
"You got me a job at the LIBRARY?!” Eddie shrieks. “Out of all places?"
"No other place would hire you!"
"Can’t say I didn’t warn ya."
“And why does my hair LOOK LIKE THAT?!” Steve demands. “You went into the lake with the kids, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”
Eddie shakes his head at him, baffled. “God forbid, I – the camp counselor — do camp counselor things! I did exactly what you told me to do.”
“WHERE DID I SAY YOU COULD MESS UP MY HAIR?”
Steve takes a moment to mourn his glorious mane. Meanwhile, Eddie starts brainstorming how he’s going to rob a high end salon for all their hair growth serums. 
Just then, Robin reemerges from the shadows with her camera, panning it directly at the two of them, as if she were some eager journalist fighting for her spot on the front page of National Geographic.
“Say cheese, freaks!”
———
Eddie was having a hard time being Steve.
Being Hawkins’ most desirable male apart from Billy Hargrove was harder than he thought. Because while women worshiped the ground Steve walked on, it was hard for flight-risk teens to take the Pretty Boy seriously.
“Christopher!” Eddie hisses. “I told you to stop domesticating the raccoons, you little shit.”
Living in the trailer park, Eddie’s no stranger to those feral, yet adorable, beady-eyed beauties. And while they were cute, holding your hand, refurbishing your trash, and performing for crackers, there was an unspoken agreement when it came to those kinds of animals: you are to never take them in.
“But it’s for research!” Christopher pleads.
“I wouldn’t care if it was for the Nobel Peace Prize,” Eddie scolds him. He places his angry hands frustratedly on his hips. “Those things can be rabid, violent, and aggressive when you least expect it. Trust me on this. Raccoons are better left alone in the wild. They can’t live with people like us.”
A low, miserable groan furls at the base of the boy’s belly. He kicks at the dirt beneath him.
“Ugh, you ruin all the fun, Steve,” Christopher whines. “Eddie Munson would never treat us like this.”
That statement just about nipped Eddie in the soul. Was this what being a buzzkill is like? Little did Christopher know that it’s actually Eddie scolding him. And that the kids were not only hurting Steve’s feelings but his as well. 
Meanwhile Steve wasn’t having a grand time being Eddie either.
“HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING BOY?!”
He almost died. Quite literally. And if it hadn’t been for Wayne launching himself across the room to stop it from happening, the odds of he and Eddie ever switching back would’ve gone from unlikely to zero.
“What?!” Steve demands.
“What do you mean, what?!” Wayne demands. “You eat that thing you’re going to wound up in the hospital! Again!”
Steve’s eyes trail down to the delicious shrimp tacos he had bought for takeout from Estrella’s. 
Eddie is deathly allergic to shellfish. And with just a single bite of that shrimp taco, he would be in the back of an ambulance with hives and a closed-up throat. And judging by the fact that Eddie and his uncle didn’t necessarily bring home the ‘big bucks’, an invoice from Hawkins Memorial Hospital wouldn’t be an ideal situation to put him through.
“We’re already two months behind on rent,” Wayne grumbles. “You eat those tacos, kick the bucket, and rack up them bills, I may as well join ya six feet under.”
No tacos, no time and a half at work, and no solution to the problem at hand. No wonder Eddie was always an angsty mess. It definitely showcases in those lyrics too.
———
“Take me away, away, away, AWAY”
A killer guitar solo rips through the Harrington garage as Eddie strums away at the chords. 
In hindsight, it looks like Steve is the rockstar. But the feral energy is unmistakably Munson’s, to which Dustin can’t help but get lost in, dancing along as a one-man-mosh-pit to the brilliance of Corroded Coffin’s discography.
“Same old stuff, it never ends.”
“The song sounds so cool hearing it in Steve’s voice,” Dustin beams. “And I can’t believe you put him in a crop top.”
“It’s like dressing up a Barbie doll,” Eddie jokes as he puts his guitar away. He then turns his torso towards Henderson’s field of view. “Look… Harrington’s an innie.”
Dustin cackles at the sight.
“Hahaha, no way!” he cheers. “I’m an outie.”
“Me too.”
The garage lets out an insulated hum as Steve strides in with the tacos. He cocks an eyebrow, confused at the sight of Dustin and Corroded Coffin comparing navels with each other. 
“What did I just walk into?”
Eddie’s eyes light up at the sight of Steve.
“Ooh, is that Estrella’s I smell?” he inquires.
“All yours,” Steve grumbles. “Found out today that I can’t have shellfish.”
Eddie smirks at the realization.
“But I can,” he sings. “Because I’m Steve Harrington.”
Eddie rushes over to Steve to acquire the food. Steve goes over to greet the rest of the boys and to issue Dustin a long-awaited high five.
“Mmm…” Eddie coos. “Take a good look at these washboard abs, Innie. They’ll be gone for as long as I can have these tacos.”
Steve makes a face. “I can’t believe you put me in a crop top.”
“I can’t believe you cut my hair,” Eddie shrugs.
But he seems to have gotten over the fact. Hair will grow back. There were larger issues at hand today. Like how exactly Eddie is going to perform with Corroded Coffin at Show and Tell.
“Listen,” Eddie wipes his mouth. “Harrington. I have a favor. If worse comes to worst and we can’t switch back on time, I need you to perform as me for Show and Tell.”
“And why exactly would I do that?”
“Because it’s our one shot to make it big.”
“Again, why would I do that?”
“Because you love me,” Eddie sneers.
But his face drops when Steve doesn’t return the energy. 
Nowhere in the fine print did it say ‘Steve Owes Eddie’. So why would Steve bother? It’s a lot for Eddie to ask of someone he’s openly mocked for years. But now that he needs something, suddenly Steve is the coolest person in the world? It doesn’t work like that. 
“Hey…” Eddie begins. “I know you don’t like me, okay? Whatever animosity you have towards me, I hope we can move on from it one day.” 
Steve refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes.
“If you do this for me, I’ll be eternally grateful,” Munson adds. “And maybe just maybe — when Corroded Coffin makes it big and we start touring around the world — I’ll be out of your hair forever. Literally.”
“Seems transactional.” 
It leaves a bad taste in Eddie’s mouth. It was always ‘Terms and Conditions’ with Harrington. Never has he ever considered the other person’s feelings. Never has he ever done anything out of the goodness of his heart. It was always, “What do I get out of it?”. Always some sort of fucked up business move. Just like his father.
“You view everything as a transaction, don’t you?” Eddie scoffs. 
“Why would I do favors for someone who’s done nothing but disrespect me? I value my time and energy. I’m not wasting it on you.” 
“But you can waste it on being a camp counselor, right? The kids aren’t so hot about you anyways, so I don’t know why you keep showing up.”
“Because Dustin is there. Because I’m a good friend. You wouldn’t know sacrifice and loyalty if it hit you in the face.”
“Ah, there it is. The performative activism in plain sight. We all know that this is about Dustin. AAAAlways been that way.”
“Of course my summer is about Dustin,” Steve argues. “You’ve had him all year. Spending every second with him and breathing down his neck.”
“I’M the one spending too much time with him?” Eddie scoffs. “Breathing down his neck?! You’re the one who got a gig to be closer to him.”
“Does it register with you that it’s because I DON’T SEE HIM MUCH AT ALL ANYMORE?” Steve shouts. “He’s always at your stupid D&D games and never wants to hang out with me! You’re taking the spotlight, like you always seem to do!”
“That’s IT!” Dustin barks. “I have HAD it with you two fighting all the time.”
Finally, it’s quiet. And normally the two would be stoked about it, but seeing Dustin on the brink of tears does not make the last word worthwhile at all.
“Not even a life-changing catastrophe will make you guys stop! You’re in each other’s bodies for Christ’s sake and still going at it like cats and dogs.”
Dustin starts back towards the house, kicking at the chords beneath his feet that are blocking his dramatic exit. All Dustin has ever wanted from those two – and quite literally every adult in his life – was co-existence. A notion so easy, yet no one has ever been able to give him that. Not even with his damn empathy cookies.
“It all makes me feel like a failure. Locking myself in my cabin for six weeks to have my fortune cookies yield THESE results? My last year at camp too.”
“Dustin–”
“And if you guys keep this up, then I don’t wanna spend the rest of my summer with either of you. How’s that for compromise?”
“Hey. Buddy…” Steve starts again.
“Henderson!” Eddie calls at the same time.
But it’s already too late. Off Dustin goes, Camp Nowhere notebook in his arms, walkie in his pocket, and car keys jingling furiously around his fingers. Nothing worth displaying at Show and Tell if the grown ups were going to act younger than the campers there. And if Dustin’s anger wasn’t already prominent, the way he backs out of Steve’s driveway is a dead giveaway, judging by the screeching tires and the pop of the engine as he steps on the gas.
“Damn,” Jeff comments. “Taco ‘bout a tough crowd…”
Ba-dum-tss! the drum sounds.
“GARETH!” Steve and Eddie growl.
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"Scott Clarke."
Hearing that name nearly gives Eddie whiplash. Especially because it came out of Steve’s mouth.
"Huh?"
Steve repeats himself. "Scott Clarke? Our middle school science teacher?”
Steve is perched at the bottom of the stairs, wading aimlessly around in guilt. Eddie watches as he props himself against the rails of his fancy staircase, almost as if to serenade him with an apology song of sorts. 
"When we were kids, he headed the Hawkins Middle AV Club,” Steve recalls. “Nancy was in it, and so was Mike and so was Sinclair, Baby Byers, and Dustin.”
“Go on…”
“Well…whenever they ran into trouble, Mr. Clarke was always there to help,” Harrington shrugs. “Always been very personable, non-judgmental, and most of all, he’s knowledgeable.”
“Okay…”
 “And with his degree from MIT, he’d be the one most likely able to get us out of this mess,” Steve emphasizes. “Just in time for Show and Tell.”
“What makes you think he’d want to help former students like us?” Eddie demands. “We weren’t in the AV club or anything.”
“Because he cares, Eddie. Current students or not.”
There’s a pause.
“Remember that one time you came into homeroom with a black eye?” Steve reflects. “And Clarke made you stay after class so he could ask if everything was okay at home?”
Attempting to mask the mushy feelings underneath, Eddie simply shrugs. Steve persists.
“Other teachers would have assumed you got in a fight or something. Even if that was the case, none of them cared to look further into it. No one except Mr. Clarke.” 
“Yeah,” Eddie admits, choked up now. “Yeah, I almost forgot about that.”
It actually was a fight that happened that day. Some random kid at school. But there were also times Eddie has gotten in scuffles with his father, typically when Al Munson stumbled home too drunk for his own good and tried laying a hand on either him or Uncle Wayne. And Mr. Clarke, having grown up with Al, knew what he was capable of. Meaning it was his unspoken civil duty to look out for (Munson) Junior.
“And,” Harrington sighs. “I’m kinda really desperate here. I want you to be able to perform at Dustin’s Show and Tell. You and the band have a shot at this. I wholeheartedly believe that. And I don’t have much faith in my ability to perform as you. Neither does Dustin, it seems.”
“Steve…” Eddie begins. 
“And sure, I was upset about not being Henderson’s first choice for a while,” Steve rambles. “But I’ll be okay. The kids can learn survival skills another time. ”
Grateful tears start to form in Eddie’s eyes. He’s never seen this side of Steve before. 
“My hopes and dreams don’t depend on Show and Tell,” Steve mumbles. “And if it means a producer from Cardinal Records is going to be there, then getting Wayne and yourself out of debt does.”
Their eyes meet again.
“I can’t take that away from you.”
Suddenly the rocker feels his knees buckle.
It feels as if Eddie’s soul is about to leave his body. Or Steve’s in this sense. Struggling to keep his composure, the ever-so-rugged Eddie Munson clears his throat.
“…I didn’t think you paid attention to any of that, Steve.”
“I pay attention more than you think,” Steve counters. “And if my observations are right, Mr. Clarke might have the answer.”
Steve shrugs, dangling the keys to Eddie’s van around his fingers. He hula hoops them around as Eddie remains floored, pondering above him.
“Well?” says Steve. “You just gonna stand there and gawk, ‘Harrington’? Come on.”
Perhaps walking and gawking would be more productive. Without further hesitation, Eddie races down the steps and follows closely behind Steve before shutting the door to the house.
“Wipe your feet,” Steve commands as he unlocks the doors to Halen.
“What do you mean wipe my feet?” Eddie snaps. “It’s MY van!”
“Yeah, but I’m the one who’s been driving it,” Steve counters with a glare. “And I’m saying wipe your feet.”
Nonetheless, Eddie sighs and does as he’s told. But he’s not happy about it. 
Never in a million years did he think Steve Harrington would tell him how to run his own van. Nor did he think Harrington would actually end up being a good dude. Both were very humbling experiences. And while King Steve drives them off to Hawkins Middle, willingly blasting Metallica and doing his best to head-bang, Eddie crosses his arms and stares blankly out the passenger side window.
“I’m never eating anything Dustin makes me again.”
———
"So..." Eddie prompts. "Can you fix us?"’
“If it isn’t broken, then do not fix it,” Mr. Clarke advises. 
There was only so much that could be disclosed to their former teacher. Being an educator also meant being a mandated reporter, and it’s without a doubt government officials would bust down the doors of Camp Knowhere and run a freak raid on Dustin’s science experiment had they known the truth. Steve and Eddie had to gloss over practically everything.
“I appreciate and am honored to know you two trust me with your dilemma,” Mr. Clarke nods. “That being said, it is normal for gentlemen your age to go through an identity crisis after experimenting with recreational drugs. It will subside, but only if you don’t fight it.”
A decade can certainly change things. Steve and Eddie never expected their most logic-driven teacher to embrace his heart, dressed in a brown linen robe, as he calmly kept them on standby with soothing, meditative “Ommm”s while they spiraled into desperation in his ‘BACK TO (S)C(H)OOL’ classroom.
“But what is the science behind this?” Steve demands. “Is something happening in the…the… what did Suzie call it? The blood-brain barrier? Why would… Harrington and I both feel like we are living the life of the other person?”
“To question everything is to not know peace,” Mr. Clarke soothes them.
He’s saying this while criss-cross-apple-sauce on his desk, by the way.
“Sometimes, it is best to simply let things be,” the educator warns. “By going against the grain of the water, you are blocking the potential you can reach if you had been in a flow state.”
“Good God, you choose NOW to go on a spiritual retreat?!” Eddie hisses. “When we need science and your genius mind the most?!”
“If not now, then when?” Mr. Clarke mumbles. “If not you, then who?”
For the first time in his life, Eddie feels plagued with academic regret. He wishes he paid attention in Clarke’s class. Meanwhile Steve is considering having a word with his superintendent mother, because no way in hell is some barefoot, most-likely-vegan lunatic about to indoctrinate the future kids of America. 
“If not you… then who?” Clarke repeats. “If there's one thing I learned during my time in research… and mindful meditation…  it's that sometimes the answer is right in front of you. Or within."
Steve and Eddie look at each other.
"The world is full of obvious things," Mr. Clarke says. "...which nobody, by any chance, ever observes. Sherlock Holmes."
Accepting the absolute bust, Steve and Eddie storm out of the door and back down the stairs of their prepubescent alma mater. 
“Son of a bitch,” Eddie curses under his breath. “The damn hippies got to him before we did.”
As the two walk down the stairs, Steve sneaks a few quick glances Eddie’s way. Seeing him upset didn’t necessarily make him feel so hot. The answer is clear: they need to venture beyond a Mormon child and a middle school science teacher. They need to consult the big dogs. 
“We can go to the Indianapolis Science Center,” Steve suggests. “And maybe ask some people there. There’s also the university. If we flag down a professor from the physics or chemistry department, maybe they can offer us some insight. Or…”
“Just give it a rest, Steve,” Eddie surrenders.
“What?” Steve questions. “No! We’ve got to figure this out before Show and Tell. It’s in a couple days.”
“What’s a couple days?” Eddie demands. “We’ve been like this for nearly a week. What makes you think it won’t last another week? Or indefinitely.”
Eddie kicks at an empty carton of orange juice at his feet while Steve watches with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He didn’t want Eddie to give up. Not yet, at least.
“Hey I’m not going to let you blow this shot, Munson,” Steve demands firmly. “I know how much this means to you. This could finally be your ticket out of Hawkins. You guys were meant for the Big City.”
“No,” Eddie disagrees, absentmindedly. 
Eddie’s gaze veers off to the side, a sadness in his eyes so profound that Steve almost starts tearing up as well. 
“All… the answers… point…to no,” Eddie continues. “Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone followed their dreams? We’d have no one doing the conventional jobs. It's not in my cards, I fear. Maybe I was always meant to stay in Hawkins, being everyone’s weed man and no one’s first choice.”
“Eddie…”
“But thanks for trying though, Harrington. Doesn’t go unnoticed.”
———
To be continued…
✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
📽️ INTERMISSION CREDITS 🎬
DIVIDERS
@saradika-graphics
@silkholland
@dreamlandcreations
BETA READER
@mediocredreams
TO PEEPS THAT
MAY
BE INTERESTED
@littlexdeaths
@joshlmbrt
@swiss-mrs
@hugdealer
@munsonssweets
@eddiesxangel
@myherometalhead
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westanthewaterman · 20 hours
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Feel You - Dark x GN!DA!Reader
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Rating: NSFW
Word Count: 1700+
Summary: Reunited after a century apart, Dark and the District Attorney spend some quality time together. Or more simply put, love sick Dark -> feral Dark.
Contents: handjobs, penetrative sex, no pronouns or body parts used for reader, standard Dark pet names (dear heart, pet, etc.), mild voice kink, blink and you miss it references to Dark's mind powers
AN: Idk where this came from, but it was fun to write. I'll post to AO3 and add all my usual links later, I should've been in bed an hour ago. If you're still here despite my hiatus, I appreciate you.
         Dark hikes your leg up onto his hip. He relishes in the softness of your skin beneath his fingers, a concrete reminder that you’re here, that you’re together again after everything.
         The new position allows him more space to roll his hips, grinding down against the heat between your legs. You shudder beneath him. He repeats the motion once, twice, and you throw your head back against the pillows.  His hungry, grey eyes follow the column of your throat upwards until they land on your mouth. Your lips part around a whimper and he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss against them.
“I’ll never tire of hearing you sing for me, dear heart.”
“Damien,” You whine before hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
“I think it’s a little late to hide from me now.” He chuckles. “What’s gotten you so shy, darling?”
“You never talked this much before.”
         Dark tenses, a familiar, far-away look in his eyes, one he always gets when the two of you discuss the past. You cup the side of his face, gently guiding his gaze back to yours. He blinks. A melancholy smile settles on his face. You pull his head down so that you can press your forehead against his.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
“You’ve done nothing wrong, my love. There are bad memories, yes, but also good ones. In fact, I can recall quite a few memories of us just as we are now, bare in each other’s arms, locked in the throes of passion.”
There’s a wry smile on his face, one that reminds you of evenings spent tucked away between bookshelves, sneaking out of dormitories at the crack of dawn, a rendezvous in the storage closet of a crowded chapel. Your heart aches for all the two of you have lost and can never get back. But despite everything you had been through, the two of you were together again.
Dark presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I can feel how your mind races. I think about it too, even now. Almost a century without you and I never stopped feeling your absence. I ached to hold you in my arms, to have you beneath me, to feel you tight as a vice as you come apart around me.”
A thought creeps into your mind and turns your stomach to lead. He had been by himself for so long, sure you were gone forever. You couldn’t blame him or be angry, but still the thought makes you sick.
“Was,” you pause a moment, steeling yourself for his answer. “Was there ever anyone else? In your heart, or your bed?”
He looks at you as if your words have burned him. When he speaks, his voice is firm, unwavering.
“No. My dear heart, there could never be another. I vowed to love you in sickness and in health, in love and in death. There could only ever be you.”
“Oh.” You blush.
The intensity of his answer makes you feel foolish for even suggesting such a thing. You drop your gaze, absently picking at the sheets beneath you. It’s Dark’s turn to take your face in his hand and bring your gaze back to him.
“I loved you deeply, but I know my actions did not always convey that. At times, I allowed my responsibilities and ambitions to blind me to how I was neglecting you. You deserved a better man than I knew how to be back then, and I have spent a century regretting it. But now, despite terrible circumstances and the battles still to be fought, we have a second chance, and I intend to use it to do right by you.”
“Damien, I…I don’t know what to say.”
“There is no need to say anything, dear heart. I know you feel as strongly as I do; I feel it through our bond, and soon I’ll feel it here as well.”
Dark presses a finger against your entrance, pressing it into you slowly. You cry out, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him flush against you
“You said earlier that I never used to talk very much when we were intimate, and you were right.” His voice drips with venom as he continues. “The prim and proper mayor, so worried about civility and manners. Too obsessed with his image and what was ‘acceptable’ to truly speak his mind.”
You want to argue, to defend Dark’s former self against his own harsh criticism, instead a moan rips its way out of your throat when two more fingers fill you. Dark’s grin is wicked. He ducks down to press his lips to your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and giving it a quick tug. You clench around his fingers, earning an amused chuckle.
“I have no such worries. My only concern is pleasing you and, by the way your body responds for me, I can tell I’m doing just that. This little hole of yours is so hot and tight around my fingers, and it’s all for me, isn’t it?”
A shudder wracks your body and you moan, digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Oh,” Dark purrs. “Now what got that reaction? You like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, pet?”
“Y-Yes.”
“But what is it that has you so responsive? Is it my voice in your ear? The things that I’m saying to you? Or maybe none of that matters. Perhaps I could say anything, and you would respond just as wantonly, so long as I have you filled with my fingers or my cock.”
“All of it, it’s all of it. Damien, fuck.”
“Dear heart, such foul language. Have I already wrecked you so thoroughly?”
You scowl at him but you both know there’s no mirth behind it. “Fuck you.”
         There’s a wicked glint in his eyes as Dark grabs a handful of your hair, pulling just enough to force your head back and bare your throat to him. Sharp canines scratch playfully against the sensitive skin of your neck.
“You should be careful what you ask for, my love. I am a changed man with a century of pent-up sexual frustration. I could take you over and over and over again, never tiring until I have given you every drop of my spend and the only word you know is my name.”
Dark sets a languid pace thrusting his fingers in and out of you.
“You want it now, just as much as you did back then, isn’t that right? You wanted the serious, respectable mayor to break. You craved to be taken passionately, for him to make love to you like a man starved.”
“Yes, yes.” You nod frantically, bucking your hips against his hand.
“I have hungered for you for so long, dear heart; I feel almost ravenous with it.”
Dark removes his fingers from you and fists his leaking cock, stroking himself slowly. You find yourself mesmerized by the motion and the way his stomach muscles tense and flex with every stroke of his hand. Your eyes follow a drop of his arousal as it drips down the underside of his cock. You lick your lips. Knocking his hand out of the way, you take him in your own, his length hot and heavy in your palm.
         He groans appreciatively as you stroke him from base to tip, occasionally rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock. You guide his hand to rest over your heart.
 “You’ve spent all this time talking about what I want and how you can please me. What do you want?”
“I want to make up for lost time. I want to give you everything I could not before.”
“But that’s still about me. Damien, what do you want?
He falters. “I…I just want you. I want to feel you. I want to know that you are real, and not just some illusion he made to torment me.”
“I want to feel you too.” You guide the head of his cock to your entrance. “I’m here, my love. I’m real. This is real.”
Dark presses into you in one long, slow thrust that has him buried to the hilt. Both of you moan at the sensation. You wrap your legs around his waist and urge him forward, forcing his cock deeper inside.
“Fuck, my love, I never thought I would feel you like this again.”
You smirk. “Such foul language, Damien. Now who’s wrecked who?”
Instead of a response, Dark grabs your face and presses your lips together in a passionate kiss. So much is shared between you in this single moment of contact, decades of sorrow and grief, an emptiness immeasurable by time. But there is also hope and joy, lust and elation. Most importantly, there is love; a love that has weathered the test of time and survived even the most unthinkable circumstances.
The two of you pull apart, both crying and holding each other like your lives depend on it.
“I love you, dear heart. Thank you for coming back to me.”
“I love you too, Damien. Thank you for finding me.”
Dark speeds up the pace of his thrusts, breathing heavily in your ear.
“I am afraid it has been too long, my love. I have spent a century waiting to feel you like this again and now I find myself unable to hold back my release.”
“I’m close too. You feel so good.”
“I want you to cum with me now. Let me feel you.”
         He grabs your thighs and presses them back so that he can rut into you, ruthlessly. You cry out at the way the new angle causes the head of his cock to brush against a sweet spot deep inside that has you seeing stars. Your orgasm washes over you and you finish with a cry of his name. The tight heat of you bares down around him and the dam holding back Dark’s climax breaks. Waves of pleasure crash over him as he stills inside you, filling you with his release.
         The two of you lay together in silence, collecting your bearings. You think you might fall asleep until Dark gives a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you.
“How-”
He gives you a wicked grin and presses his lips to your ear.
“I told you I was a changed man, dear heart, and we have quite a lot of lost time to make up for.”
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taxreturnslut · 5 months
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for the music ask! 12 & 18 :)
12) Song from the 90's
A formative song from my youth that thankfully came out at the end of the 90's
18) Song you recommend
Honestly this was a lil hard bc I feel like all the songs id recommend to you you've already heard 😅
Musical Asks
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sesamenom · 8 months
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Flavors of numenoreans (minus the druedain because i still haven't figured out how i want to draw them)
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robinmage · 5 months
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no kind of relationship will ever be as impactful as the slightly toxic slightly homoromantic hyperdependent bestfriendship you had with someone when you were like 12
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todayisafridaynight · 6 months
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any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that
if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it
#snap chats#no one understands how much i love that from y3 and y4 its genuinely one of my favorite things about the game#oh but i guess i have to give an actual answer now. HMPH.#id scream if they revived kanda calling mine limp wristed. homophobia in 4k#OK BUT TO BE SERIOUS uhhhh i dont know. im a real simple guy i think#my only like. If This Isnt There Im Leaving deal is mine's palette and im so serious#rgg's scaring me with all the black-hair/purple-suit mine stuff as of late and i cant stress how hard ill vomit if thats in the final#HYPOTHETICAL final anyways. yk3 isnt coming out for. IDK A WHILE#i wanna say i hope they highlight daigo and mine's relationship more but i dont know how theyd do that#i really like how mine's handled in y3 as is so i dont think i want scenes injected like what they did with yk1 and nishiki#someone said a Mine Saga after the game and... hm ... sounds too unrealistic for me to hope for it#like im REALLY trying to think how they could possibly reference the rggo stories in y3 since those are EXCELLENT but#i think . MAYBE. you could reference the story where richardson calls mine as he's driving to the hospital#the only thing you'd have to exclude though is mine stopping by the bar- like JUST keep the phone conversation maybe#cause in that scene that subordinate does question mine if he can really kill daigo and i think thatd be neat. in my opinion.#yeah i dont know. in regards to rggo its hard to think of what i want without intervening things i already like about y3#its a real head scratcher ...#a really good epilogue addition would be adapting that RGGO bit where daigo ruminates on mine. that's a fair ending for him i think#it also fulfills the need to see how daigo saw mine even if its just a little#and to non-rggo readers it could start to answer 'how does daigo feel about everything that happened'#im still so curious as to if daigo was briefed on EVERYTHING that happened but .... anyways....#sorry all my hopes for y3 are just mine/minedai centric fLVKELKA BUT LIKE. i really am content with everything else with y3 surprisingly#idk. i want kiryu fucking up that curry in high definition tho. thats important to me#THEY HAVE TO KEEP THE QTES DURING THE RICHARDSON FIGHT ILL BE PISSED#i need the fight to be AS CAMPY and unnecessary as it was in the og. INCLUDING richardson's voice acting i need it wack as hell#is it weird i actually appreciate the Diet Building Loredumping being like. in replayable-cutscene form#i thought id prefer just One Long cutscene but im glad theres the option to skip those segments#BUT being able to get a refresher in case you missed something somehow#im running out of tags jesus christ i shouldve put this in the main text but vjALjlagj those are all my thoughts for now bYE
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aromanticdayout · 1 month
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saw a tiktok of a guy saying as an autistic person all of his best friends and people he instantly clicked with have been people with adhd............all of my best friends have had adhd.......
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arklay · 2 years
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WIP DAY.
tagged by @girlbosselrond @morvaris @aartyom @risingsh0t @phillipsgraves @leviiackrman @indorilnerevarine & @denerims over the past month! sorry it's taken me so long to get to anything at all, i'm sure you guys have heard me address it enough, but thank you all so much for continuing to tag me in things while i've been inactive ♡
tagging @aelyosos @brujah @calenhads @florbelles @jendoe @lightwardens @liurnia @nokstella @nuclearstorms @shadowsofrose @shellibisshe @steelport @swordcoasts @wrymbloods @voerman & all of those who tagged me again cause i'm so behind + anyone else who'd like to share anything they're working on, not just writing! ♡
i haven't written anything since the last wip game i did, but i started trying to put diana's timeline together at the start of january, so i mean... i'll show that instead. as you can see, fatigue hasn't let me do much with it even though i've got all of her timeline already done and strewn about all over the place.
started with 1995 onwards cause it was originally going to be an ewskers timeline situation, but then wanted to include all of her backstory so i went back to the start and still have the late 80s and early 90s to get through before then, but yeah :]
it's going to include like all little moments i've thought of between the ewskers just for me and placing them on the timeline, so you can imagine how long this is going to get if i have to go to 2021 for village... like just 1996-1998 is going to be so much... she's very special to me if you couldn't tell already lmaoo
never sharing this though, it's just for me, and like will help for when i do her timeline page (more in-depth version of what's on her oc page) to just run through canon events and brief descriptions and whatnot. you understand.
everything is blurred out besides 1995 ewskers momence and the years, just cause like idk her i feel weird sharing her in-depth backstory unless it's in dms or something, just cause there's lots going on there and yeah. things. idk
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i also made a carrd for twt if you wanna have a look at that :] there's some cheeky subtle things with the two resi items i used as pics hehe
actually, you know what, i'll give a lil bit from where i left of with that rewrite anyways, even though it's been months since i wrote it. but why not
Wesker left a fleeting kiss behind her ear then reached around her and hooked his fingers beneath her coat, prompting Diana to glance back at him. But all he did was gently pull it from her shoulders. She watched him from out of the corner of her eye as he hung it up on the rack by the door, his movements careful and almost calculated, until he turned back towards her, and the warmth of his body returned once more. He pressed up against her side this time, as opposed to her back, and one of his hands found a home on her waist. The way the arm it belonged to was resting firmly against her as he began leading her towards the kitchen was comforting, secure, yet unmistakably possessive. And she revelled in it. He had quite the knack for handling her just the way she wanted.
#tag games.#keep going to do picrews and just zoning out 😭 i'm so behind on literally everything but it's fine it's okay (lying)#i'm having a day and a half even though i woke up feeling okay but oh well. my last month has just been like watching videos during the day#or playing games when i have a bit more energy but like i can't do anything that requires me to actually read or write things like words#are just not computing in my brain at the moment but it's okay like i'm just exhausted and hoping soon i can get back to writing because i#still have over 30 wips going lmao but yeah it's been a time a half with lots of appointments and seeing specialists again and trying to#sort things out. i've been more active on twitter which i've mentioned before but it's just because like it's easier for me to sort of just#like and rt things and not having to do my organisation tags and things like i know that sounds so just small and simple but that's how#i've been lately like to my brain rn that seems like a really big task. so i just keep coming on here randomly for a few minutes then#disappearing so i'm sorry that i've definitely missed so much and i haven't been around to just show my appreciation and love to your#creations!! also just everything that happened in december and then a bit at the start of january too like i'm just a lil paranoid about#being on here honestly so i'm trying to get back to it and be okay with posting again and i'm going to make a promise to myself to actually#filter more tags i think? just to help me with like not exposing myself to things that do make me feel uncomfortable in any way!! i'm#rambling now but sorry sometimes i just need to lmaooo idk but yes so cute lil subtle things from my carrd i wanna talk about cause why not#i didn't have to change the blue herb from re0 besides making it brighter because it's already teal toned which is so sexy but i shifted#the hue on the spade key like SLIGHTLY like it was so little. but anyways. i use this emoji ✨ on my twitter name and yes cause sparkles but#also. three stars. the s.t.a.r.s. badge and logo :] then blue herb because i will have no poison in my safe space!!!! take a blue herb or#leave please!! only good vibes and safe space here!! spade key because i'm ace <3 i was going to include the diamond one in there as well#because am demiro and like those are the symbols in the community. ace of spades for ace. diamond for demis (both orientations)#but wasn't sure how to weave the pink through the rest of the carrd even though cyan and pink together is so pretty omg
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sandersinabox · 8 months
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Another night to feel lonely
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aeyumicore · 1 month
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misty invasion - no restraint
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━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: xavier x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with some/little plot
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 5k words (jesus i even cut 1k out)
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, spoilers AND alterations to ‘no restraint’ (xavier’s misty invasion card), switch!xavier, slightly dark!xavier, super possessive!xav, so much pussy eating, nose stroking clit, cumming on pussy then using as lube, mating press, sensory play but not actually, thigh biting, ankle kissing, foot massage, slight finger sucking, slight dub-con somno at the end, use of y/n
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: video | ao3 | sylus's version | raf's version | zayne's version
━ ✧.˖ A/N: sorry this is late! I’ve been dealing with some harassment but won’t get into that here. You guys have been waiting so patiently for this one and i’m so excited to finally share it with you guys. I love writing and it’s incredible to have people to share my passion with, so please enjoy xavier fuckers!
part three is our dear xavier! idk how this one got so long i cut 1k words and its still 5k LOL somehow longer than sylus’s? i haven’t written for xavier in sooo long so this was both challenging but fun! I miss him <3 I wrote xavier as more dark!xav than the soft xavier, but there’s definitely a good mix of both
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖
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As a Hunter, you’ve had to thoroughly train your senses to be as adept and and accurate as possible, to keep yourself, your fellow Hunters, and the citizens of Linkon safe.
Sight. The ability to track every micromovement a Wanderer made and react in milliseconds. Being able to quickly spot things that don’t belong, indicating something more sinister.
Hearing. Being able to detect even the mutest of sounds. The muffled shuffling of leaves, a slight creak in the wind that could warn you of incoming danger.
Smell. The almost imperceptible scent of different species of Wanderers, each one specific to each genus, able to provide valuable information on what to expect.
Touch. The distinct textures of your different UNICORN issued tools and weapons, the simplest grooves and ridges helping you quickly discern what is what in moments of life or death.  
What you hadn’t necessarily needed was the sense of taste, but that wouldn’t be a sense you’d need as a Hunter. Right?
In the soft glow coming from the protocore you and him had confiscated from an illegal protocore trade, Xavier sat at the foot of the bed you’d be sharing tonight. The soft orange light emanating from the protocore casts a vaguely romantic atmosphere around the two of you. It was suffocating and addicting all at once.
Perhaps it was your fault, you’d teased him, claiming the protocore in question had dulled your senses, a side effect from its unique Protocurves. A clear and obvious lie. 
But you hadn’t expected him to respond so boldly. 
To test your sense of sight, moving from his spot across the hotel room to approach the foot of the bed, sitting so closely that you could see the droplets of water dripping down his bare chest, gliding along the grooves of his muscled abdomen.
To test your sense of smell, leaning in so teasingly close to you that the soft clean smell of his pheromones, akin to fresh laundry blowing in the spring breeze, invaded your very essence. 
To test your sense of hearing, whispering dangerously sultry but innocent words under his breath to taunt you, seeing if you could hear how much he wanted you. 
To test your sense of touch, reaching out to grasp your face into his fingers, warm from the hot shower he’d taken. So daringly caressing your warm cheek in his palm, with a heated desire that you knew could consume you whole. 
It was truly all enough to drive you utterly insane, at the point of no return, nearly jumping him right then and there.
Perhaps Xavier could see that, deciding to give you a temporary reprieve from all the “sensory tests” to complete a test of his own 
His voice is a faint murmur, “Before the rain stops, is there anything you want to do?” His words sound less like a question and more like a plea. Bordering on a demand. 
At his words, your eyes trail to the body lotion you’d set on the nightstand next to the Protocore. You’d just been about to apply it before Xavier had come out of the shower. You bite your lip at the thought of his strong hands rubbing the expensive cream into your aching muscles. Xavier’s eyes follow yours, and he smiles gently, standing up to grab it from the side table. 
He unscrews it, the soft scent of strawberries wafting in the space between you. Under the soft glow of the Protocore, Xavier’s face is flushed, his breath unusually heavy. His eyes are focussed on the body lotion, but you can just barely see the stormy heat behind them. 
“What, are we testing your senses now?” you tease him, sitting up with your hands hugging your knees. 
Xavier sits back down on the bed, the mattress dipping at your feet. Your toes brush against the soft silk of his bathrobe, the knot even looser now, leaving far too little to imagination. His voice is gentle, but urgent, “The Protocore’s Protocurves can…dull a person's senses.” 
He places his palm gently on the underside of your thighs, pulling your bare calves toward him. His touch is impossibly soft, yet strangely enough it leaves your skin burning. You let your body be guided towards him until his chest is practically pressed against your knee. With your bare calf in his hands, it makes it difficult to think. But you do your best to speak, “So…are you affected by it too?”
As Xavier smears the lotion across your flushed skin, he murmurs, “Maybe.” He takes another scoop of the cream into his fingers.
“It’s possible…I won’t be able to feel you anymore from now on.” His eyes are trained on your leg as he speaks, fingers wandering from your knee to your exposed thigh. Though you both know his senses were, and would be, perfectly fine, the longing in both his low voice and dark eyes felt completely real.
As his hands rub into your skin, his fingers briefly find their way under your nightdress. He leans down, resting his chin on your knee. He practically hugs your legs to his chest, the opened jar of lotion still in hand. WIth his curious fingers on your thigh, under the lace hem of your nightdress, you try and distract him from your flushed face. You take a small dollop of the lotion in his hands, teasingly brushing it to his nose.
“What’s the fragrance? Can you smell it?” Xavier’s face on your bare knee doesn’t move, but his eyes flit up to yours, dark and amused. 
He has a barely perceptible smirk, fingers stroking small shapes into the area where your lace nightie meets the skin of your exposed thighs, “Strawberry.” He sounds uncharacteristically self-assured, his chin moving down so that he can smell your skin. 
You shiver as you feel the cool inhale of his nose against your knee. His lips ghost along your leg as he breathes in the scent, lingering for so long you’re nearly quivering against his hold. His hand grips your thigh possessively as he murmurs, “Or maybe...that scent…is cherry.” The way he buries his face into your legs, inhaling so deeply, is nearly enough to have you passing out.
He comes back to nuzzle his chin into your knee, glancing up at you in an expression that is eerily dark and soft all at once, “Was I right?” His words are gentle but there’s an exhilarating taunt underneath them. It only makes you want to taunt him back.
You reach for his ear, noticing it’s unusually peachy pink, stroking along the soft lobe, “Here’s another test. What do you think my hand is doing right now?” Xavier’s eyes close at your touch, his breath heavy and hot against your thigh. His brows furrow, and if it weren’t for the way he leaned into your touch for more, you’d almost think he was in pain. 
As his eyes flicker open to meet yours, you take his cheek into your hands. There’s a vague haziness in them, almost like he’s having a hard time keeping them open, drunk off even your slightest touches. He sits up, leaning into your hand.
“You need to do it harder,” he urges, desperation making itself known in his sultry voice. Your hand trails down his ear, tracing the sharp edge of his jaw and making its way to Xavier’s bobbing neck. 
Your fingers move intentionally, trailing down to his collar until they rest on his chest, “What about now?” 
Though his chest heaves, his blue eyes smolder with an unbridled confidence, “...Too gentle.” He looks at you with an unspoken plea in his eyes, begging you to touch him more. Harder.
You let your shaking fingers toy torturously with the reddened skin on his sharp collarbone, swirling your fingertips on his pounding chest. You bite your lip, enjoying the way his breath comes out in needy pants, the look of desperation on his parted lips growing stronger by the second, “If you still haven’t felt it…”
Xavier continues your thought, cerulean eyes filled with a desperate longing, “If I haven’t felt it…” You gasp as he grabs your wrist forcefully, bringing it back up to his face.
His grip is commanding, caressing your palm with his soft cheek, his breath fanning the inside of your hand. His movements are almost imperceptible, until you feel his lips closing over your middle finger. You’re unable to stop the shiver as his tongue grazes against your trembling finger, his lips caressing your skin in his mouth.
Xavier desperately hopes you keep your eyes trained on his, and not the embarrassingly prominent tent under his thin robe, throbbing for your attention. His breath is hot as he pants against your finger, “...does this mean I’m a lost cause?”
You pull your hand away, unable to withstand the effect his lips enclosing in your fingers is having on your body, your thighs clenching together under your own robe and nightgown. 
“What should we do?” you murmur before softly clutching his shoulder, pulling him closer until you can whisper into his ear for a little hearing test. You let your lips graze his reddened earlobe, before whispering.
“Xavier.”
It comes out far more sultry and seductive than you’d originally intended, betraying your body’s true desires. Xavier apparently shares those same desires, because as he hears you gasp out his name his body has a visceral reaction. 
His heart pounds so rapidly he’s almost sure you’d be able to hear it, his muscled chest rising and falling in an irregular rhythm. His face looks almost anguished, fighting an internal war against himself. He glances towards you, his eyes dark with unbridled desire. 
“Oops. Looks like something broke,” you grin cheekily, thoroughly amused by his reaction, fueled with confidence. 
Xavier’s eyes are so dark they’re nearly black as they drink in the sight of your beautiful smile, as you sit with your knees up on the mattress. The next thing you know, Xavier’s is pushing you down, your back hitting the plush mattress and your robe fluttering open to reveal your flimsy nightdress. 
Xavier stands above you, before his hand comes down to grip the mattress beside your head, pinning you down. His eyes trail up your body, savoring every exposed centimeter of soft skin, before boring into your beautiful eyes. His body is pressed gently into yours, and you can very much make out just how excited he’s become. The area between your thighs moistens at the feeling of his arousal pressed into your stomach. 
“Your sensory test isn’t over yet,” he grunts, his face tortuously close to yours. His eyes are hooded dangerously, an imminent threat reflected in his ocean blue eyes. He leans forward, so close his torrid breath fans against your parted lips.
“Let’s do a taste test,” he murmurs, eyes shutting as he finally closes the distance between your lips in a toe-curling passionate embrace. His tongue prods at the seam of your lips, which you happily part to give him access. He moans into you as he indulges in how delicious you taste, quickly addicted to your soft and warm tongue against his. 
When he finally pulls away, he’s a complete and utter mess. His breath is uneasy and rapid, his body contorting with the rhythm of his pounding chest. His fingers have found their way into yours, effectively pinning you securely against the bed under his hard body. 
“Xavier…” you gasp, squeezing his fingers, “Even someone like you can lose your composure, huh?”
As your bodies heave together, Xavier takes thick and deep lungfuls of your scent, his face buried into your neck.
“One doesn’t need that much composure,” he groans before diving back into the crook of your neck, lips latching onto your pulse. 
As he holds you, gently suckling at your neck, you prod him, “What are you thinking of?”
Xavier hesitates, his lips hovering centimeters above your skin, before murmuring, “Something…indecent.”
You bite back your grin, thoroughly enjoying how needy he’s becoming. With his body still atop of yours, you bring your lips to his ear letting your wet lips stroke against his earlobe. 
“Xavier…” you purr, “Tell me what you’re thinking of.”
You can see Xavier’s neck throb with a thick gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly. It’s then he decides he’s done playing games. 
He sits up eerily calmly, until he’s on his knees at your feet. His fingers trail down your bare thighs, to your calves, and to your feet. You squirm at his fleeting trail of touches, squeaky moans of anticipation slipping from your lips.
As his hands slide down your legs, he lifts your foot into his hands, fingers kneading your aching sole. You moan, your eyes squeezing shut at just how wonderfully Xavier knows your body, knows how to touch you. 
You’re so caught up in the feeling of his hands on your ankles that you don’t notice the way he cups your calf, raising your leg into the air as he caresses it. It’s not until the distinct feeling of his warm lips meet the bottom of your calf do your eyes screw open.
Your breath catches in your throat as you take in the sight before you, Xavier placing a feathery trail of kisses down your calf all the way to your foot. As he tenderly kisses your ankle, his eyes open to watch you with a hungry gaze. 
“The Protocore’s effects…I think we need a stronger test,” he mutters, his mouth rubbing against your ankle still. He sets your leg on his shoulder, gently spreading your thighs apart. 
You blush as your legs part, leaving little to imagination as Xavier situates himself between your legs, one propped on his muscled shoulder and one hooked above his forearm, “Xavier?”
He doesn’t respond, eyes trained on the glistening patch of dampness that adorns your panties. It takes all of him not to drool right over your half naked form right then and there. As his head lowers to kiss your thighs, you tremble at his proximity to your throbbing cunt that leaks with desire and arousal.
“I-Is this…strong enough?” you squeak, his tongue lapping slow circles around the areas his teeth graze. His fingers dig into the plush of your thighs as he indulges in the taste of your legs, eyeing the beautiful way your panties are creasing against the lips of your pussy. He can practically feel the heat coming off you and it makes him bite hard. 
You squeal, your back arching up and fingers reaching down to pull at his soft hair. It’s impossible not to enjoy the sharp graze of his canines and the contrastingly adoring caress of his tongue. Too distracted by the pleasure, you don’t feel the embarrassing slick dripping down your thighs.
But Xavier does.
He detaches his lips from your thighs, briefly admiring the handful of flowering red bruises littered against both your plush legs. 
“It’s…stronger. But this…” he trails off, and that’s when you feel his fingers hooking your soaked panties to the side. You yelp as his fingers languidly swipe at your folds, coating himself in your arousal and bringing it up to his mouth. 
You watch in a mixture of embarrassment and desire as he slips his fingers into his mouth, his tongue swirling around his digits and eyes shut in utter bliss. 
When his blonde lashes finally flutter open, his hazy pupils are dilated amongst the sea of azure, piercing into your own.
“This, I can taste,” he grins gently at you. It’s so effortlessly Xavier, yet something sinister lurks beneath his soft smile. Something that makes you shake to your very core.
You don’t have time to ponder the darkness behind his smile, because Xavier is gripping you by your hips, bringing the apex of your thighs to his waiting mouth, salivating at the beautiful sight of your exposed cunt. His eyes flit from your core to your eyes, your upper body propped up on your elbows as you watch his heated gaze devour you. 
“Please…” Xavier rasps, his voice guttural and desperate. The proximity of his face to your weeping cunt lets you feel his hot breath fan against your quivering pussy, “Please let me.”
You’re speechless, so you nod fervently, gripping his soft hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Xavier wastes no time, burying himself into you. You gasp, spine curling at the force of his demanding lips against your cunt.
You’d think Xavier had been starved for days, the way he latches onto your lips, his tongue eagerly lapping at your slit, savoring every drop of your sweet essence. You thrash at the unrelenting pleasure, as Xavier’s bruising grip holds you in place. 
“Let me enjoy you, please,” he groans, nose rubbing into your clit deliciously, “Who knows if I’ll ever be able to taste you again?”
You whimper at his filthy words, trying to stay still as he ravishes you with his skilled tongue. The lewd slurps and moans that come from him are enough to drive you to the edge of insanity, unable to contain your furious writhing. Xavier only digs his fingers harder into the plush of your thighs, doing his best to keep you in place.
Xavier moans into you, the vibrations of his pleasured sounds thrumming straight into your body. He doesn’t let a single droplet of your nectar go to waste, his tongue lapping diligently. There’s absolutely no shortage of it, as his pointed nose brushes against your clit, his tongue stroking sweetly into your lips. 
“You taste like heaven, Y/N,” Xavier moans into your folds. The vibrations of his filthy words send you reeling and you can barely hear him, only able to respond in the whiniest moans, too wrapped up in the pleasure his mouth so skillfully brings you. 
“Xavier!” you cry, toes digging into the ropes of muscles on his back.
You can vaguely feel one of Xavier’s hands abandon your thigh, moving to free his cock from under his loose robe. You can’t see much, but you can see the way his forearm jerks up and down, the veins in his arms bulging as he pleasures himself, fueled by the taste of you. 
“O-oh f-fuck!” you cry, your back arched, the soles of your feet pressing into Xavier’s back, “Xavier…p-please don’t – nngh – stop!”
Through your widely spread legs, you can see just how aroused Xavier is by your pleas. His fingers can barely wrap around his thick girth. They move up and down effortlessly, coated in his copious pre-cum. It honestly looked like he already came with just how much of his slick was smeared on himself. He’s so impossibly angry and red as he thrusts into his own fist, your tongue unconsciously licking your lips at the sight. 
You’re only snapped out of your mesmerized staring when his lips latch onto your clit, tongue lapping eagerly against the throbbing nub of nerves. His lips suckling at your clit, tongue stroking so sweetly, is just enough to have you coming completely undone all over Xavier’s face. 
You try to pull always as you feel the warm gush coming, but Xavier only holds you down harder with his arm wrapped around your thigh, his hands jerking up and down his leaking erection even more desperation. With nowhere to run, your body thrashes erratically in his forceful arm. Your back arches into the air, your head digging into the plush mattress, as you squirt over Xavier’s insistent tongue. 
You’re well into the depths of overstimulation, feebly pushing his head away, whispering brokenly, “X-Xavier. S’too much, please.”
But he can’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in your taste, in you. Your body curls in a stinging pleasure as he continues to devour you, positively starved. 
The lewd slurps of his face in your wet thighs, your unabashed moans and cries of ecstasy, the taste of your release against his greedy tongue, and his forceful grip on his cock drive him to his own orgasm. 
He forces himself to pull away, his lips wet with your slick, your body collapsing but still slightly elevated with your calf thrown over his shoulder. With his position kneeling at your feet, your right leg still by his neck, his cock spurts right onto your quivering and overstimulated pussy. 
“H-holy,” Xavier groans breathlessly, hands still jerking himself up and down as rope after rope lands on your glistening cunt. His spend is so deliciously hot against your sensitive skin that you can’t stop the full body tremors that wrack your body. His copious streams of cum start to drip off your quivering cunt, pooling on the mattress beneath you.
Xavier leans forward, clutching your thigh as his body heaves with an overwhelming  satisfaction. His fingers dig into your already bruised thighs, his breath heavy and desperate. 
You want to giggle at his ruined state, stroking his back teasingly with your toes, your calf still resting on his shoulder. Your fingers reach for his ear to caress his cheek and tease him with your words from earlier, “So little composure. Adorable”
Xavier’s gaze, longing and soft, twitches. Before you know it, your back is flat against the bed once more, both your legs pressed against your chest. Your feet hang in the air above your head, Xavier’s heaving body pressed on top of you, something hard and wet pressing into your still trembling core.
Out of sheer surprise, you cry out, “X-Xavier?” Your hands instinctively come up to cup his face.
Xavier doesn’t speak, his eyes trained on your cunt as he runs his tip up and down your folds. When he finally looks up at you, there’s a dark almost feral look in the storm of his cerulean eyes. A look of unbridled animalistic heat. 
He bends down, his beautiful face dangerously close to yours as he smirks, “Isn’t this what you wanted, angel?” 
You shiver at his unusually edged words, eyes widening as you nod gently. Unable to deny the truth of his words. You knew it, and he knew it. You absolutely always wanted him, especially when he was this unhinged. 
Xavier smiles, it’s deceptively gentle as you can see the dangerous glint in his eyes, “I know, Y/N. So, please. Let me give it to you.” Though he begs, you can tell he’s not really asking. Not that you minded. You’d give him absolutely everything. 
So you nod, peering up at him through your eyelashes. Xavier smiles, finger stroking your cheek. With his other hand, he takes his cock, rubbing his cockhead into your sopping folds, smearing his cum messily around. He’d spurt so much milky seed onto your pussy that it quite literally felt like a bottle of lube had been squirted onto you. 
“You’re perfect,” he whispers. For a brief second, the bright light returns to Xavier’s eyes as he adoringly watches you, with so much affection in his azure eyes. It’s gone just as quickly as it comes, his cock splitting you apart as he thrusts into you. 
You cry out, unable to do anything but take him, your legs caged against both your bodies. The mating press he has you in is so mean, his hard strong body so imposing as he thrusts into you. It’s so easy for him to slide inside you, his cum on your skin even slicker than lube. 
Xavier’s breathy moans wash over you at every single mean thrust, his smoldering eyes never leaving yours as he ruts into you like a madman. A man positively starved. And only one thing could satisfy him. 
His hands press into the mattress beside your head, his entire body boxing you in, with only your thighs separating you. You wish he could hold you closer, press deeper into you, as deep as his cock was currently in your throbbing pussy. 
“X-Xav…” your squeal. The position he has you in gives him easy access to your most sensitive spots. Xavier only moans in response, not typically a man of many words when it comes to being buried in your guts. 
Which is why you’re surprised when he grits out, “Mine.”
You’re so surprised, mind so clouded with his massive girthy cock, that you gasp out, “W-What?”
Xavier’s smirk is faint, almost imperceptible, “You’re mine. I would never leave you.”
His pointed thrusts make you cry out in pleasure, losing your train of thought again. His smile grows more confident at your inability to speak, “Isn’t that what you told James? That your partner left you?”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, before realizing he's talking about the man you’d been flirting with for information at the protocore trade, “J-James? You – hnngh – y-you mean Henrik’s idiot – nngh – bodyguard?” 
Xavier drives into you with an even more mind-numbing intensity at the mention of another man. You can see his jaw twitches, his eyes swimming with shadowy emotions.
“What do you think he took you up to the sixth floor for?” he growls, uncharacteristically and darkly gruff, “For this?” 
To punctuate his point he slams his pelvis into your ass, the lewd pap sound of wet skin against wet skin deafeningly loud. 
“It’s too bad for him. You’re mine.” His words are a sweet threat, with no violence and all the passion in the world behind them.
The raw possession in his voice makes you approach your orgasm far too quickly. Your thighs shake uncontrollably at the strain, but even more so at the pleasure Xavier drives into your gummy walls. His cock is so thick that your body burns with pleasure as he stretches you to your limit, your walls sucking him tightly, unwilling to let go. 
Xavier moans at the unbelievably incredible feeling of your walls tightening against him, trying to wring him into you. Xavier’s thrusts become more erratic as he comes closer to his own release, and you’re desperate to cum with him, your orgasm impossibly iminent. 
You know just how to send him over the edge, as you take his jaw into your fingers, his chest pressed into the fat of your thighs as he folds you quite literally in half. Xavier looks surprised but lets his face be guided to yours, his eyes still holding glimmers of shadows held back by a thin shred of restraint. 
“Xavier,” you whisper, trying to keep your orgasm at bay so you can experience simultaneously with the blonde haired man deliciously rearranging your guts, “I’m yours, always.” 
Xavier’s eyes darken, his eyebrows furrowing, as his body responds to your sweet words. His thrusts are harder, rougher, and all the more forceful and demanding. He’s utterly desperate to feel you cum atop his cock, his beautiful girl. Entirely and completely his. 
“Yeah? Then cum for me, please.” His voice is a guttural growl, matching the animalistic intensity of his body pounding into yours. But he stutters just a bit, as you can practically feel the veins in his thick cock throbbing against your pulsing walls.
With Xavier’s intense eyes on yours, your body folded mind numbingly against his hard chiseled body, his filthy possessive words fanning across your lips, it’s impossible to keep your orgasm back any longer. 
You cum with a strangled cry of his name, your elbows bending so your fingers can furiously claw at the sheets by your head. Xavier moans out at how tightly your cunt grips him amidst your climax, absolutely forcing the orgasm out of him. 
You’re a moaning whining mess as Xavier fucks his seed into you. Even after his first orgasm, there’s so much cum, both inside and outside. The area where your bodies are joined is a sticky mess of cum and saliva.
Xavier is no better, the grunts and babbles streaming from his own mouth an absolute symphony to your ears.
“That’s it, love,” he rasps, “So good for me. Such a good girl. My good girl.”
You stroke Xavier’s soft blonde hair as his thrusts slow to an eventual stop. His softening cock is still in you, and you wince as you can vaguely feel it slipping out. Your hips scream in discomfort, your thighs still pressed firmly into your chest as Xavier gasps for air above you. 
You whimper as he shifts, and instantly Xavier is back to his usual soft self, fawning over you, “Are you okay?” It’s honestly insane how quickly he switches, because as his blue eyes search yours, you notice the darkness is gone. All that’s left is that starry glimmering sea of ultramarine, soft, concerned, and loving.
“H-heavy,” you whine, tapping at his thick shoulders. Xavier’s off of you in a flash, his soft cock slipping out as sits on his knees before you. He hovers over you, careful not to put any weight on you, as he brushes your tangled hair off  of your sweaty forehead.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing along your flushed cheek, “Was I…Did I take it too far?”
“No, never,” you mumble happily, draping your arms over his neck. Through his gentle smile that could move the stars, you can see how exhausted Xavier is, but he continues to stroke circles into your skin. His hands reach down to massage your bruised thighs, hickeys littering every inch of you. The serene intimacy of the moment is enough to lull you towards sleep, despite the mess between your legs. 
You must’ve nodded off for a few minutes, because when you open your bleary eyes you see Xavier between your legs, carefully wiping the sticky mess away. 
“Xav, s’okay,” you whisper sleepily, stirring in his careful hands and barely able to string together complete sentences, “Clean tomorrow, sleep now.”
“It’s okay, angel,” he murmurs, his voice so warm and dreamy. He holds you gently in place as he continues to wipe you off, “Go back to sleep.”
Your eyes flutter closed at the feeling of his hands soothing your aching muscles, losing the fight against sleep, “You don’t feel tired?” 
Xavier chuckles, the sound meeting your ears even in your half-conscious state, “I can still feel. But I think I may need another…taste test.”
You can hear the mischief in his voice even if you’re too exhausted to open your eyes.
“Just sleep honey, let me take care of you.”
Something about the playful heat in his voice makes you doubt he’s just going to be cleaning you up with the warm towel he had in his hands. And the thought of that excites you beyond belief, even as you succumb to sleep. 
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.ᐟ✧ THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND AO3. i am not @/aeyumicores or @/aeyumiicore or any variations of my blog name.
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artemismatchalatte · 1 year
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I intended to do Inktober this year but got lazy with it. I finished one picture (inked and colored) and then did an outline of another character but never did any more.
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dollaches · 2 months
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— my wait is you
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♡ closeted!abby anderson x fem!reader
synopsis: after deciding to stop seeing abby completely due to her inability to commit, she drops everything to make it up to you
a/n: from a req… im so sorry this sucks so bad & i did not proofread
warnings: closeted abby duh, owen gets his own tw, internalized homophobia i guess (?), mentions of crying, improper communication, secret relationships, kissing, sorta established relationship, whiney and needy abby, pussydrunk abs lol, dry humping (THE CROWD GOES WILD), face sitting, abby is a messy eater and a MUNCH, make up sex, mentions of strap usage, cursing, a little bit of angst in the beginning if you squint and turn your head away a little bit, fluff, cliffhanger idk if i’ll make a pt2, and pet names
wc: 3.8k
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The bustle from all the people in the dining hall made it impossible to think and in some ways that was comforting, yet everyone's presence was a bit too overwhelming at the moment. 
You dropped a half finished sandwich into the trash, having no appetite after what you endured today. As you walk back towards your assigned room, the memories of Abby’s betrayal come flooding back. 
 It didn’t take long for you to realize that she wanted to live a double life, one in which she was with Owen and another where she was with you.But you were not going to give her the pleasure of having both, not when it’s fucking with your head as badly as it is.
Today you had been assigned patrol with Abby, who you just so happened to be avoiding like the plague as of late. It was easier to avoid her, as you knew if she were to look at you with her kind eyes, you would give in to her every request. 
Fate seemed to be against you, as you had the daunting task of facing her for almost an entire day. You brushed off every attempt she made to speak with you, your gun held tightly in your hands as the two of you left the base. 
The gentle “hey” that fell from her lips was only met with silence, your eyes focused on the path ahead. She knew you were pissed— knew she fucked up badly enough to ruin everything the two of you had built together. But she just didn’t know how to apologize to you for being unable to be openly out with you. 
Tension between the two of you became so thick during your journey that you could’ve cut it with a knife, but you refused to budge. 
Even when she tried to soothe you a bit by offering to stop by the old desolate book store the two of you had found, she was met with silence before you simply shook your head and looked away from her. 
It was eating away at every inch of her being, her hands twitching at her sides as she yearns to get her hands on you. She misses being close enough to breathe in your sweet scent, misses the way your soft hands felt against her skin— she missed everything. 
To you, she was simply being a pain and rubbing it in your face that she had chosen to be with Owen rather than you. So during the entire trip, you remained silent and didn’t allow Abby any comfort for once. She eventually went quiet, her jaw clenched tightly and her eyes narrowing at your form as the two of you got back to base. 
And even now as you walked towards the door to your room, you felt anger bubbling within your tummy due to the fall out between the two of you. Just as your hand touched the cool metal of the knob, you felt two warm hands rest on your waist. 
Your brows furrowed out of confusion, although you knew who was touching you just by the weight of their hands. 
Spinning to face her, you push Abby’s hands away and let a deep frown settle onto your lips. You offer her no words, simply taking her in as she stands before you. 
She looks tired, frustration etched into her features as she gazes down at you.
“What the fuck was all that today?” she questions, her anger showing despite the quietness of her voice. She’s keeping it down as per usual, never wanting anyone to even notice the two of you interacting beyond work duties.
“You haven’t let me speak to you for weeks. I miss you, okay? I get that you’re upset with me but don’t give me the silent treatment, just tell me I fucked up and let’s move on” she pleads, her words so rushed from nerves that you barely comprehend what she has said. 
Her words only make you want to scream at her, to make a huge scene just to show her how much she has hurt you. But you push it down, keeping your voice just as low as hers is.
“I’m not going to ‘move on’ from you dating some asshole that you don’t even like. I’m tired of you using me to satisfy your own needs so find some other girl who is willing to be your dirty little secret” you mutter bitterly, glancing down to notice the way her hands were flexing as she opened them only to clench them into fists once more. 
“I don’t want to see you anymore, Abby. And don’t even think about knocking on my door when he can’t give you what you want.” you seethe, turning your back on her and entering your room without giving her time to completely process your words before you slam the door in her face. 
Abby is left wide eyed, her plush lips parted as she is left alone with your harsh words. She goes to knock on your door out of instinct but pauses, her brows furrowing as irritation and desperation make an ugly mix within her. She lowers her hand, now moving with a determined stride towards Owen’s room. 
With little to console you after the altercation, you had made the prompt decision to bury your face into your pillow and let your thoughts fade away as you fell into a dreamless sleep. It was comfortable, being so detached from everything around you even if it was only for a little while. 
However, any solace you had found was ripped from your hands as a heavy knock sounds on the door. A low groan sounds throughout your small room as you blindly move your hand onto the side table to try and find the lamp. 
Once the light switches on, another loud knock can be heard, the door shaking from the force. The second knock makes you rush towards the door, unsure of what to expect but believing it to be urgent. 
That is until you swing open the door, the dimly lit hallway showing you a very broken down Abby. Her braid has become messy and loose, her eyes red rimmed and glassy. She looks like a kicked puppy, so lost and scared. 
“I broke up with him, okay? It’s done, I swear” she blurts out breathlessly, not even giving you the chance to speak. The information takes a while to set in, the cogs in your mind slowly turning as you realize what she had said. 
It was over. She was yours and only yours now. 
It’s hard to speak as you try to process everything, leaving Abby with an aching silence. Tears begin to roll down her rosy cheeks, a pitiful whine emitting from her. 
“I know you’re probably still mad but please let me stay. You don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to, that’s fine. I just— I can’t be alone right now” she whispers weakly, taking a step closer to you so that she is standing inside your room. 
She sounds absolutely pathetic and you can’t help but relish in this moment, her pain making up for all you had gone through these last few weeks. You let her come inside, simply shutting your door as a sign that she can stay for the night. 
But you’re toying with her, knowing exactly where all these pent up emotions are coming from. You don’t let her get too close, as you want to see just what she wants from you. 
“Thank you, thank you” she breathes, relieved to at least be welcome in your room once more. Her shaky hand pushes back her hair to soothe herself, the ache in her body worsening as she realizes you’re wearing the smallest pair of pajama shorts she has ever seen. 
It’s enough to leave her feeling dizzy, her eyes flickering back up to meet your own. “You look absolutely perfect” she mumbles, no tears to be found as she feels countless weeks worth of energy beginning to boil over. 
Her words make you feel all warm inside, as you know she is all yours now. You need her just as much as she needs you but you are unwilling to confess that just yet. 
So you give her a soft hum of acknowledgment at her words, simply turning away and mindlessly rearranging your bed, purposely bending over so your shorts ride up just enough for her to see your panties. 
Abby is falling apart in your hands, her eyes lingering on your ass far too long. She had spent these last few weeks picturing you just like this, her fingers buried in her cunt as she got off to the thought of you. 
But now here you were in all your glory, and she wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass. With a few quick steps, she is behind you, your back pressing against her chest as she pins you down against the bed with ease. 
“What the fuck” you huff, your brows furrowing as you try to squirm out of her grasp but to no avail. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, can’t you see that?” she whispers, her arms being wrapped around you so tight, scared that you would leave her at any moment. 
Seconds after she speaks, her hips begin rocking against you, desperately humping your ass like a woman who had been deprived of something holy for so long. The warmth of her body combined with her little pleas makes you let out a soft moan, breathy and barely there but just enough to let Abby know that you are enjoying this. 
“Jesus, Abs. M’ not going anywhere, calm down” you mutter, your words broken up by how harshly she is rubbing up against you, her movements displaying just how needy she is. Her hold on you doesn’t budge, simply focusing on your scent and how warm you feel against her. 
She shakes her head feverishly, her breath warm against the back of your neck. “Need to touch you, missed you so much” she breathes frantically, as if she were in some sort of frenzy that could only be soothed by touching you. 
The way she rubs up against you has your core aching, desperate for relief that only Abby could give you. “Missed you too, fuck” you huff, trying to be the one in power but failing miserably. Even in her desperate state, Abby finds a way to keep you dumb for her, your mind only filled with thoughts of her giving you the relief you have been craving for so long. 
Your confession blows up Abby’s ego a massive amount, her nerves dissipating since she knew the misery she felt without you was shared between the two of you. 
“Yeah, baby? You have a funny way of showing it. You’ve been such a little brat, avoiding me and not letting me touch you at all” she grunts, the rocking of her hips faltering as her mind is flooded with a need to be closely connected with you. 
“M’ sorry” you huff, still a little frustrated by her previous actions which meant you were unable to be empathetic towards her. Abby pays you no mind as she stops grinding against you completely, helping you get back into an upright position by pulling you by your arms. 
“Can you get on the bed for me, sweet girl?” she asks hopefully, unsure if you would even agree to what she wanted to do. Much to her surprise, you nod your head slightly and crawl onto your bed so you can make yourself comfortable. 
Your chest heaves with anticipation, watching Abby’s every move to try and figure out what she wanted to do. After taking off her boots and setting them off to the side, she gets on the bed, her large frame being rather intimidating as she spreads your legs open so that she can settle between them. 
She’s laying on her tummy, nuzzling her cheek against your inner thigh affectionately as she keeps her gaze focused on you. “Can I taste you, angel? Been thinking about your cunt so much, need to see her again” she mutters, sounding borderline delirious just from the idea of being able to lap at you like a woman starved. 
“Mmph, just a little” you say after a moment of thinking, wanting to remind her that being able to touch you like this was a privilege that only you could give her. A pleased grin appears on her lips as you give her permission, nodding her head eagerly. 
“Thank you, thank you” she breathes out, pressing a few open mouthed kisses to your inner thighs that leave you aching for more. “Gonna make you feel so good, need to make you come” she hums as she backs up, hooking her fingers under your little shorts along with your panties in one swift movement. 
You feel so exposed to her, finding the feeling only adds to your arousal. Abby takes a moment to consider her options before she decides on exactly how she wants to do this. 
She uses her thumb to rub soothing circles on your hips, her expression warm and comforting. “Need you to sit on my face, doll. I wanna feel all of you, want to taste all of you. Is that okay?” she questions in a pleading manner, as if she would burst into tears if you were to deny her. 
The request makes your heartbeat a little faster, knowing that Abby can barely contain herself whenever she is eating you out. But after weeks of going without her attention, you’re just as needy as she is. 
“It’s okay with me, just wanna feel good” you whine, unable to mask your excitement now that she was soothing you completely. She takes notice of how eager you are and decides to make it her personal mission to make you come until she’s decided you’ve had enough. 
“Sweet thing, so eager” she coos, giving your hip a gentle pat as a sign for you to start switching positions. You are quick to follow her command, moving out of the way so she can lay down flat on her back. She waits for you to move, glancing at you only to find that you’ve yanked off your t-shirt, the sight of you alone pulling a porn worthy moan from her. 
“That’s a good girl” she praises, so pleased that you were completely bare while she remained clothed, as it only reinforced the control she felt she had over you. Shakily, you begin to move up the bed so that you can get into the proper placement. 
With your hands holding onto the wall in front of you for stability, you manage to straddle Abby’s head so that she can stare directly up at your heat. “So fucking pretty” she practically pants as she sees you in all your glory, her strong hands grasping your hips with a bruising grip. 
It’s not as if you minded, as whenever she decided to show off her strength you found yourself completely enamored. “You sure this is okay, Abs? Don’t wanna hurt you…” you trail off slightly, not wanting her to be unable to breathe or anything like that. 
“Baby, if I die with you sitting on my face, I will die doing what I love” she quips in a playful manner, wanting to help you relax. Her words make you smile in the slightest bit, the tension that coursed through your body now melting away. 
“Shut up” you mutter playfully, her teasing remark making your tummy flutter. “As you wish” she states quickly, not giving any explanation before she pulls your hips down onto her face. 
It’s a bit of a shock to feel her gentle licks against your pussy, a low gasp being pulled from you as warmth spreads throughout your lower half. She’s being messy on purpose, now licking long stripes up and down your cunt, pausing for a moment to messily kisses your clit before moving her tongue lower. 
The sensation is enough to make you tremble, your hands weakly grasping at the wall as you try to stay upright. “Jus’ like that” you moan out, your folds so slick that Abby can’t stop herself from moaning due to the complete mess you’re making on her. 
Your statement entices her to work harder, now tonguing as your slit to test the waters. The position is almost too perfect, her nose bumping against your clit while she obscenely slurps up all your arousal. 
With the pleasure being doubled, you find yourself unable to keep your eyes open any longer, now squeezing them shut as you let ecstasy course through your being. Broken up moans leave your lips as you practically hump her face, needing her nose to rub up against your clit just a little more. 
There are no complaints from Abby, as it let her know that you were feeling good. She dips her tongue into your entrance, fucking her tongue so deep into you that you swear it’s almost better than when she fucks you open on her thick fingers. 
“Jesus Christ, s’ too much” you say after a string of pitiful mewls, your hips stuttering against her as the pleasure begins to reach its peak. She couldn’t care less, as she needed her fix of you or she might actually lose her mind. 
Your scent consumes her whole being, you taste heavy on her tongue. It’s enough to make her ravenous, now using her firm grip on your hips to guide your movements so that you don’t have to do it by yourself. Her tongue continues to stretch you open, fucking you at a rhythmic pace that keeps pace with the way she is rocking your hips against her. 
In a complete daze, you grope your tits, trying to pretend it’s her hands instead just to maximize the goodness of the feeling. And it truly works, as all the pleasure combines to make something completely blinding and overpowering. 
It’s everything you’ve been craving since you began avoiding her and now it’s all yours. 
“Abs, gonna come, you gotta slow down” you whine, your lungs burning from the amount of effort it takes to breathe in properly. Your pleas don’t discourage her at all, as all she chooses to focus on is that you are about to get off just from her tongue. 
So she keeps her firm pace, burying her face into your cunt as if it were a sanctuary that only belonged to her. It’s all too much, the way you can feel her spit coating your folds and you can only imagine how soaked the lower half of her face must be. 
You can only whine as she refuses to yield and so you find yourself rubbing teasing circles against your hardened buds, trying to match her timing. And within a moment or two, you let out an incomprehensible string of words, moaning so loud that you knew others on the base will be talking about the two of you tomorrow.
You couldn’t care less, too focused on the way the band that had tightened in your tummy had finally snapped and left you feeling euphoric. Your cunt clenches around Abby’s tongue as you come, a low whine leaving her as she feels your gummy walls tighten up even further. 
You ride it out, practically bouncing against her since it was hard to move properly even with her help. But it all becomes overwhelming so quickly that you raise your hips the best you can, Abby’s hold on you fading away since she knew you needed time to recover. 
After carefully changing your position, you lay down beside her, your breathing still being labored and you can’t help but smile at how much Abby is panting alongside you. The stickiness between your thighs doesn’t bother you much, much more focused on the girl who was lying beside you. 
You turn onto your side, facing her enough so that you can give her a sweet kiss. You can still taste yourself on hee tongue, shivers coursing through your form as she eagerly kisses you back. It’s lazy and messy, both of you being so tired out. So you let her tongue glide against yours, moaning against her lips before she gently bites your lower lip. 
She pulls away after she gets a small whine from you, a grin spreading onto her features. She is completely different from how she came into your room earlier, her eyes dazed and her whole being practically radiating warmth. You were glad to see the change, as after all that the two of you had been through, you both deserved some relief. 
“You’re a mess” you state playfully, noticing that her nose and mouth were completely coated with your slick. “Good” she quips, swiping her thumb against her chin to gather up some of your leftover juices and pushing the digit into her mouth to suck it clean. 
The sight leaves you feeling flustered yet strangely proud that she finds the taste of you to be so pleasing. You press your naked body against her, needing some comfort after everything that went down today. 
She is quick to wrap you up in her arms, not even caring if you make a mess on her clothes. “You did so good, baby. You’re all mine” she hums soothingly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head as you hide your face against her chest. 
You don’t reply, simply wanting to let her words sink in and make you feel safe once more. Abby would never force you to speak, especially when she can tell you’re so sensitive and tired. It’s as if the two of you are having your first time together once more, but this time had much more being for both of you. 
A comfortable silence falls between the two of you as she mindlessly traces shapes along your back to keep you at ease. But she just can’t help herself, not when she has been aching to make you come multiple times. 
“You still got my strap, angel? I think you can take a little more, hm?” she questions, her voice low and soft. The suggestion has your eyes going wide, always amazed by her stamina. You were more than eager to comply, raising your head so you can nod quickly. 
“Gonna fuck you nice and stupid so you can sleep well” she states calmly, as if it were the most natural statement ever. With the way it rolls off her tongue with ease, you can almost convince yourself that it is normal. 
A lazy grin crosses your features as you take in the idea of her burying her thick strap into your cunt. “S’ still in the closet— if you wanna…” you whisper timidly, suddenly feeling shy under her persistent gaze. 
“Of course I want to, sweet girl. Tonight is all about you, I swear” she states smoothly, giving you a quick kiss as she begins to get up to search for exactly what she needs. 
Although you’re in for a long night, you couldn’t be more excited to be sharing it with her. 
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kaysungshine · 2 months
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Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full
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Part II out now!
{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)
{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end
{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?
{ WC } - 6.7k
{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol
{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!
{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡
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It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.
"Finally, what kept you so late?"
You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.
You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.
Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.
"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."
"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.
You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.
Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.
It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.
"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.
"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.
"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.
You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."
"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.
"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.
Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."
"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."
Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."
This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."
Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."
You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."
"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."
You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.
"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.
"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.
"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.
"Deal." You say. 
You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.
Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.
He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.
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You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.
Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 
You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.
It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 
Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.
As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 
You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.
But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.
There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.
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You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?
Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.
He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.
To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."
"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.
"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."
"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.
"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.
Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.
"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"
He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."
He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.
"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.
"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.
"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"
"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.
"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.
Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."
He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."
"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.
"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"
You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.
"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."
He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.
"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"
"Green, my entire head green."
"That would look interesting." You laugh.
You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.
However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.
"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"
"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.
Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 
You think you could listen to him laugh all day.
You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."
Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"
"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.
He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."
The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.
Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.
Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 
"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."
"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.
When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?
You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."
The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?
"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.
You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."
Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.
"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 
"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.
"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.
"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.
"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.
Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.
"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.
"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.
"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 
You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.
"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.
You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.
Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."
"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.
The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.
You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.
"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.
"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."
"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.
Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.
"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 
"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"
He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."
"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.
"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.
"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"
Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."
"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.
"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.
"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."
"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.
"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.
"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.
Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."
Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?
Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.
"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"
"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."
Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.
"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."
Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.
You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.
"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.
"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"
This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.
He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.
Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.
"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.
It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"
He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."
He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"
"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.
"What's one of your kinks?"
You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.
"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.
You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.
"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.
"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.
"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.
"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 
"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.
"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 
You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.
He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."
"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.
"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."
"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.
"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.
You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.
You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.
But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.
Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.
"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.
"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.
Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."
"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."
"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.
When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.
Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.
"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.
Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"
Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.
More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.
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Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?
"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.
He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."
You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.
You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.
You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.
It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...
He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."
You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.
Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.
You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.
Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.
When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.
"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.
You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.
He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.
You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.
Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.
He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.
Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"
His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."
Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."
With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.
Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.
"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 
And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.
"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.
He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.
"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.
Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.
"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.
Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.
Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.
He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."
All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 
So instead you say, "Okay."
Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 
"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.
You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.
You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.
Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.
"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.
And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.
"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.
You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."
"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."
Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.
"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.
You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"
He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."
You smack him again, a little harder this time.
"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.
You knew that wasn't all, "And?"
"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."
"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.
"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."
You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."
"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"
With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.
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When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.
You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.
You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.
You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.
"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"
You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.
Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.
You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.
You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.
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Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡
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alexackrman · 1 year
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I turned 23 on Wednesday, I bleached my hair blonde, I bought two new skirts and did my nails… y’all I really am in love with this man 🥹
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