#they do friendships so goddamn bad on this show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peterthepark · 2 years

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𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, dom!eddie, bratty!reader, squirting, anal play, angry jealous sex, garage sex, throatfucking, angst, aftercare, fluffy ending

summary: following the events of good boy, eddie finds himself conflicted about your relationship. when he catches a case of the jealousy bug, eddie just has to show you how much you actually mean to him.

note: thank you for the love on good boy! this can be read as a oneshot, but i do highly recommend reading its predecessor here!

Eddie is on cloud fucking nine. He can’t get enough of you. Not really. Five out of his seven days are spent in the fantasyland that is the suburban neighborhood of Hawkins, the remaining two saved for warm nights downtown together — wind in your hair as you’d lean out the window of the van that has become a near-second home, tired eyes shut in bliss, Eddie’s hand on your thigh or, occasionally, your smaller hand on his.

Kisses at the red-light. Kisses at a stop sign. Kisses when Eddie has to pull over to the side of the highway after you’d arch a brow and let the words “road head?” spill from your mischievous, grinning lips.

You insatiable girl, he’d growl out.

To which, you’d reply: My good boy.

There’s something different in your friendship — or, relationship? He doesn’t know what this is, but he knows that it’s real. And maybe that’s what confuses him the most, that this arrangement lives outside of those stark white-picket fences, more than just hot afternoons on the yard or late evenings inside the back of the van. Still just as perfect as the day he looked at you, really looked at you.

Mine?

He can’t call you that. But he can call you a plethora of things. Sweetheart. Laid out on the hood of your car or back arching against crumpled blankets, knees tucked to your hickey-tattered breasts as Eddie sinks his cock into your puffy cunt after three already tantalizing rounds, he’ll call you sweetheart then. Baby. Your mouth bobbing up and down his shaft, tears blurring your vision as Eddie shoves your stubborn head further, the light curls of his happy trail tickling your nose as you spend minutes of torturous pleasure gagging wetly around his base and balls till you can’t breathe, he’ll whimper out a desperate baby then.

Honey. Babe. Slut. Minx. Doll. Angel.

Eddie can call you many things, but he cannot call you his. Just as you cannot call him yours, as much as he dreams of you doing so. As much as he’d let you. You wouldn’t even need to ask.

But maybe there’s hope for him. After all, you couldn’t possibly just be fucking him just to fuck him, right?

Or perhaps, is he that stupid for thinking he actually stands a legitimate chance with the girl next door? In an arrangement that consisted more than fucking, than meeting at night, than sneaking out behind your parents’ back because he’s a bad rap?

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins who deserves dates at Enzo’s rather than quick stops at twenty-four hour diners, who deserves more than rusty vans and makeshift beds in the backseat, who deserves more than stick-and-poke tattoos and drugstore cologne. The girl next door who deserves more than a metalhead who works at a record store and lives in a goddamn trailer park.

Eddie is eternally fucked.

He is also even more eternally fucked because he knows there’s a large part of him that can’t even fathom the idea of you with another guy. Another boy who’d spent five out of his seven days with you in the suburbs. Another boy who’d act like he knew your body as well as Eddie did — and Eddie knows your body, knows how much pressure you need on your clit to cum, knows what kind of kisses makes you desperately press your tits against his chest, knows how to angle your leg just above your head so he can hit that favorite gushy spot, knows how to calm you down with snacks and beer after just one orgasm or three.

He can feel the last weeks of summer dwindling down.

Yet, the sun is still attuned to a blinding wash of golden, the birds loud, grass still greener on this side of Hawkins.

And you still take Eddie’s breath away everytime you walk down that front porch. Denim shorts, a studded belt that’s actually become yours more than his, a black Corroded Coffin tank and that damned pair of red Chucks… but yeah, you’re totally not his girlfriend.

So why is he seething at the visual of you bent over the hood of your car, sudsy sponge in hand as you scrub at your new Corvette while Steve fucking Harrington hovers around you like an irritating fly around forbidden fruit?

Except, is it forbidden if he knows exactly how it tastes?

Fuck. Eddie’s fist clenches around the steering wheel of his van, knuckles turning alabaster as you make — what he assumes — a variation of your witty one-liners that causes Steve to throw his head back in a booming laugh, so loud that it echoes through the bustling streets of young children riding their bikes and playing hopscotch.

You’re funny. But not that funny.

Eddie knows you’re allowed to have friends. He knows that. He also knows that Steve Harrington isn’t a threat. They’re buddies for Ozzy’s sake, but could you even blame him?

Harrington, who was the star of the highschool basketball team. Harrington, who lives two blocks down in a fancy two-story house with a fucking pool. Harrington, who’s popular with all the ladies and has charisma like a true gentleman. Harrington, who is the definition of Hawkins’ beloved boy next door.

And what a perfect pair you two could be if Eddie just removed himself from the equation.

“Boo!”

You slam your palm against the van’s windshield, chuckling heartily with crossed arms as Eddie jumps at the sudden disturbance. There’s a youthful crinkle by your eyes, lashes fluttering wildly against your cheeks as the dark-haired brunette scoffs at you and cranks the window down with a flexing jaw. “The hell, Y/N…”

You giggle at the slight twinge of irritation in Eddie’s tone of voice, wringing your fingers together against your stomach as you playfully narrow your eyes at him accusingly. “Were you spying on us, Munson?” A gasp falls from your rose-tinted lips. “And here I was thinking we finally got over that phase.”

Bashfully, he massages the nape of his neck. “Well, when you’re bending over the hood like that…”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” You fire back immediately, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you regard him affectionately with a knowing smirk. “Am I under… arrest for just trying to clean my oh-so-dirty car?” Your face scrunches into a theatrical worry, “Damnit, will I be serving time, mister?”

Maybe you are that funny.

“You really wanna hear the damage?” Eddie winces, slowly reaching over and tucking a wisp of hair behind your ear, bright dopey irises following the movement of your pursed lips. “Tsk, it’s not looking good for you, ma’am. Five years on one count of bribery. Another five on one count of indecent exposure. Under the state of sex and drugs, I hereby must declare you guilty of all two counts, miss Y/N. Behind bars you go!”

You bite your tongue, the muscle poking from between your front teeth as you prop your forearm up on the window and rest your chin on it. He could absolutely kiss you right now. Kiss you in front of Harrington. Kiss you in front of the whole damn town and make his worries all go away. Kiss you until the entire universe knows you’re his.

“You won’t even let me make a statement?” You whisper airily, voice rasping through your permanent fixture of a giddy smile as you hold Eddie’s gaze, tiptoeing so that your level with his eyes.

“Another three for coercion, woman.”

“So it’s working, then?” You quirk your head at him curiously, lips twitching with excitement. “And since when were you… so in tune with the law, Eds?”

He brushes a relaxed knuckle over your cheek. “Never said I was, sweetheart. Just on the watch for dangerous girls like you, yeah? Total heartbreakers.”

That shuts you up.

Eddie’s heart blossoms at your falter, the slight part in your lips as a shaky sigh leaves you and fills the intimate air. It’s warranted — given that you’ve been nonstop fuck buddies for the past couple months already. There hasn’t been a day where he hasn't touched you in some heated, loving manner. Although, maybe you’re confusing loving with sensual. Who knows?

You step back, recovering from your flustered speechlessness before you’re making a beeline for your car. “You gonna come out and say hi, Metallica? Or are you just gonna keep watchin’ from there?”

And to Eddie’s dismay, Steve is still propped against the side of your Corvette, honey eyes squinting past the sunlight as he watches the metalhead finally take reluctant steps to your driveway.

“Hey, man! What’s up?” He wants to play friendly? Oh, he’ll play friendly then. Steve claps a gentle hand against Eddie’s shoulder, grinning widely. “You taking Dustin to the arcade today, or am I?”

“Nah, nah. I just…” Eddie clears his throat awkwardly, stuffing his clammy palms into his back pockets with one eye shut. “… was in the area. Wanted to, uh, you know… just drop off some records for Y/N. Huge sale at the store today.”

“Yeah? Shit, might stop by.”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.”

Totally not.

The conversation doesn’t get much better from there. In fact, Steve nearly ignores him for the rest of the time being as the yellow-shirt fiend follows you around your car like a dumb, lost puppy. Eyes drifting over the sweaty back of your neck as you reach over the hood, tongue darting out to lick his lips as you mindlessly wipe at the soap on your arms or your legs while chatting him up.

Eddie knows desire and he sees it clear as the goddamn day on Harrington’s stupid face. He knows his friend means no harm, that this — whatever this is — is far from a competition, just two guys with a similar admiration for a pretty, smart-mouthed girl.

Fuck off, man. Anyone but her.

Eventually, Steve leaves. Something about Robin still not having her license and needing a ride to this girl’s house. But his stay lingers for more than it should and god, is it painful to watch. A quick, cheeky hug, arms encircling your waist. A blushing cheek nuzzling the top of your head. A giggly whisper to your ear that makes you laugh hard into his neck. A soft exchange of ‘I’ll see you soon.’ and ‘Call me, Y/N.’

You pull the garage door down behind you.

And somehow, you’re still able to turn to Eddie and look at him as if that whole interaction wasn’t a total slap in the face. Hands on your hips as you approach him, sponge discarded on the roof of the car, dimples tugging at your cheeks as you lean beside him — almost nostalgic as the first day you spoke — and cross your ankles out in front of you with a questioning tilt of your head.

“You’re quiet.” Your elbow nudges him. “That’s a first.”

He scoffs exasperatedly under his breath, fiddling with the chain across his belt loops with a self-wallowing shrug. “Mm, well, there wasn’t much room for me to talk back there.”

You watch him, smile fading awkwardly as you pick at your nails. “Okaaay, um…”

“I had no idea that you and Steve were even close. Let alone… talked to each other. I mean, should’ve… should’ve expected it given you two live in this fairytale bubble together.” He laughs, dry and far from genuine.

There’s a heavy, uncomfortable tension that hangs in the air. Wafting between the two of you. Filling the empty gap between your anxious bodies. It irks you. His tone, the dull edge of it. The screech of nails against chalkboard.

You itch at the bridge of your nose, glancing away when Eddie turns to look at you. “We’re just friends. Always have been.”

Always have been. He should have known. Always have been — even when you were fucking, even when he took you to those diners and searched for you backstage at his tiny gigs, even when he taught you how to drive in his janky van, even when he made all those mixtapes for you.

All of that just to get an always have been, while Eddie himself remains a never will be.

“Fuck…” He chuckles venomously, wiping his hands on his thighs as he storms off towards the garage, while you follow hot behind his aggravated trail. “Okay, Y/N.”

Why did he ever get his hopes up?

“Is there — hey, what is your goddamn problem, Eddie?” You pull at his shoulder, scowling as he pries himself away from your touch like you’ve burned him. It baffles you, eyebrows falling in a blunt unfathomable line as Eddie sends you a look that can only mean: don’t. Don’t what? Don’t care? Don’t talk to me? Don’t speak? “What’s gotten into you? We were fine earlier, no?”

“I dunno, you tell me.”

“I-Is this about Harrington? Eddie, I don’t even know why you’re upset… listen, me and Steve are literally just friends, I told you before and I’m telling you again.” A dry laugh slips out of you, “There’s just — we share a lot in common, okay? He lives, like, just down the road, we were in sixth grade together, our parents get along, he — get this — he likes The Cure, and it’s just… we just work. Friends, end of story.”

“And us?”

“Us.” You repeat. Borderline incredulous. Perplexed. “I’m so confused right now. Hold on—“

“What does all… that make us?” Eddie turns quickly on his heels, closing the gap between the two of you as he gestures passionately with raised brows, lips tugging into a poisonous laugh. “Because it sounds like we’re just having fun and wasting each other’s time, Y/N.”

You gape at him, widening your eyes and tilting your chin up in defiance. “Isn’t that exactly what we’re fucking doing?” You snarl, canines on display as you poke at his sternum. He inhales deeply, watching the ferocity in your gaze heighten. “I don’t know if you’ve ever realized, but I am not your girlfriend, not some fantasy that—“

“Don’t.” He interrupted with a growling snap, your ego rising progressively with the determination to defend yourself.

“You can use to escape…”

“Really? Christ, really? What, like you haven’t been playing pretend with me either? When you have this — this perfect life with a perfect car and your perfect prince charming and your perfect neighborhood.” Eddie drawls mockingly, stretching the dramatics of his voice for emphasis. You hold each other’s stare, eyes coated with a film of indignation. “What’s the perfect girl next door wanna do with me anyways…”

Your face falls, breath hitching in your throat as you feel your chest tighten immensely. “You’re being mean, Eds.”

“Open your eyes, Y/N!” He retaliates with a menacing step forward, head tipping to watch the flicker of emotions across your daunting features. “You basically said it yourself. That Steve has everything that I-I don’t and if that’s what you want…”

“Is that what you really think of me?”

Oh.

He’s hurt you.

In an effort to spew out all of his own doubts, his feelings, his insecurities, Eddie wounded you. Had he not realized the weight of his words? The loaded gun he had been waving around all this time, letting himself snap only for you to get caught in the crossfire of his (valid) fears? He’s fucked up. Royally. And judging by the quiver in your bottom lip, the welling tears of frustration in your eyes, the bitter frown that’s taken over your once sweet-smile, he’s struck a bad nerve.

A harsh blizzard in the summertime. A rainy day while the sun shines. A thunderstorm amongst a blue sky. Beauty in the madness.

Even when you’re angry, you devastate him.

“Sweetheart…”

You keep him at arm’s length. Guarded. Distant. The walls he had been so eager to break at the beginning of summer had rebuilt themselves right in front of him without difficulty as you looked away, pained. “Don’t sweetheart me.”

“I got… listen, I got carried away back there and I just…”

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

All clarity has left his head. He’s too far gone into this, too deep into the grave he dug for himself, six feet under and somehow he still keeps digging and digging.

What’s a little more salt to an already open wound?

Eddie stalks over towards you with a chilling swiftness, invading your personal space and trapping you against the hood of your car. “Fuck me, huh? Yeah, cause that’s what you do best, Y/N.” He repeats sarcastically, the words dripping from his quirked lips and seeping into the warmth of your skin.

His voice holds a rasp to it, one that makes your body react in ways that are neither appropriate or helpful. Get a goddamn grip.

“Yeah? Sorry, am…” You challenge, feeling Eddie’s body drive into yours. Can’t get distracted. Can’t. It’s wrong, especially when your argument is — oh, he’s hard. His erection throbs against your thigh, stiff denim pressing against naked skin. “… am I the one who’s too pussy to put a label on whatever the hell this is?”

“I’m the pussy?” He pushes. You push back. “Says the spoiled little princess who has to sneak out at night because she’s scared mommy and daddy are gonna find out she’s been messing around with someone other than prince charming.” He bites out cruelly. “Who’s the pussy now?”

No backing out this time.

“And yet, you seem to have a lotta trouble staying away from a tight, wet cunt and a girl who’ll suck you off.”

“Oh, fuck off, Y/N.” The heavy aggression makes the hairs on your arms prickle, the inherent awareness that Eddie has you trapped, nowhere to escape this poisonous confrontation, makes you squeeze your thighs together.

He exhales raggedly, recovering from the large blow that you just threw at him.

“Did I stutter?”

He blinks at you. “You’re a real sweetheart, you know that?” You almost growl, a cruel laugh slipping past your lips in an effort to say — don’t even try me, but Eddie’s turning you around forcefully and bending you at the waist with a hand between your shoulder blades, the other hovering over your ass before you can even say anything. “A tight cunt, huh? Is that what you wanna be? Just a tight, wet cunt for me to use whenever I fucking want because I’m — what was it again? — too pussy to put a label on this?”

“Munson, don’t you fucking—“ You glare at him over your shoulder, gasping as he tugs your shorts down and warms his palm over your outer thigh, leisurely bringing it over a soft ass cheek before a loud, erotic slap fills the garage.

The surprised moan that leaves your body betrays you.

The fucking audacity of him to spank you? After all of that? After everything you just spewed at each other?

Eddie fucking laughs in your ear, studying the way you take your fleshy bottom lip between your teeth and a wave of embarrassment floods your face. “I bet you’re soaked right now. Bet you’re getting off on how upset I am with you, sweetheart. That’s kinda fucked up, don’t you think?” His knee nudges itself between your thighs, the cool edge of the car digging into your stomach while a familiar needy heat fills your cunt. “Yeah, I fucking know you.”

He knows you.

You stand your ground, holding your nose up high even as he sensually traces the lacy trim of your panties with haunting fingertips. “M’not your s-sweetheart. Or your princess, you know.”

He hums, nodding his head slowly as he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “Oh, you’re not? M’not my little slut either then, huh?” He strikes you again, your bruised hips jerking forward against the hood with a subdued whimper, palms splaying out helplessly on the metal beneath you as you thrash in his grasp. Your ass stings with every strike to your cheeks, reddened and sore with the force of his wide open palm. “Insatiable fuckin’ girl, how much more can you take? How much more till you realize how much I… fuck…”

Till you realize what?

A gasp rips right out of your throat when he roughly pulls your panties down the swell of your ass. His hands come to spread your thighs to reveal the slick between your folds, a testament to your hidden arousal as another slap comes down to your puffy lips, leaving his palm wet and shiny.

You muffle your merciful whining with a groan, knowing full well that you shouldn’t be enjoying this, this stupid fucking foreplay, this stupid masculine show of dominance, being turned on shouldn’t have even crossed your mind in the first place.

Men.

You jeer at him over your shoulder, teeth baring like an animal when he grabs onto a fistful of your hair, arching your back up from the car as he mocks your own gasps against your ear. “Very mature of you.“

“I’m not the one who’s practically dripping on my thigh right now, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, your cock seems pretty happy to see it.”

Eddie shoves you back down onto the hood, releasing his suffocating hold on your hair with a disgruntled hum. You push your ass back against his erection, feeling him grip your waist harshly for leverage.

You must be purple all over, darkest at where he bruises you. Not that you’d complain. He’s done worse.

“Fuck, s-stop that, Y/N.”

“Taste of your own medicine.”

“Stop it.”

“You literally spanked me.” You bite out while he takes a painful hold of your wrists, twisting you to face him despite your struggling efforts. He’s seething, messy bangs cascading in front of his face as he looks down at you through long lashes, jaw clenched visibly. “You spanked me, Eddie.”

Yet god, does he look good.

But, no. You’re furious. You’re bubbling with absolute distaste for the boy in front of you. So angry, that you can’t help but scowl as your own hands fly out towards his heavy buckle, chains jingling against his thigh as your dexterous fingers undo his belt.

His nose nudges desperately against yours, panting against your parted wet lips as you roughly press your forehead to his with a pained expression. “How is it you can be a total asshole but I still…” You speak through gritted teeth, cut off by a guttural groan from Eddie when you reach into his boxers and take his velvety, stiffening cock into your hand. “… still want to fuck the shit out of you?”

“Y-Yeah?” He cups your cheek, firmly dragging his thumb down your bottom lip and watching it bounce back into its natural place. “Fuck, too stubborn to even say you want me.” He dips his finger between your lips, studying the way your cheeks hollow out instantly to suck the digit, your warm tongue coating it in thick, stringy saliva with a muffled moan.

There, you see a piece of the kind metalhead you met that one summer day.

You nip at his thumb, smiling when he hisses at the sensation and pulls away. “I’m already getting on my goddamn knees, Munson. Just shut the fuck up and let me do what I want.”

“Always doing what she wants… typical.”

“This is the part where you say...” You sink to the concrete, looking up at him with narrowed eyes as you tug his pants all the way down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for being a fuckin’ dick who doesn’t know the first thing about communication.” You shove his boxers down to his ankles, nipping at his thighs before you’re running your wet lips across the side of his shaft with a whiny, teasing drawl. “I’m so sorry for getting absolutely mad at you for no goddamn reason. I’m sorry for calling you a spoiled brat. I’m sorry for putting you up on a stupid fucking pedestal. I’m sorry for assuming that you and Steve can’t be more than—“

“Okay, you’re done here, sweetheart.” Eddie grips the base of your head, ruthlessly pulling your mouth down onto his cock with a throaty grunt. You gag from the sudden sensation, eyes welling up immediately as he wriggles himself snug between your lips. “C-Christ, you’re perfect like this. Mmm, fuck. Fuckkkk. Gonna fuck your face till you cry, how does — shit, how does that sound?”

And you can’t even reply. Can’t even refuse his offer (not that you wanted to anyways). Can’t even have the last word because your mouth is full of his throbbing cock, your nose buried in the heady scent of his happy trail, his heavy balls squished against your chin as you try to even out your breathing.

But, fuck, he’s big. And you’re panicking. You’d know he’d never hurt you, not even if he’s angry. It’s just… he’s so thick. And well, a mouth can only take so much, right?

Your hand darts out to catch yourself against your car as Eddie thrusts himself forward, the sloppy tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he holds your face in place — one hand cupping the underside of your chin and the other just above your forehead. “Shit, Y/N… yeah, can’t fuckin’ yap your ass off now, can you? Pretty girl with a big, talkative mouth… can’t even take my cock.”

Now, that flips a switch in you.

You grip the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer to you until a pathetic hmpf! leaves your mouth. Eddie’s just as surprised, fingers tangling themselves harshly in your hair as you bob your throat up and down. There’s spit bubbling from the corners of your lips, pre-cum dribbling down your jaw as Eddie grips onto the edge of the hood for dear life, his chin dropping to his chest in awe. You make the effort to glance up at him, nearly smiling at the visual of his furrowed eyebrows, the choked moans that echo through the garage, the pink flush that crawls up his straining neck.

There’s a good boy.

God, you’re practically dripping onto the floor.

“F-Fuck, you know just how I-I fucking like it, don’t you? Always a messy girl. Always so goddamn insatiable, jus’ takes and takes… even with my cock down your throat, I bet you want more. Fuck, never s-satisfied, are you?”

You pull off of his cock, coughing wetly for air as you jerk him slowly in your hand, tears blurring your dizzy vision.

“And yet you still don’t believe that I don’t want anyone else’s cock e-except yours, Eds?”

An unspoken translation of saying: I want you. Just you.

His gaze softens, jaw still clenched, but his eyes change. They sparkle with relief, rather than anger — his mouth purses into a resigned, close-lipped smile and before you know it, he’s tugging you back onto your feet, gingerly running his palm across your cheek, inhaling the flowery scent of your hair before you’re drowning in a heated kiss that can only mean ‘nothing matters except how bad I need you right now.’

His fingers card through your scalp, your ear resting between his forefinger and middle as you grind against each other, pumping him in your grasp as he switches between tongue and teeth and his lips and fuck—

“You’re so pretty. S-So beautiful, it makes me so fuckin’ angry.” Eddie rasps, biting down the column of your throat as he holds your face tenderly. “I don’t want anyone else but you. Just y-you. Even if you piss me the hell off.”

You chuckle in amusement, your laugh quickly transitioning into a high-pitched yelp as he suddenly picks you up and places you on the cold hood of the car, spreading your thighs apart with a warning slap to either one.

“Aw, you love me, Munson. It’s hot when you go all alpha.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Make me.”

Forcibly, he pulls your hips to the edge, dribbling a thick white glob of spit onto your messy cunt before he spreads you open with the calloused pads of his fingers. You lean back on your forearms, jaw unhinging as Eddie cooes at the embarrassing string of arousal leaking from your needy pussy all the way to your puckering asshole.

His touch is hot and heavy, marking your trembling frame with another purpling bruise as he hooks an arm under your knee and presses a kiss to your leg. “You’re damn gorgeous like this.”

“Touch it already.”

He tsks. “Insatiable.”

“I’m getting bored.”

“This isn’t gonna fucking work.” Eddie snarls under his breath, and you nearly see the frustration beading off of him as he drags you off of the hood, palms and fingers flying all over your body as he forces you onto your feet and bends you over again. You jerk forward as he buries his face between your ass cheeks, his nose nudging at your cunt while he laps at your swollen clit. His fingers keep you spread open, kneading the fat of your thighs before he’s fucking his tongue into you.

“Ah — you fucking — ah — taste delicious,” He chuckles, “You’re literally such a messy girl. Pussy already leaking with my spit.”

Your mouth falls open, nails scraping against the metal before Eddie slurps at the arousal between your folds. “F-Fuck, Eds… I’m… fuck, your mouth feels so — so good, need m-more…”

“Need more, huh?”

“Mmm.”

“Didn’t know my mouth was the key to getting you to finally shut the fuck up.” He cooes, his dominant tone exuding false pity as you rock back against his face.

“Eddie— fuckkkk…“ Your entire body lurches when his mouth drops to the tight fluttering ring of muscles above your cunt, two fingers scissoring your cunt as he dips his tongue into your ass. “Okay, fuck… that’s — that’s h-hot. E-Eddie, god… I’m… you’re…” You shudder violently, burying your face into your forearms with a pathetic laugh of disbelief, “… that’s gonna make me cum…”

“You see, that’s the fucking goal, dumbass.”

“Call me d-dumbass one more—“

“Dumbass.” You cry out as his hand comes down on the back of your thigh, leaving the skin raw and red. “Yeah, that fucking turns you on. Cum on it. Fuckin’ cum, sweet girl. You like this shit.”

Yeah.

You like it too much. But Eddie doesn’t need to hear that when you’re practicing spasming on his fingers, a warm gush trickling down the heel of his palm as your cunt swallows him all the way to his knuckles. You feel him lean over you, his chest molding to your back as you come undone for him and let out a choked sob of pleasure. He pulls you up by your throat, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you reach up to fist your hands through his hair and draw him nearer.

“Fuck — Eddie — it’s, fuck… I’m… I’m cumming, s’too g-good, f-fuck...”

He sighs blissfully, “Yeah, baby. That’s it. Ride it out. You got this.” Your moans fill the air in broken, choppy gasps and breaths, Eddie’s free hand massaging your clit as you twitch against him. “So hot when you cum, don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to it.”

Your lashes flutter wildly as he reaches up to brush your bangs back away from your forehead, tucking them behind either ear as he peers down at you.

The gesture is so tender, you and Eddie almost forget why you’re mad at each other.

He’s the first to draw in a breath, shaky and nervous.

“Hey, you with me?”

“Mm.”

A beat, then a waft of uncertainty fills the air.

“I’m… I’m sorry for, uh, spanking you.” Oh. Not what you were expecting… surprised, you start to snicker in amusement, hiding your face in his neck as he chuckles shyly. “I’m being serious, Y/N. Stop — stop laughing, it’s making me laugh.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Well, I mean… I didn’t, you know, ask you.” Eddie strokes his palm up and down your torso, hand dipping beneath your tank top. “I always ask you, like, if that kinda shit is okay. Consent and stuff.”

He sounds like a child, unsure and guilty. Struggling to find purposeful words, to make sure he’s doing this right.

“Consent and stuff…” You repeat in a smiling whisper, running your hand gently down the side of his face. You turn to face him, slinging your arms across the back of his neck. “Eddie, I liked it. Thought it was obvious.”

“It was obvious. I felt it,” He grins in return. “I just… I don’t ever want you to feel like I’m… making you do shit that you don’t want to. Like ever.”

“Never that, Eds. I feel…” I trust you. I adore you. I’m better with you. I like you. Maybe I love you. It’s only been a couple months and you’ve ruined everyone else for me. “I feel safe with you, always.” You drag your knuckles across his sharp jaw, watching the way his throat bobs when he swallows. “Are we gonna talk about the Steve thing?”

“Definitely not off the hook with that one.”

“You know that totally hurt, right? What… what happened back there?” Eddie sighs, clasping his hand on top of yours, eyelids shutting as he leans into your touch.

“Overreacted.” You hum in response, giving him a soft nod. “I just… got too into my head about all of it. Like — like seeing you with him felt like a wake-up call. As if I was… god, I don’t know. Back in school all over again, just realizing how I didn’t fit in there, and then with you since you have Harrington who’s all… preppy polos and hairspray, everyone’s fucking favorite, the goddamn equivalent to whatever the hell you are, Y/N.”

You smile sadly, realizing just how deep the extent of his frustrations are coming from. “And what am I, Eds?”

“Perfect.” Eddie whispers, his words hot against your lip like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re perfect. You… I’ve never been this obsessed over a girl before. God, it’s pathetic.” His hands find the back of your neck, and he guides your mouth onto his. “You’re the worst.”

He’s addicted to the heat of your tongue, the way your body so eagerly caves into his as he backs you up against the hood once more.

“Crazy you t-think I’d ever flirt with Harrington.” His cock hardens against the inside of your sticky thigh, the tip of him catching on the swell of your clit as he topples over you and hungrily runs his teeth along your neck. “When clearly, I have my eyes set on a whole different guy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s hands squeeze your ass harshly, gripping you impossibly closer. “What about him?”

“S’kinda the jealous type…” You gasp as he guides your fingers around his cock, pumping him once, twice, three times before he’s lining himself up with your soaked entrance. “Fuck — but it’s hot when he is… makes me wanna get him all riled up…”

“Sounds awfully familiar, sweetheart.”

“Great smile, a pretty laugh… ugh, fuck…” Your forehead falls against Eddie’s shoulder as eases himself between your folds, filling you up with his shaft until the bush of dark curls at the very base of him brushes against your clit. “A-Amazing tattoos… even better hair…”

“Better than Harrington?”

You snort, nails digging into his bicep. “Nine-hundred and ninety-nine percent better.”

A moan falls from his lips when you shift against him, cunt clenching around his prick helplessly as he stills inside and lifts your head off of him. “Couldn’t have j-just made it a thousand, hm?”

“S’cause you stink, Eds.” He carefully draws his hips back, only to thrust inside you hard and slow as lighthearted laughter rings through the air. “F-Fuck, there had to be… had to be something wrong with you, or else you’d be too…” You hiss as his thumb finds your clit, circling over the sensitive bundle of nerves before he’s hooking his other hand under your knee. “Oh, my god… don’t stop.”

“Words.” He whispers against your lips, eyebrows raising for emphasis. “C’mon, babe. Talk to me.”

A sob nearly rasps out of you when you feel his cock deep in your belly, every stroke deeper and wetter than the last. “Or else you’d be too g-good to be true. Shit, just like that. Fuck, I only want you. Fuck. Eddie—“

You cry against the incursion of his tongue — a rough, open-mouthed kiss. Riddled with frustration, with pleasure, with anger, without caution or grace, with words neither of you can really say.

“Taking m-me so well, Y/N. That’s it. You like this?” He gasps between each slam of his hips, locking you in place with a bruising hold. “You like me fucking you on this car, yeah? You insatiable girl.”

Fuck, it’s good. It’s erotic, the glistening slick of your cum sticking to the curled hair around his shaft, the shine of your thighs as you squirt around him, his teeth digging into your shoulder as his cock wedges your stubborn cunt open and spread, gaping for him as you angle your ass up to meet each sloppy, harsh stroke he gives you.

Filthy slut, stretched you open, didn’t I?

Pretty girl, you’re doing so good for me.

Your mind gets lost in his endless swirl of degradation and praise, deliciously reeling in his back and forth of calling you a whore and then calling you an angel not even a minute later as he drives into your cunt.

“Fuck. Fuck, Eds.”

“If it’s too much, I can — god, we can stop, Y/N.” He drops his head, shoulders shaking as he tries to go easy. “Jus’ say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll stop. Fuck, whatever you want.”

“No. Keep going. Please. Please. Please.” You don’t fucking care. The stretch, the sting of him, it feels almost like the first every time you have sex. “Does it look like I want you to stop?

Eddie snarls and fucks you harder. The thick head of his cock near-bruising your cervix as he punches up into you, your pleas and the sounds of skin slapping against skin ringing through your skull.

The lewd squelch of his shaft driving into your cunt turns him hysterical, and before you know it, he’s hiking you up further onto the hood of the car, grasping the hinges of your knees and forcing them against your bouncing tits.

He’s turned you into nothing but a looping mixtape of fuck-fuck-harder-please-Eddie-Eddie. And fuck, does it overfill the cup of pleasure deep in his belly.

“Baby, I’m…” Your hand reaches for his, desperate and frantic as you interlock fingers and Eddie presses reassuring kisses to each of your knuckles. “I’m gonna…”

“What’s up, hm?” He whispers gently, the sincere concern in his voice tugging at your heartstrings while your ribs rattle with another pleasurable sob. “G-Gonna cum on my cock, sweetheart? Your pussy must need it so bad, yeah? Yeah, I know. Fuck, m’gonna get you there. I’m gonna do so good for you.”

He rears back, before spearing fully into you. Sweat rolls down the side of your forehead, your back arching into Eddie’s sticky chest, his thumb slipping between your wet lips while he works your sore cunt open.

You can barely speak, torn between a fluttering consciousness and the rising warmth between your thighs that your mouth seems to move faster than your brain. “M-My good boy.”

Eddie lets out a huff.

Then, smiles as bright as the innocent, summer sun.

“Fuck yeah, mama. Cum for me. Cum on that shit.”

Your orgasm hits you before you even realize it’s coming.

Such a suffocating build-up, that you almost forget that your pleasure is a reward, your belly cramping and spasming as the walls of your cunt squeeze around Eddie’s cock.

You open your eyes as the high flows through you, and when Eddie meets your fucked-out hazy gaze, a word dangles from the tip of his tongue, burning through his throat and stabbing at his chest as he grits his teeth and restrains every part of him that wants to say: mine.

The raw claim of it. The power of such a minuscule word that implies something deeper than fucking behind closed doors and spending midnights in parking lots. Bars and motels turn into cafés and a shared apartment. Cuddling in the backs of janky old vans turns into ‘good mornings’ and ‘how’d you sleep?’ in a queen-sized bed.

Eddie realizes it now, how he’s never had something to call his. To call his own.

But then you laid out on that lawn one day and…

He’s scared, though. Horrified. You’re free-spirited, you’re open, you’re the rose and the thorns all at once, bright and optimistic and kind. And yet, he can’t risk scaring you away with something so… possessive and certain.

Instead, Eddie tightens his arms around you and thrusts deeper, slotting his mouth over your lips before he offers you a promise. The only promise that’ll give him some sort of peace, to keep him at bay in case you can’t meet him halfway.

“I’m yours.”

The words are muffled against your skin, but either way, you inhale sharply at it. Your hands fumble around Eddie’s neck, cupping him at the nape before you’re pulling him in closer and easing your mouth onto his with furrowed brows and watery eyes.

“And I’m yours.” He chokes on his moans as he strokes into you, your tongue rolling against his as you kiss him hungrily, the warm press of it taking his breath away. “I’ve always been yours.”

Eddie whimpers at that, cumming with his head buried into your shoulder. “M-Mine.”

His last desperate thrusts have you reeling, gasps and sobs being pricked out of you as Eddie fills you with his warmth. His cum slowly seeps out from your cunt when he pulls out almost too quickly for your personal liking, body falling against yours as he places a palm on the hood of the car to steady himself.

You’re sore.

Eddie takes a few moments to catch his breath, panting against your chest as you entangle your fingers at the back of his head. “I meant it…”

“What?” He exhales out, a tinge of confusion clear in his tone.

“Meant that I… I only want you. S’true.” You smile and hold him gently by the chin, picking his head up and off your shoulder. “Jus’ you, Eds.”

“Okay.”

Eddie chuckles heartily, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before he presses a kiss to your arm. “Hi, by the way.”

“Mmm. Hi, you. You feel okay?”

“Fuck, I’ve never been better honestly. Came so hard and you’re — oh, look how stretched out you are.” He hums, running a thumb up your drenched slit. A shy laugh bubbles out of him, “Should be the one asking you if you’re okay, sweetheart.”

“I’m on cloud nine. I dunno about you.”

“Baby, I’m past the damn clouds. I’m all the way up in the sky with the big man himself.” Eddie dips his digits between your folds, mewling as you jerk your hips against him. He collects the mixture of your juices on the tips of his fingers, raising it up to his lips before he’s sucking on it like his last meal. “Delicious.”

“Perv.” You duck your head, shying away from his kisses before he catches your mouth, sighing against your lips. “Do it again.”

He pauses, brown eyes glistening with adoration.

“Insatiable, I tell you.”

He helps you to your feet, hand outstretched in front of him like a proper gentleman as you wobble onto your legs, pulling your panties and shorts over your ass as Eddie mirrors your movements. He kisses you once more as soon as he’s buttoned his jeans, securing his heavy belt buckle while your teeth knock against each other.

“Eddie…”

“Yeah?”

“My carrrr.” You whine, wringing your arms around his neck as you glance back at the Corvette. “It’s all filthy again. Thanks to you, you know.”

He gasps, placing a hand over his heart while you sneak out from under him and snatch the sponge atop of the car. “Well, call me a dick then.”

“Dick.”

And before he can even see it coming, you’re throwing it at him, the sponge landing against his bicep with a loud squelch! that makes you burst into laughter. “Oh! Oh, we’re playing dirty? Okay, fuck you too, then.”

You squeal as he runs at you, soap drenching your clothes as he grabs you by the waist and squeezes the sponge over your front.

“Eddie!”

Again, Eddie Munson is eternally fucked.

But that’s okay, because not only can he call you a plethora of pretty names, he can also call you the only one that truly matters: mine.

His.

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins who — okay, sure — one hundred percent deserves dates at Enzo’s rather than quick stops at twenty-four hour diners, who deserves more than rusty vans and makeshift beds in the backseat, who deserves more than stick-and-poke tattoos and drugstore cologne. The girl next door who deserves more than a metalhead who works at a record store and lives in a goddamn trailer park.

Yet, all at once, the perfect poster girl of Hawkins who somehow likes twenty-four hour diners and the greasy food that comes with it. Who likes throwing fries at him from across the table because he still abhors The Cure and still thinks his music taste is superior.

The girl who prefers his rusty van over a regular car because the smell is comforting, and that it reminds you of a home away from home. Reminds you of your nights downtown and the really early mornings he’d spend reading Lord of the Rings to you in the back, surrounded by blankets and clothes.

The girl who demands that your first tattoo not be done by a professional, but someone with stick-and-pokes and bat tattoos on his arm. Someone who smells like cedar and wood, gasoline and a fresh pack of cigarettes. Steady hand or not, as long as it’s done by him.

The girl next door who loves the metalhead that works at the record store and lives in a cozy trailer park.

So yeah, maybe Eddie is eternally fucked.

But at least you’re by his side through it all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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spocktheestallion · 2 years

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for a tragedy the iliad is pretty funny. compiled some of my favorite things about it (not in chronological order)

- patroclus barely speaks for most of the book but EVERYBODY loves him. like he’s literally the entire greek camp’s precious meow meow. the ORIGINAL sweet little meow meow. even the GODS are sad and feel bad when he dies. even HOMER loves patroclus, always calling him “faultless patroclus” “my patroclus” “gentle patroclus” “sweet patroclus” WE GET IT. achilles, briseis, menelaus, ajax, literally every member of the greek camp is down ATROCIOUS for patroclus all bc he’s just one Really Nice Dude. just one very Sweet and Polite Fella. one Extra Special Guy <3 his whole narrative purpose is simply to be everyone’s special little scrunkly

- in one of the MANY passages where achilles is lamenting about how sad it is that patroclus is dead he promises patroclus’ corpse that he will have many deep-bosomed trojan and dardanian women weep for him. he tells his dead buddy “i will get the absolute THICKEST hoes with the BIGGEST mommy milkers for your funeral” honestly? id be honored

- all the arguments escalate so quickly. an old man very politely appeals to agamemnon to pretty please give his daughter back and offers him a huge fortune for her and agamemnon calls him a crotchety old bitch and tells him he’ll fucking kill him if he ever sees him again

- that same old man is a priest of apollo. you know, the plague god? anyway priest calls in a favor and apollo curses the greeks with a plague

- to address this, achilles decides to resolve it by calling all the greeks together and passive aggressively going “HM! i WONDER what could have caused a PLAGUE! it’s almost like we OFFENDED the PLAGUE GOD somehow. now WHAT could WE (cough agamemnon) done to offend the PLAGUE GOD?????” all in front of agamemnon

- zeus spends most of the book desperately trying to keep the gods OUT of the war. then once he’s finally had enough he just calls them all together and says “go nuts” and then they do

- artemis talks shit on the battlefield so hera calls her a bitch, steals her bow, and beats her with it. artemis then goes back to zeus and cries

- polydamas says to hector “hey you killed patroclus and achilles is gonna be fucking pissed. we should probably go back to the city while we can” and hector calls him a bitch and tells him to stfu. achilles then chases them back to the city and hector decides to stay outside and get killed by achilles instead of going in with the rest of the army bc he didn’t wanna hear polydamas say “i told you so”

- diomedes is about to fight with a guy called glaucus but then they realize their ancestors were friends or something so they decide not to kill each other, and diomedes says “hey! why don’t we even trade armor! :) just as a show of friendship! :))” and glaucus is like “yeah sure!” and gives diomedes his really nice gold plated armor while glaucus gets diomedes’ shitty plain bronze armor

- achilles makes a bitchy comment to his horses about leaving patroclus to die and the horse momentarily gains the ability to talk just to tell achilles it wasn’t THEIR goddamn fault, tells achilles he’s gonna die soon, and then goes back to being a normal horse.

- zeus with his daughters: oh child ❤️ oh my dear ❤️ oh there there i didn’t really mean it ❤️ sweetie why don’t you go help the greeks?❤️

- zeus with his sons: “ares you fucking donkey”

- everyone calling paris a stupid coward bitch every time they see him. all of troy fucking hates him. hector fucking hates him. helen fucking hates him.

- paris getting dressed up in fancy armor and prancing to the front lines going “i’ll fight ANY of you greeks!” and menelaus (the guy whose wife he stole) goes “alright bet” and paris nearly pisses his pants and tries to hide but then his brother hector calls him a piece of shit and tells him he hopes he dies and makes him fight menelaus. menelaus promptly ROCKS HIS SHIT. literally starts dragging him by his helmet like a rag doll, would’ve killed him if aphrodite hadn’t teleported paris outta there (BOO)

#the iliad #iliad memes #homer’s iliad #achilles #patroclus

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rosie-writings · 4 months

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You’ve Got my Body, Flesh, and Bone Part One

Summary: You didn’t think you would let it go this far, but alcohol always gives you the bite to challenge Colby until you’re both faced with the things that keep you from being together.

Warnings: Colby x Reader smut, Angst, Slow Burn, Dom/Sub dynamic, Best Friends to Lovers, slight Predator/Prey kink, Overstimulation, Bondage, Overstimulation, slight Subspace

Words: 23.4k

No Y/N Used

Title is from ‘The Summoning’ by Sleep Token

Part Two

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my friends to death and back and then some, but they could be real fucking idiots sometimes.

Most of the time.

Perhaps I simply had a more conservative outlook on the dating culture in LA, or maybe I was traumatized enough where my hopeless romantic naive middle school girl heart turned into an all or nothing brittle young adult woman heart. Nothing was wrong with that, I didn’t think, until I moved to LA to live closer to my new friends.

I met them after my YouTube and Instagram exploded, which I know I said I would never do, but they truly were the most amazing people I met.

My friendship with Sam and Colby didn’t end after they invited me and one of my friends to film a video with them. I knew who they were; we interacted on social media plenty of times but never communicated privately. I also was keen on truly finding out more about the spiritual realm, so when I followed them into that haunted mansion, there was no room for bullshit.

I guess they respected that because not even 24 hours later, Colby was asking for my number.

Maybe I was an idiot and gave it to him.

I genuinely thought it was purely so we could have an easier time than clogged dm’s to collaborate again. And it was. We strictly talked about spirituality and paranormal activity for six months. I always asked about their investigations and he always enthusiastically responded.

I enjoyed it. I really enjoyed it.

The messages developed into something else, something with seemingly less purpose, in the autumn. I remember it being mid October when Colby sent a photo of himself. It looked like any other Snapchat or Instagram story he would post, but then I looked on his social media and realized that this photo was taken just for me.

Which was fine; I didn’t think twice about it. In fact, I felt excited because he trusted me enough to ask about the new merch sample they received. Of course it looked good and there were now flaws to pick out. I picked out a couple to make sure he stayed humble. Of course they were lies.

I learned a month before that they had private socials for their friends only. And, oh. The amount of tomfoolery that went on behind that firewall was better than the latest show I binged. For one, I didn’t realize that Colby saw a different girl basically every night. At least I think they were different girls.

At heart, I’m 100 percent a girl’s girl and I will always see the value in every girl but goddamn; I didn’t realize how easy it was to make yourself look exactly like someone else. I mean, down to the exact shade of brunette hair, body type, and sometimes eye color? It felt like I was the delusional one and tripping out on his new girlfriend. That wasn’t what it was though. A different girl was tagged everytime.

The boys weren’t unfamiliar with posting edgier photos whether it be in the middle of an abandoned place that could crumble and kill them before they thought to react, or it be them posing with minimal clothing or some kind of flirtatious caption in the description. Those weren’t bad things, but they were new to me, and honestly, it kind of melted down the anxiety I built in my head about posting new photos on Instagram. Suddenly it didn’t feel like I had to be perfect and get the perfect shot anymore; a lot of it was shock factor.

Which the boys did exceptionally well.

My friends bulldozed their way through the beginning of 2024. It was entertaining, to say the least, but when I saw photos of their New Year’s party, I was taken back by how minimal they turned out. I came across four photos. A girl kissed Sam at midnight, Colby’s arm was around a girl’s waist, the two of them with probably nine other people in a cute group shot, and the last one was them outside the club the party was at—darkened city streets and palm trees that glistened with New Year’s sparkles and confetti were behind them—and I loved those photos. All of them.

But they weren’t the full picture. Definitely not the full picture.

I vividly remember turning the corner with friends into one of the secluded cut outs of lounge space. My best friend and I tried to find more friends and, well, we found them. Firstly, I would admit that the music was so loud I felt the bass in my bones, so maybe that had something to play. I also was in the double digits of how many combined drinks and shots I had, so there was that as well.

But when we turned the corner, I remember the same girl who kissed Sam at midnight was on his lap kissing him again, only this time she fully grinded on him and he didn’t even raise a hand to stop.

Which, okay, to be fair, whatever I don’t care. What caught me off guard was the complete lack of care from everyone else as well. I’m not sure if I have the confidence to practically have sex in a semi-public space with all my friends around me, but whatever.

What bothered me more, somehow, was the way Colby’s hands wouldn’t leave that girl’s skin—the same one he kissed at midnight—and I didn’t know why. Maybe I did, but it was more of a complete annoyance than anything. Maybe some disapproval as well.

He was with someone different just the night before—it was on his Instagram story—and he hooked up with the same girl multiple times during the trip we all took during Christmas. At least he was with her for an entire week rather than one day.

It wasn’t my business though, so naturally, I didn’t give a fuck nor did I say a word. It was so easy to behave like it didn’t affect me in any way or leave a bad taste in my mouth, because it didn’t.

”Hey!” I instantly broke into a smile when Tara met us halfway from the couches and drinks and friends and confetti and the making out— “Where have you guys been?”

”We had drinks and kind of got lost dancing with people,” I laughed. It was the truth and considering the flush in our cheeks and the more unkempt pieces of hair down our backs, Tara didn’t question it. Her hand linked with mine and she dragged us to the left side of the room; black leather couches lined in a semicircle.

And that was when the night truly began.

It also finished there when one of us passed out; I don’t remember who but I swear it wasn’t me.

My night finished when I emptied my guts on the street outside. I think Tara’s hands were in my hair and Colby’s voice was quiet and close to me. I’m pretty sure the sun was rising when we stepped foot in that Uber.

So that was as far as my friendship with Sam and Colby had gone. They were fantastic at their jobs, cared deeply about their work, and cared even more about the supernatural and what’s beyond, and they partied hard.

It was true. I scanned over the last few messages between us. I didn’t mean to leave Colby on read. Something sprouted in me from that moment. I couldn’t fully comprehend what it was. Maybe it was the abrasiveness of the photo, or maybe it was because I didn’t anticipate Colby ever crossing that imaginary boundary. This photo didn’t just cross it, he shot a hundred yards past and then some.

That look in his eyes—the subtle desperation in his text—something, somewhere, did it for me.

It was completely unsolicited as well. Well, unwarranted at least. Once I saw the photo it was solicited in every way imaginable. I didn’t understand where those intense feelings came from. It was intangible.

My stomach soured inside of me. It had me spiraling. Every look, every touch; Colby hardcore gave himself away. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle it. It wasn’t that I didn’t want it, no, not even that.

It was the fact that I loved it.

That caught me off guard. That nearly scared me.

It was no secret that a while ago, before we even interacted on social media, Colby drunkenly uncovered some too-personal details on the internet. And of course the internet ran wild with them. It kind of became part of his persona which he bravely embraced—which I admired because if I were in his situation, I would coil up and die—and it surpassed the internet’s perception of him as well.

But the underlying tone of his photo, of his text, completely betrayed that persona I was familiar with.

So I waited.

And waited.

I didn’t mean to leave him on read before the photo, but after he sent it, I left him on read with purpose in order to see what came of it. If he was willing to send that one desperate photo after an accidental ignoring, what would he do if it was deliberate?

It wasn’t very dominant of him to lace his photos and matching words with yearning like that.

I groaned as I rolled over in my chilling duvet. My arms stretched above me and my vision darkened. Damn right it was 6am, and I innocently woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep so I checked my phone. It still lodged in my stretched hand.

It buzzed again.

Unfortunately, he and I both knew that he was right.

I rolled out of bed and my legs tangled in the slick white sheets.

I haphazardly made my way into my en suite and flicked on the light. The eye bags were out to say hello this morning, which checked out. I was nearly 27; why the hell did I allow a grown man to get me out of bed to go outside before my body willed.

”Jesus Christ,” I gasped at his behavior. So, naturally, I snapped a photo of myself in the mirror.

‘Better?’ I typed and hit send with trembling hands. He didn’t respond.

My heart pounded.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have sent that.

If he spits out his own medicine then he shouldn’t have offered it to me.

With shaking hands, I got myself ready as requested.

It hadn’t always been like this even though it felt so.

Our relationship evolved and with every text, it dramatically developed into something more than a professional one. Like a friendship, at the very least, and now here I was finding myself lacing my shoes for this man before seven am to go to some… place.

Eight days ago we came back from a long trip of filming content for their channel.

Five days ago Sam asked us to go pick up shit for this party that was forgotten in transit or something. It was the first time we were alone together, and while the task was simple and mundane, it was fun.

Fun enough for me to say yes to him all the time apparently, because four days ago, Colby asked me to come to a photo shoot for their next merch launch.

Three days ago, Sam, Colby and I went out with Tara, Jake and Johnnie and took photos afterward.

Two days ago we partied hard with the gang again.

And yesterday, well, yesterday I went to Sam and Colby’s house for no reason.

We had breakfast, relaxed for once, and did nothing.

Nothing was so entirely great.

Now when I left my apartment that morning, he was already there waiting for me. We didn’t live close enough to walk, but maybe two exits at most from each other.

“Wow you look so happy to see the sun,” Colby remarked. My squinted eyes glared back at him. I forgot to change my hair from its bed head state in any way. A piece of it dangled in front of my eye bags. He only laughed back at me.

“I’m here. I didn’t say I would be happy about it.”

”Don’t worry, you will be soon.” I didn’t respond because I didn’t want to get too snappy. I knew I was joking, but the lack of caffeine and over abundance of morning light did not fare well in me.

”Here is this,” he said before he even gave me a thick enough pause to reply. I looked over and he pulled an energy drink from behind my chair. It was cold. “Palatable offering, I hope.”

”It is,” I laughed and snapped it open.

For an early morning, it was fairly a quick drive on the freeway to this mystery location.

”We’re flying to Australia soon.”

”Oh really?” I gasped and looked over at him. The sun brightened this side of his face. ”Damn.”

”Yeah, we’ve put it off for so long and it’s finally happening. We’re so excited.”

”I bet. Wait, when are you leaving?”

”Six days.”

”That is really soon.” His eyes widened with a sigh.

”Yeah.”

”What, unprepared?”

”As much as we should be prepared already considering how long we’ve wanted to go, yes. Very much so unprepared. We’ve been running around like crazy trying to get things in order at any time we can.”

”So this morning?” He shook his head. I hadn’t looked away from him for a second as we spoke. He kept his eyes on the road.

”How dare I take a tiny break for myself.”

”Naturally you invite me then?”

”I suppose.” By the quiet tone of his voice, I didn’t push. I didn’t prod or step across a line.

I don’t think I even stepped on it. I ran away from it.

”DId Tara mention that we’re going to New York and staying there until Tana and Brooke get there while on tour?”

”Oh shit, no she didn’t. Wait, she did go on their podcast recently.”

”Yeah. Two weeks ago she did. I went with her and we talked for so long. We literally canceled our next plans and decided that we would catch up again in New York when they got there. I think they have a good five days off or something to stay there a week.”

”Oh sweet, when are you leaving?”

”March second.”

”Oh shit, that’s the day we get back from Australia.”

”Oh really?”

There was silence.

“And when do you get back?”

”The plan is to be back by March 12th but we’ll see if that happens.” For the first time since he gave me the drink, he stole a glance from me.

”You’ll see?”

”Tara was talking about going to uh—God I forgot, a specific place, though, for spring break with some other girls too. I think we may be back to re-pack and then head there.”

”Oh okay, okay.” My stomach swarmed with butterflies. I couldn’t pinpoint why. I was overly excited for our trips; it had been a while since I went anywhere for a break and to spend time with myself and the girls, and myself and the girls only.

We parked.

It was a bit farther than I anticipated, but there were less people and mainly lone hikers who risked more of a challenge in the early morning. I didn’t mind. I was simply here for the ride and grateful that I could keep up with Colby.

”Sam and I came here a while ago because we saw it and were curious. It’s a really nice place for photos and to walk in silence.”

”Oh silence. I love that.”

”Yeah,” he laughed. “I know.”

So we walked in silence.

The hills rolled and seemed to touch the skies in some places. Even in the winter chill, the sun warmed my face and within ten minutes both of our hoodies came off. Dust emitted from the ground but stayed. It was dry as hell and not as windy as usual so we were covered in it.

“This way,” he said and we veered to the left up a steeper route of white rock. Thistles of cacti and various plants I was afraid to touch nipped at our ankles as we calculated our steps on the small jut outs lodged in the hill.

Then, near the top and to the right, Colby reached a eight to twelve foot—I wasn’t quite sure—plateau. It wasn’t a long drop to our ground, per say, but the sun’s light was cut from where I stood. I basked in the shade as Colby climbed up with his long ass nimble legs.

”Here,” he said and his hand reached to mine. I climbed the first few feet of rocks before taking his hand.

Maybe I should not have been as enthusiastic to hold his rough dirty hand if even for a few split moments.

Once on top, there was another few yards of elevation until we reached the peak that I supposed he and Sam found before. They weren’t wrong. This portion of the hill was fairly tall compared to the rest, and while we stood in the dusty rocks of the peak, the other side was a grassy downslope that fell straight towards the valley from which we came. Morning light streaked across the city in pinks and oranges while the tips of buildings and hills on the other side of the city reflected mature midday sun.

Maybe getting out of bed this morning wasn’t all that bad.

“Oh my god, you were right. This is a fantastic place.”

”See?” He replied happily. “And there’s really no one who comes out this far.”

”I know. Maybe we should come back for photos since you left me out the first time.”

”Well when we do come back for photos, you will have been here the same amount we have so it’s like we didn’t leave you out.”

”What are you talking about? You’re here now.”

”Well… It’s fine. We’ll still come back.”

More silence.

I sat down first. Colby sat next to me and leaned back on his hands.

“Right that way,” Colby started as he pointed quite to the right of us; east. “Sam and I filmed this one video. I don’t think we can see the plateau very well from here, but it was the one where this guy in a cloak threw a cross over us and into the valley.”

”Oh shit, wait,” I gasped. “I remember that.”

”Yeah,” he scoffed. “Sometimes I think about all the weird stuff that happens at night only for the morning to feel so peaceful.”

“It’s almost as if your mind plays tricks on you.” He gave me a look.

”Wow, I guess Sam and I and also the camera hallucinated that damn cross.”

”Oh my god,” I laughed. “No but, he threw that thing damn far.”

”I know! It was even crazier in person because it wasn’t light when we picked it up.” I looked back to the valley. The white rocks descended into purples and blues where a few highways entered and exited.

”Do you think he’s the reason you got all scratched up?”

”Oh god, I have no idea.”

”Or do you think whatever it is just stays here?” Colby shrugged but kept his gaze across the sea of hills. I could tell; he tried to identify the property they were on but couldn’t.

”I don’t know. If it does, it sure isn’t in charge of the morning, is it?”

”No.” My voice was quiet.

My heart pounded.

When would it get a rest?

I opened my mouth before I thought about it.

”Why didn’t you bring Sam?” My seriousness was probably enough to tell him that I meant bringing him in this moment instead. He shook his head before he spoke.

”I didn’t—It’s not that I didn’t bring him. I just wanted you to come.”

”Oh. I see.”

“You said yes,” he laughed.

”Maybe I just like doing nothing with you. All we do it work and run around like crazy all the time.”

”That’s true.”

Another pause.

”This weekend was really nice though,” I admitted. He looked at me. I didn’t look back.

”It was, I think.”

”Because yeah we probably got too fucked up on Friday and Saturday nights, but just relaxing and not doing anything with you guys is actually nice.”

”You say that as if you expected it to be awful.” I smiled and shot him a look.

“No I don’t. I just mean that it’s nice to see you—all of you—not stressed until you want to drink yourself to death.” Colby sighed.

”No, you’re right.”

”I know I’m right.”

”Yeah, and humble.”

“Shut up,” I laughed and shoved his arm slightly. It gave out and he caught himself.

When we straightened ourselves and leaned back like we were, his hand accidentally landed close to mine. It didn’t touch me, but I felt the warmth between us.

This silence was still. Brutally, peacefully, still.

My tongue clamped to the roof of my mouth. I heard my heartbeat in my ears. As I tried to find something within the horizon to take interest in, the corner of my eye caught the expression on his face. He too looked forward, eyebrows pressed serious, and lips parted.

I would think he was lost in thought and had been for a while now.

As I looked at him slowly, his finger ever so slightly lifted and came over mine. I don’t think it covered but half of my finger, and I wasn’t sure if he touched it all that much. But it was there and I waited for the weight of it.

”Let’s get up. You haven’t posted on Instagram in, what? Three months? Why should we wait to take pictures later?”

”Bitch,” I gasped and sat forward. He looked at me. His eyes were still thoughtful and dark. But his mouth lifted to a smile. “I look like shit.”

”No you don’t.”

I left it at that.

A handful of photos—for both of our feeds—later, and we coasted down the hill twice as fast as we came up. My ankles were almost too weak to handle it from the photo session. I tensed my entire body to shake the thoughts away. My hands were so slick by the time it was my turn to snap photos of him that I thought I would drop his phone. I held my breath the second his shirt came up and off his body. I only really stared at the screen.

There was something about that moment that seemed too close, too serious, for me to look at him not through a screen.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t seen him half dressed before; it was basically his everyday wear. For some reason though, out by ourselves alone in the valley made it seem ten times more intimate. I’ve been alone with him in his bedroom when he hardly wore clothes, I’ve fallen asleep next to him on flights, in beds, on sofas.

It wasn’t like this. My eyes couldn’t retreat from the areas the sun reflected on his skin.

When we got in the car, suddenly it was stuffy and hot, and we tossed our clothes to the backseat before Colby turned the A/C on high.

”Jesus Christ, it’s February!” He shouted. I laughed and held onto my drink. Of course it was flat and not cold anymore but it was something for my aching throat.

I forced myself to look forward even as his hand subconsciously met the back of my chair when he began to back from the parking space. Even with the over abundance of cameras on this damn car, he still never used them.

“Aw shit,” Colby laughed as he looked at his phone.

”What?”

”Sam asked where the fuck I was.”

”Oh my god—“

”And then just asked to grab food on the way back.”

”Let’s get food then.”

I spent the rest of the day with them.

When I walked into their spare bathroom downstairs, I paused as I turned on the lights.

My hair was a mess, my tan popped against the dark sports bra that caked with dust, and in the reflection were sun dazed eyes. Then I looked to the counter and the room spun.

Half of my make up and products I used to get ready sprawled across the granite counter. I forgot that on Saturday night I got ready here before we went out, and Tara sat in the bathtub eating her dinner and entertained me while I did so. My shampoo, conditioner, and body wash were in the shower. I looked back at myself in the mirror.

My towel hung behind me.

”Come on!”

“I’m hurrying!”

”Let’s go!”

”Fucking trying, bitch!”

”You’re walking!”

The door slammed.

”Impatient animals, Jesus fuck,” Tara sighed. She turned back to me. I backed away from the mirror.

“Wait we look hot let me—“ And Tara grabbed her phone and snapped mirrors selfies with the both of us before we exited the bathroom.

”Just put your shoes on in the car or else Sam will leave us here,” I told Tara. My shoes were also in my hand.

”Right, right,” she grumbled. “Coming.” I stood at the front door and waited for her. I scowled at the raging black clouds in the sky. There was no way we would make it into the studio before the storm began. “Surprisingly my ex-boyfriend would never treat me like this,” she grumbled as she hopped past me. I scoffed a laugh.

”Yeah because he knew he’d get his ass beat.”

”I mean you’re not wrong.”

We hopped in the back seats of Sam’s car, and that was how we started the last night we all had together before over a month of separate travels.

To be fair, we were running over 30 minutes behind to get the photoshoot we should have been ultra prepared for. We planned it nearly six days ago after Sam complained about not being a part of our morning photoshoot in the hills. Tara came along because, obviously.

Bickering was the only way for us to relieve the stress of not getting into the car as soon as we needed.

”If I find another one of these in the car, I’m fucking throwing it away,” Colby spat and chunked whatever tube of makeup into the bag Sam held.

”Excuse me, that was mine—“

”Was,” Colby cut me off with a little too much emphasis.

”I’m pretty sure they stopped making those—“

”God fucking thank you then. Now I don’t have to throw one away everytime I climb back here to get shit.”

”You throw them away?” I cried. Colby glared at me from where he leaned inside the trunk of his car.

“Yeah? They would end up crawling back over here anyway.” I rolled my eyes at the muted pitch of his voice.

We stood at the back of the car for all but ten seconds while we each grabbed different things for the photoshoot and the podcast we were about to film and within those ten seconds, the angry clouds decided it was a good time to rain down on us.

As Colby slammed the back shut, I followed Tara straight for the door to the back of the studio. She already was safe under the patio cover.

The tension in the air wasn’t funny or a joke anymore.

I repeated the expression I saw on Sam’s face in my head when I whirled around and followed Tara. He wasn’t messing around anymore. He didn’t look at me and only stared at Colby waiting for his next command.

Needless to say, it never came.

Colby didn’t say another word until we were on the set.

It had been a few minutes. We caught our breaths while our hair and makeup were freshened. Tara and I gossiped between ourselves to calm down and keep ourselves occupied.

And then it was time for photos.

This morning we woke up late. We went out last night and didn’t set alarms. With two podcasts and a photoshoot scheduled, the day started off high stress. We scrambled to get ourselves to the podcast. We surprisingly were only ten minutes late.

This time, however, we somehow were not as lucky.

Between getting food, driving across the city, and changing, we didn’t get enough time in between the first podcast and the photoshoot. Of course this used up the last of Colby’s patience. He was snappy and unapproachable because it was supposed to work, and now, other people had been waiting for us and the podcast was pushed back as well.

Sam and I were wholeheartedly fine with taking the brunt of it too.

But by the time I walked on set, my own frustration pooled in my stomach. Colby’s eyes still flared angry and spiteful even as I looked at them. He blinked a few times before he looked away.

We posed and were posed by the photographers for such a long time, I was tired of pretending to smile and, honestly, I was simply tired of being perceived in such a vulnerable way. Sure, the other three were more used to it, especially Sam and Colby, but damn. I was fatigued and dizzied with alternating emotions.

Tara and I posed alone together next which was alleviating.

My brain turned off.

Then it was Sam and Colby’s turn alone.

My brain turned on when Sam gestured me over.

I wanted to coil up and rot in my bed. I was tired, Colby stressed me out, Sam was snappy with me, and Tara just wanted to sleep. We were falling apart, but when I came back to them, they were somehow brighter. They talked to and cooperated with the photographer more, and the three of us got shots that I was actually excited about.

What numbed me and gave me a second wind was the feeling of Colby’s hands on my waist, him against my side, and our backs to each other. He grabbed my arm during a pose set up and I swore my skin melted to the bone. I felt it through the rest of the day.

Then, we changed and did it all over again.

An hour later, we were leaving the studio when Colby got the call.

The last podcast was canceled.

No one talked when we piled in the car. It was pure silence, and I looked in the rear view mirror slowly. I watched Colby. He looked down at his phone and texted for a little while until he started music. Then he looked up. His eyes locked on mine.

No one spoke. Neither of us looked away. He didn’t look happy, to say the least.

”What are we going to do?” Sam sighed. The only one brave enough to speak to Colby was him obviously; he was the only one Colby wouldn’t kick out of the car. Probably.

”I don’t know,” he sighed and looked away from me and adjusted how he sat. His head hit the head rest. “I’m fucking tired and done with today.”

”Let’s just go out.”

”Again?” I gasped. The burning in my throat from last night returned.

“It’s Saturday night and I know a group’s about to get dinner before hitting a couple clubs,” Tara said as her eyes still locked on her phone. I looked back at Colby. He was already looking at me. I looked back at Tara.

”I mean, we have to be at the airport at five in the morning.”

”We’ll sleep on the plane.”

”Being hungover on a plane doesn’t seem like a fun way to fly.”

”You’re flying regardless,” Colby intervened. I looked back at him. His eyes were thinner, darker. “Let’s just go.”

”Fine.”

And that’s how we ended up drunker than we ever had.

I was hungover before I finished my umpteenth shot, Tara was on the table, and Sam found the girl he had been talking to. Of course she was a part of our group now; the group Tara texted.

The haze in Colby’s eyes calmed me down. He spoke enthusiastically and smiled more than not. Finally, it felt like we wound down to our regular selves again.

“Come on!”

“I really can’t—“

”Please! It’s our last time here for a while, let’s just have fun!”

”Tara, I can’t even walk straight without running into things. What makes you think I can dance?”

”Everyone’s so close anyway, you don’t have to hold yourself up.” Her arms yanked me out of the sofa before another protest had the time to settle. I was followed.

I didn’t know by who, but I felt the presence behind me as we made our way across the dark club. Finally, Tara led me across the threshold of the dance floor. Then she spun around and didn’t let go of my hand.

Her eyes lifted behind me. An evil smile pulled at her mouth.

”What’s wrong—“

”Nothing,” she cut me off, and pulled me from looking behind me. “Come on.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. I felt the music reverberating through me like a vessel already. If I was going to be in pain all day tomorrow, I might as well make the most of it tonight.

It didn’t take long, but I felt a hand on my arm, a pressure on my body, and I turned around wildly. A face I couldn’t recognize, and Tara yanked me away, closer to her.

I watched her mouth but I couldn’t hear her words. I nodded and smiled in agreement anyway, and danced with her.

And again, hands found my waist, but this time more pressure in places that I definitely didn’t ask for it to be, so I gasped a breath and whipped myself around, but the hands were off of me before I got the chance to see who it was.

I looked up to Colby who shoved someone—the pressure I supposed—behind him. He looked back to the man who grabbed me. Violently, he spoke and shoved again. I didn’t understand what he said but I agreed. Wholeheartedly.

”Colby,” I gasped as if he could hear me.

With the shaking of his head, he stepped into my personal space.

”How did you know I didn’t want to dance with someone?” He scoffed.

“I don’t care if you wanted to or not, clearly you didn’t ask for that.”

”I could have taken care of it.”

”And? That was gross. I was right there.”

Right, Colby followed us to the dance floor. That’s right. I felt his eyes on me the entire time.

”Why were you watching us?”

”Because you’re drunk as hell and both of you are half the size as the majority of people here.” Why did I like the hostility on his tongue? I almost tasted the alcohol that intoxicated him.

”Yeah, that’s all it is, isn’t it?”

”What else would it be?” There it was. That flirty flick up of his eyebrow. We were the only three paused in the sea of dancing bodies.

”Just—Come on,” Tara grumbled and gripped both of our elbows. “Can’t have any fun with you when Colby’s around, can I?”

”What the fuck does that mean?”

Tara didn’t respond.

She went back to friends, but Colby grabbed me and held me back.

Again, his grip was heaven itself there in that hell hole. I spun back to him. I didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered across my full face before settling on my eyes. Drunken mistakes.

”No, tell me,” he said. Lowly.

”Tell you what?” I scoffed. He rolled his eyes.

”What else would I defend you like that for?” My gaze fell from his eyes, his nose, lips, chest, the floor.

I shook my head.

”I’m drunk as hell.”

”Yeah same,” he sighed. He took a step back. His eyes didn’t leave me though.

”Why do you look at me like that?” He shook his head. Don’t ask the things you don’t want to know about. “Stop looking at—Talk to me,” I demanded.

”You’re so—“ He gritted his teeth and his voice caught in his throat when his hands found my face and held me still. My lips parted fairly widely as shock rose my eyebrows. His eyes looked at me. With intention.

My body caught ablaze, and I didn’t like it. Not this time. This kind of wildfire was destructive; non rebuildable.

”Colby—“

He just looked at me. Even closer. I almost felt the sweetness of his mouth on mine.

”I’m more of an all or nothing kind of girl, Colby, not—not a one and done like you,” I said. My calmest words laced with a poison that furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t do those smash and dashes like you do, so if that’s what you’re looking for, you can go back to those models you fuck every other day because that’s not the kind of body you’ll find here.”

Hurt spread across his face. His hands slowly fell from me, and for the first time, I wanted to take the words back.

“Really?” He gasped. It cut deeper; his hurt. I didn’t mean it.

Maybe I got it all wrong.

”That—Really? That’s what you have to say to me?”

”Colby,” I spat his name through teeth weakened by grit. “Don’t ruin our new friendship, I was liking it way too much.”

”I’m not ruining anything. You don’t know what I want.”

”Then you’re confusing. Too complicated for me.” I stepped away from him. He took a step towards me. “I don’t appreciate my best friends using me.”

”Good. I don’t either.”

”So what’s this?” I gesture to his hands. “Why do you touch me like that? And why does it look like you could kiss me at any moment?”

”Are you projecting or something? Because my wanting to kiss you doesn’t equate to using you.”

A laugh burst from me.

”So when you kissed all those other girls in front of me even after we texted the way we do and after you fucked them, you didn’t use them?” My head cocked to the side in defiance.

Fire blazed in his eyes.

”You’re ridiculous.”

”I am?” I shouted.

”You don’t know anything.”

”Right,” I scoffed. “Not like you’ve made advancements in helping me know something—Colby.”

He grabbed my face like he did and shoved himself back into my space. This time, I felt his front collide into mine. My hands grabbed his wrists.

I froze.

My lips parted the moment his grazed mine.

He caught me. His eyes lifted to mine with a smirk slowly pulled at his dark lips.

“So you talk your shit but you’d still kiss me back?”

”Fuck you,” I spat. He smiled evilly.

”You’d love to, wouldn’t you?” He molded his words over my bottom lip, and I opened my mouth for more.

“Mm, maybe,” I mumbled. His eyes blew wide when I bit down on his bottom lip. “But I would love it more if you didn’t fuck me over after.”

He shook his head quickly.

”I wouldn’t,” I think he gasped so quietly that only by the breath on my skin could I discern his words.

I retracted my teeth and replaced them with my lips.

That was when one of his hands traveled to my messy pulled back hair and he kissed me with such intensity that I’m sure I fell to the ground. A noise escaped my throat but I didn’t back down. I couldn’t when his hands were firm on my body like he knew it already.

So of course I kissed him back like he was mine.

He always was, wasn’t he? I licked into his mouth first, and I think it caught him off guard because a deep moan pressed against my tongue and his thumb jutted under my chin as if to hold me in place. The taste of our drinks mixed in our mouths, and I breathed him in like I needed the hit.

I think he moaned my name; all this time he took a step and then another step into me as if he aimlessly tried to find a stable surface to pin me but couldn’t. He was too drunk to remember that we were in the middle of a bustling club. I ran into someone. I didn’t care.

I took advantage of his leap of shock and my lips wrapped around his tongue. That was when his eyes opened and he slowly looked down at me in surprise when we ever so slowly retract from each other.

”Holy shit,” I thought I heard, and we must have both heard since we both looked over in the direction of our friends.

Sam stared back at us and Tara’s pouty smirk fired directly at me.

Colby took three big steps away from me. Looked at me.

”Colby,” I said but he left me and walked towards Sam.

Sam and Colby walked towards the back door of the club with a dictionary of words between them. Tara stood in front of me.

”It’s 2:30, we gotta go and get ready for our flight.”

”But—But Colby—“

”I know, but we gotta go. Sam was going to be sick.”

I took her hand as she took mine and her friend dropped us off at my house.

The taste of Colby’s lips was the only thing that kept the vomit in the back of my throat.

That sunrise was not kind.

I vomited while packing. I vomited while in the Uber. And again while waiting at the terminal.

At least we got through TSA without a vomit session.

I wanted those hands on me again. To numb the pain. I typically didn’t hurt this bad with a hangover.

I plopped in my seat and Tara already cuddled up into me with her neck pillow and blanket. I checked my phone.

New message from my best friend, but that was it.

I couldn't blame them—to be fair—it was still the night for them, and if Sam had to be sick while at the club, I knew he would be drunk until the late morning and hungover by sundown. Colby on the other hand was drunk, but I couldn’t tell if he was drunk enough to be hungover. I couldn’t read him at all tonight—last night. I understood his mouth perfectly well though, and unfortunately I wanted to communicate more.

Or fortunately? I couldn’t decide quite yet.

I fell asleep before we took off.

When I woke up, the sun blared into the cabin like a lightning rod. I moaned and squinted my eyes, and stretched in my sleep.

”Oh good, you’re up,” Tara said. I looked over at her. Her AirPods were in, a roller was in her hair, and she watched Netflix on her laptop as she filed her nails. “I was getting bored.”

”Jesus Christ, Tara. I’m going to be sick.”

”Ha! No you’re not. Take this.” She handed me a pill and what looked to be an antibacterial wipe. “I don’t give a fuck if you gotta stick that wipe up your nose; you won’t be vomiting on this plane. That’s so embarrassing.”

”Tara,” I moaned and sat up more. The nausea sickened me. I dry swallowed the pill. The alcohol from the wipe did, in fact, aid my hangover bile. ”What time is it?”

”Ten. We’ve been on the flight for like four hours.” I sighed and sat upright in my seat with my eyes clamped shut. My thoughts battled to ward off the nausea. “So, Sam and I walked in on you making out with Colby last night.”

”Oh my god, don’t remind me.”

“What the fuck was that about, huh?”

”God, I have no idea”

”And you didn’t even do anything after as well.” I shot her a glare.

“The fuck you mean ‘do anything?’ Obviously we weren’t going to fuck if that’s what you’re saying.” I rolled my head away from her and leaned it on my hand. It needed physical support too not just emotional.

“What are you talking about?” She laughed. “The tension has been making me sick. I thought you guys were finally going to get it over with.”

That annihilated my ability to ward off nausea.

”I’m going to throw up.”

”Fucking don’t, bitch,” she threatened me with her nail file. “We have to get our nails done in New York because I feel like a dirty girl when we’re going to nice clubs or whatever.”

”We can get them done.” The thought of a nail salon scent quenched the nausea.

”Anyway, about Colby—“

”I do not want to hear that name right now.”

Tara looked at me with concern. A frightening silent concern. The concern was only heavily serious when Tara was quiet.

”He didn’t look happy after he kissed you. What happened?” And how could I lie to that hushed worrisome voice.

”I told him that—oh god what did I say?” I tried to remember as I rubbed my eyes. Thank god Tara convinced me to take off—and also partially helped me—take off my makeup last night. “I said something like I’m not into hooking up like he is—Oh, I’m not a one and done kind of girl. I told him I wanted all of him or nothing.”

”Shit,” Tara gasped. “That’s kind of a lot, isn’t it?”

”I mean he tried to kiss me, Tara! Before we even talked about it.”

”Okay? What’s the problem with that?”

”I really enjoyed our friendship,” I sighed. “I don’t want it bursting into flames. Hanging out with them and working with them is amazing, and once it does inevitably fuck up after we actually date, then I can’t lose them.”

”I know it doesn’t work for everyone, but you could still be friends with them.” I sighed heavily. Tara’s eyes still examined me.

”There’s no way I could feel for Colby the way you do for Jake right now.”

”How come?” I opened my mouth to speak but no words found me. “You—You’re really serious about Colby, aren’t you?”

”Yes, but-but not to say you weren’t serious about—“

”No, I know,” Tara quickly said. “I get it. We’re a lot less unserious after our relationship. We just tried it and it was fun be we aren’t meant to be together romantically.”

”That’s the thing, Tara,” I grumbled and finally looked at her. “How do you not get attached? I’m already scarily attached to him. Fuck; I hate him for it too.” She lips curled in a smirk. “Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

”You are so down bad for that man it’s hilarious.”

”What would be hilarious is if you shut the fuck up.”

”Just admit that you love him so much that you would rather never see him again than not be romantic with him.”

”You’re literally putting words in—Do you not hear the words coming out of my mouth?” Tara rolled her eyes at me and I sighed. I settled in my chair.

“I know. I get it, I do.”

”I just don’t know what I’m going to do, Tara. I already fucked up a lot between us whether we pursue each other or not.”

”How come?”

“I basically called him a slut too.”

”You-You what?” She gasped. She choked back a laugh before it burst out of her. “That is the most diabolical thing—“

”I know it was so wrong of me, but I was drunk and terrified.”

”I know.”

”Tara!” I gasped. “He fucks everything that breathes!” The anger stung my gritted teeth and she parted her lips with surprise. “Do you not fucking see it?” I shout in a whisper. “He has a new fucking partner every damn week which-which whatever, that’s fine, but then he texts me the way he does and it’s like he wants to get in my pants too, just for the sake of it!”

”Whoa, how do you text? Give me your phone.”

”No way.”

”You sent him nudes?”

”What? No!” My blush flared hot. She rolled her eyes.

”I’ve known Colby for so long, it’s nothing I haven’t seen.”

”We haven’t fucking—Wait what the fuck does that mean?”

”Jesus Christ, no need to get wound up. I haven’t fucked him; remember Jake used to live with them. I stayed there weeks at a time.” I nodded and handed her my phone. We really didn’t have anything important to hide.

As she read the texts, my heart quickened. Her silence scared me.

”Oh my god,” she gasped. “The damn tension is even worse in text.”

”Give It back,” I spat and stole it from her. “What tension? We’re just friends.”

”Pf, yeah; friends that are able to make any conversation dirty talk. Now stop being a pussy and-and suck his dick or something.“

”Tara!” I cried. I shoved my phone back in my bag. “There’s no way—No! I-I can’t do that.”

”Oh right, you’re so in love with him you want to have sex with him and let him kiss you all gentle—“ Her silly baby voice physically ignited the fiery anger inside of me.

”Seriously,” I spat and held my hand up. “It’s not like that.”

”Oh,” she gasped. “Right, it’s Colby I forgot. He might not like gentle sex.”

”Nor relationships, so let’s stop speaking about something I can’t have.” Tara looked at me as seconds ticked by.

”You do really like him.” I nodded slowly. “If you liked him enough, then what could come of it would be worth risking ever speaking to him the same way again.”

I stared at her wide eyed.

Where did that wisdom come from?

”Potentially.”

“Then talk to him like an adult. And don’t do it when you’re drunk; you disrespect him like that again and he’ll cut you off without you even getting about to suck his—“

”If you’re so obsessed with his dick, why don’t you suck it yourself?” I spat.

”Damn, alright. He’s yours.”

”He’s not mine,” I spat. “If last night was anything to go by.”

”No no,” Tara exasperated. “You literally have it all wrong. He looked so-so enthralled by you, that you’re already his. That’s why it pissed him off so much.”

”He wouldn’t be pissed off if he talked to me like an adult and didn’t fuck other women.”

”Talk to him.”

”You’re acting like you know something.”

”Obviously neither of them talk to me and I supposed neither of them talk to Johnnie or Jake because those two boneheads are clueless as always.” I smiled. “Talk to him. Both of you attitudes are starting to piss me off. I just want to have fun with my best friends without stepping on eggshells.” She sipped her drink.

”I fucking need one of those.”

”It’s a mimosa.”

”I know.”

”You literally were about to throw up.” I rolled my eyes and kicked back in my seat.

”I need to be drunk again.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” she sighed as she eyed down a flight attendant. “Oh, you’re fucking hot by the way.”

”Exuse me?” I choked on nothing.

”Your tattoos are great, and I can’t believe you sent him and underwear pic.” My face burned.

”That was on accident. I was delusional and got out of bed before I was awake at 6am.”

”Yeah, uh-hu. Keep telling yourself that.” And Tara caught the attendant as she passed us.

Between us and the hangovers, it was easy sailing until touchdown.

When we stepped into the airport, my phone rang off the hook with late messages. Of which, Colby was missed. My stomach did that familiar flip at the sight of his name in my messages.

I stared at my phone wide eyed and breathless, and it must have taken me far too long to get going, because Tara peered over my shoulder.

”Damn, see I told you. He set the stage for you, now speak like an adult.” I looked at her sunglasses covered face. I judged her for looking like a freak wearing Jake’s inappropriately too large hoodie with the hood over the roller in her hair as she wore sunglasses on her face that were big enough to cover a horse’s eyes.

Not like I could judge; I might have been wearing Sam’s hoodie and Colby’s sweatpants with my own sunglasses covering my hangover but that’s neither here nor there.

“Let’s go,” I told her and we bulldozed our way through the airport and towards whichever fancy hotel Tara picked the month prior.

And the hotel was very nice.

It was large enough for an entire group to crash in after a night out. The window showed the evening city as night fell, and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the bed that could easily hold four people. I stared out the window for sometime as Tara got settled in. I could have been thinking about our plans for the morning, where we were going to get—most likely—brunch and where we would go thrifting after, but there I stood in the nicest hotel room in New York City I’ve ever been in thinking about Colby.

I thought to text him now.

I will.

Maybe.

My eyes fell heavy, and it took effort to pull myself from the window.

“Thinking about room service. Forgot to get food before.”

”I know, I was just dreaming about this bed,” I moaned as I collapsed into it.

I fell asleep before Tara got off call with room service.

I woke up when the food came.

”Get up or else I’m eating all this pizza.” I slugged over to sit hip to hip with her as the food sprawled ahead of us.

“I’m beat.”

”And once we eat, we can sleep so long and happy once our bellies are full.” She logged into her Netflix on the TV as I scrolled on my phone.

“Okay can we eat now, like damn.”

”Sorry,” I laughed as I read the last word he sent, and my phone was tossed to the bedding.

“How much will you text him? This is supposed to be our chilled out work week; emphasis on boyless work week.”

”Yeah I know, I was going to call him after we eat so we can talk about whatever the fuck happened last night.”

”Okay,” she said as she took a bite.

“Then we will be boyless.”

”Good.”

And she was right. My eyes rolled back even more so as the pizza settled in our systems. She got ready for bed as I slid out onto the balcony to talk to Colby. The chilly air was certainly more than enough to prevent me from falling asleep.

”Hi.”

”Hi,” he said back. “How are you feeling?”

”I’m good, better,” I sighed. “It was kind of the worst flight of my life though.”

”That’s what I was worried about. Good thing you made it through.”

”Yeah, hardly though. Tara threatened me and stuffed alcohol wipes in my nose every time I moved.”

”Oh my god,” he laughed. “I felt really bad last night. You were so sick and then Sam was sick—god, he still is—and I was just like, ‘shit, maybe this was a bad idea’ especially after—everything.”

”Yeah, I know. But-But it’s fine; it was fine. I had a good night. Just won’t do it before a five am flight ever again.”

Silence.

”I wanted to talk about last night though, like what happened between us.”

”I know,” I sighed and released the energy. “First I wanted to say sorry for what I said to you; I didn’t mean it and it was really disrespectful. I was so drunk and should have closed my mouth especially since that’s your business anyway. I feel really bad and didn’t mean it.”

”I-I know,” he said not too convincingly. “It—I mean, I get where you’re coming from and alcohol amplified everything.” My eyebrow twinged with question.

”What do you mean ‘where I’m coming from?’”

”I mean—“ He took his time and I bit through the first layer of skin on my lip. “I-I guess it’s no secret I’m not with anyone and don’t—didn’t have any plan to be. I—oh my god—I was going to say I wanted to just have fun, but I’m such a mess it isn’t fun anymore.”

”Why are you such a mess?” My voice was low as if it knew the answer.

”I guess I’m not wanting to be alone but I’m also just not-not wanting to commit or anything.”

”Oh.” I didn’t mean to be so short, and he took a breath to say something quick but I interjected. “Why did you kiss me then? You heard what I said and I did—and still do—mean it. So why did you kiss me like-like you meant it or something?”

”I’m just as confused as you are about it.” I didn’t appreciate the frustration in his tone.

”Oh yeah? What’s so confusing about it, then? I’m not confused.”

“What?” He gasped. I could tell I picked and picked at the seams until he couldn’t keep it back anymore. “You told me I was confusing to you last night. I’m confused as well.”

”I’m not confused about the situation but I’m confused about the damn choices you’re making.”

”Oh yeah? And what choices are those?”

”How every time you look at me I’m trying to decipher whether you want to kiss me but then you don’t and go kiss another girl like usual. I’m not into this whole—this whole yearning thing. I don’t do situationships or adjacent dysfunction, okay? So if you want to kiss me like you did last night, then I’m the only one you’re kissing and that’s what I’m not confused about.”

”You think I don’t want to kiss you like that?” He gasped. My throat clamped together. “If last night was anything to go by, you’d know that I’ve only ever wanted to kiss you like that. But it’s so much more real.”

”How is it so real?” I scoffed. The bitterness flowed from me, and I didn’t hold it back. How could I? There was so much unknowingly built in my chest and it needed to be relieved. “If it were real, you would kiss me. You wouldn’t fuck any other thing that breathes; you would come to me.”

”Jesus fucking—I don’t fuck anyone! Why do you keep saying that?”

Speechless choked me.

”You-You what?”

”I’ve slept with two people all through last year and no one this year, alright? Just because I might have fun or take photos with people doesn’t mean shit. I’ve only slept with—“

”You don’t have to tell me. I’m-I’m not—I trust you.” I didn’t like the way my voice shook, but I sat still in disbelief. Those nasty things I told him—

“Please,” he sighed. “I’m not—I don’t like to fuck around like that. I mean yeah maybe I do, but not like that. Not the amount you think I have. Do you really think so poorly of me?”

”I don’t-I don’t think poorly of anyone who does that, Colby. Especially not you. The thing that ticked me off was how you treated me. I could only think of those girls; did they know that you talked to me like that? Did they like to hook up meaninglessly like that? I didn’t want to be responsible for any messy situation that came of it.”

”And you wouldn’t have,” he said all too sweetly. “It’s my responsibility and I wouldn’t throw you under the bus like that. I mean; if there even were a bus. Every time I would ‘take someone home’ they would just leave in their own Uber and I’d go back with Sam. Or if I went to their house, honestly I would just crash at Jake and Johnnie’s for the night so that Sam could have the house for the night.” I never thought about those things. Unfairly too; I always believed the worst.

I took a lengthy pause. I was still upset. Unsatisfied. So I yanked harder.

”Then why do you loop me into all of this? Why play with me and kiss me just to go back to how we were?”

”Who said I would ever do it?”

”I don’t know!” I burst out. “Maybe it’s because I saw with my own eyes the amount of girls you were with and didn’t know the details. It’s like you wanted me but kept me on edge for fun.”

”That’s not-That’s definitely not what happened or what I was thinking at all.”

”Then what is, Colby? What the fuck are you thinking about me then, because I’m getting fed up and—“

”I’m thinking that if I just got my shit together and-and got over things I was scared of, I could have you and talk to you about how I feel about you.”

”Which is how?”

”God fucking damnit, you’re really making me spell it out, hm?” I shrugged.

”Obviously. I’m not here to fuck around anymore. I like having fun with my friends and I do not like being used and thrown away. I have more self respect than to be fucked over again and again.”

”I wouldn’t do that.”

”And you’ve given me no reason that you wouldn’t or proof that you would do any better.” The phone etched into my palms from the amount of force I used to hold it.

”God fucking—“ He paused and I heard a breath. “You’re so fucking difficult.”

”I’m difficult? You’re putting my through the ringer because you can’t communicate.”

”I can’t communicate? When did you ever tell me that you didn’t like it when I was with other girls?”

”I don’t know maybe because it’s not my fucking place? Jesus Christ, you think I have the audacity to nose my way into your business?”

”Well you’ve fucking nosed your way into every other area of my life.” I dragged in a deep breath.

I saw red. I finally understood what it felt like when people said that.

”Oh yeah? And whose fault is that exactly?”

”It sure as hell isn’t mine.”

”I swear to god! Ugh! You’re so fucking annoying!”

”I’m annoying?” His voice finally raised. “You’re the one who flirts with me and I get the message that you want something but then you tell me ‘oh, no my expectations are so much higher than what you could reach’ and then get mad when I can’t reach them?”

“You haven’t fucking tried!” I finally yelled. “And you’re projecting! I have never given you my expectations for a relationship and yet you still think you can’t reach them, what am I just some selfish bitch to you or something? You haven’t asked or talked to me about anything serious at all! The only thing you know about my personal needs in a relationship is that I’d like for it to be exclusive and serious. I didn’t realize that was just so fucking hard for anyone to give me.”

”Becase you’re looking in the fucking wrong direction!”

I paused for a moment. I licked my dry lips.

”Oh so then you think the problem is you? Because I know having standards—and low ones, might I add—isn’t typically an issue for people.”

”You are—oh my fucking god.” I heard the way his voice grew quieter as he pulled the phone from his ear in frustration. “Maybe—listen to me—Maybe I think you’re looking in the wrong direction because you need someone who can fit your expectations. Not because you’re too much but because I care about you enough to make sure you’re taken care of and not at risk for it blowing up in your face since clearly that’s all I’m good at.”

”Colby,” I gasped.

This was never about my behavior. This wasn’t even about our lack of communication, then.

“When did I ever say I didn’t want you.”

”What?” He spat. “I never said—“

”No, but clearly you think you’re not good enough for me. You don’t know what I want outside of a stable relationship, and that I know you can give me if you try.”

”How do you know that?” His spite was thicker than the words he said.

”I mean-I mean I don’t but you’re smart and clearly you fucking care enough so I supposed you’d figure it out.”

”But that puts you at risk.”

”Fuck!” I yelled. “For as often as you put your physical body at risk with Sam you certainly are against it emotionally. Maybe I know that it’s a risk liking you as much as I do, but maybe it’s one I’m willing to take.”

”But you want—“

”Fucking hell, Colby. I just wanted you!” God it felt so good to say. “I just wanted you without having to worry that one day I wouldn’t be able to see you again because-because if it does blow up, I’m not sure I’ll be able to be friends with you after. That’s how much I care about you and need you.”

He was silent and my own anxiety took the wheel again.

”I-I really liked our friendship and don’t take that lightly; I hope you feel the same way about it—“

”I really do,” he reassured me.

”Then that’s why I didn’t want to be the one to start something more with you. I didn’t want it to blow up—“

”Oh so you wanted me to start it so that whenever it does inevitably blow up, you can blame me?”

”That’s not what I fucking said now, is it Colby? I said—“

”No.” It was so incredibly final that it took center in my stomach like a knife. “I’m not—We’re not doing this.”

”So then that’s it?”

”How much more do you want to lose?” It hit me. He wouldn't be able to go back after that kiss.

”If you think we’ve already lost something, then how bad could it be?”

”I can’t fucking do this right now.”

”Oh come on,” I laughed. “That’s so—That’s such a tap out.”

”No, I’m serious. You’re literally asking me to solidify a relationship with you so that when we break up, it can be my fault.”

”That is not what I’m asking you to do. Like, at all.”

”Yeah? Then what is?”

”I’m asking you to stop being so fucking scared of everything.”

Silence.

”I want you to stop trying to control everything around you all the time. You can’t control how I feel. Stop blaming yourself for things you haven’t even done! I’d never blame you if things didn’t work out between us. But I am blaming you if you keep yourself from me just because you’re scared.”

“I’ve never been so scared of anyone like I’m scared of you.”

”Colby—“

”The way you make me feel is too much. I can’t-I can’t fuck us up. I’d rather you at a safe distance for forever than nowhere near me at all.”

”And if it all blows up, what are we going to do?”

”I can't think about that—“

”No, tell me.”

”I swear,” he laughed.

”Colby, tell me now.”

”I—We’re going to stop speaking. I know that much. I won’t be okay for a long time—“

”What if it all blows up but we just stay together anyway?” He was quiet again as if it was the most confusing thing in the world.

”What-What are you talking about?”

”Things go wrong in relationships all the time. That's why only the people who choose to stay together and work on themselves for the other person last more than 20 years. I don’t understand why a disagreement or argument can derail an entire companionship if they actually care deeply about each other.”

The way he said my name made me forget all the other times my name had been said.

”It’s that much?”

”What?” I asked.

”You actually want me that much?”

”I could.” It was the truth. I did want him—badly—and with time, maybe he could be the only one I would want.

”I think I could let myself want you that much too.”

”Colby, stop saying you’ll ‘let’ yourself. Not everything has to be controlled; literally chill out and let things happen.”

”Okay, okay,” he sighed. I, too, was tired of arguing, and with that sweet tone on his tongue, I wished to sleep cuddled into his side. What a way to begin a month apart from each other. “I trust you.”

”Good. I trust you too.”

It felt like the end of the conversation. I didn’t know where it left us, but we were farther than where we started.

I also trusted the fact that we had much time to think about things before we saw each other again.

”By the way,” he said with that goofy tone that I knew meant something outrageous was brewing in that head. “‘Smash and dash was so fucking funny. If you didn’t literally break my heart in that sentence, I would have cried laughing.”

”Oh my god, shut the fuck up. I have no idea where that came from—“

”It was so good.”

The night was brutal. It took me a second to register the fact that I shivered like my life depended on it.

“Colby,” I mumbled. “I care about you a lot, and maybe that’s why I’m so-so protective, or something, of what—or of how I feel. I didn’t want to stress you into something you didn’t want, and I didn’t—I don’t know—I don’t want to see you scared or in pain.”

“I know, I know. I care about you as well which is why I tried to get rid of my confusion and frustration in some way because I didn’t want to hurt you or not be enough for you. It—All of this is a lot, and I’m not ready for it.”

”Maybe we won’t be,” I sighed. My breath piled in front of me. “We can wait.”

”Yeah,” he agreed.

”I’m so sorry but I’m literally—I’m outside because Tara’s in there and it’s so fucking cold so I was going—”

”Oh my god, yeah go inside.”

”Okay.” I stood up. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

”Okay, also, thanks for talking. You can be—god—you’re so fucking pushy and you never back down.”

“And you’re so damn combative it’s hard to not fight with you.”

”No one usually fights me, they leave or, I don’t fucking know, listen to what I say.”

”Ha!” I burst out laughing. “That’s so funny. I only listen to myself. I like you a lot, okay? So I’m going to fight back if you sound like an idiot.”

”And you sound like a spoiled bitch who always gets her way.”

”No,” I dragged out. “I just do this thing called thorough communication, and I never sacrifice the things I value just because some boy wants to fuck me.”

”Whoa,” Colby gasped. “I never expected you to sacrifice anything.” I laughed as my face heated up.

”Oh okay maybe so, but you want to fuck me then?”

“We are not talking about that right now.”

“Oh come on, you could have just said no.”

”And now you sound like the idiot.”

”Whatever, I’m going inside so I don’t have to freeze my ass off anymore.”

”You do that. I’m getting food then sleeping another ten hours.”

”Okay good,” I smiled. “Bye.”

”Bye.”

Even when I curled up in my bed happy and content and warm as I could be, I still shook to my core.

And it wasn’t from the winter air.

I woke up to the sound of an alarm, and Tara sitting up to turn it off.

”Why?” I complained. “Why so early?”

”It’s literally nine am. Let’s get up and get ready.”

”Fine,” I grumbled. I stretched so hard that I nearly missed what she said.

”I was asleep by the time you came in last night, what did you and Colby talk about for so long?”

”Honestly? We just argued the entire time but we’re fine now.”

”What?” She laughed. “What did you fight about?”

”Colby’s personal bullshit. Also, we may or may not date; we aren’t sure.”

”That is literally the most you and Colby thing I’ve ever heard,” Tara laughed as she got up. ”You guys are so exclusively not exclusive.”

”And you are so already breaking your rule for having a boyless trip.” She smiled at me as she pulled her glasses on.

”You’re right. Now get ready; we have bagels to eat and thrift stores to infiltrate.”

The day ended as fast as it came, and when we woke up the next morning, we decided to stay in and have a self care day instead of walking because our legs cramped.

I don’t remember another time my mind emptied of stress and worries about work, scheduling, and recording. Maybe we filmed a few videos, and maybe we vlogged, and maybe we met up with friends for a video, but it was a week of my life that my job melted into a privileged everyday life rather than a literal job.

After Tana and Brooke showed up, it was time for a little less self care to say the least.

He didn't respond.

“You’re breaking the law.” I looked up to Tara who sat on the edge of the bed talking to Brooke. I leaned against the head board and dropped my phone to the sheets.

”What are you talking about?”

“See, I didn’t know if you were or not but you just gave yourself away.”

”What law do we have this week?” Brooke asked.

”No speaking about or texting or calling males this week.” Brooke’s eyes rounded and snapped to mine.

”Who were you texting?”

”N—“

”Colby,” Tara sighed.

”Okay, that’s great. Thank you so much for letting that cat out of the bag.” Then Brooke’s eyes widened.

”Am I not supposed to know?”

”No,” I sighed and scooted closer to them. I stole a gummy worm from the bag in between them. “It’s a situationship I fear.”

”Oh I see,” Brooke laughed as a smirk pulled on her rosy lips.

“And it’s becoming a situation for all of us because you keep texting him.”

”You should be glad we aren’t at each other’s throats anymore.”

”I don’t know if you two being at each other’s throats is as bad as being down them anymore—“

”Oh my god, Tara, no. That’s-That’s too far.”

”Yeah, mhm,” she sighed with raised eyebrows. Tana came from the bathroom. “It’s almost like you were the one who went too far with him first.”

”Who’s him?”

”Colby,” Brooke replied to Tana faster than anyone could think.

”Oh,” Tana said as she looked at me up and down. “Honestly that checks out. Is this new?”

”As of three days ago,” I sighed. My head met my hand as if I massaged a headache.

”It’s actually been a nine month long languished yearning slow burn from both of them but apparently Colby has trust issues and she’s just too cut throat for him.”

”Tara,” I spat. “You are just full of it today aren’t you?”

”Yes, now I understand how everyone else felt when Jake and I first started dating and I’m getting flashbacks so I’m snappy.”

”Clearly.”

”You both are breaking your own law,” Brooke intervened.

”That’s true,” I said to Tara with eyebrows raised.

”What law?”

”No speaking about men on this trip,” Brooke told Tana to which Tana laughed, of course.

”I am a felon.”

✧˖*°࿐

Taglist (Comment to be added):

@a-random-google-user

#colby brock #sam and colby #sam golbach #18+ only #minors dni #colby brock smut #colby brock x reader #rosie writings

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smileyerim · 1 year

Text

the urge to kiss your wine stained lips

The lines are blurring between friends and lovers and you wouldn’t mind taking advantage of it, leaning in closer until you can taste the gin cocktail on his tongue.

pairing: haechan x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive (MDNI!), slight angst

length: 3.5k

warnings: heavy makeout, reader gets tipsy

net tags: @kflixnet @neowritingsnet

happy early 300 followers (still 20 away!)

You’re not naive. Okay, well, maybe you are but that’s not the point here. The point is that your relationship with Haechan is something you care about. Cherish, even. So much so that the idea of screwing it up with him is terrifying. So terrifying that you feel like running away any time you feel those little sparks fly through you any time he does anything that could be perceived as anything other than friendly.

You’ve heard the warning, that guys and girls can’t just be friends but you never bought into it, using your friendship with Haechan as proof. That is, until he got his dick sucked for the first time and dyed his hair pink. He gained such an attractive confidence and his regular teasing jokes started to feel more like flirting and suddenly everything you used to find endearing about him became straight up torturous.

The worst part of it all is that you aren’t just attracted to the new Haechan, you have grown real life big girl feelings for him too. The scary ones, the friendship ending ones. The ones you’d never have the courage to confess to him. The ones you desperately hope he reciprocates but aren’t quite sure if he does.

It’s all come to a head tonight. Of course it does, your hormones are insane and he just got his roots touched up and his hair is styled in a perfect quiff.

Fuck his hairstylist.

You’re scowling, thinking about the damned attractive man in front of you as you down your final sips of red wine in your glass.

“Woah,” he grabs your wrist and that makes you want to groan. “What are you going so fast for? I’m not done yet and you’re already on your second glass.”

There’s a reason for your sudden affinity for binge drinking, but you can’t tell him. He had grown interested in sophisticated life skills recently for some godawful reason and decided tonight was the perfect night to show off his new cooking skills to you.

So now you’re here in your kitchen that you’ve never so much as turned your oven on in, while your “best friend” flies around in an apron making you a meal.

Goddamn. He looks so fine.

You sink, dropping your glass down onto the counter you’re sitting on beside you.

“Bad day I guess.” You lie, swinging your feet back and forth.

He chuckles an extremely attractive chuckle, “Cacio E Pepe will make it all better.” you frown at that, you’ve never even heard of such a dish but it sounds amazing and totally not something that your best friend would know about either.

With the courage of a wine glass behind you, you allow your curiosity to get the best of you.

“Why are you doing this anyway?” You ask, words slightly mumbled from your tipsiness. With a soft groan you pull the cork out of the wine bottle you were supposed to share with him with no difficulty preparing to pour another glass.

He frowns, his eyes not leaving the pan as he stirs the pasta, perfectly pretending not to have heard the cork pop.

“What do you mean, cooking for you?” He asks.

You take a sip, “No, the learning to cook thing. Why? Trying to impress girls?” You try to hide your bitterness but you aren’t sure how well you’ve done it. You take another sip.

He looks at you this time and you want to hide.

He pauses for a minute, an unreadable expression on his face before he looks back down to his pan and says softly, “Something like that.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at that, the jealousy burning alive at the idea that he’s using you as a trial run.

“Well, thank whoever she is for making you want to get your act together.” You jump off the counter and brush past him on your way to the fridge.

Bending over, your head half in the vegetable drawer looking for the gin you keep stocked for nights like these.

“So I’m your fake girlfriend for the evening?” You ask, avoiding his eyes as you shuffle through your fridge.

He giggled to himself at your comment before saying, “I guess so.”

“What was that giggle for?” You tease, poking his shoulder, making him rock a bit and let out another chuckle.

“Nothing.” He says casually before grabbing the pepper grinder and twists, adding his own flair as he flicks his wrist.

Fuck, you’re going to go crazy. If he was anyone else you’d make fun of him for the stupid moves he’s pulling clearly in an attempt to impress you. The issue with that, of course, is that you want him to want to impress you.

So you draw your attention to the cocktail you’re stirring up for him, your own little sophisticated life skill you picked up around the same time Haechan began cooking.

Something about all of this feels insanely domestic and it’s comforting. As selfish as it sounds, you don’t mind stealing the memories from Haechan’s future girlfriend. It’s a life you wouldn’t hesitate to steal from her provided the chance, too.

You squeeze the lemon peel once to spritz the glass before pouring in the spirits and taking your knife to the lemon to curl a perfect twist for his drink.

Satisfied with the cocktail you’ve created for your fake boyfriend (gag, by the way. You’ve never been into cute stuff like this. Of course, until now.) you turn around, placing a hand on his shoulder to grab your attention and hand him the glass.

He smiles down at the glass and then once he’s caught your eyes he says, “Thanks, fake girlfriend for the evening.” His arm loops around your waist, pulling you into him as he plants a delicate kiss on your cheek.

Your brain goes haywire as he doesn’t let you go, taking a sip of the drink. You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand, slightly stunned by the proximity.

Lowering the glass from his lips, he smacks them together and grows a thoughtful frown on his face, “This is your best one yet.” He says looking into your eyes again with a glimmer.

Your stomach drops the moment your eyes lock. And as if he has some sort of insane agenda, his sparkling eye winks at you before letting go to give his attention back to the pan in front of him.

Your wine is calling your name again as you try to will away the blush that’s definitely arisen on your cheeks.

As much as you probably shouldn’t, you pop the cork and top off your glass, situating yourself back up on the counter to watch him again.

You sit quietly and sip, watching his every move. Every once in a while he’ll sneak a glance out of the corner of his eye, a smirk growing on his lips watching you turn your gaze quickly elsewhere as to pretend you weren’t just staring at him.

He’s getting confident, aware that he’s had some sort of effect on you as he pulls out his tricks, gallivanting around the kitchen, faking a French accent as he explains the ingredients to you.

Your face is warm with flush from the wine you��ve been drinking all night and a permanent small smile is on your face as you watch him, eyes low with relaxation.

Maybe it’s the wine, or the “fake girlfriend” title, or the intimacy of the moment that boldens you to flirt the way you do next.

“We should do this more often.” He looks at you, surprised by your first words in a while.

“I cook for you all the time!” He fakes offense and that leads you to laugh and stretch out your leg to kick his hip.

“Not ramen, but this sort of romantic dinner thing.” You half speak into your wine glass, the embarrassment catching up to you but but enough to prevent you from saying it all together.

“Ooooh,” he teases, shifting his weight from one hip to another, “you like the romance, huh?” He giggles and with a smile he attempts to catch your eye.

You blush outright this time, the butterflies in your belly erupt from their cage, sneaking up your sternum when you make eye contact. Quickly, you look away and giggle.

“Shut up.” You whisper, both hands on your wine glass in your lap. You stare down and try and preoccupy your thoughts with counting the bubbles that come to the surface, playing with the overhead light reflection in the effervescent pale yellow.

Thankfully, Haechan does shut up this time and you watch him again, this time he’s lost his playful edge and you feel the tipsiness rock you back and forth, setting your glass down beside you. Maybe it is time to slow down, you don’t want to forget tonight.

He looks more pensive as he continues, he’s standing up straight and is looking straight ahead at the pan. It worries you how when a song you know he despises comes on shuffle and he doesn’t move to change it or complain to you how it’s still on your playlist although you know he doesn’t like it.

The butterflies have settled down probably a bit too much, as you feel a sinking feeling of embarrassment that you spoke too candidly earlier, the flush on your face taking on a new meaning.

“Y/N,” he says with a small voice, looking over to you.

“Yeah?” You croak out, watching with wide eyes as he looks you up and down. You gulp when his eyes linger a little too long on your chest. What has gotten into him?

He drops the wooden spoon in an act you weren’t expecting one bit and traverses the 3 steps over to stand in front of you, his hips inches away from your knees.

His hands find your knees and it feels like fire as he pushes them apart to make space for himself between them. While he’s doing this his gaze is locked on you. Well, your lips, that is. You swallow thickly, trying to figure out his motive as his hands trail farther up your legs and finding their home eventually on your hips. You’re still sitting quite stiff, until he looks into your eyes as if to ask permission. When you don’t protest, he moves in closer and closer until your lips are finally together.

The sparks that are present every time he touches you seem so small compared to the absolute lightning you feel as he kisses you. It’s slow at first, his soft lips moving against yours gently and carefully. He’s holding back in a way you wish he wouldn’t, your hands moving to find the back of his head as you kiss him harder.

He takes the hint, his hands holding you just a bit tighter as he licks into your mouth. You can’t help the moan you let out, absolutely shocked at your own reaction. This is your first kiss with your best friend. Yet you can’t seem to hold it together.

Unsurprisingly, he can’t either as his hands move down just a bit further to tease at touching your ass. You move off his mouth to trail kisses down to his neck where you begin to suck and lick. He’s panting in your ears, his hands grabbing a full handful now.

“So, uh, Y/N,” he says, and you hum in response not picking up on his tone. You’re on a mission you don’t particularly wish to be taken off of.

You hum, moving your hand to his hair and kissing him again, humming to urge him to go on.

“Can I tell you something?” He says and you lean back to get a proper look at him. He looks unbelievably sexy, but you have to ignore that for the slightly worried look behind his eyes. This is not the same man that boldly started this make out session with you. This is Donghyuck, your best friend of 9 years.

“Yeah.” You say, your hands intertwining behind his head, forearms on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend.” He breathes out, avoiding eye contact and looking back down at your lips as he begins chewing on his own.

“Oh?” Your confidence takes over as the butterflies are released from their cage and flutter upwards out of your belly and light up your body in a strange tingly feeling.

“What do you want to be then?” You whisper, eyes wide waiting for him to look back up at you. He does, but only in short sequences as his eyes find yours and then back down. He’s holding his breath, you can tell by how his fingers that were dancing across your skin before have stilled uncomfortably.

He’s taking too long, you decide, so you make the executive decision to get back on track with the original plan by pulling on the back of his neck to join your lips again.

It’s the right call obviously as he kisses you back almost immediately and the tension from the moment before is expressed through strong squeezes of your thigh and ass flesh as his tongue enters your mouth again.

The same guy that kissed you in the first place is back as he situates both his hands on your hips and pulls you forward harshly so that his hips can officially meet yours.

You moan, letting your head fall back at the feeling of him underneath his jeans meets your core. You wrap your legs around his hips as he kisses down your neck, pressing his hips harder into yours and sliding up to offer some much appreciated friction.

“Hae- Haechan.” You stutter, blissed out and he responds with a hum, clearly not appreciating being interrupted on his mission to mark you.

“You- oh fuck” his hand slithers up your shirt to grasp your breast, thumbing your hard nipple through your thin bralette. He smiles into your neck as he listens to you breathe, gauging what makes you make the noises he loves so much.

“You never answered my question.” You half moan out and that makes him lean back from his work on your neck and look into your eyes with an incredulous look. Taking in your stunned features at him halting his work on you, he groans and lifts you up from the counter.

With a squeal you wrap both your hands around his shoulders as he moves to carry you out of the kitchen.

“Wait-“ you smack his shoulder.

“Haechan! The stove!” You point from your look over his shoulder.

“What? Oh” He then chuckes a deep chuckle before walking back into the kitchen, releasing his grip on one of your thighs to turn the knob and remove the sauce pan from the stove.

“Thanks for that.” He smiles at you and gives you a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth drawing a giggle from you.

“That’s what fake girlfriends are for, right?” You joke and something switches behind his eyes, the fierce sexy guy who was just about to carry you to his bed is now looking at you with the same soft heartbroken eyes that he had when he got stood up that one time freshman year.

He sighs long and loud before letting you down. Your feet touch the floor with unceremonious thuds as you watch him take a step and a half back from you, a pained expression on his face as he lets out a sharp breath through his pursed lips.

“What?” You say, concerned by the crease between his eyebrows and the way he won’t make eye contact with you.

You suddenly feel exposed, and extremely stupid. Your roommates were right about you, you are the dumbest bitch on the planet. Why would you say something like that? Bringing up a fake girlfriend joke when he’s trying to hook up with you freaked him out.

“Ouch, I mean ouch, Y/N” You don’t say anything, continuing to stand and stare at him with wide eyes.

“Damn, that hurt to hear. Do you know what you just implied?” He finally looks up at you and you can finally read him— he’s hurt.

“I mean I’ve been trying to prove to you that I’m into you for months. Like months, Y/N. I’m here now cooking a romantic dinner for you and I just kissed you. I don’t know what else to do here. You don’t get it at all.” His hands are flying about, exasperated. His words cut you like a knife.

Your heart sinks and you can’t pin down the emotion that is creeping up inside of you. Similar to relief and shock but it’s more than that, much more.

“You were okay with the fake girlfriend bit before, how was I supposed to know it would hurt you now?” You say, finally landing on your feelings of offense at his words. How dare he make this into something more than it was?

“I was fine with it until I kissed you! I did that and was about to do a whole lot more and yet you still think this is a game to me?”

That shut you up fast. You didn’t know, you truly didn’t.

“I- I didn’t know.” You say, your sternum stinging with the telltale sign you may start crying soon.

“Of course you didn’t, I didn’t tell you but trust me I’ve tried. I just thought you understood.”

“I’m sorry.” A tear slipped. Overwhelmed with far too many emotions of finally having the awareness that the man in front of you is familiar with his own demon of having feelings for you.

At the notice of your tear, Haechan’s face changes from anger to concern as he steps into you, toes touching. His hands find your cold biceps and he rubs his hand up and down to comfort you.

“No, no don’t be sorry. Please don’t be sorry. It’s me, it was my job to tell you how I felt and I was expecting you to read my mind.” He sighs to himself, head hanging low to try and meet your eye.

“I just thought you wanted to hook up. That’s all you’ve been doing nowadays anyway I thought that was happening here too.”

You say, chin still tucked into your chest.

“Fuck, I’m sorry that you felt that way. You could never just be a regular hookup to me. I- I mean I’ve been all about you for a long time. That’s why I was having all those hookups and everything. Like, for you.”

You laugh through your sniffles, finally looking up into his eyes with a teary smile. He smiles back and giggles with you.

“That didn’t sound right I just mean— I meant— I dunno, hookups are hookups but you’re more I hope you believe me.”

“I believe you.” You whisper, eyes flicking between his two. He notices your stare and his smile softens to a comfortable one.

“So, I did my part.” He draws out with a playful tone in his voice, hands still on your arms. “How about you?” His pleading eyes pierce into your heart.

You sniffle once more, hand coming up to wipe one stray tear from your chin. It’s now or never, you think as your heart beats out of your chest. You’re surprised he can’t hear it.

“I like you, you idiot.” You finally speak, giggling at the last word. His face lights up in a bright smile, eyes swimming in adoration as he stares down at you.

“Really?” He gasps and you both laugh, eyes filled to the brim with fondness for one another meeting.

You bite your lip, watching his eyes immediately stare down at your lips as you hum, nodding in affirmation.

He smiles a satisfied wide grin, “how lucky am I?”

His lips barely meet yours in your kiss, both of you simply unable to stop grinning or laughing with joy. When his hand travels down to grab your hips with more passion, you finally kiss him for real. He responds quickly, slotting his pillowy lips with yours, eyes squinting shut.

“You’re my girl now, right?” He says once you both lean away to catch your breaths, cheeks blushing and warm.

You nod again in response, a “yeah,” escaping your swollen lips through a giggle.

His eyes open fully to look at you again and something mysterious flashes in his eyes as his wide hands find the space between your ass and thighs, picking you up swiftly.

taglist: @matchahyuck @shxnz @haechanaceah @haeerisuh @haetkeeper @count-your-shadows @yamaggukie

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

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Wingman Wayne AU pt6 yaaay! | AO3 link

The next time Eddie sees Steve, he knows immediately that the thoughts that kept plaguing him late at night weren't induced by some weird chemical unbalance in his brain caused by eating too much cheese or taking one pill too many. No, those thoughts were very, very real. Because Steve is looking absolutely breathtaking in his stupid tight jeans and stupid green polo and with his stupid wild hair that Eddie just wants to run his fingers through and those goddamn stupid pink lips. Shit.

'Lookin' hot today, big boy,' Eddie blurts out before he can help himself.

A frown appears between Steve's stupidly perfect eyebrows. 'Don't do that, man,' he says, avoiding Eddie's gaze.

'What?' Eddie asks, as if he doesn't know exactly what Steve means: Don't mess up our Very Platonic friendship by getting feelings for me. That wasn't what we agreed upon. Well, it's already too late for that anyway. And honestly, whose fault is that? Exactly, it's the fault of Steve's stupid lips.

'You know what I mean,' Steve says. He's still not quite looking Eddie in the eyes and Eddie feels guilty immediately.

'Sorry,' he says. 'Won't happen again, friend.'

It's only awkward for a minute, until they're both sitting on the couch in the Munsons’ trailer and Eddie easily launches into a whole monologue giving Steve the latest gossip on Wayne's colleague Jimmy because he ran into Jimmy's wife at Melvald's, and he immediately gets reminded why it's so nice to have a queer friend, because, in contrast to Jeff or Gareth or even Wayne, Steve understands exactly what he means when he says “straight people” in a lamenting voice and doesn't get confused when he goes into a minutes-long rant about “straight culture.”

'Dude, stop, you're doing it again,' Steve suddenly interrupts him at some point.

Eddie stops mid-monologue to give Steve a confused stare. 'What?'

Steve nods towards the place where Eddie's hand is comfortably resting onto Steve's knee, fingers stretched all the way into his thigh. Like it belongs there, somehow. Like it’s something natural.

Eddie clears his throat as he pulls his hand away and crosses his arms to keep himself from unconsciously reaching out for Steve again. Is it really that bad to have me touch you? he wants to ask – but he doesn't, because he isn't a completely terrible friend.

'My sincerest apologies, comrade,' he says instead, before he picks up where he left off in his story, trying to act like nothing happened. But Steve doesn't really seem to listen anymore; his gaze keeps wandering away and he barely even shows any investment in the gossip that he usually loves so much.

'You okay, Stevie?' Eddie asks.

A blush starts creeping over Steve's cheeks.

'I don't know how to tell you this without making shit even more awkward,' he says, 'but you staring at my lips for like ten minutes on end is also part of the things you shouldn't be doing.'

Fuck. Eddie is pretty sure that his own cheeks are rapidly starting to reach a shade of red that matches Steve's. He wants to apologize, but somehow, the words get all mushed into something else while they make their way from his throat to his lips, and what comes out is, 'Is it really bothering you that much?'

Steve stares at his hands. 'Yes,' he says softly. 'Yes, it is.' He looks up at Eddie again, and there's a look in his eyes that Eddie doesn't quite recognize.

'Eddie – you were the one who insisted right from the start that nothing about me would attract you, remember?' he says. 'You were the one who proposed to be friends. And I was fine with that, because I wanted to be your friend, and I thought I could keep my feelings under control. So please don't make this any harder for me than it needs to be.'

Eddie's heart is suddenly beating in his throat, his hands sweaty.

'Jesus, Steve,' he says, his voice barely more than a whisper. 'I'm so sorry.' He stretches out his hand, gently letting it land on Steve's shoulder – but Steve immediately gets up from the couch, as if Eddie's touch is burning him.

'Don't,' he says, his voice suddenly cold with frustration. He starts pacing back and forth through the tiny living room. 'Now you're just being cruel.'

Shit. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. The memory of Wayne's soft voice echoes through his head: Can't you just... talk to him?

Of course Wayne was right, he always is. Eddie should know that by now. It's terrifying, the thought of actually talking to Steve - but Eddie knows that he's the only one to blame for this mess, so it’s only fair that he should also be the one to fix it.

'What if I told you I was wrong?' he blurts out before he can change his mind like the coward he is.

Steve freezes in his tracks, finally looks Eddie in his eyes again.

'What if I told you I've been a fucking idiot all this time?' Eddie continues, his heart beating at a nauseating pace now. 'What if I told you I was – I was expecting another Chad, back when my uncle told me about you, and I really didn't want to repeat that same shit again – and you've been continuously blowing my goddamned mind ever since we met. I really, really wasn't planning on falling in love, but Steve, you're fucking fascinating, and with every little bit I got to know you better, I started falling a little bit harder.'

Steve finally takes his place next to Eddie on the couch again, looking at him wide-eyed, lost for words.

'You're the most interesting person I've ever met,' Eddie continues, because he simply has to say it all now, 'and you have such a big heart, and – and I haven't been able to stop thinking about your lips for days – and I really didn't mean to hurt you. I should've given you a fair chance right away and I'm so sorry and –'

Steve suddenly launches himself at Eddie and shuts him up by clashing their mouths together slightly too forcefully, breathing into their kiss and only slowing himself down when he realizes that Eddie isn't going to pull away, that Eddie isn't going anywhere – and Eddie tangles his fingers into Steve's majestic hair as he finally gets a taste of that fucking addictive strawberry lipgloss. It’s exactly as sweet and soft and perfect as he imagined it would be and it might just have become his new favorite taste in the world.

'Jesus H Christ,' Eddie mumbles when they finally break apart, both panting and chuckling shakily. 'Uncle Wayne's gonna be so fucking annoying about this.'

Pt7

Can I just say that all your “look eddie it’s the consequences of your own actions!” comments on the previous part had me giggling kicking my feet?? U r all so right but also eddie is a complete idiot no i won’t take criticism. I am LIVING for all those sweet and funny comments / tags, it means the world and I am cradling them all in my hands <333

(Also everyone saying they feel like a burden asking to be added to the taglist, noooo!! It only takes me a couple secs and it honestly makes me crazy happy that so many of you are invested enough to want updates! I am hugging all of you!!)

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @rainydays35 @cassaloopa @skeliiix @thesuninyaface @silversnaffles @jestyzesty @4nemo1egend @ace-of-foxes @harringtonsgother @thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @thereindeerlady @jillfriend @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gamerdano @spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @00biscuit @mixsethaddams @steve-the-hairrington @episcogoth @caligularib @gaydrieeen @winterbuckwild @bookbinderbitch @daysarestranger @nonbinary-eddie-munson @fangirltofangod @solalasoforth @obsessivlyme @slit-wrist @fxndom-hoe @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @joruni @roastingdragon @lenore1232 @princessstevemunson @cuips-not-cute @munsonsuccubus @justalittlefungi @cherrycolas-things @nitrilexam @thepainisspicy @hopefulslothcollecter @whatisreggieshortfor @doctorqueensanatomy @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sadcanadianwinter @iamsotiredman @orangeandthefairroadkill @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @b-icetea @freddykicksasses @faery-god @poleaxed-aloe @mamaclownhunter @paperbackribs @blvckwidow @mightbeasleep @butuglypeoplefucktoo @lolawon @angryavocadofrog @iwouldsail @livelaughlexa @magpiemuseum @shushuac @ravnlinn @homohomohoe @kissaphobic-kas @cmackz93 @your-greatest-queen @alltheweirdkidsinoneplace @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @ceaselessly-watching @anaibis @enchantedlandcoffee @fluffy-alpaca-of-darkness @nelotegreitic @mollymawkwrites @evix-syne666 @redfreckledwolf @ajamlessbaby @connected-dots @nothisisntmyname @steddieassheg0es @anxiouseds @summer1066 @loopholesinmydreams @mareydi @lillemilly @this-is-moony-lovegood @qomrades @mad-h-w @gay-stranger-things @blanketlicker @fandomcartographer @adankrivervalleynearyou @undreamingscatworld @theysherobinbuckley @i-wanna-combust @stranger-poets-society @fanshipgirl88 @nonhetbts @literallyjustarat @knitsforthetrail @limpingpenguin @spoopy-rayvynnnox @impeachy @ashwinmeird @7boxesofcheerios @nonsense-of-dimitri @azreadytodie @fuctacles @fuzzyduxk @pluto-pepsi @bornonthesavage @what-am-i-doing-with-my-non-life @alanna342 @jinxjinn @ali-just-ali @piningapple @captain-daryn @namelessssho @doltclassic @elsarenard @ramyayaya @my-heart-is-stopped @lightwoodbanethings @goblin-eddie @indie-npc

#only one part left my friends #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #fruity ficlet

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bengiyo · 6 months

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BL 2023 Review

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to write about BL for this year. I was originally going to do a The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly framework for it, but that feels meaner than I actually am about it. Instead, I think I’ll just write out some sections and unpack some things I felt along the way.

I Watched Too Much Again

Last year I engaged with about 92 productions around the world. This year it was 99 (I tracked stuff I completed here). Sure I dropped 18 of them this year, but goddamn. The problem with watching as much as I did this year is that I worked full time this year and also maintained a separate hobby. I also continued my twice-weekly watch sessions with my friend Emily, so there are an additional 100-ish watch sessions in here of rewatching, plus a few other rewatches (Theory of Love and My Ride most notably).

One of my struggles at this point is I’m far too familiar with the genre, and find myself feeling impatient and irritable with shows that aren’t to my taste the way I used to. Throughout the late summer and fall I found myself increasingly grumpier about the genre, and it didn’t get better until I had a holiday and basically slept a day to get some energy back. I also found myself growing apart from fans I’ve known and followed a long time. It’s been a difficult year for me as a long-time fan because my tastes, habits, and friendships in the genre have changed even if the amount I watch hasn’t really.

I Wrote a Lot This Year

I recently converted my watch tag away from my gaming internet persona to just my shortname, so all near-1000 of my Stray Thoughts posts can be found under #ben watches now. I’ve also been going back and adding #ben writes to some of the standalone pieces that I really liked. In reviewing them, the pieces I’m happiest about are my ode to Framboise from Kabe Koji Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to Be Recognized, my post begging everyone to watch La Pluie, my post about what it means to actually like queer men, my SBS ep 10 post that ended up being wrong, my post about the Lavender Scare and Be My Favorite, my Tokyo in April is… post about the breaking of the BL line,

However, the two posts I am most proud of is my half-joking response about why I think tagging each other back and forth across Tumblr in our writing is so important. and The Knowing: Being Queer in BL because I had so much great conversations with folks as a result of both of these posts.

Looking back at my own blog, this is probably the most active I’ve been in my entire time on this website, so thank you to everyone who interacted with me this year, because it really is people talking to me that gets me most inspired to write things down. Big shout out to @lurkingshan who will bug me repeatedly until I blog something that I said in passing.

We Started a Podcast!

After hanging out with @shortpplfedup since Bad Buddy, she got inspired and really wanted to bring something different to the BL podcasting sphere. I had time, and liked talking with her enough, so we started @the-conversation-pod. Now we’re a full year into it and planning out future stuff. It’s been so much fun being able to get things off my soul and break poor NiNi in our recording sessions.

From this year, I think my favorite episodes we did were The Moonlight Chicken Episode, the Eighth Sense episode, the ITSAY Anniversary Episodes, The Wedding Plan episode, , and The Holiday Clip Show. Huge shout out to @ginnymoonbeam for anchoring the transcription process, and @lurkingshan for editing.

The VIIB Awards will begin airing soontm so look forward to that.

Favorite New Term: Business Gay Performance

Let’s be clear, Bump Up Business is not good. It is an obvious BL cash grab from OnlyOneOf that seeks to comment on the fake nature of BL while doing everything it can to trick the audience into believing that the BL pair is real.

Before we got deeper into this year, I was a big fan of a certain pairing, and then their fans took it too far and it affected the way I engaged with their performances and their work. I like that we have a new term for “fanservice” that communicates that you understand that this is for work. (thanks to NiNi for this comparison) I can look at the latest behind the scenes video from Last Twilight and say that I think Sea really understands the work they’re doing, and he and Jimmy have a very relaxed and mature version of BGP without feeling like I’m feeding into shipping.

Do I think they’re dating? No. Do I like the way they fake it? Absolutely!

I can look at one of @respectthepetty posts about Yin and War having personalized, color-coded mics, and we can talk about the next level BGP between the two and both communicate that we know that this is a performance.

It actually makes the extra PR work fun for me again, because now I can just shout “BGP! BGP! BGP!” and it not feel like I’m giving myself brainrot.

Thai BL Needs to Finish Stronger Next Year

Let’s get into some of the show stuff. This year was defined for me by Thai BL starting strong with good premises and then squandering them by not focusing on the details that mattered or leaning into baseless melodrama. Time for some reads. Some of these shows were generally good, but they failed at these things:

609 Bedtime Story: The world building crumpled in the back half and both endings are flat.

A Boss and a Babe: Cher is a pro gamer who worked for a gaming company and there was no plot point about this at all, or collaboration between the two groups.

Bake Me Please: Why was a show about cake so lacking in flavor?

Be Mine SuperStar: You had a real opportunity to explore a fan and idol romance and had Punn show so little growth. I hope the footage of First’s range is helpful now that Ja is out of BL.

Be My Favorite: You redid that whole amusement park date and muddled so much of what the hell happened on that day.

Between Us: You had years to make this interesting. Why are there five pairs and why is the end of this a JC Penny catalog photoshoot?

Dangerous Romance: What the fuck happened to the Sailom we had in episode 1 and 2 before that gun incident?

Hidden Agenda: Tee, what the hell was this? Twelve weeks of this?

I Feel You Linger in the Air: You may be the most beautiful show, with some of the most impressive performances of the year, but you absolutely botched this ending. Finish the goddamn season next time.

Love in Translation: I love you, but that whole kidnapping plot was so stupid at the end.

Low Frequency: I like your OST. That's about it.

My Dear Gangster Oppa: No examination about how gaming friendships become close quickly because of the combination of anonymity and teamwork (shout out to @twig-tea for this excellent summation).

My School President: Saving your gay commentary for the final episode felt like a conservative choice. I want more from you next time.

Naughty Babe: You retconned your own characters to tell a worse story. Unforgiveable.

Never Let Me Go: You didn’t know if you wanted to be a high school BL or a mafia story. It was difficult to watch.

Only Friends: I cannot believe you did Boston like that at the end. Either give Force’s character a clear personality next time, or keep him enigmatic; half measures make him and Book look worse. Sand was absolutely embarrassing. Boeing was a waste. Ending on all of them paired like that felt so unearned.

Step By Step: You forgot to ground Jeng’s external dreams at the end, so the final two episodes are just frustrating.

I’m glad I got that off my chest. We can go into the next year now.

Korea Put in the Work This Year

I really like the efforts from the various Korean studios this year. I really hope we get a Strongberry joint next year, but I want to acknowledge that we had 18 Korean BL dramas I watched this year, and at least three of them I think are must watches: Our Dating Sim, Sing My Crush, and The Eighth Sense. Beyond that, I think Love Tractor, Unintentional Love Story, and A Breeze of Love are easy recommendations.

It’s really impressive how the complaint for me this year with Korean BL is not about them using their time poorly. It’s more about normal drama concerns, where I think characterization is a little weak, or a theme doesn’t land squarely. This rapid iteration from the Korean studios is really impressive to watch, and I’m excited to see what some of the recognized players do next year.

Taiwan and The Philippines Have Been Quiet for Me

I wasn’t really able to connect with much from the Philippines this year except for The Day I Loved You. I never wrote about The Day I Loved You, but this beautiful and heart wrenching show is one of my favorites from this year. I wasn’t too keen on the Oxin Films offerings of this year, and I’m still chasing down the ones from The IdeaFirst Company.

As for Taiwan, this new BL project from the end of the year just isn’t hitting. Kiseki: Dear to Me also ended up really hurting me with the way they used Wayne Song and Huang Chun Chih. I love that angry little man with the white hair, but I’m still salty about Wayne and the general mess of that show.

Japan was Busy This Year

I watched 16 new shows, a few older ones, and a few movies this year from Japan. We haven’t gotten this much from them ever. I continue to love the Drama Shower project from MBS, and my beloved What Did You Eat Yesterday? returned this year. We had pretty stellar outings with Our Dining Table, If It’s With You, and I Cannot Reach You.

I think a third of the Japanese BL I’ve tracked on MDL actually released this year. That’s huge.

Still, I am going to side eye Minato’s Laundromat 2. You were the show that let me down the most this entire year. More than Only Friends, more than Step By Step, and even more than Kiseki. You absolutely blew it. You were telling a great story about a man with an acute case of internalized homophobia coming out of his shell and learning to love his younger partner and you blew it for stupid amnesia nonsense. I will never forgive you for this.

Where Were All the Uncles This Year?

Really, without Jim from Moonlight Chicken, and without the men from What Did You Eat Yesterday? we had an alarming dearth of older gay characters passing on knowledge and wisdom to the youngsters this year. What the hell happened?

Rare Dynamics Won: Second Chance Romance and Friends to Lovers!

We had so much second chance romance this year. It’s really my favorite version of gay romance because gays don’t always have ideal settings when they’re young. We had Our Dating Sim, Individual Circumstances, Jun & Jun, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, Be My Favorite, Love Class Season 2, and A Breeze of Love. I am satisfied.

Friends to Lovers is actually so rare in romance and we have so many to choose from this year! The best examples are I Cannot Reach You and Sing My Crush, but we also have one of the pairs in Love Class Season 2.

Gay Thoughts

I had a couple of ongoing thoughts this year about queerness in BL.

First, I want to return to my post about Sing My Crush and La Pluie, and how I assert that Men Need to Be Angry Sometimes. More than giving men grace to be righteously angry or upset about things, along with letting them express it in ugly ways, I really want to get into how we engage with these shows. I will stop engaging with moralistic reads on characters in 2024. I will no longer engage with asks, reblogs, or meta gripping the fandom where we're judging the moral fiber of the character.

The question that really only matters for me at this point is: Is this act from the character justified from their characterization, the narrative, or genre conventions; and is it interesting? Whether or not the character is good or bad reeks of the lame arguments about good and bad representation, and I am not watching BL like I’m being graded in Sunday school.

The second thing I really want to acknowledge at the end of the year is that the gay sex is finally getting better again. I watched The Novelist this year, and we have taken so long to get back to the space that show took us on the portrayal of male-male intimacy. We are in the genre about people with dicks. It should feel like it. There should be a masculine component there that feels specific to queer intimacy.

I will acknowledge 2 Cutie 2 Pie, A Boss and a Babe, Be Mine SuperStar, Bed Friend, Candy Color Paradox, For Him, I Cannot Reach You, Kiseki: Dear to Me, La Pluie, Love Class 2, Love in Translation, Love Mate, Middleman’s Love, Naughty Babe, Only Friends, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, and Wedding Plan for your contributions.

Final Thoughts

I like how broad the genre felt this year, and I enjoyed how much speculative fiction is entering into the conversation. I don’t know how I feel about there being five vampire stories in the works next year, but overall I’m glad that we’re getting more experimental concepts. I’m burnt out on the college engineering BL, and would like to see more shows about working adults.

Despite how grumpy I was for at least three months, I think this has genuinely been one of the best years we’ve ever had in the genre. I made a lot of new friends in BL this year, and I’m excited to see what comes next. Thank you all for spending some of your time with me this year and I’ll see you in the next one.

#Ben writes #best of bl 2023 #bl series #thai bl #japanese bl #taiwanese bl #filipino bl #korean bl #ben watches

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

Note

Reader and Eddie both being clumsy shy virgins and Eddie ands up creaming his pants eating them out

-🧚

I LOVE THIS THOUGH BC LBR, HE WOULD. reader is 18, as always!

imagine that you & eddie have been friends for awhile now, and you're both smoking weed one night in your room. you're reminiscing about your childhood friendship, about how everything has always been glorious with the two of you, and how you would never trade the other for anything. you're best friends, through and through, and you've never had a single fight; tonight, that's what comes up. you're both giggly, heads pleasantly fuzzy with pot, and you're telling him how grateful you are for him and how he's never once fought with you, never once said a bad word to or about you, and never judged you for anything. he thanks you in turn for the same, and then after you both laugh at that (it's so goddamn funny, because you're both giggly when stoned), you play a game of truth or dare.

it goes smoothly for awhile, until you choose truth again in one round. eddie grins at you, flat on his back with his hair spread all around, his knees drawn to his chest as he takes a drag from a cigarette he was smoking. he meets your eyes, winking before saying: "who was the last guy you slept with?"

you freeze, but soon erupt into giggles at the question. he looks at you in confusion, but his gaze is expectant, waiting for an answer. you feel your face growing hot, and realize that you would have to admit the truth to him. it was a topic that never really came up, one that was always assumed because of your dating history. however, the truth was, you never had sex before--not even hand or mouth stuff. and you admit that to him, shyly and absolutely mortified, hiding your face from him. but he's tilting your chin up as he sits up slightly, smiling softly before caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"hey, no," he says gently, shaking his head. "no, it's okay. i...look, i know you probably assume that i'm getting groupies by the loads at every corroded coffin show. the truth is, i've never actually...i've never done anything past a blowjob before."

your eyes widen, and you look at him in surprise. "you're kidding."

"cross my heart and hope to die," he says as he puts a hand to his heart. "i never have. i've never been attracted to anyone, except--i've just never been attracted enough to anyone else."

"who are you attracted to?" you ask teasingly. "you could always ask them; she would be the luckiest girl in the world."

he blushes at that, chuckling again as he pulls you close. "well, she already knows now. kinda."

"what--" you begin, but you're cut off as he presses his lips to yours.

this is hardly your first kiss with him, but it's the first one that actually mattered. the first time he kissed you was when the two of you were drunk, in the back of your best friend's car as they drove you home from a party. you didn't mind it, though, and neither did eddie. in fact, you hoped he would do it again after that, only he never did. tonight, though, with the way he's kissing you, you forgot that first kiss even existed. this one isn't fueled by booze and drunk thinking; it's fueled by passion, by love, by such desperation & longing that you feel your breath being stolen. you never knew that eddie could be such a fantastic kisser when he wasn't sloppy drunk, but goddamn if he wasn't surprising you right now. his lips moved softly, chastely, his tongue swiping your lower lip before he draws away.

"i've never wanted anyone else but you," he admits, his cheeks still red. "i know it's ridiculous, because you're my best friend, but i can't help the way i've always felt about you."

"no, don't say that," you say, taking his face in your hands. you stroke some of his hair back, tucking some behind his ear as you press your forehead to his. "i feel the same about you, too."

"you do?" eddie asks in surprise, and your only response is to kiss him again.

that kiss turns into making out, which then turns into hands & lips wandering, which then turns into the slow removal of clothing. you never thought that anything could feel so good as his lips on your neck, and then on your breasts, and finally, on your inner thighs. both of you are clumsy in your movements, and eddie's inexperience does show with you, but you don't mind. you know that you're just as inexperienced as he is, and this is a journey that the two of you would be taking together. it feels amazing, and you're so glad that you can share yourself with him this way. between clumsy kisses, fumbling with each other's clothing, the blushing of his cheeks and the heating of your own every time your teeth bumped together, everything was absolute fucking paradise.

and then eddie is eating your pussy, and oh god, it's wonderful. he doesn't really know how to do it properly yet, since this is his first time, but he's still incredible at it. his tongue drags experimentally through your folds, groaning at your taste as he grips your thighs. you moan, arching a little as his tongue swirls all through your pussy, even pushing inside once to test the waters. you cry out, one hand flying to his hair to hold on as he starts to slowly push it in & out. you look down at him, chest heaving as he looks back at you, brown eyes full of lust as he does so.

"doing okay?" he asks. "you're enjoying this, right?"

"very much," you admit, your cheeks warm. "i promise."

"good," he says, and his cheeks turn red as he admits: "i'm really fucking hard right now, y/n."

you giggle, feeling more heat in your face as he sets back to work. he eats you out until your legs are shaking, and you're a moaning, writhing mess above him. he's moaning against your cunt, his grip on you tightening as his eyes squeeze shut. his groans get louder, his body spasms, and his grip is getting tighter on your legs, which causes you look at him in confusion. before you can ask if he's alright, he's opening his eyes to look up at you, pulling his face away and wiping the bottom of it with one hand. he looks absolutely mortified, his doe eyes widening as he begins to stutter. he's blood red, glancing down at the crotch of his pants as he ducks his head in shame.

"shit," he whispers. "y/n, i just..."

you sit up a little, concerned as you examine him. "what happened?"

"i just came," he says, still not looking at you. "i'm so fucking sorry, i--"

"shh, hey," you say, reaching down so that you can tilt his head up. "it's okay. we can always try again later, or tomorrow, or any other day. it happens sometimes; it's nothing to be embarrassed or ashamed about."

"you're not mad?" eddie asks, his face flickering with relief.

you laugh, rolling your eyes playfully before booping his nose. "when have i ever been mad at you in my life?"

"okay, i guess that's fair," he says considerably, lazily kissing your inner thighs. "do you want me to finish what i just started, though? maybe it'll get me...you know, ready again. i'm really, really enjoying this, a lot more than i ever thought i might."

"i'm not going to refuse that," you reply, lying back on the bed and opening your legs further as you feel heat in your cheeks. "i wanna know what it's like to cum with someone else, namely you, so..."

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things blurb #stranger things imagine

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alwaysonthemend · 1 year

Text

A Night of Revelry | JTK

Author's Note: Here it is! My second GVF fic! This one got away from me a little bit and ended up a lot longer than I meant it to be. But oh well, Jake just has that effect on me. Again, this is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Summary: The boys are finally back home on a hiatus from tour and are enjoying some much needed rest and recovery. A dinner party at the Kiszka's house leads to you and Jake admitting some long kept secrets to each other. A night of revelry, indeed.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of being drunk, fingering (f. receiving), hand jobs (f. receiving), p. in v. sex, unprotected sex (ya'll know better!) swearing, dom Jakey (yes, that's a warning) 18+ MINORS DNI

Word Count: 4544

Preview:

“Since you want to cum so bad,” Jake says with a dangerous smile gracing his lips, “you’re going to come over here and ride my thigh. And I’m going to sit here and watch as you make yourself come apart. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

From the very first moment that you met Jake, the man had been an enigma. He was quiet – content to allow others to fill the silence for him. At first, you’d mistaken his reservedness for shyness. But as you got to know him, you found that he is by no means a shy man. He’s quiet, sure. But he’s confident in himself. Confident to dress as he wishes and to like the things he does without a care in the world. From there, you had assumed that his quietness must be a result of growing up in a household with Josh. Josh loves to talk and you had figured that Jake was simply allowing him to do so. And for a time, that was that. Jake was the moon to Josh’s sun and was simply content to let others fill the silence for him.

But as you started to spend more time with him, you discovered that he wasn’t always that quiet. When he’s around his brothers, or Danny, or other close friends and family, Jake has a wicked sense of humor that can have the whole room clutching their sides with laughter. His dry sarcasm and witty rebuttals are unmatched – even by Josh. Not only is Jake hilarious, you soon discovered, but he loves to talk if it’s about the right subjects. He’ll talk for ages about films he likes or dislikes, or he’ll go on rants about things he reads, or podcasts he listens to. And of course he’ll talk for ages about his music. His eyes light up when he’s excited about a topic, and in those moments, you can see the same animatedness and excitement that his twin has.

The first time you saw Jake play on stage, you saw yet another side of him that you had never seen before. Seeing him up on that stage changed something in you. He commanded attention. From the way he threw his head back as he played to the way he muttered under his breath to his guitar, everything about the man oozed confidence and sex appeal. You’d gone into the show with a growing crush on him, but you left completely head over heels for the man. Time passes, and you only find yourself more and more in love with him as the days go on. And as much as you want more than just friendship, you figure that it’s best to keep your burgeoning feelings to yourself. Jake is a sweetheart – always showing you kindness whenever the two of you hang out. But he’s so out of your league it’s almost funny. He’s a goddamn rockstar, for goodness sake! He could get just about any woman in the world if he really wanted to and you’re fairly confident that out of all of them, you wouldn't be the top choice.

There are times when you think that maybe, just maybe, he might have feelings for you too. He’s always so attentive to you when you spend time with him – remembering little things that you tell him and always seeming to know when you’re having a bad day. And every now and again he brushes his fingertips over yours when he hands you something or his hand will ghost over your waist when he passes. But you try not to linger on those moments too much. He’s a gentleman who always makes the people around him feel at ease and you realize that it’s just the way Jake is. He’s too kind for his own good (and your own good) so you do your best to push the feelings down.

It’s nights like this night, though, that make crushing those feelings down so difficult. Tours are on a temporary hiatus and the band members are back home for some much needed R & R. And tonight, Karen had invited all of the Kiszka siblings, Danny, and several other family members and friends over for an intimate night of stories and spending time with one another. Dinner had been loud and exciting – as all meals with the Kiszkas are, and now the guests are all intermingling amongst themselves as the sun sets into night. Some are inside, polishing off the dessert and staying out of the summer heat. Others are gathered outside around the fire, sharing stories as Jake and Sam gently strum on their guitars. Naturally, you find yourself gravitating towards where Jake is. You’d just spent a good 30 minutes talking inside with Danny about whether Kurt Cobain actually wanted to kill himself or if he was just trying to get away from Courtney Love (you favor the latter), but now you’re feeling that familiar tug in your chest that always stirs whenever you’re away from Jake for too long. There’s a part of you that’s embarrassed for how attached to Jake you’ve become. You’re independent and consider yourself to be a fairly rational individual, but there’s something about Jake that makes all that fly out the window. You want – no, you need to be close to him. He’s gone so much during the year and you miss him like a limb that’s been chopped off. His absence aches with phantom pains and you figure that you deserve the reprieve of spending time with him while he’s here.

You take a seat in one of the empty lawn chairs next to him and he gives you a small, private smile, before turning back to Ronnie as she tells a story. His cheeks are flushed with alcohol and his dark, wide brimmed hat lies discarded at his feet. You tune everyone out, and instead allow yourself to watch Jake’s fingers as he plays the guitar. No matter how many times you see and hear him play, his talent never fails to make you feel all warm inside. He loves his music, and his playing reflects that love. It’s like he’s sharing a piece of himself with you all – and you’re thankful that you get to hear it like this. He’s beautiful. That’s the only word you can think of to describe the way he looks right now.

“You alright?” He asks, noticing the absent look in your eyes.

“Hm?” Your eyes snap up from his hands to his eyes. “Oh. Ya, I’m good. Just tired, is all.” You can feel your cheeks grow hot as there’s no way he didn’t see you staring at him.

“Too much alcohol, darling?” He laughingly says in his fake British accent that he’s so fond of.

“Yeah,” you laugh in relief, thankful for the easy excuse. “Drank a little too much wine, I think.”

He smiles and immediately you feel at ease again.

“Happens to the best of us.” He says wistfully, back in his normal accent. “I myself have also partaken a little too much tonight.”

“You?” You gasp dramatically, “Jacob Kiszka drinking too much? I’m shocked.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“I know. It’s not like me at all.”

You both turn your attention back to the rest of the group as Josh stands up and dramatically tells a story about something or other, though you still are entirely too aware of Jake’s presence next to you. He puts his guitar down and helps himself to another generous glass of bourbon as the night goes on. The night bleeds from too late into too early and you feel the tendrils of sleep beginning to cloud your thoughts. You stopped drinking a while ago and your buzz from earlier in the night has all but disappeared. You stare into the fire, the warmth from the flame coupled with the voices of your friends lulling you into a relaxed trance.

“Care to join me for a smoke?” Jake asks, startling you from your reverie.

“You know I don’t smoke.” You scold him lightly.

“I know.” He says, rising from his seat and extending his hand towards you. “Join me anyways?”

You nod and take his hand, allowing him to lead you around the front of the house to a more secluded area. From here, you can just barely make out the voices of the others as you round the corner out of eyesight. Jake leans back against the house and turns his face up to the sky. He looks painfully beautiful like that. You swallow and look away.

“Thought we were coming over here so you could smoke.” You say, following his line of sight up to the sky.

“Changed my mind.” He shrugged, turning to look at you. “Come next to me.”

You pin him with a confused stare but comply. You walk over and lean your own shoulder against the house, careful to leave space between the two of you.

“I’m glad you could be here tonight. I missed you while we were gone.” He’s looking back at the sky now and you take a moment to watch him. His cheeks are still flushed and his hair is pulled back in a loose bun. You don’t respond for a moment, carefully choosing your next words.

“I’m sure you missed being home with all the craziness of being on the road.” You finally say. “I’m glad you all are back. It gets boring here without you guys to cause chaos.” You laugh, looking back up to the sky.

Jake turns to you suddenly and grabs your arm.

“No, seriously,” He says, staring at you in the moonlight. “I missed you.”

You turn to look at him and he’s pinning you with that stare that makes you feel like he’s looking right through you – seeing every single thought that runs through your mind.

“I missed you too, Jake. More than you know.”

He lets go of your arm, seemingly content that the urgentness of his words were heard.

“I hate having to leave you here when we go,” he says, “I miss you so damn much.”

You turn to look at him and he does the same, his dark eyes locking with yours, You don’t really know how to respond. Hearing him say that to you makes your heart flutter in your chest. But you’re wary, too – wary of reading into his words wrong. That little spark of hope rears its head and it’s all you can do not to lean over and kiss him right then and there.

“I hate it too, Jake.” You whisper, afraid to speak into whatever it is that's just taken place between the two of you. But before you have time to process what’s happening, Jake presses his soft lips to yours. You’re so stunned that you don’t kiss him back and he pulls back wide eyed.

“I’m sorry.. I- I don’t know why I did that without asking first. I-” His eyes are filled with embarrassment and you can’t help but feel bad for him.

“It’s okay, Jake.” You interrupt him.” I just don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret in the morning.” You take a breath to try and steady your heart rate as Jake stares at you.

“So, you didn’t kiss me back because you think I’m too drunk?” He asks slowly, seemingly trying to process your words.

You sigh. It hurt before, but hearing him say it out loud made the sting all the more painful.

“Yes, Jake. You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose our friendship over a drunken mistake.” There’s a small, hopeless little part of you that wants to say ‘fuck it’ and kiss him again anyway – even if he’ll regret it in the morning. Because deep down you know that this is the last chance you’ll ever get. You shove the little voice down.

“We can just act like this never happened.” You assure him.

“And what if I hadn’t been drinking before this?” He asks. “Would you have done the same?”

You purse your lips and look away. The pain of this whole situation is settling into your bones, heavy as lead.

“It doesn’t really matter, Jake.” You say honestly. “Whatever you’re feeling right now, it isn’t real.”

Jake looks at you and his eyes carry a hurt in them that you’d never seen before. You want to look away – run away even, if it meant that you wouldn’t have to see that look in his eyes again.

“I know it’s real, y/n. I may have been drinking, but it hasn’t given me feelings that weren’t already there.” He lets out a shaky breath. “The bourbon just gave me a little more courage to do something about these feelings.”

Your mind is awash with thousands upon thousands of thoughts and feelings. Hope, excitement, disbelief, fear; they all swirl through your mind so quickly you can barely catch hold of any of them. The thought that he might have feelings for you feels absurd. He’s Jake fucking Kiszka. It’s too good to be true.

“You promise me?” You beg, practically shaking with all the emotions running through your mind. “Please, Jake. I can’t take it if this is just you getting caught up in the moment.” And it’s the truth. If this isn’t real, you doubt you’ll be able to survive it.

“Answer my question first…” He says, stepping closer to you. “If I hadn’t been drinking and I kissed you, what would you do?” Jake’s eyes are shiny in the moonlight – his expression open and hopeful.

Oh, fuck it.

“I would kiss you back.”

“Oh thank fuck.” He says, before crushing his lips to yours again. This time, you don’t hesitate to reciprocate, opening your mouth and allowing him to explore your mouth with his tongue. You feel dizzy with excitement and disbelief. You’re making out with the guy you thought you could never have and holy shit, it’s better than you ever dreamed it would be.

“I promise you,” he says in between kisses, “that this is real. Realer than anything I’ve ever known.”

Jake brings his palms up to cup your cheeks and you place your hands on his shoulders to draw him closer to you. The smell of bourbon and vanilla floods your nose as he presses his chest to yours. He pulls away and you let out an embarrassing whine. He stares at you – his brown eyes swirling with passion.

“Y/n,” he says quietly, “what do you want?”

You take a moment to drink in his appearance. He looks incredible with his hair pulled back. His trademark silver necklaces rest against his collarbone and his cream colored dress shirt is unbuttoned all the way down to his stomach. There’s a glisten to his skin from the summer heat and you’re struck with the sudden desire to taste its saltiness.

“I want you to touch me, Jake.” You plead.

He gives you a smirk and his eyes dance with mischief and excitement.

“Come inside. My room.” He laces his fingers with yours and the two of you slip inside, completely unnoticed by the merry crowd outside. You skirt around the kitchen where everyone else still resides and you both bound up the stairs to Jake’s old room.

Stepping into Jake’s old room feels personal. You’ve been in here before, but it still feels like you’re seeing something you’re not supposed to. The walls are covered in music posters, with artists from Cream to John Lee Hooker. The room smells like Jake – if a little faint, and several old guitars sit leaned against the wall. You stand in the middle of the room, suddenly overwhelmed.

“Y/n?” Jake asks, coming to stand beside you as he places a warm hand on your shoulder.

You look at him, taking in his beautiful features in the darkness of the room. The only light source coming from the moonlight spilling through the window.

“Are you okay?” He asks, concern replacing the desire that had filled his eyes just moments before.

“Yes, of course! I just-” You trail off, unsure how to put your feelings into words.

“Y/n, I swear that I’m not that drunk. I’m a little tipsy, for sure. But I know what I want. I want you.”

“I want you too, Jake. I do. This all just,” you wave your hands in a vague motion between the two of you, “this all just doesn’t feel real. I’ve spent so long thinking this was never a possibility and now I’m just a little overwhelmed to be honest.” You look down at your feet. This is all just too much to process in such a short amount of time.

Jake walks over to his bed and takes a seat, gesturing for you to do the same. You follow, sinking down heavily beside him.

“Look at me.” He says, placing his index beneath your chin to turn your face towards him. “Why can’t you believe that I want this?” He asks, a small hint of a smile ghosting his lips.

“I just never thought that someone like you would be interested in someone… like me.” You say honestly.

Jake furrows his brows at you.

“Someone like me?” He grins and you can see the spit on his lips glisten in the dark. “Is it because I’m a rockstar? Super famous? Thousands of screaming fans all across the globe?”

You scoff and nudge your shoulder into his playfully.

“Not helpful at all. But yes, I guess so.”

You both sit in silence for a moment. Your body is thrumming with nervous energy.

“I’m not sure what I can say to convince you that I want you, y/n.” He says into the dark, eyes trained on the wall opposite the two of you. “I’ve always been drawn to you. Your smile, the way your eyes light up when you talk about things that excite you…” He turns to look at you now, his expression soft. “But this last leg of the tour, y/n…It was worse than usual. I missed you so damn much. I couldn’t ignore this any longer.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” His eyes are full of truth. You see no lie in them. “Tell me if you want to stop, y/n.”

You nod and allow him to push your back into the bed. He grips your thighs and spreads your knees apart before settling between them. You reach behind him and pull the hair tie from his hair, allowing it to fall freely to his shoulders. He chuckles and kisses you again, much softer now than before.

“Let me show you how real this is.” He whispers.

“Please, Jake. Whatever you want.”

That seems to be all the permission he needs as he swiftly lifts your shirt above your head before sliding your skirt down your thighs. You reach out with shaky fingers and undo the few buttons that he had bothered to fasten, and you slide his shirt down and off his shoulders. Jake attaches his lips to your neck, leaving warm kisses down your throat. You moan and paw at the belt of his pants, desperate to feel more of him against you.

“Patience, love.” He laughs as he unhooks your bra and throws it to the floor. “I want to make you cum first. We’ll get to me later.”

He dips his hand into the waistband of your panties and slides them down. You kick them off as they pool around your ankles. Jake brings a calloused finger to your pussy, swiping through the wetness gathered there.

“So wet…” he purrs, “All this for me?”

“Only for you, Jake. Only for you.”

You whine as his talented fingers begin to circle your swollen clit, just the way you had always imagined him doing when you watch him play guitar. He keeps his pace slow, teasing you and drawing out your pleasure.

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this, y/n?” Jake asks as he begins to pick up his pace. His fingertips are rough, but the friction is so good you can barely think straight.

“I dream about this pussy all the time – I dream about seeing you like this, all desperate and needy, and I wake up so hard it hurts.” He sinks his middle finger into you slowly, while his thumb continues in lazy circles on your clit. He crooks his finger inside you, brushing against your walls in a way that makes you arch your back in pleasure. He smiles, and slowly inserts his ring finger into you as well, pumping in and out of you slowly.

You whine and buck your hips up to meet his hand, desperate for more. The sound of his voice, gruff with lust, is sending shocks of arousal straight to your core.

“Jake, please,” you beg, as he curls his fingers inside you, “stop teasing.”

He laughs lowly but doesn’t give you anything more.

“Use your words, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

“You know what I want.” Your voice is shaky and comes out in practically a whine. “Stop teasing. You already know.”

“Wanna hear you say it. Wanna hear those filthy things coming out of that pretty mouth.”

He’s unrelenting in his teasing. You’re so close, but he won’t give you that last bit that you need to finally snap the coil building in your belly.

“Please, Jake.” You moan, “Need to cum so bad. Need you to make me cum.”

He grins and you think that he’s finally going to give you what you want. But he doesn’t. Instead he sits up, pulling his fingers from you, and leans back on the headboard, leaving you laying there confused.

“Jake?” You ask as you sit up, feeling the wetness of your pussy leak down between your thighs.

“Since you want to cum so bad,” he says with a dangerous smile gracing his lips, “you’re going to come over here and ride my thigh. And I’m going to sit here and watch as you make yourself come apart. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

You nod, breathless. You crawl your way over to him and swing one leg obediently over his thigh. You can see his cock straining in his pants and your mouth waters at the sight. Next time, you know that you want to taste it. You slowly ease your aching pussy down onto his leg and roll your hips experimentally, dragging your clit against the fabric of his pants.

“There you go, sweet girl.” Jake praises. He grips your ass with both hands, digging his fingers hard into your flesh. He’s looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. You roll your hips again and start up a steady pace, the friction exactly what you needed. Jake slides one hand up to your breasts, circling and pinching at your raised nipples. His other hand stays where it is, solidly gripping your ass and keeping you grounded as you ride his thigh into oblivion. You quicken your pace as he mutters encouragement under his breath and your orgasm crashes through you like a tidal wave, and you moan his name loudly as you ride your way through the pleasure. You slip off from him and collapse onto your back next to him.

“Jesus Christ, you look gorgeous like that.” He says as he rises from his seated position. “Such a needy, desperate little girl, aren’t you?” He says as he unbuckles his belt and slips out of his pants. He leans over you and brushes a strand of your hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear – the softness of the gesture a stark contrast to his dominant words from before.

“Kiss me.” You say, not at all embarrassed by the neediness of your request.

“I’ll kiss you a thousand times if it’ll make you believe me when I say that you’re the only woman I could ever want. I want you, y/n. More than anything else in my entire life.”

“I want you too, Jake. Since I met you, I’ve wanted this. Just never thought I could have it.”

“Well, you have it.” He says, brushing his lips over yours. “You have me. And now I’m going to fuck you just to prove it even more.” He pulls his boxers down his hips, allowing his hard cock to spring free. You gulp. He’s big – bigger than anyone else you’d ever seen.

“On your hands and knees, sweet girl.” Jake says as he pumps his cock a few times. You comply and groan loudly as he sinks his length into you slowly. He bottoms out and pauses, allowing you time to adjust. The coldness of his necklaces on your back feel good against your heated skin.

“Move, Jakey. Need you to move. Now.” You say as you press your face into the pillow.

Jake grasps your hips firmly and begins a brutal pace, pistoning his hips into yours. You moan loudly as he groans into your ear.

“God, you’re so fucking tight, y/n.” His thrusts are fast and hard, rocking your entire body forward with each one. He feels so good you can hardly even think straight. All your thoughts are entirely consumed with Jake, Jake, Jake.

“Don’t stop, J. ‘m so close.” You can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching and you start to rock your hips back to meet Jake’s thrusts. He wraps one arm around your belly, pulling you tighter to him as he picks up his pace even more. Your face is buried in his pillow, desperately trying to muffle your cries from the other occupants of the house.

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?” Jake asks, as he drops his hand to circle your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Jacob!” You wail as you finally cum, legs shaking as it tears through you. Your eyes are watering and your vision whites out from the sheer pleasure. Jake’s thrusts are erratic, desperate.

“Say it again, y/n. Gonna cum in your tight, little pussy.”

“Jacob- please.” You moan at the overstimulation and that’s all he needs.

“Oh fuuuuck.” He groans as he spills inside you, breathing ragged in your ear.

He pulls out of you, and you collapse to your stomach, utterly spent.

“Stay there, sweetheart.” He mutters as he rises to get a wet washcloth. He returns quickly and you roll onto your back. He cleans you up softly, careful on your abused clit and pussy. He hangs the washcloth on his nightstand and crawls into the bed next to you. Placing a kiss to your forehead, he pulls the blankets up and over the both of you.

“That was… incredible.” You sigh, exhaustion hitting you like a brick wall. You lay your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

“You’re incredible.” He says quietly, voice so soft compared to before. “I meant what I said, you know?”

You glance up to look at him. He’s got that look in his chocolate brown eyes again – the one that makes you feel like he’s looking right through you.

“There isn’t anyone else that I would rather be with than you, y/n. It’s not just about sex, as incredible as that was. I want you. As much of you as you’re willing to give me.”

You press your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“I believe you. I want it all with you, Jake.”

He huffs out a small laugh and kisses you again.

“Thank fuck.”

“Mmm.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes and nuzzling into him. “My rockstar.”

You miss the adoring smile Jake gives as you fall asleep.

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