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minerva-net · 5 months ago

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four times

chris sturniolo smut

warning: corruption kink (not too obvious?)

summary: four times you misinterpreted chris's statement that he's never had his first kiss, and the time you change that.

the first time it's brought up, it's long forgotten.

"When we meet next month, you can give me my first kiss, too." Chris mumbles into his pillow. He has one eye looking at me through the camera. It's funny.

Three weeks before seeing each other, we can't seem to stay off the phone when going to sleep. We're both laying down together on the phone. It's a normal occurrence at this point. Calling has become a normality between us unless I have to be at work, he's filming, or a device dies.

"Yeah?" I ask.

He nods his head. Laughing a little bit to myself I decide to mess with him.

"What makes you think I'd kiss you?" I tease.

"Because I'm your handsome and hilarious boyfriend you cannot resist." He protests.

"I guess we'll see..." I sigh. My voice growing quiet as I close my eyes. I feel my whole body feel heavy as sleep weighs down on me. I can only hope it joins Chris as well as he has a long day of filming ahead of him.

the second time it goes over your head.

As I'm trying to maneuver around Mount Olympus to kill someone, I'm quickly shot from behind from another player. I throw my hands in defeat stopping myself from yelling into the headset.

We're two weeks from seeing each other, and have been doing all that we can do together online. We're both playing fortnite, it's been a long night of one or the other being carried to victory.

"I died again Chris..." I sighed. For some reason I'm not on my game, maybe it's the tiredness from playing so late, or I'm just losing my skill.

"Don't worry princess I got this." Chris says.

As I spectate him he easily gets my killer and the player I was going after originally. He takes time to go through the last person's loot before being shot at himself. He's able to use his fists to run and hide to heal himself. As he wanders around the area he finds who was trying to attack him, and downs them with ease.

There's something about him being good at fortnite that makes my heart flutter alongside the pet name.

"Don't mess with the big dog!" Chris yells into his mic before making howling noises, grunts, and barking.

I could only smile.

"You're an animal, so aggressive." I comment.

I feel a question bubble inside me. "Are you going to act like this when we see each other? Manhandle me to do what you want with me? Throw me around? Show me how to obey you?" I ask.

Chris is silent, maybe I said something wrong? I give myself some grace due to the lack of sleep.

"Nah... I want my first kiss and time to be slow and sensual maybe? I don't know, but if you want more we can try that." Chris says.

I don't understand what he means by this. Did ye want our first kiss together to be special?

"What're were your other first kisses like? Were they expected, unexpected–" I ponder for another question. "What's gonna make mine so special?"

He's silent before answering.

"Well... I've never–" Chris begins.

I hear another voice on the line that must be one of his brothers.

"We're about to leave so we can eat! Let's go!" They say.

"Well wait, I'm on the phone–" Chris says.

I cut him off. "It's fine. Go eat with your brothers. We can continue later tonight."

"Okay... Call you when I'm home y/n. I love you." Chris says.

"I love you too Chris, talk to you later." I say.

By the time he comes back from eating, the idea to continue the conversation is forgotten.

the third time you realize your mistake.

"I think you're going to like this new lip balm I bought. It's cherry flavored, and coming with me to Cali." I say.

There was only one week before we see each other. There's a tingly feeling each time I think about it.

"Yeah? I don't mind cherry, you should bring other fruit flavors so we can try them out." Chris says.

"You're right I should, we could do the chapstick challenge from a few years ago. I can post it on my account since I'm private," I say. "I want to kiss you until I can't breathe." Thoughts just spilling.

Chris's end is silent. I fill the void.

"Well, what if you don't like the flavor, though? Would you shove me away? Or have you kissed another girl who liked to have flavored lip balm and didn't like it?" I trail off.

Chris interrupts me. "I wouldn't know what I like and don't like... I've never kissed anybody."

I laugh at his joke.

"Are you being for real? I can't tell if you're joking." I laugh.

"One hundred percent serious. Never had a first kiss, or anything else." He says.

I sit in the break room in disbelief. There's no way this boy hasn't kissed at least one person, even a small one when he was younger would be okay.

I didn't realize how silent I was on my end.

"Is that okay with you? Need me to get some practice in?" He teases.

"No–no that's awesome. That makes me feel good. I can't wait to show you new things and be your first." I explain, I couldn't contain my smile at this news.

I can't help but think about how he'll act when we kiss. Will he let me take control? Will he try to figure things out as we go? Or will he surprise me when I see him.

"I'm excited for you to be my first for a lot of things. Can't wait for next week." Chris says.

"Me too."

the fourth time you take it to your advantage.

"So what are you going to do on your last night being a virign?" You ask.

Chris laughs. "I'm not sure... maybe jerk off or something?"

"Are you right now?" I ask, curious.

"No–Why–I'm just saying since... You asked what I'd do as a virigin." Chris tumbles on his words. I smile as I realize he's nervous.

I hum. "Okay... if you say so."

Suddenly, an idea pop into my head. Why not mess with him? If he wants his pay back he'll easily get it back tomorrow.

"I'll be back," I say taking out my headphones before he could respond. Muting my phone taking it with me.

I go to my bathroom, turning the light on. I decide to mess with him a little bit. Lifting up my shirt to show off my bra, I quickly take a few pictures at different angles. However, I decide to be brave and hook my finger through the front of my bra lifting it to reveal my breasts. I take a few more pictures before thinking if I should go lower. I go against it, and wait for when I can see Chris in person.

I go back to my room and unmute the call and put my headphones back in.

"Back." I say.

"Welcome back, that was quick." Chris replies.

I nod my head before realizing he can't see me. "Yeah I just went to get water." I say. I think about my next statement but give myself a pass. "Gotta make sure I'm hydrated for when you got me squriting tomorrow."

Chris chokes at that, gasping to catch his breath. I laugh at his reaction, expecting something lighter than what was given.

"Is that—something—you can do?" He asks.

Wanting to be difficult I ask him to clarify. "Not sure what you mean. What's the full question?

He clears his throat before mumbling quiet.

"Do you squirt?" He asks.

I stop myself from laughing. Smiling wide instead. "I've been known to." I say.

"Do you like... Have—a video of you?" He asks.

I can tell he's nervous, but that makes it all the better.

"No... but I have something better." I say. I send him the bra and braless pictures I took earlier.

I hear his phone drop and shuffling happen on his end before the call abruptly ends. I stare at my phone confused, surely not expecting that reaction from him. Still, I laugh a little before getting comfortable in bed waiting for him to call back. On queue he facetimes me instead.

"Christopher." I say.

"Sorry—" He begins before taking a breath. His face is flushed red like a cherry. "I panicked. Definitely wasn't expecting anything tonight." He says nervously.

"It's okay loverboy..." I trail. "What'd you think? Ready to see me tomorrow?" I ask.

"Yes. Fuck. A thousand times yes." He says. He mumbles a few other words after.

"I didn't hear you? What'd you say?" I ask.

"It makes me want to–Make this night—Makes me want this night to go faster..." He says clearly thinking of what he wants to add. "I want to see more of you. I need to see you. Feel you too." He adds.

I smile at him through the phone, and he does the same before looking away.

"Well in less than 24 hours we'll see each other and I'll be in your arms." I say.

He nods his head. I see his face turn into one of thought.

"What're you thinking about Chris?" I ask.

"I'm just nervous. I feel unprepared to see you? This who physical touch will be uncharted territory from how we have been." He explains. "I'm also nervous about if we do... do something more intimate." He adds.

I click my tongue before answering. "That's normal. I'm nervous too... Even if I'm not showing it. I feel like we'll be okay y'know? I think after 3 months of being long distance we'll be even better than before?" I say. "And can I be honest with you?" I ask.

He nods his head.

"It's expected for you to be bad... I'll still like it because it's you though. There's nothing wrong with that. It's your first time, and it won't be like what you've seen in a porno or something... We can decide what is good for us." I say.

Chris makes a sound of approval rather than saying anything. I don't say anything assuming he's getting tired. We sit in silence before I hear a small noise and shuffling from him. I look down at my phone and only see Chris's hair which was stuck to his forehead.

"What're you doing?" I inquire.

"Chillin." He responds. "Had to get comfortable." His voice is out of breath and jagged.

Not believing him I shift to my side and listen more intently. I don't hear anything else but decode to pry.

"Can I see what you're wearing? You saw what I was." I ask.

Chris makes a noise before answering. "I guess—that's fair... Give me a few minutes." He says.

I could care less about his outfit. I figure it's grey sweats and a shirt or no shirt. I only care about what's on his lap and what he's doing.

Before he shows me I hear fabric moving, Chris's failed attempt at being quiet. He lifts up his phone before making a quick swipe down his body. It's hard to see what he was wearing exactly, but I decide to be obvious.

"Can you show me your pants again?" I pry.

"Just my usual grey sweats." He says. I figured but his red face says something else is going on.

I smile at him, he's knows he's busted but I decide not to say anything to make it too obvious.

"Why not show me? I want to see if they're my favorite."

"I—It's the one with the blue 'C'." He says.

"Show me Christopher," I say, giving him a straight face.

Chris's face becomes a deep red. His eyes show that he regrets his decision just slightly, but accepts his defeat. He flips the camera and very obviously stood his cock in his sweats. At the top was a few small dots. Only one could assume it was from his previous activity.

"Interesting..." I start. "Do you care to continue for me?" I ask politely.

Chris chokes on his words before saying. "Yes ma'am."

My stomach feels tight and my legs squeeze together. As much as I love this I never anticipated the night before we meet to be like this. Despite this, I watch his hand appear on the screen and into his sweats. Instead of doing the obvious he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps himself in his sweats.

"Show me. Take it out and let me see." I say.

Chris whines at this. He lifts up his hips and takes one hand to pull his sweats and boxers down to his thighs. His cock comes out and lands on his stomach. His tip leaked precum onto his stomach, and his tip a darker pink after being left neglected.

I rake my eyes up and down, taking it all in. He's good looking and well managed. It's almost ashame he couldn't use it for good.

"Good boy." I mutter. "Let me see you. Continue jerking off."

Chris takes his hand to his dick and wraps around it slowly like he's nervous. But he continues, he pumps himself and goes back up to thumb his head. Slowly but surely, he increases speed as he nears the tip with each pump.

I consider sliding my hand down my pants, but go against it for better judgement. I want to see him work, be there for him. His whines and moans get louder and higher as he chases his high.

"I'm going to love having you tomorrow." I mumbled. Chris bucks his hips into his hands at this. He continues to moan and fuck his hips into his hand. I can hardly control the small moan that escapes my lips as I watch.

When he finishes, he moans my name letting white stripes coat his stomach. I smile at him as he flips the camera. I'm so ready to be with this boy tomorrow.

when you finally meet it's life changing.

"I would say every video there's a least one argument to be made whether someone likes it or not–" Chris explains to me as we walk into his room.

It feels wild to finally be in California, let alone Los Angeles. When his brothers picked me up at the airport, I was amazed to feel him. He felt so real in my hands. We hugged for a good while before Matt honked, saying we needed to not hold up traffic.

We all spent all the spent the day having the boys showed me their favorite spots to visit. From clothing stores to a pizza shop they regularly visit that's been shown in their vlogs.

Chris decided to sit in the middle seats with me so I wouldn't have to sit next to his "icky" brother Nick. It was nice to see him in a different position rather than a bunch of pixels. We held hands the entire time we were out, and he'd open my door each time we got out. I wanted to kiss him when we first saw each other, and after each gesture but held myself back waiting until we could have a moment together.

—

Sitting down in his bed, I ignored what he was saying as he put my bags by his desk. After he finished his story, he sat down next to me. He kept talking... Just like on the phone, he can't seem to stop talking. As much as I enjoy hearing him talk, I need to start what we were do excited for last night.

Rolling my eyes, I swing a leg up, then over his legs as I push him back. I sat on his lap, looking down at him with a big smile. He looks around the room before back at me while lifting his hands.

"You can touch me y'know? I'm not going go break." I remark.

His face turns into a deep red shade as his hands land on my hips. His grip is firm and secure. He takes the chance to squeeze the flesh on my legs before rubbing his hands up and down my thighs.

I choose to be bold and rock my hips on him and leaning down having our chests flush with each other. Chris can only stare at me with his mouth agape. Our noses touch, but I rock my hips again for extra measure and met with him bucking his hips up.

"Ready for your first kiss loverboy?" I coo. His face turns into a deep red shade as he nods his head profusely.

I cup his face, taking a hand to push his hair back so I can take a good look at him. Blue eyes looking back at me with large pupils. I tilt my head to the side before slotting our mouths together. I keep it light and quick before letting go.

"There you go." I smile against hisdating.

I press back in a little to give him a chance to move. However, his lips are limp and unsure of what to do. I decided to be a little more daring. Dragging my tongue along his bottom lip, I lightly nip at him.

I wasn't expecting the reaction I got out of it, but loved it nonetheless. His hands gripped me harder, one sliding down to my ass. He took this as a chance to lightly squeeze it.

I move my hand to the top of his head, carding my hand through his hair before bringing it down to his nape and lightly pulling on his hair to disconnect us. He whines at the loss of contact.

"You got condoms?" I ask. Chris nods his head before pulling my head closer to his to kiss me again. He returned the favor back as he licked and bit my bottom lip. I smiled at the gesture. He was a fast learner.

As I sat on his lap I felt his dick grow hard and twitch with each motion of our lips moving, and the slow rock of my hips. I let out a laugh against him.

"Calm down, calm down..." I whisper. He whines and does as told.

I keep my lips on him, both of us limp. It's nice just feeling our lips together as I stroke the back of his neck with my nails.

"Can–can you–can you touch me baby?" Chris asks. He's cute. His eyes are wide with swollen red lips. His desperation is cute. I give in since he's been so good.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" I know exactly where, but I'd like to drag this out for as long as I can. He closes his eyes as he pulls my head to rest on his forehead. I hum as I wait for his response.

"Anywhere, everywhere. I dunno, I just need you y/n." Chris says.

I slide off him to the floor between his legs. I place my hands on his thighs. I look up at him before speaking.

"Are you sure you're ready Chris?" I ask.

He nods his head quickly, but I giggle at this. "I need words, baby." I chastised.

"Yeah–yeah–yes I want this... I want you," He says. He brings a hand down to my head to cup my cheek. He brushes a thumb against it. "You're so beautiful y/n..." He mumbles.

I couldn't help but get nervous myself and begin to blush a little. Coming back to my senses and what I sat in front of him for, I unbuckle his belt and hooked my fingers around his jeans and underwear. Taking the signal, Chris lifts his hips up to let me pull down his pants to pool at his ankles.

It felt surreal to see him so... raw. While I saw him last night through a screen, it didn't do him much justice. He was a nice size and I couldn't wait to have him when I pleased.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." He teases. I roll my eyes at him and pinch his thigh. He hisses at the pain, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Maybe another time... Are you sure you're ready?" I'm not nervous, but I can't help but feel the need to get double confirmation.

"If I didn't want this you wouldn't be on the floor right now." Chris says.

He's not wrong, but I'd never tell him that. I click my tongue and move my face to lay feather light kisses along his thighs. I start close to his knee and work my way up to his pelvis, alternating between each leg. As I grow closer to him he twitches a little with each kiss.

I place a kiss on his tip before laying a few more along his thighs and stomach. Chris brings his hand up to my hair, making a ponytail.

"Stop teasing..." He mumbles.

"Patience, patience... You're gonna have me for a month." I say.

He mumbles something I couldn't hear but don't care enough to ask what he said.

Finally making it to where he needed me most, I wrap my hand around the base of his dick. I take my other and spread the precum that was coming out of his tip down the length of him. A small noise comes out of his mouth. I smile a little in approval.

I slowly pump my hand up and down him, trying to mimic what I watched him do last night. I took my time going down, but sped up a little as I went up and squeezed his tip more precum leaking out.

Chris began to groan a little louder and more with each motion. His grip on my hair grew a little tighter.

I look up at him through lashes. His eyes are closed with his mouth agape. Small gasps are falling from his lips. While I'm looking I guess he felt me staring, and shoots me a smile.

"Can you–can you—can you do one–one–thing for me?" He asks, out of breath.

"Of course, baby." I say.

"Could you use your mouth? I've been thinking about that since you started..." He says.

I couldn't help but smile again, he's so cute. He whines again as I stop moving my hand. I lean forward a little bit to be closer to him. His grip on my hair loosens a little bit. I stick out my tongue and kitten lick at this tip before licking a long stripe from base to tip.

Chris groans and bumps his leg up at the feeling. His breaths start getting heavier as I take his tip into my mouth. I slowly move my head down a little before going back up, using my other hand to pump the base of him. I bob my head up and down on him, taking my other hand to squeeze his balls.

Chris's breath turns into a pant as my name falls seamlessly from his lips. My name comes out almost like a chant...

"Y/n—y/n–n/n..." He mumbles.

His hips start to buck up a little more frequently as I speed up. I feel his dick twitch lightly in my mouth. His grip on my hair loses that loose grip as he tightens and helps move my head up and down.

He makes one loud groan and grunt before cumming in my mouth. I take it and swallow it. Taking my head off of his softening dick I wipe my mouth. I look up at Chris and his eyes are closed while small pants fall from his mouth.

"Wow... that was—I can never say I never had head before." He jokes, wiping his forehead pushing his hair back.

I couldny help but laugh too.

"For sure. How're you feeling?" I ask.

"Amazing... Are we gonna do more?" He asks.

I think about it, but look at his bedside clock. As much as we stay up late on the phone tonight I'd rather go to sleep.

"Maybe another time... Like I said before you have a month with me." I smile, getting up.

He makes a sound of slight disapproval.

"Don't be mad. Let's shower, I want to go to sleep somewhat early." I say.

"We never sleep early, though! We need to watch our show!" Chris exclaims, following me to my bag where I grabbed my night time belongings.

"And tonight I want to. Just because you got head doesn't mean you can act like you're all that." I say.

Chris huffs as he gets his stuff too before joining me in the bathroom.

a/n: idk if I like this... 😔 lmk if you do and send requests pls! ☺️☺️

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut

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phantomwritr · 1 year ago

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The Road Trip (2/?)

Hello all and welcome back to The Road Trip (with Max and Lewis)! From now on all parts will be tagged with “#the road trip au” and “#the road trip” for those of you who wish to follow along :). All right, on with the show!

—

Max dawdled in front of the Mercedes motorhome. The lights were on inside and the silver star gleamed menacingly overhead.

Taking a deep breath, Max dashed inside. In a moment of utter panic, he realised he had no idea where to go. So, onward he went.

Max had almost made it through all the way to the back, when suddenly Toto fucking Wolff appeared in his path. The tall Austrian looked Max up and down, then continued on his way.

Frustrated and determined not to show how lost he was, Max continued on his way too. That’s when he heard it. Voices. Lewis.

Max steeled himself and knocked on the door. A head peered around the corner. Fuck, it’s George, Max thought. If there was anyone he got along with less than Lewis Hamilton, it had to be George Russell.

He had potential, but he was even worse than Hamilton in most aspects.

“What are you doing here,” George sneered.

“Hey!” Max heard Lewis shout from inside. “Don’t be rude. Who’s our guest?”

If Lewis only knew he was telling his teammate to be nice to his arch-rival. Max knew as well as anyone that if any driver was going to challenge Max all the way to the last race, it was going to be Lewis.

Max dreaded the idea. If Mercedes really did catch up, it was going to be 2021 all over again. He’d much rather drive out front, thirty seconds ahead of the next car than scrap with Hamilton every single race.

“It’s Max Verstappen,” George said, looking Max up and down. “By all means,” Max heard Lewis say, “let him in then. You don’t let the reigning champion stand in the hallway!”

“Fine,” George acquiesced as he stepped aside with a fake smile. “I’ll go,” George announced as Max stepped past him and came face to face with Lewis.

“Yeah, all right. Enjoy your evening, George!” Lewis shouted after the young brunet. George didn’t respond and Lewis just rolled his eyes.

“Don’t pay attention to George. He was just busy explaining to me that him impeding me in quali was actually my fault and that he would’ve finished ahead of me if he had driven a good quali lap, so…”

“Never thought I’d say this, but what an idiot. There’s no way he would’ve finished ahead of you,” Max said, raking his hand through his hair as he tried to hide the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

Lewis only smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. “Don’t flatter me, Max. Our relationship isn’t like that. Now do tell, what brought you here?”

“Well, I have a favour to ask,” Max asked, his eyes downcast.

“A favour? My, my. A day full of surprises indeed. What kind of favour?”

“I wanted to ask if you’d like to go on a road trip with me.”

Lewis immediately sat up straighter and arched an eyebrow. “You want me to go on a road trip with you? Why?”

“Well, it’s for the socials. I thought, you know, if we could show our fans that we can get along…” Max paused, knowing Lewis understood what he meant.

“They’d stop warring. If you think it’ll work, then sure, I’ll come.”

Max let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Just like that? I thought this was going to be way more difficult.”

“Just like that. When are we leaving?”

“As soon as we’ve gathered our stuff, I think,” Max said with a shrug.

“Very well then, let’s get packing. And I’ll call the dogsitter that she’ll need to take care of Roscoe for a while longer.”

By the time they made it to the car with all their luggage in tow, the social media crew was already waiting for them.

“All right,” someone said. “We’ve outfitted the car with cameras and GoPro’s, in the most non-intrusive spaces of course, so they won’t hinder you as you drive. The fans will be able to follow you as you go—with a delay of course or else you’re getting nowhere—and you’ll be required to film a daily report. Now, you can always mute yourselves should you want to have a private conversation, but of course we’d like to get as much as possible on camera and with audio.”

Max and Lewis shared a look, but Max couldn’t quite read the other man’s gaze. Especially when all he did was smile politely. Was it real, was it fake, Max didn’t know.

“And where will we be going?” Lewis asked.

“The plan is for you to tour around Italy and then drive to Zandvoort from there in time for the Grand Prix,” some social media intern piped up as she handed them their itineraries. “Any further questions?”

“Yes,” Max said. “Who will drive the first leg of the journey?”

“How about you drive?” Lewis said, a beaming smile on his face as his teeth glinted in the sunlight.

Max shrugged. “All right. In that case, I think we’re done. What do you say Lewis, should we get on the road?”

As the Range Rover with the two drivers inside drove away, Christian shared a look with the head of the social media crew, who asked, “How long until one of them begs us to come pick him up from the side of the road?”

“I give it two days,” Christian said, hiding a chuckle behind his hand. “You willing to put money on that, boss?” the Social Media Manager asked.

“Yeah, £100 says they’ll last two days at most.”

“Noted,” the Social Media Manager said. “I’ll see your £100 and raise you £500, by saying they’ll last a week.”

“And I’ll see your bet and raise you both,” a third voice with a thick Austrian accent piped up. “£1000 says they’ll make it all the way to Zandvoort.”

“That is bold, Wolff,” Christian said. “We’ll take it. Let’s see which one of us ends up being right. May the best man win.”

They shook hands to make it official.

—

All right, that’s it for part two! Hope you enjoyed and please let me know your thoughts🫶🏻

#4433 #formula one #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #f1 fanfic #christian horner #toto wolff #f1 rpf #mawis #the road trip #the road trip au #the mawis road trip

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wordynerdygurl · 2 years ago

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Someone to Watch Over Me

Part 1: “Love is Blind”

Author’s Note: Do you think the Duffer’s realized what they were doing when they brought Eddie Munson to life on paper? I don’t think so. Because it’s been, what, nine or so months now, and I’m still all in on my favorite ne’er do well metal head.

This is my first time with an Original Character standing in for “reader”. Just like with my reader insert fics, our OC is female and plus size. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size OC Amanda Patterson Summary: It’s love at first sound, pitch perfect and fated, everything in harmony. If only life were a love song.

Amanda and Eddie meet by chance but their connection is real. Some night music and milkshakes maybe all it takes to show that Hawkins’ resident bad boy is worthy of love. The kind of love a misfit like Amanda is ready to give to the right guy. Have they each found the right someone to watch out for them? Warnings: This is a slower burn than my usual, but I think it’ll be worth it. There will be SMUT in additional chapters, but for now, there’s making out, eating a lot of junk food, some size shaming and self doubt. Oh, and a character gets slapped.

“There’s a saying old, says that love is blind”

1990

“So, Eddie, how’s the tour been going?”

Pulling a long strand of dark hair over his cheek, a nervous habit he couldn’t seem to break, Eddie raised his dark eyes to the reporter asking the questions, ignoring the video camera and boom mic hovering overhead. It took everything in him to keep the sarcastic edge in his tone to a minimum, “Well, Chuck, it’s been a helluva time. Me and the boys, we’re just taking what comes. It’s been fuckin’ amazing to see so many cities and of course, our fans.” “Oopsie! Can’t curse like that, Eddie. Can we cut around that?” Chuck was asking some producer, talking over Eddie’s head, ignoring him all in the name of being appropriate for television. Already he was over this whole experience. What Eddie really wanted was to get back to the green room, have a beer or a smoke- scratch that. And a smoke, before having to play tonight’s show.

The conversation around editing was still happening, Eddie’s interview on pause. It gave him a minute to evaluate the man asking the questions. Smarmy, yea, that’s the word Eddie would use for a guy like Chuck. Hair slicked back and suit a little too colorful to be classy, the guy was cheesy as hell, but he was going to film a piece about the band. Something for MTV to use in promos or some shit. Eddie didn’t really care to know. There were people for that now. The same people who kept assuring him that there was no such thing as bad publicity. Not when there was a nationwide tour that needed to sell tickets and t-shirts and records, so he bit his tongue and smiled sheepishly, waiting for the next question. “We rolling? Great. Ok, ready Eddie?” Nodding in answer, Eddie gave him the green light. The interviewer tapped his finger against the skinny microphone in his hand, picking up seamlessly from where they had stopped earlier, “That’s good to hear. Now, Corroded Coffin plays specifically metal but who has influenced your musical journey? Which artists do you listen to?” Blowing out an exhale, his lips parting, Eddie thought for a minute. “Ya know, all the greats Chuck. I mean, I cut my teeth on Led Zeppelin. Heart, Black Sabbath, obviously-” he rolled his eyes for emphasis, “-Iron Maiden and Metallica. You play metal music and I’m there, man.” Chuck nodded along, agreeing with everything coming out of Eddie’s mouth, trying way too hard to seem interested. He seemed more like a Madonna kinda guy, too caught up in the look of something to worry about its substance. It grated on Eddie’s nerves, set his teeth on edge. “Gotcha. So, the people want to know-” Chuck drug out the question, clearly enjoying the way he baited his interviewee, “-What is Eddie Munson’s favorite song?” Toffee colored eyes widened. Despite the movement around him, the roadies hauling in speakers and gear, the conversations between stage crew and security guards, the clicking of boot heels on parquet flooring, Eddie could hear it. His favorite song. Clear and distinct, the memory a perfectly preserved bubble of sight and sound. From over his shoulder someone coughed, bringing Eddie back to the here and now. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to zone out there.” “Don’t worry, we’ll edit it out.” Chuck’s hand made a motion urging him to continue. Eddie’s ring laden right hand rubbed across the skin on the back of his neck, internally debating just how real to be with his response. In the end, Eddie told the whole truth. He spilled one of his deeply held secrets to a douche bag with gelled back hair and a smile that was too much teeth. Looking directly into the bubbled lens of the video camera, Eddie offered up a reluctant, almost embarrassed smile, “My favorite song? That’s a great question, man. And, uh, ya know, I wanna say something hard rocking and fast. But honestly? Someone to Watch Over Me by the Gershwin brothers.” Eddie’s voice was practically a whisper at his admission. He was ready for a ribbing. A hard rocker like him, known for bad boy behavior and leaving a lady behind in every city? No way Eddie Munson could possibly be a romantic at heart, right? Fully expecting a laugh from smarmy Chuck, some jab about the softness of his choice, or a comment on it being a standard, something old fashioned or behind the times. But Eddie only heard the insipid agreement of the interviewer, “Great song. A classic.” “Yea. It is.”

—

1987

It had always come naturally to Amanda. She opened her mouth and the sound just came out, warm and round, with the right amount of inflection and sweetness of tone. Singing was what she did. From the time she could talk, Amanda was making music, using her body as the instrument. Church choir taught her how to sight read sheet music, her voice moving up and down the scale in time with the half and quarter notes. Learning how to let her high Soprano melt in with the other members of the chorus so that no individual could be heard over another. Discovering the power of dynamics; an effective hushed line that built into a climaxing crescendo, the rush of belting out a powerful note with all of the choir members doing the same. Amanda continued to discover the best ways to utilize her voice, really only ever happy when she was humming or whistling or belting out a tune. One Christmas there was a tawny wooden guitar under the tree. She carried it with her everywhere she could. Teaching herself the chords from a beginner’s guide until she could play “Frosty the Snowman” without stopping. And her unquestionable love of music grew with every new song she memorized until the entire book had faded from overuse. There were high school musicals, of course. Grease, Annie, Guys and Dolls, Anything Goes. And even if she was always the sidekick with no solo, hanging around in the back of the chorus lines, she loved performing. Being on a stage, with the lights and excitement, the tension of anxiety turning into the power needed to propel her through the show. Amanda lived for the thrill of it. Something could go wrong or things could go incredibly right. In either case, you could never truly know which way it would play out until it was happening. Then, the curtain would fall and there would be bows and applause. Amanda loved the spotlight, absolutely and unequivocally. Only, the spotlight didn’t love her back. Her round, full cheeks wouldn’t do to play Sandy. The curvy, womanly figure she’d grown into wouldn’t work for Annie or Pepper or even Mrs. Hannigan. Despite the lovely, lyrical quality to her voice, it wasn’t enough to outweigh her looks. So Amanda sang out loud and long from the back row of the chorus, her robe tight across her ample chest. She learned the simple choreography for musical numbers and was told, “you’re so light on your feet” as if it was shocking to see. Every year was a new chance to gain that place in the middle of the stage, singing for all she was worth for everyone to hear, but never making it due to a healthy appetite which made her soft in the places where people would rather she be firm. It was the bitterest of pills, but she swallowed it, happy just to be involved. Pleased to have her name printed in the program as a participant even if she was living off of the scraps of lesser performers who just so happened to look prettier under the hot stage lamps. She accepted hugs from the pretty boys who tried on singing and dancing as a way to meet girls, but wouldn’t give her a second glance. The boys who saw her as the funny, talented friend of the group. Always happy to drive everyone home, listen to everyone’s troubles, offering sage advice and asking for nothing in return. That was Amanda.

All too soon, school was ending. Over. And college loomed in front of her, full of promise and secret worries.

She knew what she wanted, what she had always wanted. It had never changed despite the wacky directors who hid her behind scaffolding or pushed her to the dim corners of the stage. Amanda was on the earth to do one thing only: make beautiful music. It was, after all, her favorite thing to do. Unfortunately, it was also incredibly difficult to make a career out of, something her parents constantly felt the need to remind her about. They only wanted what was best for her, that’s what they said anyways. And what was best, in the opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, was a steady job as a hairdresser or nurse or preschool teacher. Anything really to fill the gap until she met “the one”, got married and started having their grandchildren. Too bad Amanda loved the music so much more. It had taken a lot of work, hours and hours of debating and shouting but somehow she had convinced them to let her go to school for music. The catch? She’d also study education. It was a compromise Amanda was willing to make, just to get her foot in the door. Worst case? She’d wind up a music department chair at some high school or another, a great back up plan to her real dream: musical super stardom like Linda Rondstadt or Carol King. Only, school was expensive, especially when you were trying to make music your career. And her parents did as much as they could, which she was incredibly grateful for, but everything cost so damn much. So, almost broke and entirely desperate, Amanda searched around until finding a part time position at The Music Shop. She started selling sheet music and drum sticks, auto tuners and guitar straps from a squat building painted an obnoxious shade of ocean blue that could be seen for miles in any direction. Occasionally there’d be a student in need of some musical mentoring and she’d drag out her acoustic guitar, the tawny one she kept in its cardboard case after all these years. Showing them where to hold their fingers and how to press against the tough strings in order to get a pretty sound out of the instrument brought her a lot of joy. It was still making music and that was enough for her between class work and socializing and generally trying to be a good person. The college classes related to music and music theory were fascinating. Her collection of records and tapes had grown significantly. It seemed as though every new person she talked to had a list of bands she “just had to listen to” and Amanda did. How could she ever thank her roommate’s boyfriend for turning her on to Lou Reed? Did she live before knowing all the words to Pirates of Penzance? How did Whitney Houston sound so incredible all of the time?

Writing a paper on the importance of Tom Petty’s ability to pen pretty lyrics, Amanda found herself surrounded by like minded musical folks. She was invited to parties where everyone sang along to the radio, getting rowdy in the tame way theater kids everywhere are prone to do. Drinking beers was fun. Smoking cigarettes killed her throat through and Amanda refused to damage her instrument with nicotine like that. Besides, she couldn’t afford them anyway. When she wasn’t studying or singing or stocking, Amanda did gig out. Sometime during her first semester she had been approached by Jim, a cellist, Mark, a drummer and Carly, a pianist. Having met the threesome at someone or other’s pre-Thanksgiving break bash, Amanda hadn’t realized it right away but she was casually auditioning for their band. Not once did her size come up. All the three seemed to care about was how quickly they could get her into a rehearsal. They had a jazz trio and wanted someone to vocalize for them, someone with a soft tone, an easy timber that could get them playing in front of bigger crowds. That she blended in with their group dynamic made it an easy fit and soon, the four of them were playing shows together all over the area and regularly too. Now, well into her third year at school, Amanda had a good idea of what her life was going to look like. She would work the store, teaching a couple of private students the ways of the guitar, and sing out with the band on the weekends. If they happened to get a wee bit drunk after a show, who could blame them? After all, they were barely twenty and the world still had so much left to show them. At the music shop, one late September Saturday, Amanda took a minute to hang up the flier for Hawkins’ Autumn Concert Series. Their quartet had been asked to entertain, practicing for weeks now getting the set list perfect for their biggest concert yet. Smiling happily to herself, she gently forced the pushpin into the cork board where the typical announcements of used instruments for sale, lessons for keyboard or piano, and imploring alerts for new band members all co-existed in a colorful, clashing collage. Stepping backwards, Amanda wasn’t entirely paying attention, her mind already drifting to the highlight of the performance. What she was going to wear, how she’d do her hair, all the little details that she liked to get right in an effort to make sure that the show went off without a hitch. That’s how she missed the fellow who was crouched down behind her, ringed hands reaching for the Iron Maiden song book that was propped up on the bottom shelf. Her booted foot hit something solid, something that shouldn’t be in the aisle, and she turned quickly. A blur of black leather and curls flew upwards fast. The joint of her ankle rolled and Amanda reached out blindly, connecting with a solid wall of a person, holding on with a death grip to keep on her feet. Holy shit, did this chick have pretty eyes. It was his first thought and boy, was it a doozy. Eddie could see the shock clearing as worry crept in, crowding around the wide irises, her lips parted in a panicked “o”. Clipped nails clawed into the denim vest he always wore, holding herself upright against the unfair tug of gravity, her forearms pressed tightly to his chest. Bringing a steadying hand to her wrist, he shook his head, shyly smiling, “You alright there? Took a bit of a tumble, didn’t ya?” Inhaling shakily, Amanda nodded dumbly, her heart still thrumming. Still standing much too close to a stranger. She had been certain of falling but having this, this guy break that fall, was disconcerting in an entirely different way. “Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t see you, and-” “Hey, it’s ok. No harm done, so long as you’re ok. You are ok, right?” There was a brief flash of concern that crossed his face, but it faded when Amanda bobbed her head at his question. She hadn’t moved. Eddie was still looking down at her upturned face, the way her hair fell softly against her cheeks and the sweet sweep of her nose making her look about as precious as he had ever had the pleasure to see. Eddie didn’t want to look away. For another beat they stood there, together, surrounded by score books and tutorial materials while an instrumental version of “Don’t Stop Believing” played through the store speakers. Shifting in his Reeboks, Eddie swayed to the melody and Amanda let herself be carried along with him. In another second, Amanda was certain that she would wrap his arms around her waist and call it a day. Already, Eddie’s free hand was sliding towards her shoulder, another point of contact with this unknown, but very cute, man. “Yo! Amanda? Are you-” Kyle’s voice cut through the force field around the pair. At the sound of her manager’s shout she panic jumped back far enough to thud against the very cork board which held her proudly hung announcement, knocking the air out of her lungs with a grunted, “Oof!” “Jesus! What are you doing?”

Amanda’s eyes went wide at Kyle’s intrusion, and she pressed a hand to her chest to stop her startled heart from bursting free from the unused adrenaline, “Me? Kyle, you scared the crap out of me!” Eddie’s head had snapped towards the interruption before pivoting back to the pretty lady he now knew was called Amanda. His hand reached for hers reflexively, to help steady her, the same shy grin tugging at his lips. That she took it and held it like a lifeline sent a zig-zag of energy from his fingertips straight to the muscles of his tummy which tightened at the contact. One of Kyle’s eyebrows shot skyward, his face skeptical, “What’s going on over here, anyway?” He asked as if he already knew the answer, questioning eyes full of judgment. Amanda’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly. What was going on back here? She didn’t know, really. Luckily, Eddie did. “Uh, your beautiful sales associate was just helping me find this-” holding up the song book with Iron Maiden’s logo splashed across the cover, he continued, “-and uh, then you came around the corner and, ya know, scared her half to death.” “Were you dancing?” Sneaking a quick glance her way, Eddie chuckled, “Dancing? While she’s supposed to be working? Naw man. Like I said, she was helping me out.” His arms crossed over his chest, Kyle stared directly at Amanda, all but demanding her side of the story. Running a palm up her neck, leaning into her hand, she exhaled loudly, “He’s- he’s right, Kyle. I was just giving him, ya know, a hand.” Narrowing his eyes, not believing either of them, Kyle groaned in frustration, “Fine. Whatever. Just, I had a question for you. Ya know, when you’re free?” Nodding, “Sure. Yea, of course. Just um-” she gestured towards Eddie, “-Give me a minute, ok?” “Yea. Ok.” Snorting, Kyle moved back towards the register, leaving Eddie and Amanda alone once more. Blinking those amazing eyes his way, Amanda locked her hands together to keep from touching the broad boy in front of her anymore, “So, thank you. I’m not entirely sure what was going on, but I’m glad I don’t have to explain it to my boss.” “Right. Well, I’m sorry for tripping you up. Covering for you seemed like the least I could do.” Amanda heard the store’s music shift, something by Annie Lennox filling the space, and she took a tentative step away from Eddie causing him to lean forward, “Wait-” “Yea?” Her hair swung over her shoulder, that’s how fast she spun around to face him, her stare open and curious. Nervously, Eddie bit his bottom lip as he rocked on the worn down heels of his sneakers. For the first time in as long as he could remember he was almost unsure of what to say, “Uh, can I see you again?” Amanda didn’t laugh in his face and she didn’t shy away, both reactions he fully expected if he was honest about it. Instead, and to his utter amazement, she reached behind her, yanking down the flier she’d only just hung up, “Absolutely.” And she pushed the paper into his hand before scurrying toward Kyle. Shit. He was in trouble already. Waiting just another couple of minutes, Eddie made his way to the cashier, patiently standing behind a flustered mom and her teenage son. That the kid kept trying to get her to look at the cherry red electric guitar and amp set, already staged for Christmas, wasn’t lost on Eddie. It’s exactly the type of gear he’d lusted after when he was young and eager, before he’d gotten his Sweetheart, and never looked back. Mind wandering, he didn’t hear her at first, “I can help you over here, sir.” Tilting his head towards her voice, Eddie took a shuffling step toward her register, “Ah, thank you, miss.” “No problem.” But it most definitely was a problem, because Amanda couldn’t lift her gaze his way. Not when her body rolled over hot at the memory of his chest under her fingers, his brown eyes peering down at her with sweet desire in their burnt caramel depths. Amanda punched in the code numbers, reading the price sticker and busying herself with recording the sale correctly. “Amanda? What’s the price for the Fender capo?” “Twelve fifty!” It’s automatic and Eddie was astonished at how she kept focused on his sale while answering her colleague from memory. Finally, she raised her face to find Eddie’s smiling one already looking in her direction, and struggling to keep the flush of her embarrassment in control managed to ask, “Is uh, is there anything else today?” “Naw, Amanda. I think this’ll do it.” Giggling, a bit more timid now that she was safe behind the counter, Amanda bagged up the book and relayed the total. Eddie pulled the bills out of his wallet, his chains clinking together musically, as Amanda made change for him quickly and precisely. When he grabbed for the package, his fingers rested over her own for just a heartbeat, “I’ll see you soon then. And uh, thanks for the dance, Amanda.” Stunned, all she could do was stand there, confused at the Dio patched metal head who pushed through the doorway and onto the street. Under her breath, Amanda swore, “Fuck. He knows my name.” —

Eddie didn’t know what he was supposed to wear to an outdoor concert in Hawkins Memorial Park at the beginning of October. Was it a jacket and tie sort of situation? Were jeans enough? Was he going to stick out like a sore thumb if he was wearing a Metallica t-shirt? All of these questions and more burned through the bong ripped brain of Eddie Munson. Pacing in front of his mirror, he fluffed his hair with his fingers, fidgety and fussing. “Dude. You’re fine. What’s the big deal anyway?” Fixing Dustin with a stare that would wither lesser beings, Eddie folded down the collar of his red checkered flannel shirt, “The big deal? I’ll tell you, Henderson. The big deal is-” grabbing for his well used bottle of Aqua Velva and splashing a few shakes into his hands, “-I don’t wanna look like a jerk. I want to blend in. Just uh, enjoy some new music, and a nice night.” “Psst. Bullshit. Who’s the chick?” His eyes widened. How could the little butthead know? Eddie hadn’t said a word about the music store beauty and still, somehow, the pipsqueak was calling him out. “What chick? Who said chick? There’s no chick.” “Me thinks thou doth protest too much.” Pausing while he fiddled with the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt, confusion filling his face, Eddie blinked, “Wha?” “It’s Shakespeare. You protest too much ‘cause, ya know, you’re covering up.” Frustrated, Dustin shook his head, closing his eyes as he exhaled heavily, “Nevermind. You’re clearly lying. Tell me about her. Who is she?” Looking over at his youthful friend, Eddie thought about it for a long second. Tell Dustin about Amanda? What was there to tell? Shrugging safely into his shirt, Eddie bought himself some time fiddling with the buttons. “Uh, well. I don’t really know her all that well. We, literally, bumped into each other at the music shop when I was picking up my new bible.” He was now entirely focused on his hair which had decided to go fluffy. Disgusted at what he saw, looking more pampered poodle than suave rocker, Eddie continued to run his hands through the curls as he chatted with his sidekick, “She’s uh-” “Pretty?” Dropping his gaze to the top of his dresser, Eddie’s cheeks colored at the word, “Yea. So cute. And, she seems smart. Funny, ya know?” Nodding, Dustin came up behind his friend, plucking a stray hair from his shoulder, “Sounds pretty damn perfect, man.” “I’m sure there’s a catch. There always is when it comes to women.” Eddie couldn’t help trying to keep his excitement in check. It was better to set his expectations low. Less likely to hurt so bad when someone disappointed him and people always seemed to be disappointing Eddie Munson. Catching his older friend’s eye in the mirror, Dustin offered up a toothless smile, “I don’t know, man. Maybe she’ll surprise you?” —

People were scattered around the park. Some hovered near benches, others sat on blankets and a lucky few used their lawn chairs, dragged from home, all to get a good view of the small stage where the quartet would be performing tonight. It was exciting. Amanda had unpacked her mic and cord, scatting a bit so that the guys could get a level on her voice and ensure a balanced sound through their mixing board. She didn’t really understand all the technicalities, but in the end it helped make sure that they all sounded as good as possible, so Amanda played along. “Testing one, two, three- testing one, two, three. Can y’all hear us out there?” A smattering of claps and one enthusiastic “Woo hoo!” met her question. Carly’s electric piano came next, banging out a couple of chords, before Jim slid his bow across the strings of his bass. Not to be excluded, Mark took a couple of rim shots, making them all laugh. Now all that was left was waiting for the start of the show. Seven o’clock and one of the town’s cultural council staff members used her microphone to blab about why they were hosting this event and to welcome Amanda and the band. The lawn had filled in a bit, more people milling around which was always a good sign, so Amanda took a deep breath before greeting everyone, “Good evening everyone! We’re the Indiana Four and we’re going to play for you tonight. If you like what you hear, there’s a tambourine-” jingling the instrument to get everyone's attention, Amanda added, “-and I’ll leave it right here, in case you wanna put a little something in it!”

It was still too early for a full on sun set, but the sky didn’t know it. Painted in bold streaks of orange that melted into petal pink due to the rays of the sinking sun, it created a warm glow which outlined everything around them with a gilded golden edge. The moon was already a ghostly crescent barely visible in the rainbow tinted ether when Amanda let her voice rise into the oncoming night. Mark counted them in with a broad smile in her direction and Carly’s piano joined the swell of music. The deeper bass notes of Jim’s cello grounded the opening strains of their first song. Amanda gently shut her eyes, letting her body feel every word of the song she was singing, just like she would do at home in her shower or behind the wheel of her tiny car. Unaware of herself and completely at ease, letting her instrument, her voice, blend into the melody the four of them created together. Eddie was never going to get over the sound of her voice. Sweet and soaring, she seemed to change the quality of its tone depending on the song, always leaving him guessing. Which version of this lady was going to sing next? A sultry vixen, heart broken and mournful? The shy ingenue, new to love? A plaintive bard, looking for answers? Or some new character created to enchant him with only the power of her voice? In between songs, Amanda smiled brightly, joking with the people gathered and teasing her band mates playfully. It made the entire concert feel comfortable- easy. Like the folks who came down to see them were in on the funniest joke. All one big, happy family who simply wanted to share music on a random October evening in the middle of Indiana. “Ok everyone, you’ve heard us sing a little of this and a little of that-” wrapping her hands around the microphone, Amanda pulled the silver stick closer, “-but now we’re going to do a favorite of mine, if that’s alright.” At the opening strains from the piano, a couple, older with matching graying hair, stood in front of their chairs and started swaying together, wrapped in each other’s arms. Amanda’s lips spread in a wide smile pointed in their direction as she started, “There’s a saying old, says that love is blind. Still we’re often told, seek and ye will find. So, I’m gonna seek a certain lad I’ve had in mind.” Moving from the lamp post he had been leaning against, no longer content to watch from the shadows, Eddie stepped directly into Amanda’s line of sight. She saw him. How could she miss the leather wrapped, long haired guy who was peering straight into her soul? And she wanted to look away, give someone, anyone else in the assembled listeners, her attention, but Amanda found that she couldn’t.

Had she expected him to be there? Shaking her head for the crowd to see answered her own thoughts. No, Amanda had no idea that the metal loving smooth talker would actually come to seek her out. But, she had thought about it in the small moments between guitar lessons or while driving to her classes in the morning.

So, no. Seeing Eddie stand there, bold as brass with his wide eyed stare and his hands in his pockets was not what Amanda had been expecting. Hoped for, maybe. Wished for, absolutely. Reality though was better than anything her mind might have considered. “Looking everywhere, haven’t found him yet He’s the big affair I cannot forget, Only man I ever think of with regret.” Eddie swallowed hard. The words she was singing wrapped around him on the night’s breeze and held on tight. It was as if they were having a conversation that no one else could decipher, a conversation for only two. “I’d like to add his initials to my monogram, Tell me, where’s the shepherd for this lost lamb?” And she sounded lost. Abandoned. Alone. Exactly like the type of person that Eddie was collecting for Hellfire or the band. A person who needed someone like him to shield them from the big bads in life. A guy who could protect her from the sort of wolves that a shepherd like him knew about all too well. “There’s a somebody I’m longing to see, I hope that he turns out to be Someone to watch over me.”

She was singing just to him. Only Eddie. There was no one else to look at, no one else who could understand or appreciate what the lyrics demanded. “I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood, I know I could always be good To one who'll watch over me”

Eddie felt his smile slide into place. It wasn’t the wide, dimpled, open grin that showed off his teeth and let you know he was happiest. No, this smile was small, secret. It drew his pretty pink tongue over the plush swell of his lips, something Amanda could see from a distance. Then, just to be coy, his pearly top teeth bit into the pillow cushion of his bottom lip, teasing her from her position on the small stage. Even from this far away, Amanda could see that he had made an effort. A shirt with a collar was buttoned across his chest, all red and black squares that looked soft and broken in. Sure, it was still under his leather jacket, but the denim vest must have been left somewhere safe, because he wasn’t sporting the pins and patches that she remembered from their first encounter. Jeans, dark blue or was it black? She couldn’t really tell, but it didn’t entirely matter. Either way, they fit snugly around his thighs and only sported a single torn knee. The threads stretched across his joint, frayed and begging to be played with. His hair was wild. It fell in waves of dark tendrils, looking to all the world like no care had been taken in its shaping and styling. Amanda stretched the fingers of her right hand, the one not holding her mic, imagining how Eddie’s curls would feel wrapped around her fingers. He saw it all. The way her hand fisted at her side before trailing up the chord of her microphone, tangling the slack in her fingers. How Amanda let every note have its own moment before the next one rose to join it. “Although he may not be the man some girls think of as handsome, To my heart, he carries the key”

Eyes fluttering shut, Amanda took a breathy inhalation as the melody shifted, daring to break the spell by denying herself the sight of Eddie in the crowd. Her heart thumped in time with Mark’s gentle drumming, thick hips swaying without her conscious approval, the crowd around her all but forgotten. Sliding back to the original cadence, the song swelled up and out of Amanda, nearing the end. “Won't you tell him please, to put on some speed, Follow my lead, oh, how I need, Someone to watch over me”

Eddie was transfixed. There was only him and Amanda and her voice and the falling sun burnishing everything rose golden in the fading light. He caught the way her skirt curled happily at her ankles with every shift of her feet. The way her mouth formed around the lyrics. How her chest rose and fell with each expressive stanza. The words repeated: “Won't you tell him please, to put on some speed Follow my lead, oh, how I need Someone to watch over me”

Amanda let her eyes flutter open. Closer now, unavoidable and un-ignorable, Eddie was standing directly in front of her. The final note, held until her lungs burned from want of air, faded into the ether and she winked at him. She couldn’t help it, really. Not when she had somehow managed to carry on as if the most handsome guy Amanda had ever bumped into wasn’t staring straight into her soul as she sang. Not when every note was rich and ripe and reverberated across the people packed plaza even if, presently, she sang solely for an audience of one. Applause. Clapping and whistling came from every corner of the park, jostling Eddie’s attention. From the stage, Amanda giggled at his reaction, but smoothly covered her response, “We are just so grateful that you all came to see us tonight. So-” tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a shy smile pointed in Eddie’s direction, she continued, “-we’re going to do one more song before we say goodnight.” She didn’t look at Eddie at all this time. Amanda wasn’t even sure she could, not after the intensity of singing, to him, for him. But she could tell he was there all the same, with his elbows bending outward like leather wrapped wings, nervous energy causing him to bounce on his toes in time with the music.

The new melody started and Amanda let it take her away too. This number is lively, the rhythm more rock than jazz, and she gave herself permission to have a little fun, show off a little bit. Still, she actively ignored the one set of eyes that didn’t seem to stray from her own through their final song. Soon enough, it was all over and the Indiana Four began breaking down. A few friendly folks from the audience came up and said kind words. Luckily there were a few dollars in the tambourine and Amanda happily handed the take to Carly, “Not so bad.” “Not bad at all-” But her friend stopped mid sentence, a voice familiar and still foreign cutting through the conversation, “Um, excuse me? Amanda?” Turning around, Amanda was surprised to find Eddie so close that the toes of her boots brushed against his Reeboks. She looked up at him through the curtain of her mascara, “How can I help you?” Now her voice was breathy. Husky. And it made Eddie’s skin prickle hotly. “Uh, I just wanted to tell you- all, tell you all just how much I enjoyed your set.” Only, Eddie never looked past Amanda’s face. Couldn’t really. Not when her wide eyes were staring into his own, their long lashes accentuating her curious gaze, her head tilted in a way that showed sincerity.

His calloused palm rubbed against the back of his neck, nerves getting the better of him the longer that Eddie stood there. It felt like hours. Long, silence filled hours where no one spoke and he dangled from a weak branch of his own social awkwardness. In reality it was only seconds before Amanda giggled like a crushing school girl, dropping her gaze to break the spell she had unwittingly cast, “Well, that’s awfully kind of you…?” Clearly she was prompting him. It was unfair that she was at the disadvantage of not knowing his name when he had learned hers through the forced politeness of the customer service industry. Behind her, Carly snorted as they watched Eddie extend a heavy ringed hand, taking Amanda’s in his own. Raising it high enough to press a chaste kiss to the back, adding a saucy wink for good measure as he answered, “Eddie. I’m Eddie.” “Eddie.” Amanda wasn’t aware that she’d whispered it out loud until her friend was reaching past her, extending her own hand Eddie’s way for a greeting, using her flirty voice to try and charm the very handsome, very out of place guy, “Carly. That’s me. And-” dropping her hand when Eddie failed to take it, Carly laughed ruefully, “-you don’t care.” Carly was absolutely right. Neither one of them paid her any attention because the world as Amanda knew it no longer existed. Not anymore. There was a new sun, a new sky. One with raven curls and plump, pink lips. A center of the galaxy that smelled like Aqua Velva and cinnamon gum and something mossy green. The world had shifted off its axis, tipping her right into the arms of Eddie Munson. For Eddie, well, he had been gone from the second Amanda had tangled herself around him so tightly that she’d almost fallen. But it was amazing to recognize that these feelings he was having were mutual. He got shy then, toeing at the patch of grass in front of her, hands in his pockets while he played at casual, “Wanna get outta here?” Nodding wordlessly, Amanda agreed, only to realize her unspoken intention. “Yea! Uh, yes. Yes. That would be nice.” When Eddie cocked his chin up, the smile on his face was dazzling, “Excellent.”

— She was sure that she told the band where she was going and who she was leaving with, but Amanda couldn’t be certain. It felt like so long ago. An age had passed since she had been standing on the simple stage, singing for all of Hawkins to hear. Since then, the long ago days of the early evening, so much had happened. Eddie had held her hand as he walked her to his van, holding open the door and ensuring that Amanda was tucked safely inside. Boys didn’t do that- not for Amanda Patterson. Not for the chubby girl who still had her baby weight to lose. When he caught her nibbling worriedly at her bottom lip, Eddie asked pointedly, “Everything alright?” “Uh, yea, I just-” “Afraid I’m trying to kidnap you, huh? I get it. Vans do have a-” he waggled his eyebrows suggestively while pressing the tip of his tongue to the center of his top lip, “-certain reputation. But I promise you, Amanda. No funny business.” With one hand over his heart, Eddie extended the other, holding his pinky finger out. She recognized the gesture. Every school aged kid would. “Is that- are you making a pinky promise?”

His cheeks split into a solar powered smile as he nodded, “Oh, yes. Absolutely. And it’s ironclad, since, ya know, we link our little fingers.” Chuckling with her whole body, her shoulders lifted as Amanda agreed by reaching out her own pinky, “Ok, ok. No funny business.”

They wrapped their littlest fingers around the other, huffing out laughs like naughty children. And it did comfort any nagging fears that might have flooded Amanda’s mind because it was so silly. So unexpected. It was also entirely sincere. Roaring to life like a beast roused from slumber, the van started and Eddie shifted into gear, “Are you, by any chance, hungry?”

He was hoping against hope that she was because Eddie wasn’t ready to say goodnight. Not now when he finally had this beautiful songbird buckled into the passenger’s seat, looking at him with those electric eyes. Eyes that kept pulling him in anytime he dared glance Amanda’s way, now fully focused on him and beaming. Normally a question like that would be fully loaded for a young woman very aware of her size and stature, but for the first time and without any hesitation, Amanda answered without reservation, “Starved.”

Exhaling through a grin, Eddie shook his hair off his shoulders, “Then let’s go!” The drive to the diner was filled with chatter. He offered kind words about the band, the concert and her vocals. “You, you’re just incredible. Never heard someone sing like that before.” “Thanks, but truthfully, Carly and Mark and Jim, they make me sound better.” Amanda did that thing where she deflected the words, the attention, to anyone else in order to minimize herself. What she didn’t count on? Eddie’s ability to see right through her. Blowing his bangs off his face, Eddie swiveled to face Amanda, his tone finally serious, “Uh uh. Nope. No way. You’re gonna have to accept that you’re the star of the show, sweetheart.” Then, he leaned over the center console, right into Amanda’s personal space to bump her shoulder with his own, “Please, take the compliment.” Her jaw snapped shut, hands in her lap where Amanda fooled around her with fingernails, fidgeting. She swallowed thickly and bobbed her head, her voice gaining strength. “You’re right. I, uh, I appreciate you saying that.” “No problem at all, hun. I’m only telling the truth.” That’s when she noticed his little finger wiggling her way, “Pinky promise.” — Normally Amanda would frown at the idea of a booth. They tended to be a tight squeeze, embarrassingly so when she’d have to slide across the bench, her supple thighs sticking to the tacky pleather. She desperately did not want to be embarrassed in front of the forthright dude in front of her. But Amanda didn’t need to worry. Eddie, lacing her hand in his, tugged her to the back table, “My usual spot- out of the way and the most comfortable one in the place.” Deep and roomy, the color of jellied cranberry sauce from a can, the cushion was accommodating because of its indeterminate age. She plopped onto the seat with room to spare, more than a little relieved, “Oh yea?” “Yea. I’ve been breaking it in for years.” Cocking her head in a way that made Eddie’s breath hitch, a clever half teasing smile curling one corner of her mouth higher than the other, Amanda joked, “So you bring all your women here, then?” The deep barking laugh that came straight from Eddie’s chest made an elderly gentleman sitting at the countertop turn around with a scowl. “All my women? You make me sound like a lothario.” “Mr. Goodbar? Is that you?” She squinted her eyes, leaning into the bit. “Oh, Mandy, honey. I am nowhere near that good with the ladies.” “I don’t know. You’re doing pretty good with me, so far.” And it was out of her mouth like a runaway rocket. There was no way to pull it back, no way to reign it in. It was there- out in the ether, like a comet bound to crash through the atmosphere. Amanda froze because now she’d done it. She had pointed out her interest, revealed herself as wanting, knowing that any other time she had dared to give voice to her attraction it had always been met with let down and heart ache. The embarrassment boiled through her. God, she had wanted so badly to play it cool. To ensure that Eddie was really into her before making any kind of declaration that couldn’t be passed off as a joke. Stewing, Amanda waited for the inevitable rejection from the man far prettier and sexier than she should ever hope to have for her own. But instead of a dismissive shrug or, worse, a comment about liking her as a ‘just friend’, Amanda got to watch as Eddie’s eyes lit up joyfully. He couldn’t hide it either, apparently, since his smile widened enough to show off a pair of precious dimples, “Yea? Ya think so? That’s- uh, that’s good to hear.” Something about his own reckless enthusiasm caused the flood of worry to ebb away, leaving Amanda filled with a warm, gooey sensation that was not as familiar. Could it be? Was this what mutual attraction felt like? Was this what love songs had been selling for generations and greeting card companies were always trying to find new ways to describe? Was this… love? “Hey lovebirds, what can I get ya?” It is a universal law that wait staff appear at the table when it is least convenient and this interruption by Cheryl ensured that all was right with the cosmos, her tiny pencil poised and ready to write. They had spent no time reading the menu, but Eddie had it memorized cover to cover. Looking at Amanda, he nodded, “So, uh, do you trust me?” Again, her head tilted, appraising this nearly perfect stranger with the gorgeous grin and shaggy hair. “Uh huh, yea. I trust you. Why do you ask?” Licking over his lips, he turned all of his unfiltered attention to their waitress, dialing the charm up to eleven, “Hiya Cheryl!” “Hi yourself, Eddie. What’s it gonna be?” There was a familiarity there that spoke of too many late night coffee cups and slices of pie. It wasn’t friendly, really, but it was warm enough and Eddie’s puppy dog eyes moved the conversation into safer waters. “Hmm… patty melts. Two please, with the curly fries, ok?” A curt nod answered his request, “Yea, and to drink?” He looked at Amanda, that impish twinkle shining bright in his cinnamon dark eyes, “Milkshakes?” “Oh! Yes! Vanilla for me, please.” She beamed at Eddie, excitement at the consideration evident in Amanda’s face. “And I suppose you want chocolate, right Eddie?” Cheryl lifted her gaze from the scribble filled notepad to stare down at Amanda’s dinner companion. Placing his ring covered hand over his chest, Eddie batted his eyes, “You know the way to my heart, Cheryl.” Snorting approvingly at his antics, she jotted down Eddie’s preferred flavor, “All right kids, be right up.” And she wasn’t kidding because before either of them could let the silence grow, two tall and frosty milkshake glasses were being slid across the glittering formica, each topped with a mound of whipped cream and a luscious, over sweet cherry as a crown. A pair of straws were tossed down without much thought and Amanda greedily grabbed one, eager to taste the delectable treat in front of her. “So, tell me about you. What do you- like, what do you do for fun?” Eddie was toying with his straw’s paper wrapper, making small talk and working hard at looking effortless. He hadn’t been out like this, with a girl he was so into, in ages. Maybe ever, really, and he was rusty, more than a little out of practice. Amanda swirled her own straw through the thick vanilla shake in front of her, biting into her bottom lip before replying, “Well, I work. A lot.” “At the Music Shop?” She shrugged, “Yup. But it’s not all restocking sheet music and replacing guitar strings. I teach-” “Like guitar?” Something about the prospect was so exciting. A fellow musician to noodle around with and she just happened to have the voice of an angel? Was this paradise found, or what? Amanda nodded at his eager response, “Yea. Also some keyboard, like, really beginner piano, ya know?” Eddie slurped at his chocolate shake, brain going a mile a minute. Shaking his long hair off his shoulders, nearly gawking, he clicked his tongue before sighing deeply, “It’s not really fair.” Worry filled Amanda’s features. Had she done something wrong? It had all been going so well, maybe too well? “What’s not fair?” Rapping his ringed knuckles against the tabletop before pointing her way, “You. You’re like, too good to be true.” Shy now, Amanda turned away from his kindness, his honeyed praises, and fiddled nervously with the pendant of her necklace. It wasn’t something she had a ton of experience with; flirting and compliments and genuine appreciation. If she was on a stage, under a white hot spotlight, Amanda would know exactly what to say, what to do, but here on the worn out bench seat of a small town diner, Amanda found herself unmoored by all the attention Eddie was sending her way. “Oh, that’s like- I mean, I’m not-” she let her voice trail off, suddenly transfixed by something outside of the plate window. “Hey-” Eddie laid his hand, palm up, on the worn down table, his voice dropping to a whisper. He’d said something to upset Amanda because she had taken those brilliant peepers away and that felt wrong on a primal level. “-Amanda? Did I- uh, shit. Did I do something, ya know, wrong? Shit.” There was something in the defeated sound of Eddie’s expletive that brought her around. She saw his open hand, still laying on the table and cautiously linked her fingers with his. But she still could not meet his questioning look. Twirling one of those big, heavy rings around his large and frankly, distracting fingers, Amanda finally huffed out a lungful of air. “I guess I should like, be honest here and tell you that I’ve never really done this.” She motioned between the pair of them with her unoccupied hand as if that alone would explain her behavior. Eddie squeezed her fingers for a second, a trace of teasing in his tone when he asked, “Had dinner in a shitty diner?” Rolling her eyes skyward, she snorted out a small laugh, “No. Well, kinda? I mean, I haven’t really had a-” she let her eyes lock onto Eddie’s maple brown ones, holding him still, “-a date. I, uh, never really had anyone, ya know, wanna take me out. So, this is new. For me, anyway.” Eddie could see what the admission cost her. The once pleased smile now turned just a little pouty as her bottom lip puckered from the effort of opening herself up. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she couldn’t keep the air inside her for too long, but perhaps the most telling was the way that Amanda’s hand clung tightly to Eddie’s. For a long second neither one of them said anything. The kitchen crew could be heard, banging around pots and plates. Another couple in a nearby booth was laughing loudly. The radio was tuned to the oldies station so everyone could listen to Sam Cooke singing about Cupid. And when Amanda realized that Eddie wasn’t going to respond, she sat up, stiffer than before, readying to take her hand with her. But Eddie closed his fist around her fingers, keeping his hold on her and tugging her gently forward, a pained pinch obvious in his voice, “Me either.” “What?” He closed his eyes and swallowed thickly, “I don’t date. Uh, that often.” Popping one eye open, just to see if Amanda was still with him, Eddie continued, “Um, I’ve got a bit of a, well, a reputation. And for some reason, the ladies around here aren’t into that.” Shooting for levity, Eddie hoped to lighten the mood. Moments like this, where he was on display emotionally, where he was open and vulnerable, made him nervous. Anxious. Twitchy. It was fucking scary to be sitting here with this pretty bird and tell her how much of a disaster he really was with no bravado to use as armor. And if Amanda wasn’t already heading for the hills, there was no way he would be able to stop her now. “It’s the van, isn’t it? All the people you’ve attempted to kidnap, right?” At her gentle jest, both of Eddie’s eyes popped open. She was still there, sitting sweetly behind her melting shake, a tentative twist of her lips making it impossible for Eddie to stop imagining what kissing her would be like and he felt himself nodding with a hoarse giggle, relieved, “Yea. That’s, uh, that’s it. I’m just a creepy metal head with a super creepy van.” “You probably have candy too and uh, puppies? For the luring of innocents?” “Of course. What’s a kidnapper without his bait?” “A weird guy with an empty van?” And that absolutely shitty punchline was enough to send them both into a giggle fit, shattering any lingering tension created by being a touch too honest in the moment. There would be a better time to talk about deep dark secrets and the reasons why two lonely people could find comfort in each other, but this wasn’t it. When Amanda pulled her hand back this time, Eddie let it go. She used her napkin to dab under her eyes, clearing away the tears that laughing together had created. Then she was dipping down to slurp at her creamy concoction, grinning, “This is so good!” “Right? But, I gotta say, vanilla is-” “What? What’s wrong with vanilla?” Shaking his head with a laugh, Eddie raised his eyebrows, “Vanilla is kinda boring.” “It is not!” Scalded by his choice of words, Amanda leaned over their shared table at the diner, motioning him closer. When she was near enough for her now vanilla scented breath to skate across Eddie’s mouth, Amanda husked, “Vanilla is smoky. Sweet. It’s hard to grow, super hard to harvest and while there are many imitators out there. Real vanilla. The good stuff? Well, that shit would rock your world.” Amanda, feeling bolder, pushed in tighter despite the formica between them, continuing in a hushed tone. “And Eddie-” her voice dropped even lower, forcing him to concentrate on every word leaving her tenderly parted lips, lips that smelled like bourbon and sugar and cream. Lips that Eddie wanted to taste so badly that he was sure he was going to go mad, right here in the goddamned diner, before their burgers ever made it to the table. Lips that begged to be kissed stupid, carried on, unaware of his rising desire, “-never forget this: chocolate needs vanilla to taste so damn good!” Sitting back, pleased as punch now that her point was made, Amanda slurped down another sip of her vanilla shake. Eddie needed a minute. Or seven. He was still almost lying chest down on the booth’s table, having to cock his head up to look at the vanilla loving vixen gloating over him. Spreading his broad hands over the tabletop, Eddie dramatically pushed himself back into his seat, eyeing Amanda warily, acting contrary for the fun of it. “It’s a good story, kid. But I’m still not convinced about vanilla’s superiority. Maybe-” He was pushing his luck, he knew it. God, but he knew it only too well. She’d admitted to being new to all this, inexperienced, but still, fortune favors the bold, isn’t that what some famous person had said once? Amanda, unknowingly, waited for his follow-up, her mouth wrapped around the striped straw, her cheeks round and smiling, “Maybe?” Leaning onto one leather wrapped elbow, Eddie reclaimed the space at the center of their table, “Maybe I need to taste it again?” She’s confused. Yea, definitely, confused. So Amanda moved, ready to slide her icy half filled glass his way. But Eddie shook his head slowly and waved her forward until their foreheads were almost pressed together. That’s when he cupped her cheek, gently, softly and Amanda, powerless to stop her body, nuzzled into the warmth there. It felt natural. Right. Easy. And there was no way that Amanda was going to deny herself this little bit of pleasure being offered so openly. If what Eddie had admitted was true, and the way his eyes had scrunched gave her a pretty good idea that it was, then he was in uncharted waters himself. Something about that idea, that they were both in this raging waterfall of connection together made it safer somehow. It made it easier to shut her own eyes and enjoy the calloused caresses of Eddie. Eddie slid his thumb over her plush bottom lip which parted without question, “Wanna taste you. That alright, Mandy?” God, did she like being called Mandy. She bobbed her head ‘yes’, her eyes shut from the want, already anticipating Eddie’s movements. But he surprised her again, asking- no, telling, “Open your eyes, baby. Please?” And only when Eddie could spy the blown open pupils of his dinner companion did he allow his mouth to surge forward. His slightly chapped lips separated enough for his tongue to sweep across Amanda’s own and he was rewarded with a sultry sigh. It made Eddie braver. Bolder.

Now he was intrepid in his search for the flavor of vanilla, teasing and taking a taste of every muggy corner of her mouth. His tongue brushed against her own, the fresh flavor of vanilla sweetness everywhere. Heady and exotic and exciting. Amanda tipped her chin downward, ready to deepen this first kiss that arched over forgotten milkshakes and the paper napkins wrapping up their silverware, tentatively running the tip of her tongue over Eddie’s teeth. Traces of chocolate and the syrupy sweet cherry from the top of his treat lingered on Eddie’s lips making Amanda hum harmonically. Her fingers fisted into the collar of his flannel shirt, ensuring that Eddie couldn’t escape, at least, not without effort. But she wasn’t worried. When his second hand molded to the curve of her other cheek, Amanda couldn’t avoid smiling, knowing that Eddie was as into this as she was. As far as first kisses went, this one was ranking pretty high on the list of all time greats and both were reluctant to pull away first. “Ahem! AHEM! I have your order.” Two heads turned toward the intruding voice of the bored and bordering on disgusted server Doris but Eddie and Amanda didn’t jump apart like a couple of randy teens might have. Oh no, Amanda leaned further into the cup of Eddie’s palm, offering their put upon server a small smile, dazed and almost drunkenly, ��Hmm, thank you so much.” Eddie would have rather died than forfeit the pleasure of her trusting touch. With his free left hand he reached for one of the two plates, “Here, lemme have that.” “Whatever.” Without any further ceremony, Doris, because that’s what her name tag read, plopped both heavy ceramic dishes to the table, “Need anything else lovebirds?” Amanda lifted her head slowly, licking over her bee stung lips and nodded towards the pink cheeked shaggy headed boy still draped across their booth, “Uh, yea. Could we have another vanilla shake, please? It’s his favorite flavor.” Chuckling, Eddie let his broad thumb with the bitten down nail graze over the apple of her cheek, speaking to Doris but only looking at Amanda, “Two cherries, huh, Doris?” Rolling her elderly eyes, the waitress shook her head, “Right away.” Steam rolled off the two cheeseburger melts and stacks of seasoned french fries but they remained huddled as close at the table between them would allow. Cocking his eyebrow, Eddie couldn’t help the teasing, “My favorite, huh?” “Oh yea. You’re a convert now.” Settling back reluctantly, Eddie smirked your way, “Ever think that you’re my favorite flavor?” He was rewarded with a small kiss pressed to the inside of his wrist and what he realized was a trademark tilt of her head, “I told you that everything tastes better with vanilla, Eddie.” “Yea, you sure did.” Biting into his burger, Eddie grinned through the grease on his face, sure he had never been happier in his short life. And if the triumphant smirk Amanda flashed his way proved anything, she felt the exact same way.

— The second their empty plates had been cleared away, Eddie’s hand naturally kind of reached for Amanda’s, needy and greedy for the reassurance of touch. Just as natural, Amanda slotted her fingers between his, “I gotta say, Eddie, that was a pretty amazing burger.” Pleased at the recognition, Eddie squeezed her digits for a second, “Thanks for trusting me.” And then he seemed to realize the full implication of his statement. Thanks for trusting him on the drive over. Thanks for trusting his judgment about the restaurant and not just his menu choices. Thanks for trusting his intentions. Her eyes rounded at the sentiment, giving Eddie a flash of sympathy before leaning into a flirty smile, “I had to. You did pinky promise me that there would be no funny business and that’s ironclad. At least, that’s what I’ve been led to believe.” “God, you remember everything, huh?” But he sounded impressed. Happy that she hadn’t lingered on his more revealing comment. Nodding, Amanda agreed, “Yea, I mean, I kinda have an ear and it’s always been easy for me to memorize stuff. Lyrics, melodies, lines from movies-” Leaning forward again, engaged and interested, Eddie licked over his bottom lip, “No shit?” “No shit!” Eddie couldn’t help it. He let his eyes roam over the pretty face in front of him, etching all of the details into his own memory, vowing never to forget the greasy sweet shine of her lips around the red striped straw or how she folded her disposable napkin up primly before laying it across her dinner plate. The way Amanda’s hand felt so right in his and how her mouth tasted like vanilla ice cream with a trace amount of menthol throat drop lingering along her teeth. Eddie needed to remember it all for later. For tonight when he went back to his trailer, like a gentleman. For tomorrow or the day after or the day after that. For all the days that would spread between this time together and the next time Eddie would be able to see her. He was going to live off the sound of Amanda’s begrudging laugh when he made a joke that was funnier than it had any real right to be. He planned to survive on the nourishment of her sugared sighs when those perfect, plump and pouty lips had welcomed Eddie’s own. It was food for his soul. Essential for life like oxygen or water. “Uh, Eddie?” Amanda’s quiet question yanked him out of his own head and back into the present moment. He tugged the forward chunk of his hair between his long fingers, embarrassed at being caught, “Hmm?” “You’re, uh, staring.” “Yea. Sorry about that. It’s just-” “Do I have something on my face?” Panicked, Amanda patted at her cheeks to find the non-existent stain. And how could he help himself? “Oh, yup. A little higher. No, lower- uh, nope, other side. It’s right there-” he directed her wildly, pointing at the corner of his mouth to watch Amanda lick the same spot of her own, “-almost. How do you keep missing it?” “You little shit!” It was suddenly crystal clear that Eddie was full on fucking with her. There never had been anything on her face. “What? You got it. Just now.” Eddie’s impish grin made it impossible for Amanda to be truly mad so she settled for shooting him a playfully spiteful glare, “Uh huh. Yea, sure.” His thumb rubbed along the side of her pointer finger, the gentle drag a grounding reminder of Eddie’s unwavering presence. Amanda rested her chin against the flat of her right palm before sighing deeply, “What am I gonna do with you, Eddie?” Reflexively, re-actively, he answered, “Whatever you want, baby.” It was Amanda’s turn to stare. There was an open honesty in the hot coffee color of Eddie’s eyes that hooked her right through the heart and tugged like a caught fish on a rusty lure. He was being serious, there was no denying it. Around them the air shifted. It was no longer funny. It was no longer polite. The world narrowed once more, big enough for only the two of them and the dingy diner booth where they sat as everything else fell away. Her throat tightened and a lick of heated flame unfurled through her belly. Words flooded her thoughts but Amanda couldn’t seem to settle on the ones that would say what she wanted desperately to express. Eddie’s seemingly simple declaration had untethered her. Because it was too soon to speak with such clarity of purpose. Too early for the implication of more to be made. And yet, for the first time, Amanda saw the ghostly shape of possibility in the earnest expression Eddie wore. There was a promise there, stronger than one created when two little fingers linked, and something about that was spooky. Scary. Only, Amanda didn’t feel frightened like she thought she should, shrugging smoothly, “I- I wanna stay with you.” That was her truth, in the singular sparkling now. Leaving Eddie, even for the comfort of home, was a thought so daunting, so disruptive, that she was actively moving against it. Everything in Amanda Patterson said ‘stay’. Eddie’s head bobbed in understanding. He had no intention of letting the night end so early and without any plan in place for a follow-up rendezvous. At Amanda’s declaration, he’d changed the grip of her hand, turning it so that their palms touched, textured heat melding together.

He’d be lying if he denied the libidinous way his blood shot south at the whispered want in Amanda’s voice. He was a young and virile guy, after all. But Eddie wasn’t thinking with his dick when he said, “I don’t wanna let you go, Mandy.”

“Am I-” pausing to catch her breath, Amanda started again, “-are we crazy?” “I uh, I don’t think so.” Conspiratorially, Amanda huffed, “Then what do we do now, Eddie?” His free hand brushed through his curls roughly before landing on the back of his neck, “Let me take you home?” It was a question born of chivalry and Amanda agreed with a thin, “Yes, please.” Eddie stood up first, somehow managing to keep her hand in his as he slipped out of the booth smoothly. Once he was on his feet, he tugged lightly, bringing Amanda to the edge of the bench before offering his arm. She watched as Eddie threw some loose bills on the table and then he was leading her outside of the bacon scented diner and onto the sidewalk. She floated at his side, the swaying of her skirt brushing against the stiff denim of Eddie’s jeans. What had been an appropriate outfit for the early evening was now a bit too thin and he saw her shiver under the bright and clear Indiana sky. Popping open the van’s door, he saw her settled inside and as she buckled her seatbelt, Eddie shrugged off his leather jacket, “Here. Snuggle up under this, yea?” Gripping the body warm coat with greedy fingers, Amanda clutched it to her chest, humming her thanks. He watched as she spread it over herself, nudging the collar with her nose, “Oh man, it smells like you!” “Cigarettes and bad decisions?” “Nope.” Inhaling deeply, she thought for a minute, “Cologne? Aqua Velva, like my granddad wears and uh, Green Apple shampoo?” She couldn’t hide the surprised way her eyes widened or the knowing little smirk her mouth made at this discovery. “What? I think it smells good.” Lingering in the space between inside the van with Amanda and outside on the sidewalk, Eddie’s arms leaned into the rusted metal frame, effectively caging her in the seat. Not that she minded when every time he stretched his flannel shirt rode up just enough for an alabaster white slice of belly to peek over the waistband of his jeans. She had already noticed splashes of black ink over each hip but couldn’t be sure of its shape. His forearms were on display, the strong veins of his wrists visible under the artfully stained skin, and Amanda let her mind wander at the idea of what Eddie looked like under all that cotton and cloth. Amanda swallowed thickly. She was very aware of the protective bubble Eddie had built around her, here in the cab of his vehicle. The scent of him. The sight. It was a feast for the senses. And now all she wanted was to taste the plush and pillowy softness of his lips. Lips that were moving, saying something but her mind had gone over into staticy silver. She couldn’t help it. Not when he was standing with his trim waist nearly at eye level, the belt of his jeans drawing them low on his hips. “Huh?” That grin. Broad and toothy, spread smugly over his face, “Uh, did I lose you for a second?” “Hmm, yea. Kinda. Sorry, what were you saying?” “I was saying, I don’t want to say goodnight, at least-” he raised a hand to her cheek, brushing the calloused pad of his thumb across her smooth skin, “-not so soon.” Having already melted into his touch, hoarse and throaty, she agreed, “Yea, no, me either.” “Yea? So, if you’re up for a little adventure, I may have an idea.” Amanda lifted an eyebrow, questioning the boy before her with a sarcastic thread to her words, “An adventure?” “Don’t worry, babe. I'll make sure to get you there and back again.” His pinkie finger was wiggling, just waiting for Amanda to link them together in a silent show of trust. —

Thanks for reading! Part 2 is coming soon!

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 years ago

Text

Lo-Fi: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated

The only way you're going to get an accurate profile on your unsub is if you walk the crime scene. Brustin, JJ, Rossi, you, and Derek head to the subway where the most recent murder happened. The police have sectioned off this stop, so you're not worried about people getting off the subway and contaminating the crime scene.

"Who in the hell thinks they can get away with murder in the middle of the day in New York City?" Derek asks angrily.

"Someone patient enough who waits for the one who gets separated from the flock."

"Is that the spot?" JJ asks, pointing to the area where the unsub shot a man in cold blood.

"Yeah," Brustiun says, clearly not interested in you being here.

"Are we boring you?" Derek asks. "Look, I know you don't like SSA Joyner. That's fine, I get it, but we're here to do a job."

"Have any of your people ever been cops?"

"Chicago," Derek immediately answers.

"Then you'll understand. I take it real personally if something like this happens in my city. I was a beat cop during the Son of Sam. This is worse. He's not just going after one type, he's going after everybody. I need everybody working on this case, taking it personally."

"You have that," you say.

"We'll see."

You turn your efforts into piecing together what happened hours ago. The energy left behind is still fresh, and the spirit of the deceased still lingers around. You close your eyes and let yourself be consumed by the energy so that when you open your eyes, you're brought back to when the crime occured.

People stop off the subway in a hurry to get somewhere. There are some walking by slowly so they don't miss anything, but everyone has somewhere to be. Everyone has a job to get to, a significant other to see, and places to spend their money with.

The victim never even saw it coming. He got off the train thinking he was going to go home without an issue. The unsub walked off the subway seconds later, but you can't make anything out on his face. He knew he was being filmed, so he kept his head down so you aren't able to see who he is.

You walk closer to the man and pause the scene so that everyone is frozen around you. You bent slightly to get a better look at his face, but all that's there is a black hole where his eyes and mouth are. He's tried so hard to conceal who he is that he's done a good job at masking himself from you.

The only thing you get is the color of his skin. He is a white male, and that's the majority of the city's occupants. The other thing you get is the color of his energy. It's red, but it's a calming red as if he decided to shoot someone like he'd decide what meal to eat next.

No matter how much you replay the events, you're not getting anything else off the unsub.

"We've had glimpses of this guy, but the descriptions have been sketchy. Some people said he's a light-skinned black man, Asian, Puerto Rican, which is basically every homeboy in the city," Brustin scoffs.

"He's white," you say and look at your team.

"How do you know?"

"I saw him. Not all of him, but enough to see the color of his skin."

Before Brustin has a chance to respond to that, Derek takes over. These detectives wouldn't understand what you can do. Cooper might, but Brustin definitely wouldn't.

"Were the ballistics the same for every shooting?"

"We checked the records back ten years, but the gun's never been recycled," Brustin answers, finally peeling his eyes from you.

".22s aren't exactly the weapon of choice these days. All I know is this guy is organized. He studies the cameras, and carries a gun that's easy to conceal. He knows what he's doing."

This kind of unsub is smart, too smart for your own good. He'd never strikes near where he lives so that he can put some distance between his murder life and his personal life. The unsub strikes at the same time of day, and he knows where the cameras are placed. That means he's doing his own pre-surveillance. A need-motivated killer operates within his own comfort zone while an organized killer with some other motivation will make sure to strike outside that zone, not where he lives.

Unfortunately, that means that every other neighborhood in the city has a reason to be terrified.

The unsub truly did his research because while your team was at the subway, he was striking somewhere else in a different city. As soon as you got the word that there is another murder, your half of the team heads over there to meet with Hotch, Cece, and Cooper. JJ went back to the office to be with Spencer and Emily to work the case from home base.

Since this is a fresh crime scene, and the body hasn't even been taken away yet, the energies are strong enough for you to picture exactly what happened. While the first unsub stepped off the subway, this second unsub came creeping around the corner of a building and targeted the victim.

You say second unsub because the energy is different. While the first one had a calming energy about him, this one is more angrier. While the unsub could have gotten angry after leaving the subway, you know this one is a different person because the base color of his energy is different.

You're dealing with two unsubs. That, and his skin color is a lot darker than the one before him. You're not sure if there is a third, but you're definitely dealing with two people.

"Uniforms are rounding up witnesses. It doesn't seem like anyone got a clean look," Cooper says.

"It makes sense because he's probably gone before anyone even realizes what's happening."

"Is this what it felt like during the Son of Sam?" Kate asks since she wasn't there for it.

"Yes. At first, we realized that if the violence was truly random, there was almost no way of stopping it. It seems like these people have figured that out," Brustin states.

"From the placement of that camera, odds are the only view they're gonna get is the back of his head," Derek says.

"Let's not be too quick to decide what we do or don't have."

Kate gives him a cold look before walking away. Brustin and Cooper whistle lowly at the fact that Derek was on the receiving end of her cold demeanor and not them.

"Do you mind telling me why I'm catching attitude from her?" Derek asks Hotch.

"FBI Brass has made it clear to her that if she doesn't bring this case home, she's gonna be reassigned. You are at the top of the list to replace her."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Why should you be surprised? You're good at your job. People notice that."

"What happened to the bureau patting itself on the back for stealing her away from Scotland Yard?"

"I don't know. Politics here are different, and you can see she doesn't pull punches."

"I think we're dealing with two unsubs here," you say, catching the attention of the two detectives.

"What evidence do you have to support that?" Brustin asks.

"None, but--"

"Then you're not sure. This is the work of one seriously messed up person."

"Look, Hotch, I saw the first unsub step off that subway. He was white and had a calming energy about him. This unsub is black and has an angrier energy. We're dealing with a duo, maybe more."

Hotch knows to trust you when you say things like this, which is why he doesn't hesitate to back you up on this.

"We should look for evidence that would point to two people. We can't dismiss the possibility of this being a team. We need to consider all possibilities here."

"Whatever you say, boss," Brustin sighs.

"Six murders, and he's finally communicating with us," Rossi says, showing everyone the Tarot card in his hands. "It's a Tarot card. Death."

"Isn't that a little on the nose, even for a psycho?"

"Regardless, do you think this guy is into spiritual stuff? Or both of them if it is two people?" you ask, wording the question that way for Brustin's benefit.

"If he or they are, he certainly doesn't know tarot. The death card doesn't actually signify physical death. It's more of a transformation from one place to another like a job promotion or a marriage."

"If he's not into fortune telling, what's with the card?"

"This card is meant for us. He wants us to know that he knows we're here. If they're doing their own surveillance, then it's likely he's watching us now. Smile, you might be on camera."

After you gather everything you can from the scene, you let local police deal with the body and the public. Your team including the two detectives head back to the FBI office in New York. Once word got out to the reporters about what's really happening, they surrounded the building with microphones, cameras, and tons of questions.

Everyone ignores their questions as you head inside where JJ, Emily, and Spencer are.

"What did you find out?" Hotch asks.

"Here is the latest shooting," Emily says, pulling up the video of it. "This was the previous murder." She pulls up the subway murder. "Okay, do you see anything weird here?"

"The second one sprints off, and the first walks calmly. It's two entirely different demeanors," Derek says.

"With six kills in, his behavior should be set."

"Check this out. Garcia, are you still there?" Spencer asks.

"Would I ever leave you?" she chuckles over the phone. "I did a digital perspective analysis rendering on the shootings where we have footage. Now, the first two are inconclusive, but the last two I found something weird. Your calm walking type is about 6'1", but your sprinter is 5'9", 5'10" tops."

"We've got more than one unsub," Hotch confirms what you've been saying.

You needed them to get to that conclusion on their own or they would have never believed you.

"Do you believe me now?" you ask Brustin and Cooper.

"So, we have more than one unsub. What does that tell us?" Rossi asks.

"Most teams stick together. They don't usually kill separately. It could be some kind of gang initiation."

"Gangs will kill you if they encroach on your territory, not random people all over the city," Emily dismisses.

"I'll coordinate with the gang task force and make sure we have an overview by morning," JJ states before walking away.

"Do you think we have enough for a working profile?" Kate wonders.

"We still need more information. Dave, you, Y/N, and Reid talk to the agents here. Morgan and Prentiss, brief the police when each shift comes on duty tomorrow," Hotch orders.

"I think we should get out on the streets," Derek says.

"I brought you here to create a profile."

"Which we can give in the morning, and then they can share it with the afternoon shift," Derek argues.

"We've allocated every extra man we have. This is New York City. It's not like a few more people are going to blanket the city," Kate sighs.

"I understand it's a long shot, but these guys hit at midday. We could target the entry and exit to particular neighborhoods. Position us near express stops--14th, 42nd, 59th--"

"Morgan, it's not your call," Hotch cuts him off.

Derek scoffs and leaves before he says something he regrets later.

"I'd like to join you in the profile if that's not stepping on your toes," Kate asks.

"It's no problem," Rossi shrugs.

You're not going to get any more work done today since it's the end of the day, and the unsubs aren't known to shoot during the night. They want an audience and want to be seen, so the best time to do it is in the middle of the day. The mornings and nights are the safest from these kinds of people.

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sluttywonwoo · 3 years ago

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pretend || j.ww x reader

Summary: reading thirst tweets with your co-star/boyfriend’s best friend makes things a little tense

Warnings: swearing, smut mentions (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

The sound of Mingyu cracking his knuckles next to you sent a shiver down your spine, making you cringe instinctively. You turned to glare at him and leaned away from the noise.

“I hate when you do that!” you groaned.

He smirked. “I know, that’s why I like doing it.”

You looked over at Wonwoo, who was sitting across the room with the crew, and pointed to Gyu.

“Can you tell your best friend to stop being annoying?”

“Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being dramatic?” Mingyu retaliated.

“I’m not picking sides!” Wonwoo shouted back and held up his hands in surrender.

You let your jaw drop. “I’ll remember that, Jeon.”

“Baby, I-” Wonwoo started to defend himself, but fell silent when the producer got up from her chair and approached you and Mingyu who were sitting behind the camera.

“Which one of you wants to take this?” she asked, holding up a large insulated jug full of paper strips.

“I’ll take it,” Mingyu offered and set the cup in his lap.

“What a gentleman,” you said, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” he muttered, “because you’re so fucking annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

The producer gave you both a sideways look. “Are you guys alright? Should we take a minute before starting?”

“No, we’re fine,” you assured her.

“We don’t actually hate each other,” Mingyu added, “this is just how... we are.”

She didn’t look any less concerned, but nodded anyway. “Okay, well remember what your director said about playing up your chemistry to promote the show. And when we call action just give a quick slate and start reading the tweets.”

She walked back over to her spot next to the cameraman and took a seat before looking over a checklist that had been handed to her and writing some notes on it.

“Nervous?” Mingyu whispered to you as you both waited for your cue.

“A little,” you admitted. “You?”

“I’m a bit on edge,” he concurred. “Mostly because your boyfriend is about to watch me read filthy comments about you on-camera.”

You glanced over at Wonwoo who gave you an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up. “He’ll be fine. How bad can they be?”

From a distance, the producer you had just spoken to called for everyone to be quiet on set and signaled the cameras to start rolling. You perked up and straightened your dress, waiting for Mingyu to take the lead.

“Hi guys, I’m Kim Mingyu.”

“And I’m y/n y/l/n.”

“You might recognize us from our new Netflix series, Breaking Curfew, where we play opposite each other in what you might call a... complicated romantic relationship.”

“We’re enemies with benefits,” you summarized. “And today we’re here with Buzzfeed to read thirst tweets about each other.”

“Ladies first,” Mingyu said and held the cup out to you.

You closed your eyes and sifted through the strips of paper with one hand, selecting one at random.

“Okay, this one’s about you. ‘Kim Mingyu has the prettiest eyes’.” You grinned as you watched your co-star’s cheeks turn pink. “He’s totally blushing right now! We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff!”

“Thank you very much to whoever tweeted that,” Mingyu said and cleared his throat.

“I agree with this person,” you continued, “you do have really pretty eyes.”

“Aw, thank you, y/n.”

“You’re welcome.”

“My turn.” Mingyu closed his eyes and rummaged around the cup before picking one. “‘Someone tell y/n y/l/n that I’m single and I get a discount at Olive Garden if she ever wants to let me take her out on a date’.”

You chuckled. “I do like Olive Garden.”

“She’ll get back to you on that one, mate,” Mingyu said quickly and let the crumpled piece of paper fall to the floor.

You took that as a sign to move on so you reached into the jug and pulled out another tweet.

“Oh, this one’s about me again. ‘Y/n y/l/n scissor me challenge’.” You clapped a hand over your mouth in shock and thrust the slip of paper towards Mingyu.

“You know what, props for being so bold. What do you think, y/n? Are you going to take them up on the offer?”

“I’ll think about it,” you managed to choke out, sending Mingyu into a laughing fit. You fanned yourself with your hand as you tried to recover and motioned for your co-star to read another one. “Your turn.”

“‘Kim Mingyu and y/n y/l/n are my dream celebrity threesome,’” he read. “What a compliment, don’t you think?”

“Oh, for sure,” you agreed and winked as you held your hand to your ear in a call me motion.

“These are just getting more and more vulgar, aren’t they?” Mingyu asked.

“I don’t know that anything can beat the scissoring one,” you pointed out as you fished another tweet from the bucket. “Another one about Mingyu, okay. ‘I wanna suck Kim Mingyu’s soul through his dick then spit it back in his face’.” You blinked at the piece of paper in front of you in shock, scanning back over it to make sure you had read it right the first time. “Jesus... christ.”

Mingyu smirked and nudged your shoulder with his.

You ignored him and pointed a finger at the camera in disgust. “I cannot believe you made me read this with my own two eyes. I could have lived my entire life without seeing those words in a sentence together!”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mingyu countered, running a thumb along his jawline cockily.

“No, I have beef with whoever tweeted that now.”

“You’re just jealous that I like this tweet better than the threesome one.”

You sighed. “This interview was a bad idea. Your head is already so god damn big.”

Mingyu opened his mouth to retaliate, but paused like he had thought better of it and took a deep breath to compose himself.

“Anyway, moving on.”

You watched as he sifted through the tweets and chose one from the bottom, reading it to himself and grinning slightly before reading it aloud.

“‘Petition for y/n y/l/n to start an OnlyFans because I just know her tits are incredible. I can feel it in my bones’.”

You brought your hands up to your boobs self-consciously and laughed. “I don’t know about that, but thank you.”

“I’ve seen them,” Mingyu added nonchalantly, “and I can confirm that twitter user ‘geminisuns’ is correct.”

“Mingyu!”

“What? Do you know how many sex scenes we had to shoot? We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.”

You looked back over to the crew and made eye contact with the producer. “Do you see what I have to deal with?”

“Maybe we should take a quick break,” she suggested and motioned for the cameras to stop rolling. “Get a drink, freshen up and be back here in five.”

“Do you think they’re going to use that part?” Mingyu asked as he followed you over to the water cooler.

“I don’t know, dude,” you sighed in annoyance, “but great fucking job. The whole world already thinks we’re boning.”

“I don’t know about the whole world.” You glared at him. “Wonwoo knows we’re not.”

Wonwoo. You had nearly forgotten that your boyfriend was there on set with you. You looked around for him, and saw him still sitting in his designated guest chair looking at his phone. You could only imagine what he must be thinking of all of this. You should probably say something to him.

You told Mingyu that you’d be back and made your way across the room to Wonwoo. Even from a distance you could tell that he was upset.

His knuckles were pale and his jaw was tight. He didn’t look up at you when you approached him.

“Sorry this is taking longer than expected,” you said, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured in response, still not looking at you.

You sighed and draped yourself across him, slinging your arms loosely across his shoulders as you leaned down to see what he was doing on his phone. He was scrolling aimlessly on Instagram, not even liking any of the posts.

“If you’re bored you can leave,” you said curtly and stood back up.

“I’m not bored.”

“You’re not even paying attention to the shoot.”

“Trust me, it’s impossible not to. I’ve been trying to tune it out for the past ten minutes with no luck.”

“Why would you not want to pay attention?” you demanded even though the answer was sitting right in front of you. “This is a big deal for me.”

Wonwoo swallowed and finally looked up at you. “I know, baby. It’s just- do you know how hard it is to listen to my best friend talk about doing all of these dirty things to you-”

“He’s my best friend too,” you pointed out in a quiet hiss. “The only reason we’re together is because of him.”

Sometimes you felt the need to remind Wonwoo that you had known Mingyu longer than you had known him. If Gyu hadn’t brought him to set all those times back when you were filming in the fall, you wouldn’t even know about each other’s existence.

“I know that.”

“You’ve done interviews like this before,” you argued.

“I know,” he repeated.

“Then why are you being like this?” He didn’t answer, so you kept going. “You know my bare ass has been on tv, right-”

“Don’t,” Wonwoo warned and grabbed your wrist.

You gasped and flexed your fingers gingerly in his grasp, challenging him. “Don’t what?”

“Y/n,”

“Don’t... act like I want to fuck your best friend?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re enjoying this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Don’t pretend like I’d rather fulfill those tweets with him instead of you? Give the people what they want?”

You had to bite your tongue before you went any further and said something you might regret. Your words had already had the desired effect. You didn’t even have to look at Wonwoo’s lap to know that he was struggling not to get hard.

You could see it in his eyes. The arousal that had turned the warm brown into black. The way he was looking at you told you everything you needed to know. You wondered if you would even make it back home before he’d break, if he would pull the car over on the side of the road and take you then and there.

Your knees were weak at the mere thought of what you were in for later that night. Making Wonwoo jealous was admittedly one of your favorite pastimes, purely for selfish reasons. Possessive sex was arguably the best sex. The teasing, the hair-pulling, the choking, the face-fucking, all hit different when Wonwoo was reminding you who you belonged to.

Wonwoo released your wrist from his grip and raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Are you finished?”

You shook your head and grinned. “Just getting started.”

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback!!

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

Mine Again - Harry Styles

a/n: this is something i just thought about after my nap today lol, so enjoy this treat, a classic exlovers to lovers fic!

pairing: Harry x Famous!Reader

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

Seeing an ex is never easy. Whether it’s by your choice or not. Working together with an ex is even harder and now you brought a situation on yourself where this is your reality.

Arriving to the studio of The Late Late show you immediately get escorted to your designated dressing room where a hair and makeup artist are already waiting for you. Today you are here to promote your new movie, Don’t Worry Darling with your onscreen lover, Harry Styles, however, what no one else in the building knows is that once the two of you were real life lovers.

Your romance blossomed during filming, having spent so much time together on set, it didn’t take long for a relationship to form between you and him, the chemistry you shared was immense and undeniable, anyone could see that and you felt like you were burning in a bonfire of the most intense feelings you’ve felt for any man. It was passionate and intoxicating, it felt like something that could only happen in movies, but it was your reality.

However filming ended and you were forced to go your separate ways, you both tried hard to keep what you had and though your feelings never changed, distance brought the worst out of the both of you. Six months after you became an item, you mutually agreed to break it off.

You haven’t seen him since then, meaning that it’s been five torturous months without having any contact with him and now that promo has officially kicked in, you are forced to travel around and make appearances with the man you love, yes, still love more than anyone on this Earth. Not even five months and absolutely no contact could change your feelings for him, however he might already be over you at this point, having forgotten about feelings and memories you still hold close to your heart.

How has he been doing? What is he like now? Has he been thinking about you? Does he miss you? What is it going to be like to see him for the first time?

The questions flood your mind as you sit in the chair and let the professionals work their magic on you, covering up the dark circles under your eyes that formed due to the sleepless night you had the day before, nonstop thinking about Harry and what it’ll be like to see him for the first time again.

After careful elimination, you choose a dress for the appearance, it’s tight and short, the fabric is covered in glittering sequins down your body and the long sleeves as well and while the dress covers a lot up from the waist, it makes up in the lack of length on your legs as the end of it barely reaches the upper part of your thighs, ending it black feathers that tickle your freshly shaven legs. The nude heels add even more to them, making you appear like you could hit the runway any moment when in reality you are not high enough to be a model.

There’s still some time until the taping starts, James drops by to say hello and tell you how excited he is to have you and Harry on tonight and you chit-chat for a little before you go to take a quick business call outside. When you’re done with that, you head back to your dressing room to take a few quick photos to post later, but right as you near your destination, a door swings open down the hallway and Harry steps out, wearing a black suit, of course, head to toe Gucci. The crispy grey shirt’s first few buttons are left undone, allowing you a glimpse of his toned chest and his necklace with the tiny cross pendant on it.

He looks good. No, he looks absolutely stunning, just like he always does and just the sight of him takes your breath away, forcing you to stop in your tracks when you lay your eyes at him. He spots you as well, stopping to take a look at you before you see a small smile on his perfect pink lips.

“Y/N, hi! You look… gorgeous,” he speaks up lowly, his eyes raking your body up and down.

“I, uhh—Thanks!” you breathe out, feeling already flustered. How are you gonna survive the interview, sitting next to him, talking about what it was like to play a married couple?!

His hand moves a bit and there’s a moment of awkwardness, neither of you really knowing what to do, last time you saw each other you kissed as your hellos, but now it’s not an option, obviously. At last, he moves forward and goes for a hug.

He envelopes you in his arms as you wrap yours around his neck, the warmth of his body bringing you a sense of home and it hits you hard how much you’ve missed him in these five months.

You swear he holds you just a second longer than what would be appropriate before his arms fall from around your frame and you force yourself to let go of him, though every fiber in you is protesting against it.

“How—How have you been?” he asks, his beautiful green eyes finding yours.

“I’m good. I’m good,” you nod. “What about you?”

“Same. Just the… usual stuff.”

“Writing music?” you ask with a soft smile. You still vividly remember those nights you spent together after a long day of filming, crashing at either his or your place and you often found him strumming his guitar in a corner, scribbling words down into his notebook. Sometimes he sang you the songs he came up with, sometimes he kept them to himself.

“Yeah, I’ve been writing a lot lately,” he admits with a shy smile.

Someone calls his name down the hallway and his head snaps up before looking back at you.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you soon, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, stepping aside so he can walk past.

“And you really look amazing, Y/N,” he calls after you one last time before jogging down the hallway.

You walk into your dressing room and shutting the door you lean your back against it, huffing heavily as you try to recollect yourself. Somehow, this encounter went really well, because the two of you were civil and respectful, but it was also a painful shock to see him in the flesh again. It was one thing to see pictures of him here and there, but actually meeting him, hugging him, talking to him… you need time to process it all.

Unfortunately, you don’t have much of that. Twenty minutes later you are walked to your spot behind the curtains from where you’ll walk out when James calls your name. Just as you arrive Harry appears as well, casually talking with one of the camera guys, having a laugh and just as he sees you, his eyes fall down your body again and you swear you see him gulp hard before turning his attention back to the man.

“Ready?” he asks upon walking up to you, a hand coming to rest on your lower back. Glancing over your shoulder you look down at his hand, lips parted at the feeling of his welcoming touch. He sees your glance and pulls his hand back quickly. “Sorry, it’s a habit, I guess,” he mumbles, blushing softly.

“It’s fine,” you smile. Of course it’s fine, for what you care, he could throw you over his shoulder like a cave man and run out of the building, you wouldn’t say a word. You want his touch on your body, you’ve been craving it since the moment you last saw him, but are you even allowed to admit it? You have no idea what he is thinking or feeling, you can’t just come right at him like that.

Harry fixes the lapels of his suit jacket, but what he doesn’t see is that the collar of his shirt is kind of stuck under the jacket.

“Your shirt is… let me fix it,” you breathe out and he turns to face you, letting your delicate hands fix his outfit, perfecting the look to the tiniest bit. “There, you look great,” you smile, your hands sliding down his chest before they fall to your sides again.

“Thank you,” he nods smiling back at you before offering an arm that you take gladly. He knows how much you hate high heels and that you are always scared of tripping and falling and being the gentleman that he is, he’ll be the support you need.

The taping soon starts and the two of you stand patiently behind the curtain as James introduces you.

“And now, please welcome the stars of the upcoming hit movie, Don’t Worry Darling! Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N Y/L/N and Harry Styles!”

The crowd starts clapping and cheering as the curtain moves and the two of you walk in, arms linked and Harry makes sure to slow down when you walk down the few little stairs. James welcomes the both of you with two kisses before everyone takes their place, James behind his desk, you and Harry sitting on the couch.

“Thank you so much for dropping by tonight, guys!” James smiles at the two of you.

“Thank you for having us,” Harry nods with a soft smile.

“You both have been guests on the show separately, but tonight you are here as a pair, since your latest movie, Don’t Worry Darling is hitting the theaters this weekend. How are you feeling about that, excited to see the film finally?”

“Very excited,” you nod with a smile. “I can’t wait to see the final version, because obviously we only know the version we envisioned while filming, but the actual movie is going to be something else.”

“Y/N, your role in the movie was originally handed to Florence Pugh who had to step back because she broke her arm,” James points out and you nod.

“Yes, I stepped in her place just about a week before production started and if I’m being honest I was scared that people would prefer to see her in the role, but I had a talk with her actually and she said she helped Olivia, the director to pick out the person to take her place and she said she instantly knew I would be perfect for it, so I trust her.”

“That’s amazing to hear, that the two of you didn’t have any rivalry going on,” James enthuses.

“She actually visited set a few times,” Harry chimes in and you nod.

“Yeah, we had a great time together.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun, the three of you together,” James chuckles. “So, the two of you play a married couple in the film and if I’m not mistaken you didn’t know each other beforehand. Was it hard to get into the roles with not much background on each other?”

“We met up a few times before filming started to get to know each other more and I think we hit it off right away, so it wasn’t hard for me,” Harry speaks up and you nod along.

“It was obviously a little different situation than when you meet someone and become friends, because as we got to know each other more, we had to go through scenes that were meant for a couple that was already years into their relationship, but I think it strengthened our friendship,” you answer, hands laid flat on your bare thighs.

No lie has been told, everything you said was the truth. You just left out the part where you become real life lovers and started dating a month into production.

“Y/N, you’ve been acting for a while now, have quite a few roles under your belt, what did you think of Harry’s acting?”

“I think that he is a wonderful actor and I hope people will give him his much deserved credit for it. He is often still seen as just a silly singer from a former boy band and they don’t take him seriously when he really is a very talented man. You’ll see in the movie as well, his role was a tough one, needed a lot of work and a wide range of emotions, but I think he did an amazing job.”

You dare to glance at him at the end of your little speech and for a moment you forget about the audience, James and the cameras. He is looking at you with so much gratitude and thankfulness. You remember every talk you had where he opened up to you about wanting to be taken seriously in the acting business, that he is not trying to be just a joke and another failed attempt of a singer to try himself out in movies. He told you how scared he is of not being good enough when you saw him every day on set and you were blown by his eternal talent and special take on his role. He deserves to be praised, he deserves every bit of it.

“It was easy, I had a great partner to learn from,” he smiles softly and you feel the heat crawling up your neck.

“You two really have the chemistry we’ve heard so much about, I can’t wait to see it on the big screen!” James sighs. “Tell me a little about what it was like to film? You guys spent a lot of time together, must have made a lot of memories.”

You take a deep breath as all those memories mentioned flood your mind. You had the best time of your life not just with Harry, but with the whole crew. Leaving after production was wrapped really broke your heart.

“It didn’t even feel like working,” Harry starts. “We always joked around, had lunch or dinner together, we were like a big family. It was so nice to have so many amazing, talented and hard-working people around you all day.”

“The jokes never stopped,” you add chuckling.

“I wish I could have been on set!” James laughs wholeheartedly. “That didn’t happen, but we have a little something. The crew has put together a short BTS video of the filming, so let’s have a look at that,” he announces and the video starts playing on every screen in the studio.

It’s a short little montage, but it captures the vibes of filming just perfectly. Clips shown from set are not just of you and Harry, but all the other cast and crew members. Goofing around, having lots and lots of laughs, dancing on set, which happened quite often and just all of you having a great time. Some of the slips however pain your chest, the ones of you and Harry.

This was very early into your relationship, no one on set even knew you were together, but seeing yourself on the screen you can’t deny the sparkles in your eyes every time you were around him.

A clip shows the two of you between two takes, doing a goofy dance in the kitchen of the home that was used as the set of the house of your characters, you are both wearing your costumes, Harry looks great in his suit and your long retro dress is flowing around you with every movement you make. He grabs you by your waist and spins you before you end up in his arms laughing crazily, you were so happy, so carefree. You wish you could go back to that moment…

Another footage was taken in your trailer when Harry took the place of Clare, your makeup artist and tried to do your eyeliner but miserably failed. In the video, he is gently clasping your chin, angling your face for himself as his other hand is working on the line, but it’s wobbly and way too thick, so you both end up just laughing when you check yourself in the mirror.

And there are some small moments of the two of you, moving around on set, lying in bed between takes, sitting in your chairs while eating, just tiny memories you still cherish so much and wish to live through again, but it’s the past. And it wouldn’t hurt this much if you knew Harry from the video was still yours.

When the video ends you need to blink a few times as your eyes have watered a little. You catch Harry’s gaze and he looks worried, he clearly wants to ask if you’re okay, make sure it was just the sentimentality of the moment, but he doesn’t have the chance, the cameras are still rolling.

“That looked like so much fun! Next time make sure to invite me on set too!” James jokes and you force a laugh out of yourself.

A few questions are asked about future plans and just generally about your careers before the taping finally ends. You thank James for the invite again and a photo is taken of the three of you, you standing in the middle with the two men on your sides. When everything is settled, you head to your dressing room, using the chance to slip away silently while Harry is still chit-chatting on the set.

In the comfort and silence of the dressing room, you lean onto the vanity, staring at yourself in the mirror, finding it ironic that on the outside, you look perfectly fine, healthy and pretty, but on the inside… you could scream. You miss Harry so much, you hoped that your feelings for him have toned down a little over these five months, but it was just the same if not even worse.

A faint knock is heard on the door and you quickly fix yourself before calling out to the person outside. The door opens and for your surprise, Harry steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“Hey, you disappeared so fast,” he softly says.

“Yeah, I’m just… a little tired,” you lie, though you know exactly he can see right through you.

“Y/N, I saw that look in your eyes after the video…”

“What look?” you ask with a huff. “What do you want me to say, Harry?”

“The truth,” he answers. “I’m not James, don’t bullshit me.”

“You want the truth? I’ll give it to you, but don’t blame me if it’s uncomfortable for you,” you chuckle bitterly, throwing your hands into the air. “I’ve been miserable, Harry. I miss you so fucking much, seeing you today was like Hell. I really thought it would be easier, but now I’m stuck with going from one interview to the other with red carpet events all around the world, seeing you every day when I terribly miss you and it fucking sucks, because you might not even feel the sa—“

You don’t get to finish, because Harry crosses the distance between the two of you, his hands grab your face and pulls you into a hard and passionate kiss. His lips move perfectly against yours and it feels like he is trying to squeeze every missed moment from the past five months into the kiss, making you melt into his arms completely.

He is everywhere. He is all you can taste, you breathe him in, his hands are everywhere on your body and your chest is pressed tight against his as you wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into your embrace. Your tongues dance, teeth tugging and pulling on lips, it’s a whole mess, but it’s the most perfect mess you’ve ever been. He takes your breath away completely and you don’t even want it back if it means you can’t have him.

Harry pulls away first, both your chests heaving wildly from the heavy make-out session and he looks down at you with hooded eyes.

“If you think I haven’t missed you like crazy… you can’t be more wrong, baby. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to call you a thousand times and beg for you to come back to me, but I thought you already moved on.”

“Moving on?!” you huff with a tired smile. “Harry, I could never…”

“Alright, then I’m not letting you go again. No way you are walking out of this building without being mine again.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words as you pull him down for another kiss, needing to feel his lips on yours.

“I never stopped being yours,” you whisper against his lips and he moans weakly before crashing his lips against yours again.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles x famous!reader #harry styles exlovers to lovers #harry styles blurb

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storiesforallfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

inspirational ~ corpse husband

word count: 1589

request?: yes!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”

description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best

masterlist (one, two)

Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.

“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”

“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.

(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.

When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.

The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.

He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”

Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”

Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”

“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.

“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.

Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”

“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”

He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”

“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires by accident or something.”

“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”

“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.

He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”

“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”

Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”

“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”

A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.

“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”

This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.

“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”

“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”

“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”

“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”

Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.

Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”

“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”

“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.

Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.

#corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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venicebixch · 3 years ago

Text

2 Weeks part 4 (final part)

this is some s m u t, okay? daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, slapping, choking, gagging, squirting, spitting, sex tape, oral, dom/sub, watching in the mirror, strong sexual language… i think that’s it. you’ve been warned lol. enjoy!

Today is the day Vinnie finally comes home. I’ve been ecstatic all day and I booked a hotel for us since my roommate is home and we can never get alone time in his house. I lay in bed, waiting for his text that he’s back at home, safe and sound. Finally, my phone dings.

Vinnie

do you feel that?

I furrow my eyebrows and giggle a little, confused by his text.

Y/n

um, what?

Vinnie

the disturbance in the force

Y/n

what 😭

Vinnie

I’M HOME

Y/n

YAY!! i have a surprise for you

Vinnie

a surprise??

Y/n

yep. got us a hotel room for the night. a nice one, too. so we can fuck alllll night, uninterrupted

AND i got Michelle to cover my shift so i’m off the next 3 days

Vinnie

i am literally so in love with you, it’s insane. you’re mine as soon as i see you tonight.

—

I arrive to the hotel 20 minutes before Vinnie. I quickly change into the lingerie I bought and get the room ready for him, lighting a few of the candles I brought with me and dimming the lights just a little bit so that they’re not too harsh.

I hear a knock and my heart starts racing. I don’t know why I’m nervous, we’ve been dating for over a year now but I still get butterflies if I’ve gone even a few days without seeing him in person.

I fix my hair and makeup in the mirror on the wall beside the bed and then open the door, keeping behind it a little in case someone is walking by in the hallway.

“Hi, baby,” I say with a smile as he makes his way into the room. He looks me up and down and without saying a word, he slams the door and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me as close as possible and pressing his lips hard to mine. I can smell the familiar scent of his cologne, making me feel safe and relaxed.

Immediately, my legs get weaker and my body throbs, begging for more of his touch. Soft whines escape my lips and fill his slightly parted mouth.

After a minute, he pulls away and exhales a deep breath. “You look so good. Fucking hell, I missed you so fucking much.”

I smile and hug him. “Thank you, baby. I missed you so much.”

“I don’t ever want to go that fucking long without seeing you again,” he grabs my chin and kisses me again. “I barely fucking made it the whole 2 weeks, I dead serious thought about cutting the trip short to come back home to you,” he brushes my hair behind my ear and kisses my forehead.

“We won’t do that again,” I smile and run my hands down his arms. “I’ll be sure to plan better next time, okay?”

“Okay… hey, I have an idea but I don’t know what you’ll think about it,” he looks down at me, the corner of his lips pulled into a small smirk.

“What?”

“Let’s record it it.”

I gasp and smile. “Really? I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“No kidding?” He laughs. “Well, you should’ve said something sooner. Let’s get right into it, baby. I can’t wait,” he walks over and puts his phone on the dresser pointing toward the bed, making sure the angle is right.

I stand beside the bed with my hands clasped in front of me, waiting on him to finish setting it up. I feel shy but also weirdly excited at the thought of us being filmed. I’m definitely excited to watch it back later.

He turns the camera on and does a small spin to look at me.

“Ready, daddy?” I ask in a soft voice, smiling and rocking back to front on my feet.

He lets out a small groan, looking me up and down, and walks over to me, grabbing my neck and pushing me back on to the bed. He spreads my legs and climbs between them, kissing my sweet spot on my neck.

The intensity of the kiss increases and I know he’s trying to leave a mark on me. The little bruises he leaves with his mouth are his way of showing the world I belong to him, and he has no shame in it.

He pulls away after a minute and stands, pulling me to the edge of the bed. “I’m gonna eat you until you cry, princess,” he says in a low voice, getting to his knees.

“I want it, daddy. Make me feel good, I need it so bad,” I whine.

He chuckles and stands again, leaning over me. I feel his hard on pressed against my body and his nose is nearly tip to tip with mine as he wraps his hand around my neck. “Remember when I said you’re gonna pay for all that back talk? Hanging up on me, telling me ‘no’, pouting like a little brat? This will be for my pleasure, not yours,” he whispers. “I said I’m gonna eat you until you cry and I mean it.”

His eyes look black with lust and frustration. He’s looking at me like he never has before and I realize I may have gotten myself deeper than what I’m ready for.

“But daddy, I was good for you too,” I look innocently at him, trying to soften him up. “I did what you asked after that, I said I’m sorry. It won’t happen again, I’ve just been so mad I didn’t get to have you before you left,” I wrap my hand around his wrist over my throat.

He tightens his grip, now cutting off my blood supply and holds it there for a moment before finally releasing me again.

He looks down at me with a sinister smirk on his face. “You’re right baby.”

I don’t respond, not wanting to push him in the wrong direction. He purses his lips and then kisses me gently. I let out a small sigh of relief that he’s calmed down a little bit. We have a safe word and I know he’d stop everything the second I use it but I’ve never had to use it and don’t want tonight to be the first time.

“But you still gotta pay some way, honey,” he slowly pushes my dress up, exposing the lower part of my stomach. His gently touch sends little chills down my spine.

He scans over my body for a moment before he suddenly grabs my arms and pulls me forward off the bed. He sits down and pulls me over him, laying me on my stomach across his lap with his hard cock pressing into me.

“Are you gonna spank me, daddy?” I whine, wigging a little bit.

He grips my waist tight. “Try not to move too much, okay princess? It’ll just make it harder,” He pulls my arms behind me and uses one of his hands to hold them tightly together on my lower back so that I can’t move them. “Such a pretty fucking thing,” he whispers, pulling my dress up to expose me.

His free hand rubs my ass, and up and down the back of my thighs before I feel it disappear. I turn my head to the side, resting my cheek against the mattress underneath us bracing myself for the first impact. My anticipation builds and I find it hard to sit still.

Finally, he smacks me. The stinging pain spreads across my ass down my thighs and the sudden force makes me yelp and recoil against him.

“Fuck daddy!” I groan.

He smacks me again, this time on the other side of my ass. I can feel it turning hot and red already.

“Gonna learn your lesson, honey,” his grip around my arms tighten and he smacks me again. And again. And again.

I can’t help but wiggle on top of him, each hit hurting a little more than the last. I try to loosen his grip on my arms and finally break one free to block his next hit but he grabs it again and pushes both of my arms harder against my back, forcing me to hold still.

“Stop fighting,” he says through clinched teeth. “Take it like a good girl, you deserve this… acting up my whole trip, stressing me out, threatening to touch yourself and telling me I’m powerless,” he chuckles. “We’ll see who’s in charge all said and fucking done.”

I close my eyes try to relax as he continues to lay into me, hit after hit. My core is throbbing and I’m sore. I close my legs tightly, grinding my hips to feel some pleasure to take away from the stinging sensation.

Finally, the spanking comes to a halt and his hand moves to the center of my legs, running up and down my slit through my underwear. The feeling is almost euphoric, making me let out soft moans. So happy to finally feel his hands on that part of me again.

He grips the waistband of my underwear and pulls them up my back, causing them tighten and rub against my clit.

“Mmmf - fuck daddy,” I moan, moving against the fabric to increase the intensity.

“You like that, don’t you my sweet girl?” He whispers.

“Yes, I fucking love it more than anything,” I say, my words slightly muffled against the bed.

“You’re daddy’s little whore, so desperate for me to make you feel good,” he pulls the underwear a little further up my back, further intensifying the sensation. I swear I could cum from this alone.

“Yes I am! I’m your little toy, for you to use anytime you want to cum,” I moan.

“Yeah you are. You’re mine. I do it best for you, make you feel like no one else can. I know exactly what you need, isn’t that right baby?”

“Yes daddy, you know best. You make me cum so fucking good. Make me weak for you, that’s why I’m so needy for you,” I close my eyes and start to get lost in the feeling. He holds my underwear in this position, letting me grind against it before he releases it, making me lose the sensation.

“Ugh, fuck,” I say under my breath. He chuckles and releases my arms, sliding my underwear halfway down my thighs.

He spreads my ass apart to get a clear view of my pussy and I feel him let spit drop from his mouth on to me, adding to my wetness. 2 of his fingers tease my clit before he slides them into me.

“So tight, baby. I can tell you didn’t touch yourself while I was gone. Been a good girl,” he groans and starts thrusting his fingers in and out of me.

“I - I told you…” I moan and grip the sheets of the bed, lifting my hips upward to open myself up a little better.

He picks up the pace of his fingering and I feel that familiar pressure build and then release before I can say anything, squirting on his hand and down my own legs, soaking his pants.

He laughs, excited. “That’s right baby! Let it all out, come on.”

“Feels s-so goo..d,” I groan, letting myself go completely.

“Mm fuck, princess,” he grabs the back of my head by my hair and pulls me back, turning me and lay me on my back on the bed again. “Taste yourself,” he says, shoving his fingers into my mouth. “See how sweet you are?” He whispers, pushing his fingers to the back of my throat. I gag and my body tenses as drool fills my mouth, mixing with my release on his hand.

I moan and nod, unable to speak as I grip his wrist trying to pull his hand out of my mouth to take a breath.

He pulls them out and slaps my face. “Good little whore. Open your mouth,” he grips my chin, forcing my mouth open. He spits into it then let’s go. “Swallow.”

I swallow and then open my mouth again to show him.

“Good girl,” he says, smiling. He pulls me to the edge of the bed and gets back on his knees. He slides my underwear the rest of the way off and leans into me, planting a few small kisses and sucking on the inner part of my thigh. I feel myself getting wetter by the second and his breath tickles me every time he breathes.

He pulls away and I can see the shadow of a bruise starting to form where his mouth was, making me smile. I love being marked up by him. My little reminders of our time together, making me think about him every time I look at them and making me feel dirty in the best possible way.

He lingers over my clit and sticks his tongue out, barely touching me as he runs it small circular motions. His hot breath sends chills through me.

“Daddy, please,” I whine.

He chuckles, his breath feeling even more intense against me. “Okay, princess. I’ll give you what you want since you’ve been so good for me.”

He finally presses his mouth into me, sucking and swirling his tongue over my clit, making me buck my hips with each movement. His puts 2 fingers into me, thrusting. Waves of pleasure wash through from my core up to my chest, making my cheeks flush red.

I wrap my hands in his hair and tug, making him hum against me. The vibration of his voice sends me over the edge already, and I tighten and pulse around him. “I - I’m cumming daddy!”

My high hits me like a train, making me dizzy and breathless. Finally getting the release I’ve been yearning and begging for, for weeks now. It almost sends me to another world completely consumed by the pleasure.

He keeps up his pace until I’m finished and then moves up to my face, kissing me. I open my mouth, swirling my tongue with his.

“Look at you, all fucked out already,” he says softly, smiling down at me. I can’t do anything except smile back as he caresses my cheek, letting me catch my breath.

“I love making you feel good, sweet girl,” he whispers and kisses my forehead. “Seeing that look in your eyes after you cum is the best part of it all.”

He leans back and gets undressed, sitting on the bed beside me. He grabs my arm and pulls me over toward him. “Stand up, baby.”

I stand and face him, waiting for instructions.

“Turn around, face that mirror right there,” he points to the one on the wall next to the bed. I turn and he grabs my hips, pulling me between his legs. “Sit.”

I smile and bite my lip, taking his cock in my hand to guide it as I sink down on to him until he bottoms out, my back pressed against his.

“Fuck,” I whine. “You stretch me and fill me so fucking good, daddy. I missed this so much. It’s all I was able to think about when you were gone.”

He groans and lays back on to the bed, keeping himself propped on his elbows. “I know princess, you feel fucking incredible. So soft and warm for me.”

I moan and start grinding my hips back and forth slowly at first, then pick up the pace. He hits my g spot with every movement I make, making my legs weak. It’s hard to keep a good grinding rhythm partially standing like this so I start bouncing on him gently. The sound of our bodies hitting against each other echo on the walls around us.

“Fuck baby, you look so good in this outfit. Teases me just enough,” he leans forward and grabs my waist, looking around my shoulder to watch us in the mirror. “But let’s get it off you,” he says, pulling it over my head, leaving me naked.

He reaches around and grabs my tits as I bounce on him, pinching my nipples and tugging on them. “Put your feet on the bed, baby,” he says, scooting back a little to give me move room.

I do as he says, putting my legs on each side of us, spreading myself out completely on full display in the mirror.

One of his hands move up to my neck, gripping it as his other stays latched to one of my nipples. He starts thrusting into me, holding me against his back.

Loud moans and whines roll from my throat, feeling him fill me up completely with every one of his movements.

I look at ourselves in the mirror and start rubbing my clit to add to my pleasure, almost immediately sending me over the edge again.

“Look at how you wrap around me, baby girl,” he moans, smacking my tit that he was holding on to.

“I‘m…” I can’t finish my sentence as my eyes roll to the back of my head.

“I know baby,” he whispers in my ear, sending tingles down my spine.

I relax and my hips sink down on him, holding still as he finishes me off, sending me into euphoria. Once I finally come back around, he gently pulls me off of him.

“On your knees,” he say in a low voice, standing up.

I drop, still trying to gather my thoughts. Before I can say or do anything he pushes his cock past my lips and into the back of my throat, making me gag. I close my eyes and put my hands on his thighs to try to keep him at bay.

“Drop your hands,” he says quietly.

I hesitate then drop them to my sides, letting him take control.

“Good girl.”

He holds my head still and starts thrusting. Gargling noises escape from my throat and drool drips down my chin on to my chest.

“Look at me,” he groans.

I open my eyes and look at him. His face is contorted with pleasure, his hair is sticking to his forehead and his lips are slightly parted. His loud moans now fill the room around us.

“So pretty with my cock down your throat, making daddy so fucking proud of you.”

His words excite me all over again and I relax a little bit, letting him push even further into my mouth. I hum against him, never breaking eye contact.

“Mmm fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, throwing his head back and pulling out of my mouth.

“Open,” he demands, stroking himself over my face. I open wide just in time for spurts of his cum to cover me tongue and cheeks. I smile, happy that he’s finally gotten his release.

I wipe the excess off my face and shovel it into my mouth, then close it to to swallow but he pulls my hair back, stopping me.

“Keep it open,” he says in a low voice and bends down, spitting into my mouth. “Okay, swallow.”

I swallow.

“Let me see.”

I smile and open my mouth again, showing that it’s all gone.

“Fuck baby,” he smiles, and helps me stand up. “I can’t wait to watch this back,” he says walking over to his phone on the dresser and ending the video.

“Oh shit, I totally forgot about that,” I giggle.

“We’ll watch it later. Let’s get you in the shower, honey,” he says, pulling me into the bathroom. He sees the jacuzzi style tub and smiles. “Damn, this is a nice hotel, isn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” I nod. “I searched high and low for the best one I could find.”

“How many nights are we here?”

“Just tonight.”

“We’re gonna have to change that. I’ve got an idea,” he says, scanning the room.

This man is going to be the death of me. “You always have an idea,” I say, giggling.

#vincent hacker #vinnie hacker #vincenthacker #vinniehacker #vinnie #vinnie x reader #vinnie fanfic #vinniehackerfanfic #vinniehackerimagines #vinniehackersmut

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shotorozu · 4 years ago

Note

hello! i love ur writings <3

wanted to request a hc of todoroki, deku, and bakugou and their reactions to the tiktok trend where those two girls are laughing and ppl put their friends/family members in the camera thinking it’s their friend or something 💀 (here’s a link to one of the videos https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe6oFVx5/ )

once again, love ur work and hopefully i did this request correctly 😩🙏🏽

s/o’s friends laugh at them

character(s) : bakugou katsuki, midoriya izuku, todoroki shouto (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk’s not specific

headcanon type : crack, fluff (x reader)

note(s) : i always say that i’m going to upload more, since i haven’t in a day but i’m going to keep my promises this time. and maybe after my content dump, that’s when i’ll fix my masterlists

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki

this prank was very risky just like the other pranks you’ve pulled on him but that doesn’t stop you at all

you decided to do this prank after seeing it on the fyp— and also because of the prank’s simplicity since all you needed to do was download the tiktok

you called katsuki over when he finishes working out, and it all seems innocent “katsuki! come over here.”

katsuki, irritated— as he had just finished his exercise, he marches over to where you’re seated “what now, dumbass?”

“i want you to meet my friends!” katsuki only raises a brow, because he’s PRETTY sure that he’s met all of your friends

“now??” he sighs, “i thought i met all of your stupid friends.”

“not all of them,” you grin “c’mon please, katsuki?” and it’s over when your eyes twinkle, and he can only sigh— sitting next to you

“okay, let me meet them” he asks, and you pull up with your phone (that’s now filming, and with the video playing) and show him your ‘friends’

“this is katsuki! my boyfriend,” you introduce him to your ‘friends’

and he’s SO offended when your friends burst into laughter, “WHAT THE HELL’S SO FUNNY, EXTRAS??”

man was really about to explode your phone into pieces— and i’m serious about that part 🧎‍♂️ his hands were creating mini sparks out of anger

you had to coax him that it was just a prank, and they weren’t actually your friends

katsuki’s just 😐 “what did i expect from you?”

promise him that the video won’t go viral, and it won’t be seen by thousands and thousands of people.

you were wrong, and the video AND the audio ended up going viral. and katsuki had to hear his voice on tiktok for WEEKS.

“YOU TOLD ME IT WOULDN’T GO VIRAL DUMBASS” he fumes, red irises zeroing in on you.

“WELL SORRY— I DONT CONTROL THE ALGORITHM, but at least you’re famous!”

“fuck off,” he doesn’t mean that. but he just needs to learn how to not fall for your shit again, despite being really whipped for you

midoriya izuku

you’d feel bad because izuku’s ALWAYS at the receiving end of your pranks 💀

similar to bakugou, you decided to prank him because of the simplicity of the prank— and he wouldn’t get TOO offended by the prank’s nature, right? wrong 💀

izuku swings the door open, a couple of snacks held in his arms, “hey Y/N! i brought some snacks— what did you need me for?”

“oh, i want you to meet my cousins!”

he immediately goes red, setting down the snacks he brought to your room “your c-cousins? oh no no no, Y/N why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve showered before hand— i could’ve fixed my face and wore something different—”

poor izuku. he’s gesturing to his post workout state, since he was in such a hurry to get to your room with snacks.

but you brush his concern off “don’t worry, izuku! it’s through call. they won’t be able to smell you anyway.”

he calms down, and this when you decide to start the tiktok. “i’m going to call them,” he only nods, quickly hurrying over to your side— to meet your ‘cousins’

“say hi, izuku!” he nervously smiles, showing his face to the camera and waving his hand— totally oblivious of the intentions

he’s stammering on the introduction, and that’s when the rather hysterical laughing starts

he blinks, the feeling of defeat courses through his entire body— the green haired boy immediately moves away from the view

why exactly is izuku genuinely sad from your ‘cousins’ laughing at him? well,, it was always a thing for him to try his very best to be likeable to your relatives

your parent(s)/guardian? they adore him. siblings (if there’s any) they’re also very fond of him. so while you say that they’re your cousins— it still means a lot if he made a good impression

“i,, should’ve changed!” he sulks, the fact that the laugh was quite hysterical didn’t aid the issue, “your cousins will never like me,,”

his mind is put at ease when you tell him it’s a prank— and they’re not actually your cousins. so he doesn’t need to do any redeeming, regardless of the fact that he ‘just met’ them

he sighs in relief, actually glad that it was all just another innocent tiktok prank (that did make his heart race 10x faster)

the video blows up, his distraught reaction being splayed across the fyp, it eventually getting onto twitter— his face being used as an reaction video

“you’re viral, izuku!”

he’s content, despite his distraught reaction being spread across the internet. but he just wishes that your actual cousins don’t see it 💀

todoroki shouto

is most likely aware of your tiktok pranks— but please 💀 this one looked realistic to him, so how was he supposed to tell??

anyways, you decided to do this prank because you wanted to see how he’d react to your ‘family members’ laughing at him. his reactions are golden though

it’s harmless, in a way— it’s mostly a harmless prank. shouto knows how to not take things too seriously, but you just wanted to see his reactions.

“shouto, could you please come over here?” you call for him to sit right next to you, patting his usual spot next to you.

“what is it?” he asks, getting comfortable next to you, kissing your temple— and that’s when you pull out your phone

“i want you to meet my siblings!”

shouto’s puzzled, because one— he always prefers to meet your family members in person, and two— he didn’t know you had siblings (or more siblings)

“we’re not meeting them in person?”

“oh wait! i forgot to mention that they’re working abroad. so we can’t really schedule a meeting in person.”

shouto’s skeptical, but you reassure him further “it’ll be quick!”

the dual haired boy chooses to believe you which was honestly really wrong of him, “alright, i’ll meet them.”

he moves next to you, peaking at the screen “say hi to shouto!”

he was expecting a few things but,, them breaking out into hysterical laughter was just something else

shouto’s so confused 💀✋ someone please help him, it’s like you spoke to him in simlish. that’s what his reaction would be like.

and he’s just thinking things like— why are you guys laughing? is there dirt on my face? i didn’t even say anything funny??

“why are they laughing? love, i didn’t even say anything funny??”

oblivious shouto. he’s not even aware that it’s all just a tiktok prank. but he must say— he’s a little bit disappointed that he already has a bad impression on your ‘siblings’

it’s your turn to laugh, making his thinking at a vague state— shouto’s trying to think of pieces of dialogue he might’ve missed

“it’s a prank, shouto— look,” you replay the tiktok of the girls laughing, and it comes clearly to him now

“oh.” 🧍 honestly, why is he so shocked? it wasn’t the first time you managed to prank him in such a similar nature.

he’s not mad though— rather, shouto’s impressed. “love, i adore you— but i’m not sure on why i got surprised.”

“right? i’d think that you’re used to this but i guess you’re not!” nah, he just believes you a little bit too easily.

but that doesn’t mean he WON’T be suspicious when he actually has to meet your siblings.

“these,, are actually your siblings? no pranks this time, right?” he just wants to make sure. he won’t fall for your potential pranks again!

also, the video does well, the comments being filled with “LMAO HE LOOKED GENUINELY CONFUSED” “shouto todoroki being confused for 20 seconds straight 🤠❓❓”

shouto is very confused on why the girls were just laughing, putting everything aside— he just doesn’t know the context of that tiktok 🧎‍♂️

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

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hyunjilicious · 4 years ago

Text

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer.

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next.

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation.

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information.

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind.

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes.

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you.

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display.

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet.

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs.

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment.

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter.

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes.

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted.

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear.

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties.

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease.

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?"

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?"

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-"

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Did he spank you good?"

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me"

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him.

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before.

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear.

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear.

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise.

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it.

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going.

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone.

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now.

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely.

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible.

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing.

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times.

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fics #august walker x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #walter marshall x reader #ahh #a helping hand

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bloomingjungwon · 4 years ago

Note

please write a heeseung college!au !!!! ♡♡

college!au heeseung

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: thank you for requesting! sorry if this is so long, i kind of got carried away and i was kind of inspired by one of my favorite blogger's writing style

major: cinematography (don't ask why, i can just imagine him being so into making motion pictures)

he'd probably minor in like north american or woman studies tbh

i can see him as a really quiet, doesn't involve himself in too many things, kind of student

doesn't really speak up when it isn't needed

but if it's a topic he's really familiar with, you can't shut him up

definitley the type of student to sit in the very front even if the classroom has like a billion seats left open

i also see him as the type to never be in the library, he usually just studies out on the grass or in a very underrated cafe.

lives off of coffee to the point his roomate!jake tells him he smells like coffee 25/8

you know how gym freaks take a shot of like protein powder before their workout? yeah that's him but with ground up coffee beans if he is in a rush and doesn't want to wait for his coffee to brew.

it's kinda funny, you don't know heeseung, and he doesn't know you. but you pass each other almost everyday because you also go to the same cafe as him.

like youre always leaving as he enters and like????

hello how r u not noticing such an amazing human being

but dont worry, ya'll meet some day

you're walking across your campus and the bulletin board catches your attention

amongst all the papers screaming "tutor needed" or "join our club", theres a flier SMACK DAB in the middle

"class do20 presents mini films at flint theatre this friday!"

and like, that peaks your interests

because you've always appreciated people's works

but you're kinda just standing in the middle of the walkway and staring at it , you don't realize someone standing next to you

"are you going to go and watch?"

you nearly jumped out of your skin cause like, who tf just talks to someone without getting their attention first

heeseung does

and now he's just staring at you waiting for an answer

"uh,, yeah seems kind of interesting. why? are you?"

"i have no choice to. i'm a part of it, i just haven't started on my film yet."

.... homie, the show is on friday and it's currently tuesday

silence

no words or expressions are exchanged and you're just staring awkwardly at each other

but in reality, you two are just silently admiring each other's features

"do you want to be a part of my film?"

your blank expression turned into a "wtf" kind of expression

"you want me, a complete stranger, to be a part of your film?"

he proceeds to tell you that it'll be a lot easier for him to work with a stranger since he'd most likely not mess around

because this boy needs to get his assignment done asap

and you kind of hesitate but then you're like "well, fuck it. sure"

and then he smiles. and holy

this guy has one of the most captivating smiles ever and you literally feel your heart stop for a small second

"let's get started today, if that's okay with you?" he suggests

and you agree and tell him you have one more class, but he can meet you at a cafe you're usually at

and now it's his turn for his heart to skip a beat because he's talking to an attractive person who just willingly agreed to help him on his project AND goes to the same underrated cafe???

but before he can say anything.. you're already walking away

and now he's just standing there dumb and love struck

but yeah heeseung is already at the cafe thirty min early while he waits for you, camera out facing the door, waiting for you to enter

catches you on film as you walk inside and he kinda just watches you in awe as you're scanning the room to find where he is

you give him a small smile and wave and in that moment, heeseung knew what title he was giving his film

you take your seat and you're like "so, what would you like me to do?"

and heeseung just asks you to do whatever you would usually do at the cafe

and you're like oh sweet. that's easy.

so you ask him what kind of coffee he wants and when he tells you, you stand up to leave and order coffee

he films everything

from you standing in line awkwardly, you picking at your nails, scrolling through your phone, ordering... literally everything

you come back holding both cups (which of course he films too)

"i usually just do my homework while i'm here, but i don't have a lot today"

"that's fine. you can just do it, and if it's okay, i can ask you questions to get to know you better."

"yeah that's okay with me. i can multitask well. i think."

that earns you a chuckle from him

he angles the camera at the end of the end of the table, focusing on you

and ya'll just do homework together and learn new things about each other

like how you eat pizza with a fork and knife because you refuse to get your hands dirty

which heeseung reacts with "do you need professional help?"

but homie blurts out he lives and breathes off of ramen noodles and his roomate!jake has to restock for him every two days

and you're like.... "you're the one who needs professional help."

and for a couple hours

you guys are just goofing around and talking to each other as if you've known each other for years

homework done, three cups of coffee later, heeseung's camera runs out of battery so he calls it a day

chooses the next location to film

a dog park

so the next day, classes done, you meet him at the dog park, and even brought your dog

films you throwing tennis balls, petting dogs, and even you getting chased by a dog

laughs throughout the whole filming process but then internally regrets it because he notices it could probably be heard in the video

breaks it to you that he has enough content for his project

and lowkey youre kind of sad because you've had fun being around him the past two days but you keep it to yourself

"i'm glad i could help. i can't wait to see it heeseung."

loves the way you say his name and now he's sad too because he doesn't really have an excuse to hang out with you more

so ya'll part ways after saying bye

but it's not some dramatic "i'm never going to see them again"

cause ya'll run into each other again at the cafe the next day

and it's kind of unspoken but ya'll just silently agree to sit down with each other and work on homework

you, reading out of your textbook, and him working diligently on his laptop (shh he's editing his film)

and you kind of steal glances his way and he's just smiling to himself as he works

and that's because he loves the way his film is coming along, and he loves seeing you

because in that moment, you both realize you have feelings for each other

but once again it's unspoken cause you're both scaredy cats

you call it a day and say bye and him back

you guys don't see each other until the night of the film show

and you're like okay i'll tell him i have feelings for him after the show

little did you know, he was thinking the same thing about you

but he's up in the film booth sweating his ass off because he knows you're somewhere in the crowd

and all of a sudden he doesn't want to be there

"what if they don't like me in that way?" "what if they take my video the wrong way?"

internally and externally panics

but before he can grab his cd and break it, the lights turn off and oh shit the show is starting

tbh, the films from the other students were quite interesting and you were enjoying each one

but this uncomfortable feeling was forming in the pit of your stomach

were you anxious? nervous?

idk but you were anticipating heeseung's film

and finally on the screen appeared heeseung's picture and biography

you didn't even notice the smile growing on your face

you thought to yourself, what did he even name his film?

"love through my eyes"

....love??

does heeseung have feelings for me too? or did they switch up someone's film with his??

but nope, there was no switch up

you watched yourself on the screen, from you smiling at him at the first moments in the cafe, to you laughing at his eating habits, and to you being chased by the dog, audibly hearing heeseung's giggles

but you thought it was over until there were more clips of the both of you in the cafe

however, they weren't from the first meeting. the clothes you both were wearing were different

wait, isn't this from two days ago? he filmed us that day?

from a hidden angle, the camera caught you two stealing glances at each other when the other wasn't paying attention.

you looked at him with stars in your eyes, and when you went back to your textbook, he stole glances at you as if your were his entire universe

speechless, the film ended, and with his film being last, the show ended and the lights turned back on

you didn't even applaud, for you ran out of the building immediatley, looking for heeseung

and there he is at the entrance of the theatre just staring at his feet

looks up when you hear him running up to him

"so... the film" he starts

but you don't let him finish because you pull him by the shirt and kiss him

and he's shocked because what the fuck they're kising me?!?!

but relaxes and kisses you back

and yeah, that's how your relationship starts

and expect him to film you at random times

would probably treasure "love through my eyes" and play it as a surprise at your guys' wedding in the future

im crying

#enhypen #heeseung #lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung #enhypen au #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen fic #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung fluff #heeseung au #heeseung imagines #enhypen scenarios

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aminiatureworld · 3 years ago

Text

Spotlight

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,707

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Modern AU in which the reader’s s/o is famous.

Author’s Note: My first crack at a modern AU and I enjoyed it immensely! My personal media of choice definitely came through in this prompt. I would now kill for Albedo to read Shakespeare. Also streamer Kazuha is an inspired idea, thank you anon for that! Not to mention musician Xiao, truly chef’s kiss.

Albedo

Albedo was a stage actor, both by education and by trade. Starting in high school he began in local productions, before entering into the Mondstadt Theateracademie. After appearing as Estragon in a filmed version of Waiting for Godot, he began to be scouted for various television miniseries, eventually becoming a well-respected film actor.

You arrived somewhere in the middle of his career. Working as a costume assistant at the Academie you had quickly fallen for the inquisitive and deceptively intense soul that exuded every color of emotion onstage, from raging anger to soft sorrow, before stepping into the wings and resuming an aura of utter calm. He had captivated you, both as an actor and as a human being; and when you learned that he had also become slightly infatuated with you, well, it was hard not to feel like you had stepped into a wonderful play, or perhaps simply a wonderful play had been brought to life.

The switch from theatre to screen was certainly a jarring one for both of you. When the first film contract was offered Albedo had stared at it for a long time, rereading it over and over again as the coffee in front of him quickly turned cold.

“Is there something wrong with the contract?” You had asked.

“No, it’s not that. It’s only…”

“Only?”

“Only on stage there is a single audience. You can feel their reactions, can measure their response. There is nothing nebulous about the people around you. But on film you cannot do that. You cannot adjust for time of day, or whether it’s a weekend or a Friday performance. You must let your lines out and hope that they land without even being able to calculate it.”

“It’s not a science experiment my darling,” you had teased.

“Maybe not,” Albedo admitted. Still he continued to read and reread, and it was only until the next afternoon that he had told you his answer.

Still, you had to admit that he made a fantastic actor. The naturally inward part of your partner’s personality, the part that always seemed to jump out the moment he left the stage, worked well to balance with the camera’s need for subtlety, unlike the projection required for stage plays. It was little surprise then that he should grow so popular. Despite all the worries about measuring audience response, there was no doubting the success of Albedo’s acting career.

Being a naturally withdrawn person Albedo mostly stayed off of social media. He had one private Instagram for friends – he didn’t post anything; one private Facebook for family – the only picture was one of you two in the mountains next to a particularly weird looking rock; and WhatsApp – which could barely be counted. Thus when he started blowing up on Twitter – a platform you had a mostly unused account on – the reaction was mostly one of “why are they talking about me?”

Not that Albedo minded fan enthusiasm, indeed when people started showing up in droves at the stage door for him he was always careful to thank everyone collectively and talk to as many people as possible, it just sort of confused him that so many people should take a vested interest in the actor and not just the character.

“It’s because they want to show you how wonderful they think your performances are,” you’d explained.

“I don’t have Twitter,” Albedo deadpanned.

Despite his protests though you sometimes caught him scrolling on your account, face slightly red at all the positive attention. His habit of internal self-deprecation had never truly gone away. That fact became slightly unfortunate in the face of hate comments. It was hard for Albedo not to take things personally. If someone said his acting was shit then you would catch Albedo reading the same line over and over again, as if to achieve mathematical perfection. It was a difficult urge to fight, and you were always careful to give Albedo plenty of reassurance when these things popped up, as well as surreptitiously blocking the trolls that wandered their way onto your dash.

This habit to take things at face value did not apply when you entered the mix. As far as Albedo was concerned you were his partner and no amount of complaining online would make him second guess that or second guess your worth. Even if you thought that you had a better hold on social media assholerly than he did Albedo would still make sure that for every hate comment that floated your way there were at least three compliments on his part. Mentioning you off-handedly in press interviews, saying that he had to go home to his partner, leaving small sketches on post-it notes scattered throughout your apartment, there were no lengths that Albedo wouldn’t go to assure you. And, if you had to admit, these things truly did make you feel better on the days when the small part of your brain said that this wasn’t mindless social media harassment.

Being an actor Albedo had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of the way that people responded to emotions, as if he were performing some grand sort of scientific experiment to see how many people he could sway with his gift. As of such he was always careful that, regardless of his success, things between you were never upturned. You were with him before he was really famous, and you would be there during and after. Albedo loved you deeply; though he often said that he hated romance plays for how sappy they were in his mind your relationship was the one, glowing exception – regardless of the other happy couples in the world. Though it was slightly idealistic, it was the kind of intensity that comprised Albedo’s personality, was the thing that had garnered him so much success.

Albedo loved you deeply, and no amount of surprise movie contracts would change that.

Kazuha

You had to admit that when you had met Kazuha you had no idea about his double life as a streamer. He was merely one of the many singers that came and went to the recording studios, all people eager to unleash their talent on the world. But unlike the rest of them, Kazuha could make you laugh.

Perhaps then it was unsurprising that Kazuha should be a popular streamer. Though his often florid talking style might seem on paper like it would be too grating for streaming, in reality his soft cadence combined with a dry sense of humor made him wildly popular. He rarely lost his temper, making him palatable to those who wanted to have a fun time without blowing their ears out, and when he did lose it his hyper-specific, often nonsensical insults were the stuff of memes. No, in retrospect it was not all that surprising that Kazuha was a beloved streamer.

At heart though, Kazuha had told you over coffee, the enthusiastic and earnest internet sensation was a poet.

“When you’ve had a life as dissonant as mine, how can you not be?” He’d joked. And indeed perhaps he was right, for Kazuha was as wonderful a poet as you had ever read. He was born to be a writer, you had told him.

You were also an aspiring singer, as well as a friend of the studio owner where you did your recordings. As such you had made it a habit to help around the studio when you weren’t also working or studying. As you and Kazuha were both students with intense side jobs, the good natured complaining of overworked students also made their way into you rapport, a friendship that grew day-by-day. Eventually it sprouted into love.

Though you knew that Kazuha was a streamer when your relationship started, in reality you hadn’t realized how truly popular he had become. The first time you watched one of his streams you were blown away by his popularity. Watching your first livestream only cemented that. It was hard to believe that your down-to-earth, slightly self-effacing, partner could have garnered such a large fanbase. Not that you didn’t think he deserved it. He absolutely did. However after seeing that you admitted you were a bit awestruck.

“Why? Am I not the same person on screen and off?”

“Of course you are! It’s just, well, my partner’s a celebrity!”

“I would go that far,” Kazuha laughed.

“Well you certainly are to me!”

Nevertheless your dynamic didn’t change much afterwards, besides the occasional teasing on both of your parts. Kazuha was after all Kazuha at the end of the day.

At the beginning Kazuha didn’t mention you much on stream, certainly not by name, you had to admit you were a bit intimidated by the idea of being recognizable on the internet, even if it was just by name.

“This is also my partner’s favorite map.” Had been his first mention, during a game of Mario Kart.

Despite this offhanded remark however the chat had almost immediately exploded, followed by the rest of the fanbase. Though there was, of course, some disappointed buzz – isn’t there always – the reaction was immensely positive. Positive, and curious.

After a while Kazuha started mentioning you more often in streams, especially after the two fo you moved in. Sometimes you would hear him as you passed him room – Kazuha liked to keep the door open – other times you would watch it on stream yourself.

“My partner hates this character. Too bad you can’t throw evidence.”

“Nobody tell my partner that I’m afraid of basements. I don’t need them to know that when laundry day rolls around.”

“Hey if you’re watching this dear, I promise that it’s not that much money. You don’t need to look at the bank account. Who am I kidding, this is why we don’t share one.”

“Hey, darling I know you’re watching this. Can you check and make sure I left my keys on the coffee table, they aren’t on my desk. Also can you make tea?”

Despite fans knowing very little about you, you were surprised by the amount of positive comments that flooded the streams. You had to admit that your initial expectations had been “people are going to find me annoying”. Instead funny comics of your voice drifting in from the other room popped up, along with a lot of waving and “tell your partner not to trust you with the keys” after Kazuha fell off a cliff one too many times. It was an odd experience, to be so happy about the comments of faceless people, people to whom you were also faceless.

Eventually Kazuha’s hardwork in singing paid off and his first single was recorded and given a deal. On the evening of the release livestream Kazuha set up in the living room, angling the camera so that you could sit on the chair just out of frame. You had talked about the release for months now, and a few weeks ago Kazuha had brought up the idea of a pseudo-stream reveal.

“I was wondering if you’d like to say hello to the audience or wave when my song is released. I understand that you’re hesitant about those sort of things, and I would never ask of you something that would make you uncomfortable. This relationship is the most precious thing to me, and I wouldn’t want you to feel pressured or exploited in any ways.”

“Thank you for being so considerate Kazuha. I’ll think about it.”

Now you sat in the chair, fidgeting slightly, waiting as the countdown on his laptop reached one. You excitement certainly seemed matched by that of the fans, who were typing wildly in the chat.

Eventually the screen faded to black and the chatting quieted down. The first few notes of a wooden flute emerged, combined with the strumming of a guitar. As the familiar words began to echo through the laptop speaker you found yourself washed away. Kazuha was always enthralling when he sang. At the end of the song was a dedication, and though Kazuha had already alluded to it, the sincerity still took your breath away.

To my dearest partner. My compass and my guiding star throughout this realization of my dream. You are my sun and my stars, and I’m forever devoted to you. Thank you for sharing in this project, and thank you for giving me such love.

Perhaps it was slightly saccharine. Regardless you felt the sudden, uninhibited urge to cry.

“So, what did everyone think?” Kazuha asked into the mic, face reappearing on screen. He was slightly giddy, and you watched as his hand tugged on the fabric of his linen belt.

Immediately the chat exploded, as waves of “that was amazing”, “I’m crying now”, and “the end was so sweet!” flooded the screen.

“Thank you all for the encouragement!” Kazuha let out a laugh, one that you could tell was one of utter euphoria, and no little relief. “There’s someone else I think who would like to thank you.”

Who knew that a small sentence could cause such a splash?

You barely had time to let out a tentative “Hello,” before an immediate wave of excited screaming covered the bottom left of Kazuha’s stream. “Thank you for supporting Kazuha’s song. And thank you for always being nice to me.” With a tentative wave of the hand you collapsed back on your chair, slightly hysterical laughter rising inside you out of the relief that flooded through you upon seeing the enthused fan reaction.

Afterwards your voice became the occasional guest on Kazuha’s streams, always greeted with enthusiasm. Kazuha continued to grow in popularity, and his music continued to capture a larger and larger audience.

All throughout this you never felt a snag in your relationship. Kazuha may have been a big streaming personality, but he was also a kind and considerate partner, the best that one could ask for in a significant other. Kazuha’s love was never in question. And neither was yours.

Xiao

Sometimes you were a little self-conscious about the way that you met Xiao.

Though Xiao had definitely grown a following by the time you met – being the main pianist for a popular singer and a classical pseudo-prodigy in both piano and flute his own right certainly had roped him an enthusiastic fanbase – you had simply known him as “the guy who hogs the practice room”.

“I swear to the gods, how long can that bastard take to practice!” You texted angrily at your friend one day. Qixing Conservatory was the premiere music place in Liyue, but what should’ve been an amazing opportunity was being overshadowed by a practice room partner who appeared to not have a life, one who also had the obnoxious habit of playing the same damn thing over, and over, and over again.

“Playing the same piece as before?”

“Yes! Ugh I don’t even know what it’s called but I’ve heard it enough times to last a lifetime, maybe five!”

“Damn I’m sorry, what time does he usually end?”

“I don’t even know. Some time in the early evening. It’s obviously never gotten through to his brain that other people also need to practice. Or that hearing the same notes over and over while waiting makes me want to chuck my binder against a wall.”

“Lol. I kinda want to hear it now. Can you send a video, will the sound pick up?”

“I don’t know how it wouldn’t.”

“…”

“Holy shit! Okay, I need you to watch this video and tell me if you recognize the pianist.”

Safe to say you nearly fell out of your chair upon figuring out Xiao’s identity. Not that you weren’t already about to out of pure exasperation. Still, there was something much more intimidating about shaming a successful musician, and you no longer had the urge to glare at Xiao every time he left the practice room. Honestly, you would have been perfectly happy keeping your head down and never interacting with him at all.

Fate, however, has a sense of humor.

To be fair, some of it was your fault. You knew that Erlkonig was a massively difficult piece. You knew that you should’ve picked something else, knew that even Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata mvt. Three had to be less painful than the non-vocal arrangement you’d placed in front of your eyes. You were never trusting your music taste with your piece choices again. This was a terrible mistake.

“These stupid fucking running notes!” You let out, a groan of exasperation racing through you. Half slamming (you weren’t crazy) the piano cover down you swung the door of the practice room open. You didn’t want to deal with this anymore. Trying to ignore the embarrassment that rose up seeing Xiao waiting on a chair next to the door you went to walk down the hallway.

“You should work on it with a dotted sixteenth note pattern.”

It was the first time that Xiao had ever spoken to you.

Afterwards a rapport slowly grew between the two of you. Often Xiao said nothing as you passed, rarely you made a gesture of recognition when he finally reappeared from the practice room. However soon the occasional word or phrase of advice grew into longer sentences, later these sentences evolved into pieces of conversation. Soon enough you discovered, to your slight horror, that you found yourself yearning for Xiao’s company.

Almost as soon as you’d finally figured out your feelings you were hit with a wave of denial. You weren’t falling for Xiao? How could you fall for someone who got on your nerves so much? Sure he gave you advice, but what about it? You deserved it after having to hear him over and over again while waiting. Certainly Xiao didn’t seem interested in you, he barely talked to you! Yeah he was getting more talkative, but it’s easier to talk to people when you’re giving them advice. There’s no way you were in love with Xiao. And there was no way he was in love with you.

To say that Xiao’s career as a musician, never mind his genuine technical talent at two instruments, was a barrier would be an understatement. The moment you thought you were making some progress, finally admitting to yourself that this crush was, in fact, real, a wave of anxiety would pass over you. Xiao was too good for you, he was too important. Here was a man who had a successful musical career already up in the air while you banged frustratedly on the keys. Why would someone that successful be interested in you? Not to mention the fact that he didn’t seem interested.

Because, you had to admit, you did like Xiao’s music. Not just his classical repertoire, but his pop music as well. It was slightly jazzy, mellow and playful and utterly unlike the scowling musician behind it – something you secretly thought extremely cute and surprisingly charming. To him you were just a practice roommate, and you were sure he’d find the idea of dating someone who was more familiar with his public persona irritating.

So you buried your feelings, or tried to. Unfortunately like sometimes attracts like, and just as Xiao secretly had the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, you weren’t nearly as clever about things as you would like.

“Is there something on my face?” Xiao asked, his voice gruff and slightly reluctant.

“No, why would there be?”

“Because you’re staring at it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” You let your head drop, looking intently at the ivories in front of you. Eventually there was a sigh.

“You don’t have to do that. I… I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! You staring down is weird too. Let’s, let’s just hurry up and do this passage.”

After that you became more aware of your staring habit. You also became more aware of Xiao’s own habit, leaning towards you. Sometimes you swore that you could feel the tips of his hair tickling your neck, light and feathery and stealing all your attention.

“Hey, Xiao, do you need glasses?”

“Why would you asked that!” Xiao flared up, face reddening. By this time you’d become more accustomed to these flareups of grumpiness, and ignoring it you pressed on.

“It’s just, you seem to be leaning forward.”

“I’m not!” Immediately Xiao shifted back, almost stepping away. Without thinking about it you reached to grab his hand.

“I didn’t mean it was a bad thing!” You got out, before becoming aware of your hand grasping Xiao’s. The touch felt electric, and you were suddenly so very aware of everything, yet unable to focus at all.

“Then you shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Xiao grumbled.

Slowly the musician leaned closer to you once more. You had already half stood up and now you found yourself stepping closer to Xiao. The world continued to shrink until you were almost pressed together. Xiao was leaning forward, as were you, and the longer tufts of his hair were tickling your cheek, helped by the fan whirring away in the corner. Your hand was still in his, but all your thoughts appeared to have died away.

“Xiao?”

“Is this, too close?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Xiao?”

“What?”

“I like your music. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know. I just, I also like you, not just your music. But I also like your music.”

“I also like yours too.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic of confessions, but at that point you were far too carried away by the moment, or maybe by the fact that was the most sentences Xiao had strung together that weren’t about triplets. Regardless of the fact, you were suddenly seized by incredible happiness, as all appeared to right itself.

Afterwards initially little changed, Xiao was a gruff as ever, you were still itching to play in the practice room more. Nevertheless when you went to a concert of his for the first time and he let out a small, almost imperceptible, smile your way you knew things had changed. They would keep changing perhaps, or maybe they wouldn’t. After all, this moment was beautiful.

So much that you didn’t even mind the hours spent waiting for the practice room.

#genshin impact #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #xiao x reader #genshin albedo #genshin kazuha #genshin xiao #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #my writing #scenarios

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