#and now hollywood has been added

[aryomengrande]

did my best to design a new hideout for kaku now that i have two of him ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) it ain't much but it's sth...

also i have never gathered this much diamonds and money lol still got was what supposed to be for keroppi!baji but sanrio event didn't air in puzzreve (;´༎ຶ ۝ ༎ຶ ) last one on my list for this year is feather!sanzu...guess bro is secured

puzzreve ID : d3ynh5tgamcq

[mariocki]

Robert Shaw acts as the Pimpernel's loyal right hand man, Lord Anthony Dewhurst, in The Adventures of the Scarlet Pimpernel: The Hostage (1.1, ITP, 1955)

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[blindmagdalena]

All of a Sudden, There You Are

3k. homelander x gn!reader. pining. pure fluff! an older fic that desperately needed cleaning up. rewritten for a consistent perspective and added 600-some words. gif credit. AO3 link.

As Homelander's stylist, it's your job to ensure he looks his best, whether he's saving the world or saving face in front of the cameras. After nearly a year servicing him, things between you change abruptly.

Familiarity and consistency feed a base need in all of us. So much of what is best in us is bound up in the permanence of those around us that it becomes the measure of our stability. For Homelander, there are precious few things in his life that offer him any such quality of solidarity. People come and go. It's the nature of the business that has always been his life.

He's stopped paying attention to the PA's, interns and other worker ants that rotate in and out. Their faces blend together in a bland sea of normality and mediocrity. They're little more than cogs in the machine of his contrastingly extraordinary life.

Funny, then, that you should catch his attention amidst the insectoid buzz of it all.

It happens quite abruptly. He's just sat down before a brightly lit vanity where it's your job to style his hair and makeup, as it has been for the last several months. You greet him good morning, as you do every time, but for whatever reason... He notices you today.

"Remind me, what's your name again?" Homelander asks, watching you draw a comb from your kit.

That visibly catches you off guard. You offer only a dumbfounded stare for a moment before snapping to attention, smiling sheepishly as you introduce yourself. The name doesn't sound familiar to him. Had he never actually asked? Probably not. There’s rarely a point in bothering.

He hums contemplatively. "You've been styling me for a while.”

"Yes, sir. About eight months now," you say, using the comb to begin working product through his hair. He’s fairly certain this is the most he's ever spoken to you in all that time.

That sounds like both a long while and yet no time at all. It's nothing in the grand scheme of his life, but in terms of the people he sees consistently, that puts you in a shockingly small pool of individuals. Inevitably they move on, whether by choice or because they’ve found a way to irritate him enough that he has them dismissed.

He can recall his last stylist not by their name or face, but by the way they’d always manage to spray product in his eyes. They hadn’t lasted two days. The one before that he can’t bring to mind a single detail of.

Typically humans only become exceptional to him for how they grate on his patience. You’ve somehow managed to avoid making yourself noteworthy in that regard. Before today you had served as little more than a properly functioning gear in the well-oiled machine of his life.

Now it's as though you suddenly exist to him. Blood, flesh, laughter and all.

"Gooood morning," he greets you the next day, once again triggering another flare of surprise in you. He’s aware of the strangeness of his initiation, but behaves as though he isn’t. He flashes you one of his trademark Hollywood grins.

"Good morning to you, sir," you say with an answering smile that catches his eye. You sound pleased, which tickles something pleasant in the back of his own mind. He likes how well you’re mirroring his shift in mannerism.

He waves his hand dismissively. "Please, Homelander is fine. You keep it awfully formal."

You're actually quite pretty, he notices. Not exceptionally so, not like the celebrities and figures of social influence that someone like him brushes shoulders with on a daily basis, but... pretty nonetheless. He doesn't remember you being this pretty before, and speculates while you work whether you've changed something about yourself. He cannot put his finger on what exactly that may be, though.

He’s perceptive when it comes to the things that matter. Until yesterday, you hadn’t.

You laugh sweetly, pushing your fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter shut as you do. You’re good with your hands, much better than the last stylist. He’s sure he made note of that at some point, but in the same way someone notices when a door stops squeaking. You take it for granted after the first time.

"I'm a creature of habit. Might take me a couple tries to adjust," you warn, covering his forehead with your palm as you spritz product into his hair. You never let any of that sticky crap get on his face, much less in his eyes. You take measures to ensure his comfort, even though he’s never scolded you. You seem to do it entirely out of reflex simply because you care enough to.

"Well, you've made it this far. You've got time to adjust," he says. Now that he's seen you, he finds that he doesn't care for the thought of you being gone. More than that, he starts actively looking forward to the time he spends in the chair with you. What used to be a monotonous aspect of the celebrity side of his life becomes a comforting ritual. 

The two of you chat with surprising ease, like old friends made new. He tells you about himself, vents to you about work and personal business alike. In turn he learns about you and the life you live beyond the time you share with him. It’s nothing extraordinary–not like his–but it's yours, and for some reason, that’s enough to make it interesting.

The more he grasps that you are an entire person outside of the service you provide him, the more he wants to know. He doesn’t give a fuck about your elderly cat, but he does like the way your voice changes when you talk about it. His mind drifts when you tell him these little anecdotes, and he wonders what you tell the people in your life about him. He wonders if your tone similarly changes when you do. Do you speak fondly of him? Days turn to weeks. Little by little, Homelander discerns small changes in himself. There’s a slight pep in his step these days. The sun feels a little warmer, the thrum of crowded events less irritating. His attitude towards interviews flips; even the ones he used to dread he begins to anticipate. He knows you’ll have him looking and feeling his finest. He knows that regardless of what awaits him, you’ll have something to say about it that will make it easier to smile for the cameras.

Thinking of you is sometimes all it takes.

When he has nothing on his schedule to be styled for, he sulks. On those days, he misses your laugh the most. 

He makes sure the products he keeps at home are the same as the ones you use. The smell of them reminds him of the smell of you, of your knock-off Dior perfume that fades too quickly after you apply it, which makes it just perfect for his keen sense of smell. The humble subtlety of you, your sincerity and gentleness, have become a boon against the unfeeling corporate reality of his life. On the days he does see you, he begins to miss you before he’s even left you. Now, as he walks to his next scheduled appointment with you, he’s painfully aware of the beat of his own heart. His stomach is twisting in on itself, though he isn’t hungry. If anything, he feels a little nauseous. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the cacophony inside of him becomes. Is he sick? That shouldn’t be possible, but he can’t understand what’s happening to him. Pausing just outside the door, he takes in a steadying breath.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Taking a moment to collect himself, he gives his face two quick pats on either side, shaking his head. Get it together, he tells himself, stepping into the dressing room. 

“Gooood morn–” Homelander cuts himself short, looking around the empty room. His brows pinch. He isn’t early. Pursing his lips, he takes a brief stroll about the room, clutching his hands behind his back. He peers down the hallway, cutting through the layers of wall with his vision. No sign of you on the grounds yet. He clicks his tongue. 

You’ve never been late. Unable to settle, he paces for a while. He has the thought to call you, but he realizes he doesn’t have your number. Why doesn’t he have your number? It seems such an obvious thing to have despite the fact he’s never needed it.

He’s just pulled out his cellphone to track it down from Ashley when the door suddenly opens and his head snaps up. The initial relief he feels is cut short, turning cold in his chest when the person who steps through the door is most definitely not you. “Good morning!” the woman greets him, her voice chirpy and grating in his ears. She’s not really happy to see him. She doesn’t know the first fucking thing about him. At most, she’s another sycophantic drone who’s only pleased to breathe his air. In his upset, she looks freakishly distorted, her smile overly wide and fake. His leather gloves creak as he curls his hands into fists. “Who the fuck are you?” he asks, voice as measured as he can manage it. His anger hits in an unreasonable surge, hot like lava from a volcano. This woman’s only crime is the fact she’s not you, and yet it’s enough to make him want to rip her head off her shoulders, spine and all. The woman hesitates in the doorway, her chipper demeanor flipping to a fearful one. “Uhm, my name is Lisa, I’m supposed to style you to–” “Where is my stylist?” he interrupts her, prowling towards her like a hungry predator. He says again, louder this time, voice full of anger and anxiety in equal measure, “Where the fuck is my stylist?!” “I– I don’t know!” Lisa yelps, stepping backwards from him. “I was called in as a last minute replacement! They said– they said there was an accident, or–” Homelander pushes her roughly out of the doorway, blowing past her with a frustrated growl. She hits the wall hard before crumpling to the floor like a lifeless sack of potatoes, but he doesn’t even register it. He calls Ashley, stalking down the hallway, his footfalls loud with fury. Why the fuck didn’t anyone think to tell him? “Ashley!” He snarls into his phone the second she answers. “Tell me where the fuck my goddamn stylist is.”

Homelander is at the hospital within minutes. The staff puts up a meager effort to enforce protocols, but he’s The Homelander, and after a lie or two, they eventually let him through. He hates the smell of hospitals. The sickly mix of bleach and illness, the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. They never should have brought you here. You should be in Vought’s med ward.

You should be with him. When he finds you, you’re sitting with the hospital bed halfway reclined, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. The vibrant reds and blues of his suit paint a sharp contrast to the stark white walls of the hospital room when he steps inside. You have a pudding cup in your hand, though you nearly drop it when you see him in the doorway. His hair is woefully unstyled, splayed loose in every direction from his flight. “H-Homelander,” you sputter, choking on your bite of pudding. You swallow, clearing your throat. He’s walking towards you. The closer he gets, the faster your heart beats in his ears. “What are you doing here?” “Are you okay?” He asks, blowing off your question entirely. He blinks and his vision flickers through your clothes and skin alike. He scans your body for internal damage, for broken or fractured bones. You’re not wearing a cast or anything, but he needs to be sure. You nod, clutching at the blanket, wearing your confusion plainly on your face. “Yeah, I’m okay, it’s probably just mild whiplash, but I’m getting an x-ray to be–” “You’re fine,” he breathes more to himself than to you, his relief palpable. He can hear the flustered patter of your heart clearly. With the adrenaline wearing off, he’s beginning to feel that sickly familiar feeling that he had experienced in the hallway; butterflies rampant in his stomach, battering their wings frantically inside him. His jaw feels tight, his tongue too big for his mouth. Staring at you now, frail and precious as you are in this ugly hospital bed, he realizes what’s the matter–what has always been the matter–he is deeply and incurably in love with you. “Are you okay?” You ask, taking in his tortured expression, his wildly wind-swept hair. The obvious concern in your voice and in your eyes churns his already twisting gut. “No,” he says, the response knee-jerk. Even though the room is still, he feels as though the world is spinning around him. “No, I think I’m in love with you,” he says, expression twisted up, like he’s figuring out each word as he says them. Your heart skips a beat, your breath catches in your lungs. It’s as if the words have paralyzed you. Homelander laughs. It sounds a little hysterical. 

“I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me,” he says, reaching out to cup either side of your face in his gloved hands. “I love you,” he says, voice firmer now, the realization setting in fully. He looks slightly delirious with it. He’s discovered a secret that he should have known all along, that seems so obvious in hindsight. Of course he loves you, because you love him. The gentleness in your hands as you touched his face, the care in your fingers stroking through his hair far longer than both of you knew you needed to. You dedicated yourself like no other to showing him reverence in service of him, and is that not love in its purest form? And yet, you don’t look to share his elation. You look like you’ve been struck by lightning, expression wide and bewildered. You still haven’t taken a breath. Homelander’s smile falters. “What’s the matter?” He asks, tone dropping a touch. “This is good news! Great, even.” For every second that you do not speak, the beat of his heart feels heavier in his chest. Why don’t you look happy? Finally, you suck in a shaky breath. He watches you with all the intensity of a viper poised to strike.

“I…” You hesitate. You lift your hands and grip his wrists, squeezing them through the thick fabric of his gloves as if to convince yourself that he’s really there. Maybe the accident was worse than he thought. Did you hit your head? 

Panic swells in his chest. It hadn’t occurred to him you might not reciprocate. The thought makes him ill.

“I never…” your eyes turn glassy, welling with tears. “Say it!” he wants to shout, his own heart hammering loudly enough to nearly drown out your words.  “I never would have thought–or even dreamed–in a million years that you might love me back.”

love me back.

Like a dying ember roaring back to life, Homelander’s demeanor reignites, his faded smile broadening once more. 

“I realized it when I was worried fucking sick because you didn't show up,” he says, leaning closer to you. He’s brought the scent of ozone from the sky he tore through on his way to you, but all he cares about is the faint smell of pudding lingering on your lips.

He huffs a laugh. “They sent in some idiot to fill in for you. Like they could replace you. I almost tore her head off,” he says, giddy with euphoria. Your expression shifts, brows furrowing. “Wait, what? You almost-” “I’m gonna kiss you now,” he interrupts, his voice a low rumble. He can already taste you in the breaths you’re close enough to share with him, and he’s never been hungrier for anything–or anyone–in his life. You fall silent with a shiver, nodding minutely, eyes falling shut. “Please do.” His lips meet yours in a gentle press. He deserves a medal for not crushing you with the sheer magnitude of his desire. You all but melt against him, settling into his grip as smoothly as you settled into his life, his mind, his heart. When the two of you break apart, you make a breathless noise that shoots through him like a bolt of lightning. He feels hyper aware of your every sound and move.

God, how he wants to feel every part of you. 

You move your hands to touch his face and he leans into the softness of your caress. You’ve been close enough to kiss more times than he can count. The fact it’s only now occurred to him to do so seems like lunacy. Your eyes dip to his lips, your thumb brushes the bottom one. He catches it with a quick kiss and you laugh your sweet bell-chime laughter.

Pushing your hand into his hair, the wondrous joy in your expression becomes tinged with amusement. “And people wonder why I use so much gel,” you murmur, smooth the wild splay of his hair down with both hands, cupping the back of his head. Homelander smiles wide and boyishly, which prompts you to kiss him again.

“I’m not having some kind of brain bleed hallucination right now, right?” You ask quietly, the tip of your nose lightly pressed to his. He brushes his lips against yours between words. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he purrs, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Despite the ugly fluorescent lights and the dreadful hospital stench all around, you look resplendent in your joy.

He had been right. It was love that you touched him with. It had been subtle, imbued in your every movement, and for months he had soaked it up until, unbeknownst to him, he fell into it as well.

“Trust me when I say you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on,” he says, brushing your nose with his.

Maybe instead of tearing them limb from limb, he’ll send flowers to whoever the sorry son of a bitch that rear-ended you this morning was. Who knows how much more time he would have wasted before he realized he was utterly smitten with you.

[therealcocoshady]

Hi, coco!

You could make a third part of Eminem x Young Actress Reader, where the reader accompanies him to a game in Detroit and the cameras can't stop focusing on them because Em has never been seen so smiling and affectionate with someone. For the rest you can add what you want. By the way, I love your work and I love that you write about Eminem since almost no one does.<3

Family Game

Eminem x Younger Actress Reader

Part 1 : Daddy’s Spaghetti

Part 2 : Red Carpet Appearance

AN : thank you for your request ! I hope you liked it. I added my own little twist to it 🥰

Ever since your remarked outing at the Oscars, everyone knew you and Marshall were dating, much to your delight. Sure, you would gladly do without the press coverage, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a tiny bit satisfying to have everyone know that Eminem, hip hop’s most eligible bachelor was spoken for, by yours truly, no less. After all, you were not the first (nor the last) public figure to thirst over him and it felt nice to have the “competition” know that they should back off. Especially when you were in a long distance relationship : him in Detroit, you in LA. Sure, you trusted each other and often traveled to make it work but, still, it’s easy to get jealous, especially when both parties are public figures. Marshall was well aware of your status as Hollywood’s rising star and, since he had been your crush for years, you knew for a fact that he has tons of ladies throwing themselves at him. 

In spite of the distance and a couple of jealousy episodes, the two of you managed to make your relationship work, however. Marshall frequently flew out to LA to record with Dr Dre and other artists and to visit you and, whenever you weren’t shooting a movie, you joined him in Michigan. Your relationship was now in the serious state of « we’re both hope at each other’s place ». Your living room table was full of CDs and notepads and his living room was made cozy with your favorite crystals (which he always made fun of), scented candles (which he secretly loved) and fuzzy blankets (which he stole whenever you weren’t around). The whole relationship, despite trials, felt cozy and domestic. And it was made even better by the fact that Marshall had finally managed to ease up. You tended to blame it on the good critical reception after the Oscars : as soon as the two of you had been spotted together, holding hands, Marshall happily gushing about you to the press, both your fans and his had showered you with love and showed nothing but support. Whenever you were positing, fans (most of the time, respectfully) asked about him and they seemed truly overjoyed by the relationship. From what you gathered in the social media comments, they were also dying for the two of you to be spotted together again. Marshall was pretty much an hermit and not the kind to go out and about when he knew he might be spotted but, on one occasion, he had to oblige the fans. 

His beloved Detroit Lions were playing your Los Angeles Rams at Detroit’s Ford Field Stadium and there was no way in hell you would miss the occasion to attend. Knowing how protective of your relationship he could be, you made plans to attend on your own, with a couple of friends who would fly in for the occasion, but Marshall surprised you by actually requesting your presence. 

Don’t you want to go with me ? He asked. 

You mean… on a date ? You clarified. 

I mean there would be other people around, like family, friends and shit but we could be together, he said with a smile. 

You mean you would agree to being spotted with me ?! You asked jokingly. You know I wouldn’t be caught dead in Lions apparel ! 

What I mean is that I’d be proud to hold your hand, even if you’re wearing that stupid Rams hoodie, he grinned. 

Ok, you giggled. As long as I’m not forced to cheer for your team ! 

You ended up attending the event in a private suite with a lot of other people. Of course, his children were in attendance, as well as a couple of D12 friends. You had met everyone previously. A couple of months into the relationship, Marshall had organized a dinner for you to officially meet his daughters and everything had gone smoothly. You absolutely loved them, and same went for the friends he had introduced to you on different occasions. At the game, you were also joined by a couple of your friends, that you not so secretly planned on setting up with some of his. In your mind, there was no doubt that Alicia and Porter were meant to be and the Game seemed like the perfect occasion. It was joyful and everyone was really happy to be here. You were donning your favorite Rams apparel, much to Marshall’s dismay, but that didn’t prevent him from casually holding your hand. 

For how much would you wear Lions apparel ? Your friend jokingly asked. 

Nobody in this room can afford it, you replied with a grin. 

Oh really ? Marshall asked with a smirk. 

How about if you guys get married ? Porter asked. Would you be willing to support the Lions ? 

That would require a HUGE rock, you giggled. But yeah, sure, if we ever get married, I’ll wear Lions gear for all games, except the ones against the Rams. 

Your friends erupted in « oooohs » and « aaaahs ». The rivalry between your two teams was enough to fuel a dozen of conversations but, other than that, everyone around you had to agree that you were kind of the perfect couple. Your best friends always pointed out that Marshall was good at keeping you grounded and reminding you of the things that mattered - besides all the LA glitz and glamour - and Marshall’s circle seemed happy that you encouraged him to go out of his comfort zone. 

He was usually stressed out whenever there were tons of cameras around. It was unsettling to you, at first, because it was part of the job, but as your relationship progressed and he came with you to some events, he seemed to ease up. Still, he wasn’t big on public displays of affection, but you didn’t mind. You enjoyed his company nonetheless and you didn’t need him to kiss you in public or even hold your hand to be happy to be with him. In settings like football games, though, he was himself - the man you knew and loved in everyday life. He could be seen clapping, shouting, cheering… a far cry from the stoic face he arbored on red carpets and magazine covers. And you absolutely loved to see him enjoy himself and have fun. You were enamored with his smile and happy demeanor and you didn’t care too much about the 60 000 other people, you only had eyes for him. Obviously, though, as a Detroit native and global superstar, he was one of the centres of attention when Lose Yourself started playing before the game and everyone started singing/rapping along to the lyrics. Everyone in your group watched Marshall, who was definitely in a good mood. So were you, to be honest, and you couldn’t help but rap along, this song being one of your favorites ever. As the song ended, you could see Marshall sitting right next to you, trying not to laugh. 

You’re adorable, he chuckled. 

What ? You asked with a giggle. It’s the ultimate stadium song ! And my boyfriend is the one who wrote it !!! 

I love you, he simply said before cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss on your lips. 

That was the last tender moment the two of you shared before the end of the game. When your two favorite teams played each other, there was no romantic involvement anymore. It was all betting, taunting and calling each other names. For the first two quarters, the Rams seemed to dominate, which you gladly shoved in your boyfriend’s face, but when the Lions ended up winning, you knew you wouldn’t hear the end of it. Despite it all, and in spite of you being a sore loser, Marshall behaved like the perfect boyfriend and pecked you on the cheek, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you exited your suite. His team winning always put him in a celebratory mood and he was more affectionate than usual, not giving a damn what people would see or think. He even went so far as to kiss your lips. 

Of course, in the following hours, the Internet went absolutely crazy over the pictures of the two of you at the stadium. While some accounts were raving about your outfit (because you did put some effort into making that Sports apparel work !), most of them were gushing about Marshall’s display of affection and how in love the two of you looked. 

« Look at his smile 🥰 » commented one, or « Look how in love he looks when she’s rapping his song 😭❤️ » were a few of the comments you could see under the videos of the event. It was extremely cute and, in moments like these, you felt like the luckiest woman on earth. However, a swarm of other comments started to appear, focusing on… Marshall’s daughters. The three of them were sitting on the row just behind you and they could be seen laughing at your nonexistent rapping skills (all fair, really) and mocking their father’s display of affection. You didn’t take offense at all - you’d been there yourself and you knew how icky it could feel, seeing your parent being affectionate with someone in public, but the press and social media accounts seemed to turn it into a family feud. If the headlines were to be believed, neither Alaina, Stevie or Hailie approved of the relationship and thought you were too young for Marshall. They apparently despised you and saw you as the most evil and wicked stepmother who was more than likely after their Dad’s fortune. Of course, reality couldn’t be further from the truth. Whenever you were in Detroit, you spent a great deal of time with Marshall’s daughters and you considered as friends. So much so that you even made plans of your own, that did not include him. It wasn’t rare for the four of you to have dinner or go shopping. On occasion, they even visited you in California and you soon planned to go on a girls’ trip in Morocco. So, when Hailie showed you the headline on your phone, everyone burst out laughing. 

« Evil stepmother », Stevie chortled. That’s hilarious. 

Is that because of the face you made, Hailie ? When Y/N was rapping ? Alaina chimed in. 

I was making a face because they were corny ! She laughed. Look at Dad’s face on the video. He’s all cute and lovey dovey. Of course I wanted to puke ! 

Marshall rolled his eyes. He was no stranger to his kids making fun of how in love with you he was but, honestly, he didn’t care. For the first time in forever, he was happy and thriving in a relationship. A healthy one, at that. Whenever you were around, he could barely contain his joy and good mood and he often thought he would do anything to make you smile. He hated public attention but he simply loved showing you off and enjoying life with you. However, he had to admit he was a little annoyed by the comments involving your relationship with his daughters. He knew there was no truth to it whatsoever but that didn’t make it less annoying. First of all, he hated seeing his kids’ names in the media, especially if it was negative and, secondly, he hated the idea of lies involving all of you, the people he loved the most on this earth. However, the four of you were grown women and he knew better than to say something so he figured it would be best to wait for it to die down. 

Unfortunately, though, the rumors did not die down and the whole thing got blown out of proportion. It wasn’t only on social media : press and other media outlets got ahold of the story and even dug up some obscure social media posts and took them out of context. They really made it seem like there was hatred between the girls and you were a mean gold-digger who wanted to estrange Marshall from his children. Nothing could be further for the truth though, and you even celebrated the holidays together. After years spent in the public eye, you tried not to let it get to you but it was hard. Even if some of your past relationships had been publicized, this one was on a whole other level and you had a hard time dealing with the scrutiny. Especially when some people were starting to wish for the end of your career with comments like « What a b****. Hope no one casts her ever again 🙄 » or « Hope she enjoys her Oscar because she won’t last much longer in Hollywood 💀 ». You tried not to let your feelings show. Marshall was already annoyed and you didn’t want things to get worse. After all, you knew how overprotective he could get over the people he loved. 

A few weeks went by and the attention seemed to die down around the holidays. You had been with Marshall for a year and a half and it was your first time celebrating together. You would spend the days leading up to Christmas in Michigan, go back to your family in California for the holidays and then jet off to a private Island lent by a friend for some vacation time just the two of you. Marshall would even join you in LA to spend some time with your family who was definitely approving of him. They absolutely adored him and considered him a part of the family. 

In the week leading up to Christmas, you were on Christmas tree decoration duty with the girls while Marshall was letting you do your thing. Hailie had come up with some ornaments as merch for her podcast and you thought it would be cute and funny to take a selfie with one of them that said « Shady or Nice ». You posted it to your Instagram account with some cheesy caption and didn’t pay it too much attention. When you checked the comments, a day or so later, you were surprised at the reaction. What you thought would be a cute nod to your boyfriend and his daughter’s podcast ended up in a shitstorm, with people basically accusing you on sucking up to Hailie to get to Marshall. In their mind, you were a master manipulator. Of course, these were just a bunch of people commenting and the rest seemed rather supportive and happy to see you acknowledging your relationship, something you rarely did on your social media account. Still, you were a little bugged off when you went to bed. 

What’s up, babygirl ? Marshall asked as he laid next to you. 

Nothing, you shrugged. Just these mean trolls. 

What are they saying now ? 

That your daughters hate me, you summed up. And that I’m trying to suck up to them. 

That’s stupid, he scoffed. The girls love you and you know it. 

And I love them too, you know ? You replied. But I don’t know… I don’t like people getting the wrong idea. And I see people commenting about me in their posts and it breaks my heart. 

It’s not your fault, he said before kissing your forehead. Let’s not think about that, ok ? Just focus on the holidays and the great time we’re going to have. 

I’m going to miss you for Christmas, you pointed out. 

Three days, he chuckled. And then I’m joining you in California. And after that… you, me, a private island and your tiniest bikinis. 

You nuzzled his neck and enjoyed the warmth of his embrace, making you forget all of your worries. The next day, you were set to hop on the jet to go back to California and enjoy some family time with your brother and your parents. Before that, you enjoyed one last brunch at Marshall’s place, with his daughters. Hailie got everyone matching ugly Christmas sweaters and you were absolutely moved that she got one for you. You took corny pictures in front of the Christmas tree posing with your boyfriend’s daughters while he was rolling his eyes at your dumb poses. You even got Marshall to pose with you. He wasn’t big on taking pictures but he knew how important these were for you and the girls so he obliged with a smile on his face. A few hours later, you were on the jet, scrolling social media and noticed that Alaina had posted the picture of you, her and her sisters in front of the Christmas Tree with the caption : « Happy holidays from our FAMILY to yours 💕 ». You thought it was the sweetest thing ever that she considered you as family. Of course, trolls were still in the comments, but you tried to stay positive. A few hours later, Hailie updated her last podcast episode of the year, with Stevie as guest. 

So, before we begin this episode, we wanted to address something, she began. 

Family matters, Stevie specified. 

Right, Hailie nodded. You guys have been commenting a lot on last episode’s video and on my Instagram account…

All our accounts, her sister corrected.

Yes. Everyone’s account. It seems like Internet is going crazy about a certain video that was taken at the last Lions Game, so I thought… we thought we should clear things up, Hailie said. I understand that there are always going to be rumors about our family, and we can’t help it at this point, but it’s the Holidays and I don’t my mood to be ruined by negative attention and lies. So… Stevie, do you want to comment on the video ? 

Basically, we were at the game, enjoying some family time and people filmed our reaction to Y/N… our Dad’s girlfriend, rapping Lose Yourself, Stevie explained. And kissing afterwards. And what really sparked the whole thing is the face Hailie made. 

Yeah, I pretended to puke, Hailie giggled. And no, guys, it’s not because I hate Y/N or anything like that, it’s just… we’re a normal family, guys. Whenever you see your parents being cheesy and corny, you want to puke, right ? 

Right, Stevie giggled. So, let’s not dwell on this but for the record : we love Y/N and she is not what people make her to be. We see her as family, you know ? 

Yes ! It’s the Holidays, it’s a family time and we all know I love Shady stories but… nothing Shady here. It’s all love, Hailie chuckled. 

Too much love, Stevie joked. 

This warmed your heart even more. The girls absolutely didn’t have to jump to your defense but the fact that they did warmed your heart and you couldn’t wait to spend some time with them again. You sent texts to thank them and wished them happy holidays, saying you were looking forward to seeing them soon. You also texted your boyfriend, telling him how amazing his kids were and that you loved him and his family. 

MARSHALL’S POV 

Marshall was eating dinner with his daughters when he got a text from Y/N that immediately put a smile on his face. 

You girls are amazing, he said with a smile. 

No idea what you’re talking about, Alaina said with feigned innocence. 

I think you do, he replied with a grin. Seriously, you didn’t have to do that but… thank you. It means a lot to me. 

We weren’t going to let people think we hate her, Stevie said.

Not when she is actually about to become our stepmother, Hailie said with a smirk. 

Marshall immediately let his fork fall on his plate, a look of surprise on his face. 

I… erm… wanted to talk to you about it first, he said. How do you even know… ? 

I found the ring sketches in your office last time I went there, Stevie said. I was searching for one of your old CDs. 

And you had to go yapping to your sisters about that ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Are you really going to propose ? Hailie said with excitement. 

I mean… I’ve been thinking about it, yeah, he admitted. I wanted to make sure you girls were ok with it first but, if that’s fine with you, I’d like to propose to her over the holidays. 

The girls erupted in cheers and immediately gave their blessings, commenting on how they never thought this day would come. Of course, they quizzed him about his plans. 

Were spending a couple of days with her family before going on vacation for NYE, so I was planning on asking for her father’s blessing, he explained. 

Isn’t he like… almost your age, though ? Stevie chuckled. 

It’s a matter of respect, he shrugged. I appreciated when Matt and Evan asked for my blessing so I thought I’d do the same. Can’t hurt to have your future father-in-law on your side. 

And… as for the proposal ? Alaina asked. 

I know it’s not super original but I was thinking of doing it on the private island, over a nice dinner on the beach, at sunset or something like that, he said. 

It’s so cute ! Alaina said. I love it. 

I think my Dad’s gone corny, Hailie joked. 

You think it’s corny ? He asked with his eyebrows furrowed. 

Oh definitely. But she’s just as corny so she is going to love it ! 

One question though, Stevie said. If you guys get married, she’ll move to Detroit, right ? 

That’s sort of the plan, yeah, Marshall said. She’d move for work quite a bit, depending on where movies are shot, but she’d live with me. Why ? 

So… she’d have to turn into a Lions fan eventually, right ? 

I’m counting on it, he said with a smirk. 

Is that why you’re proposing ? Alaina joked. 

Maybe, he chuckled. I swear to God, I’m putting a ban on Rams apparel in the prenup. 

[malavera]

Good Girl (18+) — Hugh Jackman One shot

summary: hugh sent you this picture of him and warned you to be ready when he gets back to you.

warning: SMUT! MDNI. Basically filthy sex, unprotected, porn with no plot, pet name 'kitten', calling hugh papi, don’t cum inside guys.

check out my other works here!

‘Yeah? What am i supposed to do with this information, hey?’ You giggled as you typed your text before pressing send.

‘i just wanted to say i’m not going to apologize for what is there to become of me tonight.’ Hugh replied in a matter of minutes. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, you wouldn’t be seeing him until 3 days, at least that’s what you knew.

‘wdym?’ you typed back and when it showed delivered, a knock landed on your door surprising you in your seat. You hurried yourself off towards your door, and when you opened it, it revealed the current obsession of yours; Hugh Jackman, your 5-months-low-profile-boyfriend.

You gasped, “What are you doing here?! I thought you weren’t supposed to be in New York until the 3 days!” You squealed jumping to engulf him with a hug. Hugh laughs seeing your adorable reaction while entering the cozy space of your apartment, kicking the door shut with his feet.

“Well, I’m here now aren’t I, kitten?” You blushed from hearing the pet name he loves to call you slipped from his lips. You bit your lip trying to suppress a smile before crashing them against his. Hugh hummed and sighed in content, dropping his duffle bag on the ground. His arms wrapped around your petite body while yours trying to pull him close, your toes tip toeing on the floor.

"Now, you wanna show me what you just sent me, papi?" You lowly spoke against his lips once you broke away from the kiss. Hugh stared at you, humming and pursing his lips.

"Do you think you deserve it?" He spoke before kissing you again, turning both of you around as he pushed you gently against the wall. His lips pulled away from yours to move down to ravish the delicate skin of your neck. You softly moaned when you felt his warm tongue nibbling against it, eyes rolling back to the back of your head. "Have you been a good girl while I was away, kitten?"

"Mmmh... Yes, papi. I have." You pouted slightly, hugging him.

"Hmm yeah? 's that so?"

"Yeah," you pouted when he broke contact with your neck as he looked down at you grinning. "Please..."

"Well, in that case, you deserve it then." You gasped when your feet have lifted off the ground and by instinct, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carry you through your shared bedroom. Hugh softly plopped you down on your cushion before you propped yourself up with your elbows to look at him with an excited grin.

Hugh smirked, shifted his head side to side while tutting at you. You watched as both of his hands went to grab the hem of his shirt as they pull it upwards to discard the material off his body. Your lips went agape slightly, you still couldn't believe it. Dating the famous Hollywood actor, who is 55 years old, and has the body of a Hercules? You really want to thank god for, other than his genes, his dedication and passion to work on his body.

"What do you think, baby?" Hugh said with a Cheshire smile, flexing his abs, tilting his body slightly to show his work of art. You bit your lip, suppressing a smile, your head nodding away for approval. "Yeah?" He added, you didn't say anything instead you rub your thighs against each other, feeling yourself pooling your panties.

Hugh laughs at you before he put one knee on the bed and dive himself down to you, pushing you to lay against the bed. "Cat really got your tongue huh, kitten?" You hummed in approval before crashing your lips to him. Hugh pressed himself against you, grinding his clothed cock against your clothed cunt. You moaned, feeling the big bulge rubbing softly against your heat, couldn't wait to feel his thick and heavy cock inside you.

Hugh broke the kiss on your lips to kiss your neck, he knows how much you love neck kisses and he'd be honored to rain you with lots of kisses. You moaned even more when you felt him nip your delicate skin with his teeth, your legs spread wider to welcome him as he ground his hips more against you, dry humping you at this point.

"Hmm, papi, please..." You pleaded, you gasped in surprised when his hand reached down inside your panties, gliding against your slicked pussy, gathering your arousal with his fingers. Hugh pulled away from your neck and lay his forehead against yours, his eyebrows pulled together, eyes staring down at you.

"I know, kitten, I know, let me play with your cunt a little, yeah?" He coo'ed. You gasped, eyebrows furrowing once you feel him push his index finger inside your throbbing cunt. "So wet for me, kitten. Tsk, tsk." Hugh tutted, thrusting his finger inside you slowly.

"Can you take another one?" Apparently that was a rhetorical question as you were about to provide him an answer, he pushed his middle finger inside you earning a loud moan from your agape lips. He laughed under his breath, watching you fall apart just by his 2 slender fingers curling and flicking inside of you.

"Fuck, papi, so good... So good... Don't stop." You moaned, closing your eyes as Hugh looks down to watch himself work on you.

"Oh, I'm not gonna stop kitten, never. Come on, spread your legs wider." You obeyed to his command, watching him straighten himself away from you. His free hand went to rip your panties off, shredding the fabric. You gasped as your face contorted into disbelief and were about to protest before he beat you to it,

"I'll buy you new ones, kitten. Don't worry, I got you." He breathed, watching his fingers working on your pussy as you let out a loud moan. Hugh can tell when you're nearing your edge, and as you were about to reach it, he pulled his fingers out of your cunt as your body jolted in surprised.

"Hugh!" You protested, but he was too busy getting his shorts off. "Wait!" You yelped, twisting your body to the side trying to reach your nightstand to find a condom, but there were none. "We don't have a condom!" You shrieked.

Hugh pulled you by your thighs, before grabbing the hem of your shirt discarding them off your body, revealing your full-rounded breast. He climbed himself on top of you, his throbbing cock rubbing against your glistening pussy. One hand on top of your breast, kneading them and giving your nipple a play with his thumb, the other is holding on his cock, rubbing the tip against your pussy.

"I need to be inside you now, kitten." Hugh panted, you moaned looking down to his hand on his cock. He gave himself a couple of pumps before guiding himself to sink into your tight hole. Hugh grunted from your tense pussy, choking just a half of his cock as he attempted to get into you. He swatted your thighs as he grunted, "Baby, relax for me, let me get my cock into this pussy, come on." You whimpered, closing your eyes as you tried to relax.

Once he got himself all the way in, you both moaned in sync. Hugh kept his gaze on your pussy, watching his cock, slowly thrusts in and out of you but not completely pulling himself out. When he recognized your pleasurable moan, he knew you've adjusted to his size and that's when he started to increase his pace. Taking off his gaze from your pussy, to your face. Both of his hands groping your tits as his hips snapped back and forth.

"Ngh... Baby, so good. You're so big." You faintly moaned the last sentence.

Hugh grunted, "Pussy so good, like it's made for me." You moaned at his filthy words. "Such a good girl... Taking me so well, kitten. Who's a good girl?" Hugh leaned forward, connecting his forehead against yours, cooing at you.

"M-me.."

"That's right, baby. My good girl, tell me how much you love my cock?"

"Love it so m-much, baby."

"Yeah?"

"Yes! Oh so good, papi. Love your big cock so much in my pussy." You sob out a moan, closing your eyes shut.

"I know, baby, I know." His free hand went down to reach your clit before his thumb starts playing with it. The action drove you crazier, moaning even more out loud as you feel yourself reaching your edge.

"Hugh, I'm- I'm- I wanna cum." You cried.

"Do it, kitten. Cum on my cock, come on, make a mess for me, yeah like that huh?" He whispered against your lips before he crashed them against yours. You shrieked against his lips, as you felt your thighs shake before creaming down on his cock. Hugh moaned against your lips, feeling your orgasm on his cock, as he increased his pace even more to reach for his high.

"Mmmh, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum so much, kitten. Pussy so good." Hugh grunted as you moaned, watching him rolling his eyes to the back of his head. His hand went to wrap around your neck, as you moan to the action.

"Yeah, papi? Cum for me. But PLEASE DON'T CUM IN ME!" You shrieked.

"Fuck, can't pull out, pussy's too good." Hugh grumbled, hand around your neck went tighter.

"Hugh!!" You shrieked, as he roared before forcefully pulling his cock out of your pussy and give himself a couple of pumps before shooting out strings of his hot cum on your belly.

You sighed in relief, you love and adore the man, but you weren't ready to be a momma just yet.

if you enjoyed this one do give a reblog, a like, and buy me a coffee ;)

[lovecanyon]

MIKE FAIST X Y/N: A SOCIAL MEDIA AU

part one

➙ y/n works under A24 as a production assistant. she’s worked on films such as Pearl, X, Lady Bird, Hereditary and most recently Challengers where she met her partner Mike Faist.

(A24 didn’t produce Challengers but in this situation they did)

-

TMZ

Mike Faist Spotted in Los Angeles with Mystery Girl: Fans Buzz Over Actor’s New Romance

Mike Faist, the breakout star from "Challengers," was recently seen in Los Angeles with an unidentified woman, sparking a flurry of speculation among his fans. The actor appeared relaxed and happy as he enjoyed a casual outing.

As photos of the pair began circulating online, Faist's fans took to social media, attempting to uncover the identity of the girl who has seemingly captured the heart of the beloved star. Twitter and Instagram were lit with theories, with some fans speculating that she might be a fellow actor or someone from Faist’s inner circle. Despite their best detective efforts, no concrete information has surfaced about the mystery girl.

READ MORE!

PEOPLE MAGAZINE

Mike Faist and Mystery Girl Rumored to Be Dating. Sources Say the Pair Is Going Strong

Hollywood’s latest heartthrob, Mike Faist, has set the rumor mill abuzz after multiple sightings with a mystery woman in Los Angeles. Sources close to the actor reveal that the pair is indeed dating and have been going strong for a while now, much to the delight, and curiosity, of Faist’s dedicated fans.

The couple was first spotted a few weeks ago, enjoying a casual day out in L.A., sparking speculation about their relationship status.

An insider close to Faist confirmed to People, “Mike and his girlfriend have been together for a few months now. They’ve been keeping things low-key but are definitely very happy. She’s been a great support for him, especially with all the attention from his recent success.”

The insider added, “Mike is very protective of his personal life, but he’s also really happy right now. Those close to him can see how much this relationship means to him.”

READ MORE!

liked by faistfan12, user68 and 10,109

faistupdates Mike Faist in Los Angeles last night!

view all comments

faistfan45 who’s that girl???

user202 we can barley see him 😭😭 was this taken on a microwave

user30 give mike some privacy omg

faistfan112 that man hates the paparazzi leave him aloneeee

faistfan40 i think he’s with his girlfriend

TWITTER:

💫 mike faist (future oscar winner) - @faistfever

omg…tell me why my sister just saw mike and his girlfriend 😭😭

1:53 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

↳ sammy <3 - @ooconnorstar

ARE U LYING??? HELLOOO

1:54 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

↳ 💫 mike faist (future tony winner) - @faistfever

NO. THEY WERE LITERALLY AT A CAFE TOGETHER. LOOKKK

[photo of mike & y/n holding hands at a cafe]

1:57 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

↳ sammy <3 - @ooconnorstar

I PLANNED THIS!!! MIKE’S BOYFRIEND ERA

[olivia wilde nodding gif]

1:58 PM 6/4/2024 From Earth

liked by user178, faistfan44 and 15,920 others

pagesix Mike Faist and his rumored girlfriend were seen in Los Angeles yesterday having lunch together. Sources tell us that they could not stop staring at each other and kept holding hands across their table.

view all comments

faistfan78 MIKE IS IN HIS BOYFRIEND ERA OMFG

user116 my man who doesn’t know he’s my man is TAKEN??!! 😟

faistfan51 that’s literally me? what are you talking about?

user26 SHE IS SO LUCKY, WHOEVER SHE IS

faistfan99 i think she worked on the set of challengers with mike? i might be wrong idk

liked by faistfan66, faistfan143 and 102,110 others

deuxmoi DeuxMoi Exclusive: The Truth Behind Mike Faist and Y/N L/N’s Love Story Unveiled!

We’ve got the inside scoop on Hollywood's newest power couple! Sources have spilled the beans that Mike Faist, the star of "Challengers," and the mystery girl who has been revealed as Y/N L/N, a production assistant under A24, are officially an item. But wait, it gets even juicier!

Y/N, whose impressive resume includes work on several A24 hits like “Pearl,” “X,” and “Lady Bird,” first crossed paths with Mike on the set of “Challengers.” It was he who reportedly made the bold first move, sparking what would soon blossom into a full blown romance.

While both have maintained a level of privacy when it comes to their personal lives, insiders insist that Mike and Y/N are in it for the long haul.

view all comments

faistfan63 leave this poor girl alone

user21 HER AND MIKE MAKE SUCH A CUTE COUPLE

fan112 he could do better tbh

faistfan87 you are insane and crazy

user73 i hope none of his fans attack her now…

faistfan125 y/n is drop dead gorgeous 😭

user104 ohhh she’s so successful omggg

DEUXMOI - 6/5/2024

Sent via form submission from Deuxmoi

Pseudonyms, please: ANON

Email: somethingaboutfaist@deuxmoi.com

Subject: A24’s Iconic Couple

Message: Fans have been dying to know whose Mike’s mystery girl is and now we know! Y/N has worked on some major A24 hits like "Pearl," "Hereditary," and "Lady Bird." Looks like Mike was the one who made the first move and they've been inseparable ever since.

DEUXMOI - 6/8/2024 - SPOTTED

Saw Mike and his girlfriend at a pilates class today! He is definitely in love with her, they kept laughing and grinning at each other. He also gave her his sweater after the class!!

TIKTOK:

faistangels: she is so gorgeous, i am blown away 😭😭

comments:

joshofaist i don’t know if i need mike or her

7.1K likes

artsdonaldsins AND SHE WAS A THEATRE KID…MIKE REALLY FOUND HIS MATCH 🙏🙏

6.5K likes

dayaconnor y/n is so cool omg

6.2K likes

mikesendaya i will defend her with my heart

5.9K likes

liked by faistfan89, user106 and 10,729 others

mikefaistdaily A new photo resurfaced of Mike Faist’s girlfriend Y/N wearing a ‘I Told Ya’ shirt from the film Challengers.

view all comments

user53 OMGG she is so gorgeous

faistfan12 fans literally leaked her instagram photos. pls take this down.

faistfan62 people need to leave her alone, she’s just trying to live…

user73 y/n is so iconic goodbye

faistfan206 “resurfaced” or leaked??

user122 SHE IS THE MOMENT 💅

liked by user12, faistfan57 and 12,120 others

m.faistnews NEW/OLD! Mike on the set of Challengers! via yourinstagram

view all comments

user88 SOMEONE SEDATE ME

faistfan102 just imagine all the other pics of mike y/n has in her phone 😭😭

user106 DON’T LET ME THINK OF THAT

user29 y/n is really living that dream life

faistfan101 wanna be her so bad

user33 she’s just riding on mike’s fame…

faistfan64 girl be serious 🙄🙄

liked by user165, faistfan78 and 8,401 others

faistojosh Y/N has removed followers after her photos on Instagram got leaked!

view all comments

user60 please leave this girl alone…we don’t know her

faistfan66 i’m sorry but y/n leaving dailyfaist as one of her followers has me 😭😭

dailyfaist THAT’S BESTIE!! me and her are like this 🤞

faistfan153 i just know mike knows your account exists!!

dailyfaist I NEED A CIGARETTE

user121 posting this is just bringing more attention to it…

(1/10)

liked by treaclychild, hunterschafer and 402,763 others

rachelzegler it’s hot girl summer

view all comments

faistfan15 RACHEL AND Y/N KNOW EACH OTHER??!

faistfan132 mike probably introduced them omgg

arianadebose Literally the love of my life 🩷

user101 attention seekingggg

ayoedebiri I love women!!!

faistfan212 y/n literally wants approval from all of mike’s friends 😭

rachelzegler mike would absolutely hate you btw!!! get a life

faistfan170 RACHEL DEFENDING Y/N 🙏🙏 I LOVE TO SEE IT

liked by faistfan53, user202 and 16,091 others

mike.faistnews Y/N’s IG post about Mike’s first Met Gala! 🤍

view all comments

user107 SOMEONE KILL ME PLS THIS IS NOT OKAY

faistfan66 baby’s first met 😭😭😭

faistfan117 is this why mike didn’t go to the after party…y/n was back at the hotel so he skipped the party to hang out with her…😩

user61 he is so obsessed with her

faistfan133 every mike faist fan was found dead

user99 they are so adorable

faistfan145 the way this post was not meant to see the light of day

liked by rachelzegler, hunterschafer and 151 others

yourinstagram mikey ♑️

view all comments

daisyedgarjones You two are the cutest

arianadebose I LOVE YOU GUYSS 🤍🤍🤍

yourinstagram we love you ari!

rachelzegler you guys are seriously my parents

joshographee Looks like he died.

yourinstagram that’s what he said lol

tomholland2013 Me and Z say hiii!!

TWITTER:

lea 🎾 - @mmfaistss

y/n met his family omg

[fan photo of y/n with his family out having dinner in ohio]

6:01 PM 6/11/24 From Earth

↳ 💫 mike faist (future oscar winner) - @faistfever

god i hope so. FUTURE Y/N FAIST

6:10 PM 6/11/24 From Earth

---

gossip girl - @ggirltea

Deuxmoi said Mike has Y/N as his lockscreen 😍

[fan photo of mike’s phone lockscreen]

7:20 PM 6/12/24 From Earth

↳ film junkie - @moviemadnessss

they’re seriously the cutest.

7:25 PM 6/12/24 From Earth

---

blind item sleuth - @blindsolvers

Deuxmoi hinted at Y/N and Mike buying a house in Ohio together soon 👀 they are taking things real serious!

8:00 PM 6/14/24 From Earth

↳ drama queen - @dramaalertts

omg if it’s true i will cry! they’re perfect for each other!

8:05 PM 6/14/24 From Earth

---

pop culture guru - @popculturedailyss

UPDATE: Y/N and Mike seen holding hands in Los Angeles again today

[paparazzi photo of Y/N and Mike]

9:15 PM 6/15/24 From Earth

↳ fan girl - @fangirlss4ev

I’m here for the Mike and Y/N romance era!!!!

9:25 PM 6/15/24 From Earth

---

hollywood whisperer - @hollywoodwhisp

DM confirmed Mike Faist met Y/N’s family last weekend 💕

[family photo of Mike and Y/N]

10:00 PM 6/16/24 From Earth

↳ star gazer - @stargazingfan

meeting the family already?! this is definitely getting serious 😭😭

10:05 PM 6/16/24 From Earth

↳ celebrity updates - @celebritybuzz

they’re totally endgame!!!! future Mr. and Mrs. Faist!

10:10 PM 6/16/24 From Earth

---

tag list: @harrysmatcha @harryspinkpillow @helen-with-an-a @florencepughily @peterparkerbae @toji-dabi-wife @fallonx @drphilssoulmate @cherriesrae @alienorknight @valluvsu @ayeshathestyles @hazgoldenstyles @tsukishimawhore @renatavieira @michellekstyles @eleanordaisy @shawnsblue @agustdpeach @whoscamila @ch3rryrry @msolbesg @youusunshineyoutemptress @cherryfragrancx @milkiane @golden-hoax @sunshinemendes8 @your--sweetest--downfall @melllinaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stellarossii @scenesofobx @manifestrry @lomlolivia @honethatty12

[eddiesxangel]

WILDFLOWER| Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Pop!Princess reader

Summary: Eddie has been out of the limelight for years; raising his daughter, Violet Rose, has been his entire world. He will do anything and everything for his little girl, so when the opportunity to see her favourite pop star when she comes to town, he can’t resist. However, it might not all be just for his daughter…

WC 37.2k

AN: I originally submitted this as an ask to @ceriseheaven and she added to the idea that it’s a fake dating scenario so I have to give her credit for it 🤗 I didn’t think it would ever develop into this but I spent so much time in it so thank you to whoever takes the time to read it 🫡🙏🏻😊

CW: NSFW 18+ ONLY MDNI. Modern day AU, non vecna/non upside down, single!dad/rockstar!Eddie, age gap romance, fake dating, fem Afab reader she/her pronouns, Angst, Fluff, SMUT and a lot of it, read with caution. Soft Dom Eddie x Sub reader, cheating(readers past), self-doubt, anxiety, language, parental abandonment, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug consumption, bad past relationships, no use of y/n, Eddie refers to the reader with pet names. I tried really hard to be conscious about not having any physical descriptions of the reader other than that they are girly and AFAB. The nameless freak's name is Felix bc he deserves a name, damn it!

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Eddie woke up to the sweetest voice he’d ever heard blasting throughout the surround sound speakers of his house for what felt like the 100th day in a row. He had walked down the grand staircase of his Hollywood Hills mansion to see his sweet baby girl still in her pyjamas. Her usually perfect light chocolate curls now looked like a rat nest from her sleep as she jumped, danced, and sang along to her favourite Pop Star.

As Eddie suspected, you were gracing his TV screen as he turned the corner into the family room. He can’t help but stare as you are in a Barbie pink bathing suit, sitting in a pink polka dot pool floaty, singing along to the song in your latest music video.

Eddie’s first introduction to you was when his daughter asked him to help her put your poster on her bedroom wall when she was 9. Eddie’s throat got tight and dry at the sight of you, posing in a baby blue cardigan and a white tank top underneath paired with a blue miniskirt and knee-high socks; as his eyes skim over the poster, he sees your name scrawled on the bottom right corner like you had “signed” it.

“Who is this, cupcake?” Eddie cleared his throat. “She sings Angel, Duh!” telling him like he was the last person on the earth to find out who you are. He looks at his daughter, keeping his eyes off that little outfit, especially because it is showing off the bellybutton ring you wore, and it’s doing things to his body that he hasn’t felt in years. “That's who I’m forced to listen to 50 times a day?!” He asks eyes bug out of his skull. His daughter would not stop listening to the bubblegum pop song for the past 2 weeks. The first time they had heard it, he was driving her to school. She begged him to download your album, so he asked his assistant to download all your music that was out. Unfortunately for him, at that point, you’d only had out your one song, so he was stuck listening to it on repeat.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re having a good time, but please, can we turn it down.” Eddie was privy to loud music, especially his own. His band Corroded Coffin had been in the industry for almost 2 decades at this point, but now, being 39 and having taken a backseat to raise his 11-year-old, his ears haven’t been so forgiving. “Daddy!” she turned to him with the biggest smile, and his heart melted. She would be a teen soon, and he knew moments like these would be slim to none. Her tiny feet moved her to a running jump into Eddie's arms. Eddie could still lift her up, but she was getting so tall that he couldn’t hold her like this much longer. “Daddy! She is coming here next week can I PLEASE go to the concert? Pretty pretty, please! I’ll do all my chores and my homework, and you won't have to give me my allowance for it pleasepleasepleasepleas-” she begged.

“Alright, Cupcake, first of all, you’re already supposed to do these things regardless. Second, you don’t have to bargain. Was going to surprise you for your birthday!” Eddie smiled. “Oh, thank you, Daddy! thankyouthankyouthankyou!” She latched her arms tightly around his neck, giving him the tightest hug she could. Eddie didn’t disclose the backstage passes he got from his label. He wanted to do everything and anything to make his baby girl happy. He made that promise to her the day she was born.

The day Violet Rose came into the world, his ex told the Doctor to not give her the baby. She didn’t even look at her; she said, “Give it to Eddie.” The word “it” had a sour note that stuck in his memory, even until today. When the Doctor handed her to him, he looked at his cherub-faced angel and fell instantly in love. He would never admit it, but he did cry the first time he held her. She had his eyes and hair, but her nose, skin and lips were all her mother. Eddie was the type of father who would do anything and everything for his kid. He was granted full custody of his daughter and named her Violet Rose. Eddie was never married to his ex-Sarafina… technically. They were drunk and high one night, partying in Vegas when he was young and dumb. Corroded Coffin was in their heyday. He was truly living the rockstar lifestyle. The next week, they both finally sobered up and realized what a terrible mistake they had made and got the marriage annulled.

Months later Sarafina found out she was pregnant. She never wanted to have a baby, and by the time she realized she was pregnant, she was too far into term that she couldn’t do anything about it. She yelled and fought with Eddie, accusing him of "doing this to her” and “that he was the one who ruined her body.” She was a supermodel turned actress; she was career-driven but selfish. She told Eddie she would never be a mother, and either Eddie could take the baby or she would put the baby up for adoption. Eddie, without hesitation, said he would be there to take care of the baby, he would do everything, raise them, and love them no matter what. Even though he was alone and had no idea what parenting entailed, he would be there for his child.

Sarafina begged Eddie to keep the pregnancy hush hush because it would make her “look bad” in the tabloids that she was giving up her baby, so Eddie agreed. He never disclosed to Violet Rose who her mother was. Even to this day, they had no contact. He couldn’t and wouldn’t do that to his Cupcake. He never wanted to have her see the woman who berthed her everywhere in the media, reminding her she wasn’t wanted… just like his own parents did to him. Eddie swore he wouldn’t ever have his baby feel the way he still does; he would make sure of it.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

As the warmer months rolled in, you had a really strong feeling that this would be your summer. You had just finished touring as an opening act with one of the most prominent girl groups from the U.K. this past New Year. You were still on the up and up, even though it’s been about two years since your first #1 hit single, Angel. You’d released your debut self-titled album six months after and recorded a few music videos that had been shown on MTV. This past tour broadened your fan base to help you go international. However, the tabloids were just not as interested in you as you hoped they would be by now. Even with your tour with one of the most prominent Pop groups at the moment, you still had a lot of competition. The pool was over-saturated, and your publicist needed a way for you to stand out of the crowd. Your publicist, Roger, suggested dating someone in the industry a few months after the tour hype had died down.

“But I won’t have time to date someone right now?” You huffed at the silly suggestion. Who would even want to date you? Sure, you got hit on, but no guys ever want to commit. Honestly, you haven’t been on a date in almost two and a half years. You had been so busy focusing on your career that your love life was on standby. You were in your twenties! Going on dates and having fun should have been on the agenda, but that had been set aside once you were signed to your label.

“We will make a deal with someone who also needs some media attention. It won’t be real. Sweetheart, relax. I’ll take care of everything.” Roger really was a good friend and employee. He was a few years older but had been in the industry forever. He has been with you from the start and would never steer you wrong. A publicity stunt meant that there weren’t actual feelings, no commitment; you could do that… Right? Roger explained to you that it would be a handful of public dates and parties, red carpets. No strings attached, no getting your heart broken again. That was months ago, and you soon forgot about the whole thing. You were too busy preparing for your solo North American tour.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The tour has been amazing; you were getting to see places you’ve never been to, filling out larger venues than you had in the past. Your agent claimed that soon enough, you could sell out arenas. The fantasy of performing to huge crowds flooded your mind with flashbacks from the tour with the band. You were snapped back into reality when the stage manager asked if you were okay through the megaphone. You were currently at your final rehearsals for tonight's gig. This was your last show and your biggest. Your six-week tour was finally heading to a close. Tickets for tonight's show had sold out for the original venue within half an hour, so your team decided to move to a larger space; you couldn’t believe it when they told you you felt like you were dreaming.

After rehearsals, your hair and makeup team and stylist worked until you looked like the definition of a ‘Pop Princess,’ not that it took much to begin with. You were a natural beauty. Your skin glowed and was clear from any blemishes. Your teeth had been through whiting and straightened by braces. Your hair was always styled perfectly, and your outfits were styled by only the best. Tonight, you were dressed in your stage outfit, a plaid baby pink miniskirt and a cropped white tube top that said “Angel” across your breast in pink rhinestones. You’d worn this outfit in every colour about 50 times over by now, but you still felt cute every time you put it on.

Before the show, you always did a meet and greet. A lottery of random tickets gets selected, so no one pays extra to meet you. Talking to the people who support you the most was the best part of touring; you loved seeing your fans. As the line of young fans moves forward, your heart swells as you’re reminded why you’re putting in all this work. You were told a super fan was coming in with a special guest; they were to come in last. As you waited for the super fan to arrive, you checked yourself once over in the mirror until you heard the undeniably excited scream coming from a little kid. “Oh my god! It’s really her!” You whip your head around with a genuine smile. A small force hits your body as the little girl runs to you and grips your waist in the tightest hug.

“Hey sweetie, you here all by yourself?” you question concerned. Distracted by the cutie gripping you, you don’t see the man walk into the room behind her. “You accusing me of being a bad father, Angel?” The sultry voice was familiar, but you couldn’t place it. Your head snapped up, and your eyes locked. At that moment, Eddie knew he was done for. Sure, he has a slight crush on you, but now, seeing you in person? He sees hearts surrounding your head, and you’re moving in slow motion; he swore he was struck by Cupid's arrow.

“Oh no, never! I was just worried she had run off with her parents.” You look up, and your heart flutters into your stomach at the sight of the man standing before you. Eddie Munson in the flesh.

Your parents had been huge fans of his band; you knew pretty much all his music from listening to it growing up. He was a musical legend, and not to mention the hottest DILF out there. His hair was still long even after all this time, just a little shorter and more tame than when you saw him on album covers. His broad shoulders filed out his black satin button-up. He styled it by rolling up the sleeves, and was only buttoned to his mid-chest. He showed so much skin that you could see his tattoos. Even the tops of his hands were inked with the signature purple roses he proudly displayed for his daughter. He paired his shirt with black slacks, a black and silver belt, and some boots. As you examined his face, you noticed he had laugh lines around his eyes and probably around his mouth, but it was covered by his short beard. It was hard not to check him out; he looked so damn good.

“I’m just teasing Sweetheart.” You felt the heat of your blood rush to your cheeks at the tone of his voice. “Thank you for coming; they told me I had a special guest but didn’t say who.” You switched your attention back to his daughter; you wanted to make her feel special like all the other fans. “What's your name, Sweetheart?” You ask. “Violet Rose,” She says proudly. “That is such a beautiful name! Your Mommy and Daddy picked a good one.” You smiled at her, but her smile dropped after you spoke. “I don’t have a Mommy.” She shifted her gaze towards her purple light-up sneakers.

Your heart sank because you shouldn’t have mentioned the parents. You knew Eddie was single but didn’t realize her mom wasn’t in the picture. You looked to Eddie, and he gave you an apologetic gaze. “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart; I’m sure you and your Daddy are the perfect team though, huh? He must be a great Dad to bring you here; I’m sure he isn’t into this kind of music.” You teased, giving Eddie a wink. That seemed to brighten her mood. “Yea! We always sing your songs in the car together on the way to school!” she bragged. That made Eddie blush, and you let out a giggle. The thought of the older metalhead singing along to your music? Priceless. “Oh really? THE Eddie Munson singing along to me? I would pay to see that.” You laugh.

“You know my Daddy?” She looks at you, confused. “Sweetheart, remember how I told you I used to do what this lovely little lady does?” he reminds his daughter. Eddie hadn’t released any new music since his daughter was a toddler, so her confusion wasn’t surprising.

“Ohhhh, you should do a song together! My Daddy sings all the time, and he plays guitar! He can make reallllly good songs,” She praised. “Oh no, Cupcake, I’m sure the Princess of Pop here doesn’t want some old man like me helping her out.” he laughs nervously. “I wouldn’t say old.” You bit your lip.

“5 minutes to curtal call, all performers to the stage.” The announcement over the speaker screeched.

“Sorry, cutie, I have to go, but maybe I’ll see you after the show? You and your Dad can come to the dressing room after OK?” You smiled at them and blew a kiss, aiming it at Eddie before walking out the door. Eddie was speechless. Were you flirting with him? He was at least ten years older or older. You couldn’t possibly be?

Eddie surprisingly enjoyed himself; he knew every song because of Violet Rose, so he ended up singing along to most of the show. Eddie also enjoyed how your body moved on stage; all of your cute little choreographed dances were turning him on the way more than they should. He had to remember that he was currently with his kid, but his thoughts betrayed him. You were always the star of his fantasies when he was alone in bed. Seeing you in person, live on stage, being able to smell your sweet perfume that smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, clinging to his shirt when you gave him a hug at the meet and greet. His thoughts morphed into how after the show, he would take you into your dressing room and bend you over the vanity, flip up your skirt and fuck your brains out.

He snapped out of his daydreams when he heard a blood-curdling scream from his child. She was having so much fun. He loved seeing his Cupcake having the time of her life and could not stop talking about how you’re meeting them again after the show.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

A knock on the door came about 25 minutes after you got off stage, just enough time for you to quickly rinse off and change out of your sweaty stage clothes. “Hey, pretty girl! Hi handsome.” you open the door and greet Violet Rose, and Eddie. You usher them into the greenroom, and Violet asks you a million questions that you gladly answer.

“Vi, I think we should get going. We have more than over-welcomed our stay, and Angel here probably has a lot of people waiting on her.” Eddie checked his watch. A look of disappointment crossed your face. You haven’t even had much of a chance to talk to Eddie. Selfishly that’s why you invited them both back after the show. Your publicist said you should be dating; why not Eddie? He was charming and handsome. “Oh, I didn’t even realize the time, I do have an after-party I should attend, it is for me, after all… I would invite you, little miss, but it’s at a club, adults only.” You gave Eddie a sorry smile. “No, truly, you’ve done more than enough for Vi; we have taken more than enough of your time.” Eddie shook his head. “Ok, well, if you want to come, it’s—actually, here! Give me your phone.” You were never this bold, but you needed to do this for yourself, and what could it hurt? Eddie was hot, and you hadn’t gotten laid in so long.

“Uh, what?” He looked confused, “Trust me,” you gave him a flirtatious smile. He chuckled and handed you his phone. You texted yourself from his cellphone and saved your number in his contacts under Angel just because of what he called you earlier. “I’ll text you the address; feel free to come if you’re up to it; I’ll make sure you’re on the list.” You smile. “Oh, I’m always on the list, Baby.” He stepped closer to you. Eddie forgot where he was for a minute. The second the word baby slipped out of his mouth, he regretted it immediately. His daughter was right there; she had never seen him interact with a woman in any romantic capacity. He cleared his throat after realizing he had said a quick goodbye and dragged Violet Rose out.

Once Eddie pulled into the drive of his home, Violet Rose was already passed out in the car's back seat. He had carried her up to her room, gently placed her on the bed, picked out a pair of her pyjamas, gently woke her up and told her to get changed and into bed. He left hoping she would at least get out of her concert outfit, but he would remind the maid to wash her sheets in the morning just to be safe.

Eddie was so wound up from meeting you tonight he couldn’t go to sleep. He couldn’t go to the club because there was no one to look after Vi. He was so tempted but couldn’t leave her; she was too little. He looked through his phone and remembered you gave him your number. Maybe you were flirting with him? Back in his day, that was definitely a way to tell if a girl liked you. But you were what? At least 21, you could get into a club, and he was 39 and a Dad. He fought back and forth with himself until his phone dinged, grabbing his attention. The name Angel popped up, and he was confused at first, then remembered you had used his phone to get his number.

Angel: Too bad you couldn’t make it tonight, but I understand! Maybe we can meet up some other time?🥰 Angel: Just the two of us…

Eddie was shocked, you were forward and for sure flirting with him and he liked it. You were extremely nervous sending the text.

You were out at the club, tipsy, and your friends had convinced you to send the first text, then one of them grabbed your phone and sent the second one, just to be clear for good measure. While you waited for his reply that felt like a thousand years, you took another tequila shot. Why were you so nervous about his reply? This night was about you! You were supposed to be celebrating your highly successful tour, but the second your phone vibrated, you were unlocking it to see.

Eddie: Thank you so much for making Vi’s night so special, let me take you to dinner as a thank you? 😁

Oh my god, did he asked you out?

Angel: It was my pleasure, but I’ll never pass up the chance for free food���� Eddie: I’ll call you tomorrow and we can work out the details, have fun and don’t do anything I would do😏

Eddie didn’t text you for the rest of the night, but it was already 1:45 a.m., and you were busy partying.

Eddie did not go to sleep right away after he sent that text. He was like a lovesick teenager while looking through your social media, your Instagram and TikTok. He couldn’t stop looking at the picture the three of you took at the meet and greet. You had looked so cute, the way your outfit clung to your body, showing off all the right places… It was ingrained in his brain. He allowed his mind to drift to dirty thoughts about you again. You were his favourite fantasy.

His hand traced his stomach down further until his fingers traced the tip of his cock. He had been so worked up all night he had to touch himself. His red tip aching to be enveloped by your sweet little cunt. He imagined how your voice would be begging him to fuck you while he stroked his cock; he thought about what you would look like bouncing up and down, swallowing him whole, how soft your boobs would be in his mouth, how you would scream for him. Oh yeah, baby, such a good girl. Taking me so well, you’re a dirty girl, wanting me to fill you. Do you like that? Taking all of it, letting me use you, beg for it, baby. He gripped his fist tighter around himself, aching for release. A loud primal groan left Eddie’s mouth as he came. He knew he was in big trouble. That was one of the hardest times he’d cum in a while. His undeniable crush on you was growing, and he wasn’t sure he could control it.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The following day, you woke up with a nasty hangover and an early morning call from your publicity team. They asked you to meet with them at noon in the office. Worry filled you; what had you done last night? Were you messy? Did someone leak a video of you partying? Your fans were young and impressionable. You had to keep your image somewhat clean. As you showered, getting ready for the day, memories of meeting and texting Eddie flooded your mind. Oh my god, you’d hit on Eddie Munson, and he’d asked you out! That put a little bit more pep in your step.

As you enter the office, you don’t pay much attention to the people surrounding you as you stalk Roger’s office. Looking down at your phone as you open the solid oak door, you almost crash into someone built like a brick wall. Your short stature couldn’t see over their broad shoulders blocking the entrance. You let out a little yelp as you almost spilled the coffee to help your hangover all over your baby blue silk power suit.

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath. The person whips their head around at the sudden admission. You’re still looking at your outfit to see if you’d spill anything on yourself when you hear him.“Fancy meeting you here, Angel.” Your head shoots up; Eddie is the brick wall blocking your way. You try and come up with something witty, but you’re off your game this morning. Why would he be here? Did your texts leak? What is going on?.

“Hello lovely, have a seat. We will get right to it.” You hear Rogers's voice come from behind Eddie and his team. You take a seat at his desk with Eddie sitting beside you. “What's going on?” you ask no one in particular. “We came up with a plan for more publicity, Sweetheart.” Roger smiles. His nicknames never bothered you; he was kind and caring, never talking down to you, and you knew he always had your best interests at heart. “Oh?” You looked to Eddie because why would he be here as well? Roger starts talking, and your attention goes back to him. “You see, Corroded Coffin is coming back from hiatus! A new album will be released in a few months, and they’re going on tour.”

Oh wow! This was so exciting for them! You couldn’t wait to tell your parents the news. Maybe you could get tickets for them as an anniversary gift?

You turn your head back to Eddie with a smile. He’s not looking at you, but the desk held his gaze. There was a look in his eyes like he wasn't listening... like he was off in another world. Did he not like the idea? He asked you out only last night. Maybe he knew before you? Maybe that was why he asked you out?

"Since you and the band are signed to the same label, and Eddie is the band's frontman, we thought this could be a good match. Lord knows the band needs some good publicity since it’s been about 8 years since anything has been released.” Roger explained.

Oh, you see…this was all for show, he must have known before you did. That’s the only reason he asked you out... Your heart sank a little bit knowing now that it was all a part of the plan; but why wouldn’t he tell you? “What do you think darling?” Roger asked. “Well I mean, I guess why not?” What could it hurt? You got along, he was hot, and you knew you wanted no strings attached. No more hurt, not again. “Eddie, how about you?” Eddie snapped out of his trace at the sound of his name. “Uh yeah. Sure, whatever works.” He brushed it off. Eddie hardly looked at you for the rest of the meeting. “Great your people and my people will set up the contract and you can both sign it. Thanks for coming in, we will send it to you by 4:00pm. The both of you have a lovely afternoon.” Roger dismissed you.

Eddie did not pay attention during that entire meeting nor the time he spent signing the contract. He was too in his head about the situation. He was now obligated to date you. He didn’t care that it was all for show because, through his eyes, any time Eddie was to spend with you was precious.

After signing the contract, Eddie started thinking of dates to bring you on because he didn’t read the part where it said the dates would be scheduled and planned by your teams accordingly. They would be strategically coordinated so there would always be paparazzi. He didn’t pay attention to any of the contractual obligations, especially the fine print. He was excited he got to show you off as his girl.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

A few days after the meeting between your team and Eddie's, you received a call from none other than Eddie himself. He called you asking you to come over for dinner, which surprised you even though he said he would. You were nervous because you still had a growing crush on Eddie and wanted to look extra good for him. A million questions ran through your head while deciding on what to wear. Would his daughter be there? You needed to dress cute but casually; it was only at his house, after all… Maybe it was a get-to-know-you-better kind of thing? To get your stories straight? How you had met, how you had “fallen in love,” that sort of thing?

You did your signature soft girl makeup and pulled your hair into a half-up, half-down look to keep your hair out of your eyes. You dressed in your high-waisted light wash Levi jeans that made your ass look out of this world and paired it with a cropped white baby tee and a sage green cropped knit cardigan. You did another spritz for your favourite perfume for good measure. You glanced at yourself one more time in the mirror. Casual, simple, not too much, right? You decided if you didn’t leave right now, you never would.

Eddie opened the door to his mansion seconds after the bell rang. He was already alerted by the gate buzzer, so he had time to get to the door. You nervously wait for him to open up the 10ft door that looks like it could swallow you whole. “Hi Princes-Is that seriously your car?” He chuckled. You turn your head to look behind you to see your baby pink G wagon sitting in the driveway. You shrug your shoulders as your cheeks heat and blush at his teasing. “It was a gift from the label for hitting platinum on my first album.” You shrugged. This version of you seemed to be a lot more shy than the first time Eddie met you.

Eddie thought you were adorable, and you thought he looked like a Greek god standing there in the doorway. “Can I come in?” You asked, reaching to nervously twirl the bottom of your hair with both hands. “Shit, sorry, where are my manners? It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.” He scolded himself after it came out of his mouth. Real fucking smooth, Munson. You giggled at his omission and stepped into his home. You looked around, seeing that it was exactly as you would picture it. The walls were painted dark, warm charcoal accented with gold features, platinum and gold records and Grammy awards mounted to the walls. You were memorized by the things that were distinctly Eddie, but it could use a feminine touch, in your opinion. How did a girly girl like Violet Rose grow up in a place like this?

He led you to the kitchen as he continued the home tour. The kitchen was grand and lush with dark emerald green cabinets, the same charcoal grey walls and brassy gold appliances and hardware. The smell that wafted through your nose as Eddie led you into the room was the best thing you’d smelt in a while. Sure, you can cook for yourself, but who has the time? As you take in the delicious smell, you hum automatically. “It smells so good! What are you making?” You ask, sitting on the brass bar stool. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He gave you a toothy smile and a wink. That made your whole body flutter, heart, stomach…pussy. He was too charming for his own good. You were screwed and not in the way you wanted to be.

He automatically poured you a glass of white wine and said it would 'pair nicely' with whatever he was cooking for the two of you. “So where is Violet Rose?” You asked, taking a sip. “Sleepover with the Kardashians, they live just up the street.” He shrugged. You choke on the wine; he said it so casually, like they weren’t the most famous family in the world. This world was still very new to you. You hardly had three years under your belt, and he had decades on you. “Oh god! Are you okay?” he rushed to your aid, his large hand spaying over your back, circling it gently. “Yeah, just um, went down the wrong way.” You choked embarrasly as you caught your breath. Eddie squeezed your bicep and returned to the stove to serve the food. “Don’t choke on this, okay? The last thing I need is a headline that says Freak, Eddie Munson kills Beautiful Pop Princess. He placed it before you, and you laughed at his lame joke. Still a bit embarrassed, but that all went away when you saw what he put down in front of you. “Are you some sort of Houdini? Or did you know this was my favourite?” You raised a brow.

Oh, Eddie had known; he saw you post about it when he was stalking your Instagram a few nights prior. He was determined to get it right; he practiced making it a few times for Vi before your date. So much so that she got sick of it and begged him to make her boxed mac and cheese instead.

“A magician never tells his secrets.” He winked at you, sitting right beside you at the kitchen island. Having him this close to you made everything flutter again. You took your first bite, and your initial reaction was to moan at how good it tasted. Your eyes close as your head falls back, enjoying every bite. Eddies cock twitched the second you let out that moan. His breath hitched; he knew your moans would be sweet, but his imagination could not conjure up the sweetness that left your throat. Eddie knew if it was this easy to get you to make that sweet sound in the kitchen, he could just as easily get them out of you in the bedroom as well.

“Eddie this is sooooo good!” you compliment him.

He smiled shyly and thanked you. You sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your homemade dinner. “I was surprised you asked me to your house.” You openly admitted, looking over at him.

“Really? He asked as he took a sip of wine. You watched his tattooed-clad hand grip the glass as he brought the honey-coloured liquid to his plump lips and watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Um, yeah, I guess I was wondering why?” You shook your head out of your daze. “Can’t a man ask a pretty girl on a date?” He teased.

“So this is a date? You asked, confirming. “Why wouldn’t it be?” He asked. “What about the contract?” You asked, fully knowing all dates were to be set up by your two teams and were to be in public. “What about it?” He asked. “I guess I’m surprised you wanted to be alone with me, is all?” You shrugged. “Any man would be stupid to not want you alone, Angel.” His voice deepened.

Your breath hitched, and you took the last sip of your wine. Eddie got up to pour you another glass. As he walked back, he stood behind you, and as he reached over you, you could feel his chest brush up against your back. He let a ringed hand fall on your shoulder for balance as he leaned over to pour you a glass from behind. He smelled intoxicating. His cologne was obviously expensive, rich and all man.

���We should get to know one another better,” He said while subtly moving his stool closer to you. “Oh, ok, what did you want to know?” Your head was still spinning from his scent that lingered in the air around you. “Everything.” His voice was so sultry it hypnotized you. “You’re going to have to be more specific,” you giggle. That second glass of wine was quickly lifting your inhibitions.

“Ok, how about we start with why you’re agreeing to be with an old guy like me when you could have any guy in the world, Sweetheart.” He raised his brows to you. “I wouldn’t call you old.” You admit to him. “I’m turning 40 next year, baby... and you’re what? 21? I could be your father." he begrudgingly admitted.

You laugh again; what the hell was in this wine? “I’m 25, thank you very much, turning 26 next month.” You smiled. “Oh, so you’re a Gemini.” He was quick with his answer. “So I am… and to answer your question, I don’t have time for dating, and the last time I was in a relationship was so long ago. He didn’t respect me or my dreams and said I wasn’t good enough to make it. And to top it all, he went and fucked everyone who wasn’t me…” You looked down at your fork, pushing around with the bits of food still left on your plate.

“Sounds like a little bitch… Pardon my French. I think that you need a real man, someone to take care of you.” A hesitant hand had reached to hold yours that was resting on the black marble countertop, but he backed out and rested it very close beside it. “Or I don’t need a man; I can take care of myself just fine.” Your posture stiffened, still jaded by what your ex had done to you. You had a hard time trusting people who want to get close. Especially now when you can always do something for them, whether that be money, fifteen minutes of fame, or exposure. It all came down to people leeching off one another in this world. Another reason you were hesitant to come tonight was because you knew that Eddie and you had done this deal to do just that for one another. Only this time, it was a mutual agreement; you both know what you’re getting into, so why did it bother you?

“Everyone needs someone, Angel. You can’t be alone forever; humans don’t work that way. We are social creatures we need affection...intimacy.” His tone was strong as he lifted your chin gently in his hand to make you look him in the eyes.

“What about you? You’re a catch; why are you single?” You break your gaze. “Well darlin’, I’m now a full-time dad slash ex-party boy, my reputation precedes me and honestly nobody wants all the baggage that comes with being with me.” He sighs

“Baggage?” You question why a furrowed brow. “You are way too young to know about the things I used to get up to back when I was your age… god that makes me sound old.” He chuckles.

“I think you’re being too hard of yourself; you’re so handsome and charming and a great cook. You, Mr. Munson, are a catch” You smile, reaching to touch his bicep. His eyes flick down to your hand and back up your eyes. He may have been out of the dating scene for almost a decade, but he knew when a girl was flirting with him.

“You trying to butter me up, sweetheart?” He moved closer to you so your noses were almost touching. “What if I am?” Your voice is more than a whisper. “I think we should practice some of our chemistry... we will need to be pretty convincing for the cameras.” you continued.

Eddie didn’t need any more confirmation. He closed the small gap; his plush lips were so gentle, your mouths moved in sync, and his hands moved up to cup your cheeks. You moved so yours rested on the back of his neck.

Kissing Eddie made your head spin; he was firm and in control, but he was so soft, nothing was rushed, and you were both soaking up the moment. You both felt the spark, but neither would care to admit it. This was supposed to be just business, wasn’t it? This didn’t feel like just business. No, this was unbridled attraction. Eddie was the first to pull away. If he hadn’t, another side of him that hadn’t come out in a very long time would be unleashed. He cleared his throat, trying to distract himself from the blood rushing to his cock. You were sad when he pulled away, your head was spinning and you cursed yourself for wanting more. It was only your first date. “I ummm, I guess we can say we have some chemistry?” You scolded yourself. That sounded so lame!

Eddie laughed, “Yeah babe I guess you could say that, but I want to make sure…” He leaned in for another kiss, he was insatiable, it had been years since he’d kissed a woman he cared about, and your mouth was so sweet, your lipgloss tasted like peaches. He got brave, slipped in his tongue, and gripped your waist this time, pulling you closer. The screech of the metal stool being dragged across the hardwood floors was startling, but neither of you reacted. You moaned when his hands gripped the sliver of skin that separated your pants from your top. You placed your hands where they rested before on his neck so you were able to hug yourself closer into him.

“I would definitely say there is some chemistry, Angel.” He pulled away begrudgingly once again. He really needed to stop himself. He could not scare you off, especially on the first date. “You’re a good kisser.” You sigh, eyes still closed, soaking up everything that is Eddie. It made you think about all the other things that Eddie would be good at. Eddie moaned, knowing he could fucking rock your world, but he would have to be patient, he would have to wait.

The rest of the night went smoothly. You had a great time getting to know one another better. You’d learned how he was such a reckless party boy until Vi was born. You bonded on how you both loved to be on stage, how he cannot wait to get back out there but is nervous about releasing new stuff because what if his fans had moved on? You got to know a side of Eddie that the public didn’t ever get a glimpse of.

He glanced at his watch and noticed that it was already 11:30 p.m. You had only gotten there around 7:00 p.m; he didn’t want the night to end but hadn’t an early morning in the studio with the band. He didn’t let you leave without a kiss goodbye. You had melted at his touch, what was supposed to be a quick goodnight kiss turned into a mini make-out session, leaving you with soaked panties to deal with on your drive back to your condo.

As you lay in bed that night, you scroll through your phone, looking at the pictures you took from that night. Roger suggested getting some pictures, putting them on socials, and tagging Eddie in them to get the ball rolling. Your first “date” with Eddie would be set up for next week, and a little bit of gossip never hurt anyone. You look to find the perfect picture to post to your Instagram story. It was a picture of your food, wine, and Eddie's tattooed hand on the counter beside you. His unmistakable purple rose tattoo was in the frame, but you still tagged him just to be safe.

You captioned to picture “Get you a man who can cook just as well as he can sing 😉 @MonsterMunson” That was cute? Right? Oh well too late. You closed your eyes and clicked the post.

A few minutes later you receive a text

Eddie: So I’m your man huh? 😏 Angel: Technically yes, you signed the contact soooo… legally you’re mine lol Eddie: I’m only kidding, Princess Angel: You sure like to tease me a lot😢 Eddie: You will know when I am teasing you, Angel.

It had been about fifteen minutes since Eddie texted you, and he was worried he had crossed a line. Was his flirting too much? Coming on too strong? Maybe this was all contractual to you. Were you calling your publicist to rip up the contact? His thoughts were running wild until he heard his phone go off. He reached for it as it sat facedown on the coffee table. It was a text from you.

Angel: Sorry my phone crashed from all the notifications I’ve been getting about posting the story. Seems like the plan is working!

Maybe this all was just contractual to you after all? But what about that kiss? Eddie was conflicted, fighting with himself, and he was too stubborn to outright ask you. He finally decided to reply 20 minutes later to not look desperate.

Eddie: Great.

When you looked at the reply he seemed off. He used a period. Why was he being dry? He’s old, maybe he thinks punctuation is necessary? You told yourself not to read into it as much.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You haven’t heard much from Eddie since your first date, which was disappointing, but you kept telling yourself it's because he’s older, he’s busy, he was a single dad, and you understood his hectic lifestyle. He would still text you good morning and good night, but he’d only text you one-word answers; he said he prefers calls over texts. So why hasn’t he called you? Screw it, your first public date was coming up, and you wanted his attention. He was probably in the studio today, so you didn’t want to call him. So you texted him first instead.

Angel: Hi handsome 🥰

An hour had passed, and still no reply. Little did you know that every time you texted Eddie, butterflies would erupt in his stomach, but he had to play it cool. You were doing this all for the show, he thought. After an hour of impatient waiting, you decided to be bold. You needed to get his attention, and an idea struck you. You crossed the room to your walk-in closet and started searching. Eddie saw your contact on his phone screen again as he waited his turn outside the sound booth with Jeff and Felix to get into the booth to do the background vocals while Gareth was perfecting his drum solo.

Your contact name lingered there on the lock screen, taunting him. He shoved his phone back on the table and tried to ignore the incessant need to talk to you. “What's up, man?” Jeff asked Eddie, as he was clearly bothered. “Who’s Angel?” Felix leaned over, looking at Eddied's phone, which lit up again when it was thrown on the coffee table in front of them. The band did not know about the arrangement between you and Eddie. “No one, man, mind your business.” Eddie huffed. “You gotta girl we don’t know about?” Felix laughed. “Maybe it’s his daughter?” Jeff suggested. “Oh, it’s definitely not his daughter.” Felix had Eddie’s phone unlocked in his hand.

“What do you mea- give me that!” Eddie snatched the phone out of Felix’s hands and looked down at a picture of you laying in bed wearing a tight red mini cocktail dress. Most of your face was cut out, but he could see you seductively bite your index finger. Eddie's eyes bulged out of his head. He read the text underneath it.

Angel: “This look ok for our date on Friday?” 🤭

Eddie still hadn’t replied. His brain was too busy short-circuiting. It had been an whole hour and ten minutes of him not answering you, and you were getting annoyed and needy. You sent another text, praying it would finally get his attention. Jeff grabbed the phone from Eddie before he could think.

“Damn, Eddie, you are one lucky man, who is she” Jeff smirked. Before Eddie could get his phone back, your text went through, and Jeff read it out loud.

“From Angel: Maybe it’s too much? I wouldn’t be able to wear any underwear with it… can’t have panty lines showing. Winking face,” Jeff finished and looked at Felix with a smirk. “My man! Still have some game after all this time.” Felix laughed. “When was the last time you were even with a girl?” Jeff asked. Eddie grabbed his phone out of Jeffs's hands, ignoring the question and stormed out of the room.

It was now an hour and fifteen minutes since you triple-texted Eddie... This was pathetic. Just as you were about to wallow in self-pity, your phone started to ring. It was Eddie, your heart leapt into your throat, you answered it on the fourth ring.

“Hey, hot stuff,” You greeted him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Eddie’s voice was stern and hushed like he didn’t want anyone to hear him. “What do you mean?” You tried to play dumb. “Oh, you know exactly what I mean,” he chuckled darkly. “You didn’t like my dress?” you kept your voice sickly sweet and way too innocent. “You’re a little minx, you know that?” Eddie growled through the phone. Your body reacted to his voice so easily, a shiver ran up your spine.“I-I didn’t do anything?” You still played dumb. “You better wear that on Friday, sweetheart, but I’ll need to know if you decide to not wear your panties,” he whispered. “Why?” you were not letting go of this act. “Fuck sweetheart, you’re making me want to do bad things to you.” He sighed. He heard you giggle softly on the other end of the call. “Have I been a bad girl?” the flirting came so naturally when it came to Eddie. “You really know how to wind a man up.” He shook his head. This was all for the show; this wasn’t supposed to be real. Then why were you playing him like it was? “If I was there right now, you have no idea what I wou-”

“Ed! Let’s go, we need you, man!” Gareth cut off Eddie from behind a closed studio door. “Fuck, I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later. No more pictures, ok? The guys damn well near had a heart attack.” And with that, Eddie hung up. So he was at the studio, and you had worked him up. Your plan was working.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The rest of the week flew by, and Friday seemed to sneak up on you. Working in the studio, writing and recording some demos took up much of your time. Eddie was gradually getting better with texting you, but you understood that he was in the same boat as you.

You look at the clock and see it is time to prepare for your date! You take a shower, exfoliating and shaving everywhere because you never know. When you get out, you pour yourself a little glass to loosen. You apply your makeup as you let your hair sit in a towel on top of your head. Your drink was two-thirds gone by the time you dried and styled it. It has been a few hours, and you finally slipped on your tight little dress. You paired it with some black strappy heels and your Armani clutch, and you were ready to go. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, spritzed some last-minute perfume because you had forgotten, triple-checked you had applied deodorant, applied one last layer of lipgloss, and had to remind yourself less is more. You forced yourself out of the bathroom, or you would keep adding to your ensemble.

Walking out of your bathroom, you hear the apartment buzzer going off. Eddie was to pick you up at 6:00 p.m., and you glanced at your phone to see it was 6:01 p.m. “Hey, sweet girl, buzz me up?” You hear over the intercom. Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you hear his voice. “No need. I’m coming down!” You reassured him. “How can I be a gentleman and pick you up if you won’t let me in?” He laughed.

“Fine, come on up.” You playfully roll your eyes and hold the buzzer for him. You pace your foyer for about 5 minutes, but it feels like forever. You hear a quick knock on the door, and you whip it open so quick your hair blows in its wake. You’re stunned by the man standing before you. Eddie looks delicious. His hair was neatly pulled back in a low bun; he probably put some product in it to keep the frizz away. His all-black suit was tailored for him exactly. His crisp white button-up wasn't done up all the way, showing off his chest tattoos. Eddie lets out a whistle when he sees you; the bouquet of flowers he is holding drops down as he itches his brow with his thumb. “You’re making it awfully hard to be a gentleman, baby… Give me a spin. Let me see you.” he lifts your hand to turn you slowly. Baby. It makes your head spin, or was that because he was literally spinning you? “Beautiful.” He half says under his breath. The hallway was quiet, so you managed to hear whether he intended for you to or not. “We should get going,” You say as you’re about to lock the door. “Wait! Here.” He shoved the flowers into your hands, which you both almost forgot about. The bouquet was a mix of different flowers of all shades of pink, white, and green. A huge smile broke on your face. You weren’t used to this, men opening doors for you, bringing you flowers.

You invited him in, wanting to put them in water before you left. You bent over to find a vase in your bottom cabinets. “No panty lines, I see.” You heard the smugness in his voice. “So you openly admit that you’re checking me out?” you ask, your back still turned to him as you fill the glass with water. You turn to see a smug smile on his face and playfully roll your eyes in return. “We should get going, or else I don’t think I'll be able to leave; you make that dress look criminal.” He sighs." Keep it professional, Mr. Munson. We are on duty tonight.” You giggle as you lock your door. Eddie rests his hand on the small of your back as you walk to the elevator. He opens the car door for you, and you try to cover up your excited smile.

Roger told you the paparazzi will be tipped off and will capture the both of you after you leave. They booked you a table at this new hot spot restaurant called Enzo’s. The food was supposed to be incredible; you were excited about getting a table there.

The walk into the restaurant wasn’t very outrageous. The hostess showed you two your table, a booth seated next to a smaller window… very subtle, Roger. “So what’s your favourite Italian meal?” You asked Eddie, picking up the menu. “Anything when I’m actually in Italy,” He said casually. “Okay, Mr. Hotshot, what about when you’re not in Italy.” You picked up a breadstick, nibbling on the end. “Rissoto alla Milanese,” He says in a flawless accent. “Don’t tell me you speak Italian,” You accuse. The waiter comes to take your drink orders, and Eddie continues on. “Corroded Coffin has a big Italian demographic, surprisingly. We spend a lot of time touring there. This Café in Amalfi has the best pastries you’ll ever taste! I’ll have to take you some time.” He smiles.

The waiter returned with your drinks, but you waited a little longer to order because you still needed to look at the menu. “Oh, you wanna take me to Italy?” you ask while sipping your red wine. “Name a place and time, baby. I’ll fire up the jet.” He sips his amaretto. “You have a jet?” You choke out. You truly forgot how big of a star Eddie Munson is. He is an A list, while you’re more likely on the C list. How is it that he agreed to do this contract with you? “Of course I do.” He said nonchalantly.

After finishing one of the best meals you ever had, a flash of light filters through the window. “And so it starts,” Eddie sighs. Honestly, you had forgotten that this night wasn’t supposed to be an authentic date. You’re supposed to not have any strings attached, no feeling, no commitment, no attraction! Then tell that to your vagina...

“Can I get you anything for dessert?” The waiter asks. “I guess we have to milk it a little longer?” you half-whisper. Eddie orders you a tiramisu to share. “I am having a lot of fun tonight.” Eddie admits, “Me too.” you bite your lip. A few minutes later, your cake is presented on the table. You cheers your silver teaspoons and dig in. You let your senses take over as you put the sweet cake and cream in your mouth. You let out an audible moan as your head falls back. Just like how you did for the meal Eddie Cooked You.

Eddie’s eyes go dark as he hears the moan leave your mouth, forgetting where he is and what he is meant to be doing. “You really know how to tease me, Princess.” Your head snaps back up at Eddie's omission. “I thought you were supposed to be the expert tease?” You place another piece of cake in your mouth and slowly slide the spoon down your lips. Eddie looked at you like he would devour you, and you were willing to let him. Another flash brought the both of you back into reality. Letting out a sigh, you both decided to wrap up the date. Eddie paid and grabbed your hand to help you out of the booth. “Ready for this shit show, Princess?” He wrapped a protective arm around your shoulder. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” You said while peering into his beautiful brown eyes.

Eddie opened the doors of Enzo’s, and it was like walking into a circus. There were what looked like 15 Paps, all surrounding the doors, the bright flashes, the yelling of your names, so many voices telling you where to look. You smiled slightly and watched where your and Eddie's feet took you.

You suddenly felt someone grab the back of your dress, making you let out a small yelp. Eddie asks you what’s wrong. You tell him someone grabbed you, and something switches within Eddie. “Who put their hands on my girl?” Eddie was seeing red. You begged Eddie to get you to the car before a fight broke out. He saw the fear in your eyes, pushed your way through the sea of cameras, and safely made it to the car. “You okay, Angel?” Eddie asked once he was in the driver's seat. “Yeah, I think so. That was really scary,” you say while steadying your breath. “First time?” He asks you while resting his hand on the back of my head for comfort. “That obvious?” You say with a shaky laugh. “I’ve been doing this for ten-plus years, Angel. It never gets any easier.” He shook his head.

“Thank you for standing up for me.” You go to grab his other hand that was resting on the console, and you give it a light squeeze. The moment was so intimate you were dying to kiss him. His lips were stained red from the tomato sauce, and his cologne was so intoxicating. To just lean in a little bit more...

The cameras were still flashing, and Eddie needed to get the both of you out of there, “They’ve had their fair share of pictures.” He whispers as he leans back. He wants to kiss you; he so wants to kiss you at this moment, but he doesn’t want to kiss you just for cameras. He wants that between the two of you, away from the public. But you didn’t know that. You think it’s hit him that this is all for the show, that he is just doing this for the contract. You are so far into your head the rest of the way home. You’re very quiet compared to when you were at dinner with Eddie.

“Everything okay, Baby?” Eddie asks as he pulls into your building's visitor parking spot. “Yeah, just a crazy night… Well, thank you for dinner. I believe we pulled it off, um, goodnight.” You shake it off and go to open the passenger door.

“Woah woah woah, slow down, let me.” He reaches out to stop you, and you roll your eyes at his need to be gentlemanly. You see him scurry around the front of the car. He swings the door open and holds out his hand to help you out of the car. “M’lady” slips out as he helps you stand.

“Thank you, kind sir.” You give a small curtsy. “I’ll walk you to your apartment. Make sure you get home safe.” He guides you to the elevators. Hand resting on your back the whole way up, you were so tempted to lean your head on his shoulder, but you had to remind yourself this was all an act even though you wanted it to be more.

“Well... this is me.” You say as you get to your front door. An internal cringe runs through your body. Of course, he knows this is you. He picked you up from here mere hours ago. “So it is,” Eddie says, hoping you invite him in. “Um, well, thanks for dinner, goodnight.” You turn to unlock the door, but Eddie stops you by placing his hand on your hand with the keys. “Woah, hold on, Sweetheart, you’re not getting away that easy. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours? Hm, you’ve been quiet since the car?” He lifted your chin up to look at him. “This is all so new for me. I guess I’m overwhelmed.” It wasn’t a lie; it was overwhelming this new life you made for yourself. “I know, Angel, this world is crazy, but you have me, okay? You don’t have anything to be afraid of.” He reassured you, but it didn’t help. You had lots to be afraid of. You were scared of your feelings for Eddie; you’re scared he doesn’t feel the same way.

Eddie saw the look on your face; your thoughts were spinning, and he saw the wheels in your head turning. He wanted to make it all go away. He needed to make you feel better, to turn off all your thoughts. Eddie did what he knew best; he leaned in to kiss you. It was unexpected. It caught you off guard but brought you back to reality. Eddie was soft and gentle. A peck was all it was, but it was more than that underneath. You two had something special, it was undeniable that you both felt it but were too chicken to admit it.

Eddie was the first to pull away once again, and you hated that he did. “Do you want to come inside?” You don’t know where that offer came from. This was not how the night was to end up. “Are you sure, Angel? You were ready to shoo me off your doorstep a minute ago.” He chuckled. “Do you want some coffee?” You started to unlock your door.

“I don’t think coffee is what I want to consume if I join because of how you’re wearing that dress…” He has that look again like he could eat you. A shiver runs down your spine. “I thought you were trying to be a gentleman? Am I not a Lady.” You turn in your doorway. “Yes, and a Lady she shall stay…for now.” He leaned in to give you one last head-spinning kiss. “Goodnight, Baby.” He takes your hand and raises it to his mouth. “Let me know when you get home safe.” You hum. Eddie has you hypnotized.

After seeing him get into the elevator, you lock your door and start to get unready. You plop down on your bed, makeup wipe in hand, feeling conflicted. On one hand, you have Eddie at your fingertips; on the other, you have your entire career to worry about. You ultimately decide that not sleeping with Eddie was the best choice. It keeps things simple and sure your pussy throbs whenever he kisses or touches you, but that would go away… right? You haven’t been touched in a while.…that’s all it is, so why can’t you help yourself from reaching down further until you feel your wet folds? You had no panties on; it wasn’t a lie on your part. You could feel your slick coating the tops of your inner thighs. You were so wet. How had you just noticed now? Your pussy was begging for attention. You had to give in.

You stripped off your dress you were laying there naked in your bed. You thought about how Eddie’s lips felt against yours, how his big hands felt when he rested them on your back and thigh while driving. You thought about what his skilled mouth was capable of. Your clit was screaming at you for relief as you teased yourself getting ready. You couldn’t take it anymore. You gave yourself the relief you needed, circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure. Your other hand explored your breasts, toying with each nipple that sent a sensation of pleasure straight to your pussy. You kept thinking about Eddie dominating you, how he would use such filthy words. Do you like being such a dirty little girl for me? Letting me use you as my little fuck toy? Such a good girl for me.

You imagined Eddie’s voice repeating those words repeatedly until your head was spinning, the coil in your lower belly was tightening, it was about to snap, so close, you curled harder and harder. You’re lost in the feeling; you don’t even realize your phone is ringing… until you do. It broke you out of the almost orgasm. Fuck you lost it.

You angrily look to see who is calling; your mood switches when you see the man of your fantasy face timing you, so you answer, not thinking about how you're naked. “Hey, pretty girl, made it home.” He smiled. It looked like he was sitting in his bed. “You made good time,” You say, panting, slowly regaining your breath. “Are you naked?!” Eddie's eyes bulge out of his head.

“Who is that, Daddy?” you both hear a small voice coming from Eddie’s end. “Shit,” he said under his breath before he continued, “Cupcake, go back to bed. It’s midnight, way past your bedtime!” He’s talking to his daughter, and you scramble to put on the old t-shirt you had lying on your bed from getting ready earlier.

“Is that Poppy?” You can hear the excitement in her voice. Who is Poppy? Did he have another girl around he didn’t tell you about? “Poppy? Who’s Poppy?” Eddie asks Violet Rose, confused. “POPPY! like Princess of POP!” She explains that he’s a moron. Eddie still doesn’t understand, so she continues, “You call her Angle; I call her Poppy because a Poppy is also a flower, just like me! VIOLET ROSE and POPPY” She spells it out for him. Your heart swells that they both have nicknames to use for you. “I like that, Vi. We can be flower power buddies.” You giggle at the nickname.

The padding of her feet sped up like she was running at the sound of your voice. Eddie shook on the screen before you, and he let out an “oof” sound. “Violet Rose, do not make me ask you again,” his voice was stern. “But Daddy, pleeeeeeease, I just want to say hi, and I’ll go to bed! I pinky promise!” You see her milk chocolate curls pop into view.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiii Poppy! You should come over to our house now you and Daddy are friends! You can come to my pool party! ” She is such a sweet kid. “Hi, cutie, I’ll have to ensure that’s okay with your Dad.” You reply, looking at him. Eddie’s brows furrow, thinking about if that’s a good idea or not?

“Cupcake, you said hello now go to bed,” Eddie chides. “Fine… byeeee!” She waves furiously at the phone camera and slumps off the bed out of view. “Sorry about her; she is very excitable when it comes to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about the concert,” he apologized. “It’s okay, baby; she’s adorable and a really sweet kid.” Baby, it just slipped out. You try and play it off like nothing happened, but Eddie couldn’t allow that.

“Baby, huh? I thought we were off duty?” He slides down his pillows, resting a hand behind his head, propping his head up. You can see the swell of his bicep flexing behind his head, and you blush at the accusation. “Off the clock or not, there is no denying you’re a babe. Some may even say DILF,” What had gotten into you?! Maybe it was all that fancy Italian wine from the restaurant; that was it, definitely. “DILF, huh? What exactly were you doing when I called?” his tone changed. It was sultry and deep, and it shot right through to your core. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Two can play at this game. “Where you touching yourself, Angel?” He questioned. “Mr. Munson, I have never!” You throw your hand up to your chest dramatically. This made Eddie laugh, so you loved the sound of his laugh and the way his eyes crinkled, making his crow's feet even more pronounced.

“Please, Sweetheart, Mr. Munson is my uncle, don’t make me feel that old.” He shook his head. “Do you think I was touching myself to the thought of you? You dirty old man?” You couldn’t keep a straight face. You let out a barked laugh and apologized. “I’m sorry,” you say between giggles. “I’ll never say that again! I think it’s the wine; my head feels loopy.” You slunk back into your pillows and rested your head. Eddie just laughed in return but thought you were cute and funny. You were easy to talk to. “You look awfully comfortable, Princess.” He wished he was lying beside you. “Wish you were joining me,” you half whispered while fighting to keep your eyes open. “Yeah, me too. Sweet dreams, Angel." Eddie whispers in return. You think you’re dreaming it as you drift off.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The next morning, Roger called to give you an update. “You guys sure sold it last night, let me tell ya! You sure you don’t want to go into acting?” He questioned, “Oh Rog, come on, I’m not that good of an actor,” you brush off. “Sweetheart, please, I saw the video on TMZ, the way Eddie blew up at that pap for bumping into you? Genius!” He exclaimed.

“It wasn’t just a bump, they grabbed me.” You huffed. “Well, whatever happened, I’m glad you’re okay, and you have everyone talking about the both of you!” The plan truly was working, so why did you feel so shitty? “Does the contract say anything about restrictions about when we see one another?” you ask, biting your perfectly manicured thumb. “No, why do you ask?” Roger asks, confused. “Well, his daughter invited me to her pool party, and I was thinking about going?” You had to play this off right; you can’t let Roger know your true feelings and call the whole thing off. “Can’t see anything wrong with that, I suppose? It will make it look more real if you’re seen going over to his house, if anything! Give me a time and address, and I’ll set it up.” He chimed.

Shit, this is not what you wanted.

“Uh, I’m not sure I want the paps around because of his kid; it doesn’t feel right. What if I just do more social media postings?” You rush out. “Fine, but send it to me first; I must approve everything.” Roger commanded.“Ok, thanks, Rog,” you sighed with relief. “Bye, sweetheart.” He hung up.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

A week later, you arrive at Eddie’s house around 1:00 p.m. and hear your song blasting from the speakers, which you presume are in the backyard. You make your way around to the side gate Eddie said for you to come through since that’s where all of them were. You walk around the garden to see 7 little girls splashing in the swimming pool and poor Eddie looking so stressed about being the only supervisor. You let out a soft giggle to yourself when you take him in. He was such a girl dad; you could see he had bright pink and blue nail polish that was clearly done by a child. His hair was up in a high ponytail with different butterfly clips pinning his bangs back, glitter in his beard, and he had on purple eyeshadow that matched the glittery purple feather boa wrapped around his neck. It was a great contrast to the all-black ensemble he was sporting. It made your heart melt to see him being such a good sport about all of this. You could tell he literally would do anything to make his child happy.

“I see you are testing out a new stage look.” You motion up and down. Eddie doesn’t care; he immediately embraces you in a tight hug. “Thank god you’re here!” You can feel the stress in his body melt away when you hug him back. “Of course, I’ll do anything for Vi.” You smiled up at him, making the butterflies in his stomach come to life. Eddie was simp, and he knew it. You’re everything he has ever wanted; he just had to convince you he was what you needed. “That bad, huh?” You cock your head to the side. Eddie could kiss you, and he would if his daughter wasn’t five feet away from him. “You know, I thought I would be okay. I’ve done this before, but now she is twelve and a preteen, and I don’t know what I am doing anymore. Soon, she will be a teenager, and I’m going to be the guy she won’t come to for advice, and she will be drinking and partying and the BOYS! Oh god, the boys! Or girls, you never know? I don’t care, but I can’t deal with anyone breaking her heart and-” “Eddie, breathe.” You touch his biceps, rubbing your hands up and down, grounding him back to reality. “I can handle this; why don’t you go have a smoke, take a breather, grab some water or maybe something stronger, and I’ll be right here watching them, okay?” Your vanilla cinnamon perfume is wafting his senses, calming him down. You were grounding him, letting him know you’re here for him. He didn’t think he could fall for you any harder, but here you are, showing up for him and his baby girl.

Eddie returned back to the yard about twenty minutes later. In all honesty, he had needed two cigarettes to calm himself. When he finished his smoke break, he grabbed a tray and brought out glasses of lemonade for everyone. He walked back out and was stopped in his tracks; he was taking you in for the first time that day. The sight of you in your Barbie pink bathing suit, the same one from that music video. You have all the girls lined up, teaching them some choreography you learned from the same music video. You were so patient and kind and looked so good in that bathing suit. Eddie forgot where he was for a moment; his mind flashed to him between your legs, shifting that small piece of nylon to the side so he could ravish you.

“Dad, look what we learned!” His thoughts were cut off by the sweet voice of his daughter. Fucking hell, Munson get it together, he scolded himself. You were like a damn succubus pulling him into a dirty world he never wanted to escape from. “Looking good, ladies.” He couldn’t peel his eyes away from you; the way your hips shifted side to side, it was all innocent, of course, but that didn’t change the fact that Eddie couldn’t help himself.

“Daddy, is Poppy your girlfriend?” Eddie's head snapped up from the conversation he was having with you at the head of the table while the rest of the girls were having their sandwiches. His head snaps back to you, then back to Violet Rose, “Well-” he clears his throat, thinking about his options. He could tell Vi and the rest of her friends the truth and have to risk them blabbing to their parents and getting the story leaked, or he could lie to his daughter…

Eddie grabs your hand. “You see, Vi, Angel is very special to me.” Not a lie. “So she and I have gone out on some dates.” This is also not a lie. “So, yes, she is my girlfriend.” Also, not technically a lie? “Why is she your girlfriend?” This was Violet Roses's first experience with her father dating someone and, on top of that, dating someone so publicly, but this was not a question Eddie was prepared for. “Um, well, Cupcake,” Eddie was now looking you dead in the eyes. “When you find someone that makes you happy, you want to be with that person… commit to that person. She is kind, she is funny and easy to talk to. She understands what it’s like to be in this crazy world we call Hollywood. She knows how to make me feel cared for and respected. When you find someone like that, you never want to let them go, so you ask them to be with you… that’s why she is my-my girlfriend.” The words spewed out of Eddie like word vomit.

He admitted to many preteen girls his admiration for you and felt his cheeks turning bright red. He will blame the sun. A bunch of “awwwwwes” escaped the table, even if you looked at him like he just gave you the world.

“Who wants ice cream?” He shot up from the table and started walking inside.

“Wow, you almost convinced me you really meant what you were saying.” Eddie jumped, not thinking you had followed him back into the house. “Uhhh yeah- totally.” He cleared his throat. “You really had me going there; you sure you’re also not an actor?” You giggle a little bit uncomfortably. You had wished his words were sincere. He shook his head no and went to the freezer to get the ice cream to make milkshakes. “um, so anyways…Roger said we needed to take pictures together and post them.” You changed the subject. “Oh, um, okay, I guess yeah, why not?” Eddie was visibly frazzled, and you still think it’s because of the party.

“Here, let me get this for them? You go get freshened up, and we can take some pictures, okay?” you give him a soft smile. “What, I look that bad, Princess? Don’t want to be seen with an old man?” He scoffs. “Oh, um, I mean, if you want the whole world to see badass Eddie Munson looking like Violet Rose’s personal Barbie Styling Head, then by all means,” You giggle. Eddie had totally forgotten about the little makeover the girls gave him this entire time.“Shit,” he ran to the bathroom to fix himself.

“She going to be my mom”

“You’re so lucky! I wish she would be my mom!”

“You already have a mom. And I don't! ”

Those are the words you overhear when you go back outside with the assortment of different flavour milkshakes. Oh fuck.

“Who wants ice cream?” You ask in a sing-song voice, changing the subject immediately.

Eddie returned about ten minutes later to take an assortment of pictures and send them to Roger for approval. Roger sends you back the ones you can post on your main feed and your stories. He assigned you and Eddie each your own ones to post.

The one of you standing by Eddie's side and him kissing your cheek and Violet Rose with the biggest smile on her face in front of the both of you was your favourite. You got to post that one, and Eddie got to post the one of you and Violet Rose holding hands and dancing. The internet went wild. Everyone was saying how you were such a cute family, how everyone shipped the two of you. It seemed like your perfect little world wasn’t so fake after all? Maybe it could be real?

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Being Eddie Munson's fake girlfriend was a dream. He took you out on dates; most were planned by the publicity team, but he would ask you to see him without them knowing because he “wanted to see one another without paparazzi.” He pampered you like no other man had in the past, and he wasn’t even your real boyfriend. He likes to buy you things, little things he sees that remind him of you. The last thing he got you were matching bunny slippers with Violet Rose because “you’re just so cute.”

Things between the two of you were becoming routine. You would go over to his house after long studio sessions. You would hang out with Violet Rose even if Eddie wasn’t home yet. You were becoming very attached to her. She would always be able to bring your mood up no matter how you were feeling. Around 4:30p.m, you’d gotten a call from Eddie, who was panicked. “I’m so sorry. I hate to ask this of you, but the nanny had a family emergency, and I won’t be home until I don’t even know when? I didn’t have anyone else to call, and I trust you with her, so can you stay with VR until I get home?” He was frantic. Your heart fluttered that he trusted you enough to watch over Vi. “Eddie, it’s okay, I’m free to watch her- Oh! We can have a pyjama party! We can paint our nails, do some face masks, eat junk food, and watch movies! Oh, it will be so fun!” You hear Eddie release the breath that he was holding.“Thank you so much. You truly are my Angel. You’re sure you’re okay with this?” you can hear the worry in his voice, so you reassure him that it will only be a few hours and everything will be okay.

“Baby Munson?! Your dad is running late, so it’s just us girls for now; you okay with that?” you smiled at her after the Nanny let you in as she was dashing out the door. “OH EM GEEEEEEE!” She jumped up and down with excitement. You had packed your bag with all the essentials for the ultimate slumber party. You had stopped at the store to get sheet masks, candies and chips, and some teen magazines with those fun quizzes. “Go put in your pyjamas. We are having a slumber party!” You told her and went to the bathroom to change into yours, only you realize that you had forgotten the most important part of the pyjama party, the pyjamas. Shit

You exit the bathroom still in your jeans and t-shirt as Violet storms down the stairs, sounding like a herd of Elephants. “Where are your pj’s?” she asks. “Silly me was too excited about getting all the supplies. I forgot to pack them,” You admit. “That's okay, you can wear my dad’s! He lets me sleep in his old t-shirts all the time!” She tugs your hand before you can protest and drags you to his room.

“Violet, are you sure it’s okay for me to be in here?” You take in Eddie’s bedroom. It seems very intimate to be inside someone's personal space. Violet Rose rifles through Eddie’s armour and passes you a faded Corroded Coffin tour shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Are you sure this is okay?” You ask her again. “Yeah, you’re his girlfriend? Why wouldn’t it be?” She quizzes you. She makes a very good point. You huff in defeat and walk to the bathroom to change.

As you exit, Vi has a hoard of blankets in her hands that you can only see her feet and the top of her head.

“Let's make a fort!” you hear her muffled cheers. “Ok, you get started, I’ll order pizza.” You smile.

You walk into the living room to tell her that the pizza should arrive soon. “You look cozy,” She says as you enter the family room. Violet runs and jumps into your arms, giving you a big hug. “So do you, baby Munson.” You giggle. After the fort was constructed and too many slices of pizza were consumed, you start painting one another nails. Violet Rose chose her favourite colour for you, purple, not surprisingly… and you chose pink for her. “I’m really happy you’re my dad's girlfriend.” She says while stuffing her face with a brownie. “I am, too.” you try not to blush. “He is a lot happier now you’re here.” She spews out nonchalantly. “What makes you say that?” You question. “He is always humming now; sometimes, I’ll catch him humming your songs. And he is playing the guitar more and writing love songs.” She shrugs her shoulders. “How would you know he is writing love songs?” You look at her quizzically. “I went into his music room and saw them on the table! One of them was titled Forever My Angel! Wanna see!” her eyes go wide god, they are just like her father's. “No, sweetheart, I wouldn’t want to see something he isn’t ready to show me.” You continue to paint her other hand even though you're screaming at yourself for not peaking. “Oh, and he lets me get away with not doing my chores as much, annnnnd he told me a secret. Oh no! I wasn’t supposed to tell you that! Oops!” she covered her mouth with both hands, making the nail brush paint across her fingers. “A secret, huh? Your Daddy talking about me when I’m not around?” Your heart swelled at the thought.

The lines of what was real and what was fake were becoming extremely blurred. Violet Rose nodded hesitantly. “It’s okay, don’t tell me, if it is supposed to be a secret, then it will stay a secret.” You wipe off the excess polish off of her fingers.

The rest of the night was filled with Disney princess movies, more junk food, and pre-teen romance quizzes; according to yours, you were destined to be with Harry Styles, and Violet was most compatible with Ross Lynch. Time flew by with Violet; after you cleaned up your mess, you snuggled back into the fort with her to put on the next movie. She chose the Disney movie Brave and said it was one of her favourites. You haven’t even noticed the time when you put on the movie; it was already quarter to midnight, and Eddie still wasn’t home.

Eddie walked into his house at 12:49 p.m. He had a whole speech prepared about how sorry he was, that they were on a roll and couldn’t stop recording until it was perfection. Eddie followed the sound of the TV calling your name a few times, but with no luck, you didn’t answer. Eddie rounded the corner to see the tented blankets and the couch cushions disassembled. He skimmed to himself and walked around to see if you guys were still in there. Sure enough, he sees both of you tucked up into one another, sleeping. Eddie’s heart swelled; he couldn’t picture a more perfect thing to come home to. It also didn’t escape him that you had on that old Corroded Coffin shirt, their first-ever tour merchandise. Eddie wanted to crawl in and be there with the two of you, but he thought better than to disrupt you. You were probably exhausted. You looked so peaceful he didn’t want to wake you, so he let you sleep.

You wake up the following day to the smell of pancakes and a massive crick in your neck. You open your eyes to a sheet suspended above your head. What the? The reality of where you are hits you. As your bones and joints start popping and cracking, you slowly shuffle out of the fort and make your way to the kitchen.

You could hear Eddie and Violet Rose singing Sweet Caroline. When you rounded the corridor, you saw Eddie had a wooden mixing spoon aimed at Violet like a microphone. You take in the sight and let out a small giggle.

“Good morning, Sunshine.” Eddie grinned at you.“Good morning,” you replied sheepishly. Was he annoyed you spent the night?

“Vi, go brush your teeth before you eat,” Eddie insisted.

He was plating the pancakes, and you glued over the counter it looked like an assortment of plain, chocolate chip, and blueberry.

“I’ll bet ten grand that kid didn’t brush them last night.” He winked at you over his shoulder. “Sorry,” You nervously bit your thumbnail and sat on the barstool. “I am only teasing you, Angel; I’m very grateful you watched over her last night.” He slid a pancake on your plate.

“I’m sorry for spending the night. I didn’t plan on it. You should have woken me up.” You fiddled with the hem of Eddie’s shirt you borrowed. “Nah, doll face, couldn’t do that to you; you were a literal Angel sleeping in my clothes…” Eddie bit his lip, eyeing you up and down.

“I’m sorry, out of all the things I forgot to pack for a slumber party, and Vi said it was okay, especially because I’m your “girlfriend,” You air quoted. “Mi casa es tu casa.” Eddie leaned back on the counter, spreading his arms wide and showing you his home.

“Well, um, thank you.” you tuck a piece of tussled hair behind your ear. “I should be the one thanking you, sweetheart. Truly owe you one, big time.” He sat down on the stool beside you. “It was my pleasure. Turns out being your fake girlfriend is more fun than I thought,” you said in a hushed tone, just in case Violet Rose had already come back down the stairs.

Eddie cleared his throat. He hated that this was all still supposed to be fake when he was catching feelings. He was one big fat simp for you. The guys don’t let him forget it. He talks about you when he is with them; he’s even writing songs about you. You’ve become his muse, saving grace, and Angel and he will eventually win you over. He had to, or else it would kill him if he didn’t…

“I, uh, shit… I couldn't have asked for a better person to be my fake girlfriend.” He shook his head. Way to play it cool, Munson.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

It’s been over 4 months since your deal with Eddie was signed, and nothing has died down. Both you and Eddie are being individually followed by the paparazzi when you’re out doing regular things, like when you’re running errands or when he is picking up Vi from school.

"Roger suggested we go on a shopping date together. Can you help me pick an outfit for Corroded Coffin's album release party this weekend?" You convince Eddie to go out shopping with you. Anyone who is anyone will be there. The guest list is star-studded, and it was a crucial night, not only to solidify your “relationship” with the public as you would be showing your support for your man but also to Eddie. He was very nervous about what everyone would think was the first new music they released in almost a decade. You being there for him meant everything.

Walking down the streets of Hollywood hand in hand, not missing the distinct clicks of the cameras, you enter the designer boutique. “So what’s the vibe for the party?” you question, skimming some dresses hanging on the wall. “Hmmm, I guess, metal…obviously. Dark, electric, sexy.” He hummed into your ear. An electric current coursed through your veins and down your spine. “Ok, not usually my go-to look, but I can make it work.” You whisper.

“You can make anything work.” Eddie slid a finger around your shoulder, moving your hair out of the way and down your back, stopping to rest it on your tailbone. “Hi, how can I help you today?” the salesperson greets the two of you. “We are here to find my girl an outfit for this weekend,” Eddie quickly replies. The way he says my girl shouldn’t get you as worked up as it does. You knew he was just putting it on. “Brilliant! what’s the occasion?” They ask with a smile. You rest your hand on Eddie’s chest, and you can feel his heart racing. “This sexy guy's album release party, have to look extra good to let him know how proud I am.” You look up to Eddie, staring down at you with a smile plastered to his face. After telling them more about the event, the floor worker shows you around and helps pick a few options. Eddie is sat by the changing rooms, champagne in hand, waiting for your little fashion show. You show him outfit after outfit, but none of them are working you like you wanted, until the last one.

You looked at yourself in the changing room mirror. You wore a Dolce and Gabbana sheer black lace corset that was practically lingerie and a tight black leather mini skirt that showed off all the right curves paired with thigh-high shiny black stiletto boots. This was 100% the winner, and you wanted it to surprise Eddie. “You coming out, Princess or do you need my help?” Eddie giggled into his champagne glass.

“Nope, you’re not seeing this until Saturday.” You stared to undress. “What, that’s not fair.” You could hear the pout in his voice. “I promise it will be Corroded Coffin approved.” You swing open the curtain, showing you are back in your back dressed in your signature pastel-coloured pallet. “I think I should at least get to see what I’m buying for you,” Eddie’s hand resting on the small of your back, leading you to the checkout counter. “You’re not paying for it?” You question him, confused. “Yes, I am.” He stops at the counter.

You place your clothes down and reach for your wallet, but Eddie is already handing over his black card before you can even unzip it. You open your mouth to protest, but Eddie is giving you that don’t be a brat look. “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do this.” You sigh. “Just want to take care of my girl.” He places a kiss on the top of your head.

There he goes again with those words that make your knees feel like jello. “The both of you are seriously so cute; thank you for shopping; enjoy the party!” The sales clerk waves you goodbye, and you do your best not to wobble with your Bambi knees.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The Party is in full swing by 9:30 p.m., and you’re running a bit late due to your hair and makeup stylists; you have texted Eddie an apology, and he tells you not to stress. You leave the car at 9:55 p.m. and into the event with no issues. The paparazzi cameras flash, and you smile and give your name to the doorman.

“Ah yes, here you are, our special guests plus one. Go right on in. I’m sure it won’t be hard to find them.” He gave you a wink as you passed by.

Inside, it looked like a vampire's nightclub. All black, everything with gold and red accents, the lights were dim and moody. You definitely dressed the part. You had on the outfit you bought at the boutique, matched with a matte smoked-out dark eyeshadow with a glossy red lip and a slicked-back updo. You clutched your bag, grabbed a glass of whatever the servers were handing out on the silver trays and scanned the room for your date. Like the doorman said, you spotted him instantly. He was on an elevated platform with the rest of the band, mingling with the other VIP guests.

You approached the roped-off area, and the big security guard asked for your name. “No need, she’s with me.” Eddie let him know and stepped aside. Eddie took your hand to help you up the stairs. His eyes scanned you, and he subconsciously licked his lips as he blatantly checked you out. “I’m not even mad that you’re late, you look… wow… delicious, shit-no-I mean, incredible.” Eddie scolds himself. “Thank you, handsome; you look delicious yourself.” You kiss his cheek and give a one-arm hug hello.

“You think I’m joking, Princess? I’m not.” He whispers in your ear, making the chills come back to your skin. “Come, I want you to meet the band.” He guides you to sit with the rest of them. “Angel, this is Gareth, Jeff and Felix” You give a small wave, awestruck at who you’re meeting. “It’s so nice to meet you guys. My parents are huge fans, I grew up with your music in the house practically 24/7.”

“Way to make us feel old Angel.” Eddie leaned in and stroked your back. “I really don’t mean to.” You pout, not thinking. Eddie wants to kiss the pout right off your face, but not now; you will have lots of time for that later. “It’s nice to meet you, Angel,” Felix smiles.

You thought of correcting him and giving him your actual name, but you liked this newfound name Eddie has given you; it’s cute and makes you think of him whenever you hear the word. “So, how did you and Eddie meet?” Jeff asks, sitting back on the black velvet booth bench. You didn’t know if they knew or not? Did he tell them this was fake? You stutter a bit before Eddie takes over. “We met at her meet and greet when I took Violet Rose to her concert.” Simple, and the truth. “Your concert? So you some kind of singer,” Gareth questioned.

You weren’t offended, you didn’t expect them to know who you were, hell, you didn’t expect someone like Eddie to know who you were either. “Hey man, don’t be a dick” Eddie tightened his grip around your waist, his fingers buried into the soft flesh that made your skin tingle.

“Baby, it’s fine! They aren’t really my demographic.” You giggle, finally taking a sip of what seemed to be champagne in the black glass flute. Eddie's eyes blow wide open at the pet name, not very subtle Munson.

You continue speaking after your first sip. “Yeah, I’m a singer; I just finished my first headliner tour.” You smile, proud of your accomplishment.

“Angel here has the most beautiful voice you’ve ever heard, give them a few bars .” Eddie was proud and not a fake proud. He wanted to show you off and stake his claim. This feeling was so new to him, in his younger days he would just be with another pretty face but none of them ever made him feel like you do. When you were near, he always wanted to be touching you, never wanting to let you out of his sight, not in a creepy overbearing way but in a way that he was proud to be seen with you.

“Never seen you this smitten before, Munson did not think I would see the day.” Felix chimed in. “I really thought you were catfishing this poor ol’man. Nice to see you’re actually real. I couldn’t believe it when he told us he was dating someone. It's been years since Sarafina!” Gareth laughs. You snap your head to look at Eddie beside you and back at Gareth. “Did you just say Sarafina?” Your eyes bug out of your skull. Sarafina as in superstar runway model, academy award-winning actress Sarafina?! “What the fuck, Gareth!” Eddie scolds along with the other two bandmates.

“Oops,” Gareth shrinks back into his chair. “No more drinks for you, man.” Jeff takes away his glass of whiskey. “Is that Violet Rose’s mom?!” It's all clicking for you, of course; that gorgeous little girl’s mother is the most beautiful woman on the planet; she looks just like her!

Eddie can see the wheels in your head spinning. “She doesn’t know who her mom is, so please don’t say anything to her.” Eddie pleads. “Of course.” You grab Eddie’s hand and give it a squeeze. “Thank you.” He gives a small smile. “You dated Sarafina?” you half-whisper. “It was a long time ago. We were young and so dumb. We were partying so much I hardly even remember that week. Vi wasn’t planned. Sara didn’t want a kid, so she asked me to keep it hush-hush so she could live normally after the baby was born. No one knows except our inner circle.” Eddie sighed. You were surprised he was divulging all of this to you. Was it to make you feel better? Or was it to protect Vi? Probably the latter.

“Your secret is safe with me; I would do anything to protect that little pumpkin.” You smiled. Eddie felt his heart swell at the way you spoke about his baby girl; she is the light of his whole life, and for you to protect her made Eddie’s admiration for you grow tenfold. “Looks like you got yourself a keeper, Eds.” Jeff smiles at you and his best friend. “Yeah, I picked a good one.” He kisses your cheek, and you can’t help but feel butterflies.

As the night went on, several more drinks were had, and more dancing was done, more so you than Eddie. He mostly sat back and watched you sway your hips in that tiny dress that hardly covered your ass and those heels that made your legs look long and mouthwatering. He had to keep conscious not to pop a boner in the club, his unforgiving leather pants would not aid him.

You can feel Eddie eye fucking you as you dance the night away. The music was blasting, the alcohol was flowing, not enough to where you were drunk but enough to have a nice buzz that your inhibitions were slowly lifting, giving you the confidence to pull Eddie up to dance with you. “No, no, no, Sweetheart, I am excellent right here.” Eddie shakes his head.

“Eddie pleeeeeeease, I have no one else to dance with” You gave Eddie that little pout he cannot seem to resist. He throws his head back in defiance and gives in you your request letting you pull him out of the padded booth and into your arms. You start off slow to ease him into it. He is awkward and stiff. You see why he didn’t want to get up. A small giggle leaves your lips, and Eddie groans. “This is why I don’t dance, I don’t know how” He pinches his brows looking down at you.

“Come on, baby, you’re musically inclined; just find the beat and move your hips with mine.” You spin around so your ass is to his crotch, grab both hands and pin them to your hips so he can follow along. Eddie is stiffer than a board. He needed to loosen up, but how can he when you’re pressed up to him so close like this? He was struggling not to pop a boner just watching you. He can feel your cheeks pressed up against his shaft. He can smell your strawberry shampoo mixed with your vanilla cinnamon perfume, tingling his senses. He is snapped out of his trance when he feels your ass is sweeping across his dick.

“Eddie, you need to follow my lead. Move your hips.” You look over your shoulder to see his jaw clenched, eyes black with lust. Your hips slow down, dipping from side to side until Eddie starts to follow along. You smile up at him when he finally gets a feel for it. You grid your ass into the partial hard-on you can feel him sporting. You bring an arm up to rest on the back of his neck, and you can feel a brave hand run up from your hip to your middle and back down again. Eddie is feeling more confident. He can’t believe he is in a club grinding with you at his age, but hell, this is Corroded Coffin’s night, and he will live it up.

The song went on, and Eddie's semi didn’t take long to become a full-fledged chubby. “I don’t think you understand your power over me, Angel.” You can feel Eddie’s head dipped lower, his hot breath masking your ear. The heat rose to your cheeks as he dug his hips into the flesh of your ass, really showing you what he means. Your head is spinning too much to think of a witty comeback, so you rest your head on his shoulder, pushing your hips further into Eddie's crotch.

“Do you realize what you’re doing to me, little one?” His breath is hot on your neck; you feel his lips graze over that sensitive spot, and you moan. Eddie doesn’t hear it over the loud base but knows he is riling you up. You quickly turn around to face him, surprising him with your sudden movement. You gently graze your hand up Eddie’s inner thigh to his stomach, grazing his hard cock.

“I think I have a big idea of what I’m doing to you.” It wasn’t hard to miss. You could feel how big he was through his pants. Your mouth watered at the thought of what he could do with it. Eddie pinned your hands against him.. “There you go again, teasing me.” He growled through gritted teeth. “My mouth can do a better job of teasing you than my words can.” You speak into the crook of his neck, testing the waters, and you give a small nibble, leaving a lipstick stain.

Before you knew what was happening, Eddie was pulling you back to the VIP section; tossed you your purse and pulled you out of the club doors. His grip is strong not enough to hurt but it is firm. Not another word had been spoken as you exit through the back. A black car pulls up and Eddie opens the door for you and guides you into the back seat. Dread starts to fill you, you’ve gone too far, and he wants you to leave. Why can’t you just stick to the stupid contract?

“Where, too?” the driver asks as you get in. Eddie gives the man your address, and your heart sinks; you feel the tears well in your eyes. You feel stupid for ever thinking this was more than a contractual obligation for him. Fuck, you think back about earlier in the night and remember that he had arguably the most beautiful woman on the planet before you, so why would he ever settle for you? The car door shuts like it is the final nail in the coffin. Ironic, isn’t it?

You’re so distracted, eyes blurry from fighting back tears, that you don’t see Eddie run around the other side of the car and let himself in. Your trance is broken when you hear a second door close, and you snap your head up. “What are you doing?” You try and calm your voice, not to let him see your tremble. His hands are clenched in a fist. “Taking you home.” Your shoulders sank, and not another word was said for the rest of the way home.

You get out of the car before Eddie can run around the side to open it for you; when you turn, he rolls his eyes, and your heart sinks even lower than you thought possible.

The walk from the parking lot to the elevator to your front door was dead silent. Eddie shifted uncomfortably from side to side, fist still balled up as you rode up to the 16th floor. You unlock your door, step in, and whisper a quick thank you and goodnight before Eddie stops you. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“I-well-umm-” “Don’t think you’re getting off that easy, sweetheart,” He whispers, tucking a piece of fallen hair behind your ear. It makes a shiver run down your spine. He was so close, close enough to kiss. “I’m sorry I’ve taken things too far. I overstepped your boundaries. I understand we can stop pretending now. There aren’t any more cameras.” You hold back a sniffle. “Does this feel like I’m pretending?” He glides your hand down his middle over his pants to the hard bulge between his legs; a soft gasp leaves your throat when Eddie waists no time melting his lips onto yours. He continues to kiss you as he walks you back into your apartment. He kicks the door shut and fiddles with the lock behind his back until he hears a click, not breaking contact with your lips the entire time. You melted into his touch; the taste of his lips was addicting, and you never wanted to stop kissing this man. “Eddie, what is happening?” You ask as he breaks the contact and starts to kiss down your neck, hitting that spot that made your knees buckle so hard he has to catch you. “What is happening, little one, is that you’re going to take me to your bedroom, and I will show you how you’ve been making me feel for the last five months. What will happen is that I will have my way with you, understood?” Your heart flutters. You dumbly nod your head. The moment you’ve been hoping for is finally coming to fruition.

“Now go into the room and get ready for me, I’ll be there in just a minute.” You turn and walk into your room and throw all of your clothes left out from getting ready into your closet not caring they’re tossed haphazardly, that will be a tomorrow problem. You check yourself out in your floor-length mirror and fix your hair and lift up your boobs in to corset before Eddie walks back in. You turn and think of where to go? Stay standing in the room? No, that’s awkward. Should you sit on the bed? Do you lay down? Kneel? Yes, kneel. You want to show him how good you are at listening to him.

You get down on the floor at the foot of your bed facing the door, and Eddie walks in a few seconds later, looking like the definition of sex. You can smell his intoxicating cologne as he gets closer. He’s pulled back his hair into a low bun at the nape of his neck. His button-up shirt is now unbuttoned and untucked from his tight black slacks. Your mouth waters at the signs of Eddie’s skin being exposed to you. His “dad bod,” which wasn’t really a “dad bod,” was still quite fit, not as fit was when he was in his 20s, but it was doing it for you. You notice how his chest and shoulders were filled out when he stepped closer to you, letting the shirt fall to the floor behind him. “Ohhh oh oh- Look at you, such a good girl for me,” he praised as he took a few steps closer to you. You subconsciously wiggled your hips when you heard him continue to speak. “You want to be a good girl for me, don't you?” The back of Eddie’s hand gently stroked your cheek as he looked down at you. You could see the hunger in his eyes as you looked up at him. He wants this just as much as you do, maybe even more. “Answer me, Angel.” he tilted your chin up towards him. “Yes,” you answer. “Yes, what?” His tone was firm, and it made your pussy tingle. “Yes…Sir?” You tested the waters.

“Pretty and smart.” he bends down and brings your face up to meet him halfway to kiss you; you can’t help but moan into his mouth. “Tell me you want this as much as I do; I need to know.” His chest heaved up and down with anticipation. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you in the moment,” you admit. He lets go of your face, and you sink back to your kneeling position. “Let’s see if you were all talk earlier, hmm? I’m going to put that mouth to good use.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants tantalizingly slow. You raise to your knees and pull his pants out of the way, and he lets you this time.

“You want to be my good girl, don't you?” He stroked your cheek and bit your lip. “Yes, that’s all I want.” You lean into his touch.

“Then show me, Angel” Eddie takes his throbbing cock out of his briefs, and your eyes go wide at the sight of him. What first caught your attention was that he is pierced. The silver ball sticking out of the tip was the first thing that caught your eye, not the fact that he was big, long, thick and veiny. The red tip leaking pre cum, just begging for attention. Intimidating was one way to put it. You hadn’t been with anyone in a few years. A hesitant hand gently grips his thick shaft; your hand looks tiny compared to his size, “Don’t be scared, little one. I won’t hurt you.” He looks down at you, stroking your cheek.

You tentatively kiss the tip with your glossy, red lips. Your lips catch the silver ball, and you twirl it around on your tongue. Eddie, let’s put a moan of pleasure, and it entices you to keep going. You swirl your tongue over the tip even more, taking in the metallic, briny, salty taste that was wholly Eddie. You bob your head lower to take in more of him, enjoying the weight of him on your tongue. You can feel the vein under his shaft brush against your wet lip as you slowly drag your head back. Eddie places a hand on the back of your head, and you look up at him. His eyes were glazed over with lust. Eddie could not believe he was here with you right now. “Fucking hell, Princess, you’re taking me so well.” Eddie praised. Your siren eyes looked up at him as your plump red lips swallowed him even further.

How he looks down at you makes you want to do so well for him, to be his good girl. You take him as far as your throat will let you. You breathe through it, using your hand to grip the rest of the exposed shaft. Your hand and head moved in tandem; it was messy and hot. Your smudged lipstick rubbed off on him, only making the tip look more angry.

“I need you. Bed. Now.” Eddie's strong arms lift you up by your armpits, and he tosses you onto the bed. You giggle when you land with a soft thump on your hands and knees. A strong hand grazes down your back, unzipping the designer corset top. You shimmy the straps down and top it haphazardly into the room. Eddie’s hand traces down your back to the curve of your ass. A small slap echos the quiet room, your back arches into his hand, and you let out a mmmpf. Eddie smirks as he kicks off his pants so he’s fully naked. You turn over, propping yourself on your elbows as your eyes rake him in in his entirety. His thick muscles made you feel tiny in his presence but also made you feel protected and safe with him here in front of you. You were drinking in his tattoos covering his chest and arms; he has a large snake running down his rib cage around his abs, ending just below his happy trail, which you now see for the first time.

“Take a picture, sweet thing. It'll last longer.” He smirked before crawling over you, and you rolled your eyes in return. He placed both hands beside your head as he leaned in to kiss your mouth, then moved to kiss down your neck, hitting that same spot again, making you sigh with pleasure. “Let me hear you, sweetheart,” he coos into your ear. That oh-so-familiar feeling of your throbbing in your core sends you into a frenzy. You moan out his name as he slithers down your chest.

“Prettiest set of tits I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles into the swell of your breast. You arch your back into Eddie’s mouth as his hot tongue flicks your nipple. Eddie loves that you’re so reactive to him. He latched onto your second nipple, swirling his tongue around until the little peak formed. He continued kissing down your stomach, kissing every inch until he found the hem of your skirt. “You’ve been teasing me with this all night, Angel.” He tucks his thick-ringed fingers around your skirt's waistband and rips it down your legs, taking your panties with it. You let out a small yelp at the speed at which you’re now naked.

He finally reaches where you’ve been neglected the most. He kisses your mound softly before he sits back on his heels to take you all in. “I knew you would have such a pretty little pussy. Open up for me, baby. Let me see.” His eyes felt like they were burning into your soul. You couldn’t look away as you slowly obeyed his request. You slid your knees apart, opening up for Eddie. It is like he has you in a trace; you want to do everything and anything he asks of you.

“Oh Angel, Look how beautiful you look, all spread out and ready for me. You’re such a good girl getting so wet just for me. You're all mine, aren't you?” Eddie kissed down your inner thigh, agonizingly slow until he broke contact just as he reached your dripping core. “Don’t make me ask you again, Princess. You won’t like what happens if I have to ask you again.” He warns. You rush out your answer to his question.

“Yes, Edd-” He gives you a look of warning. “Yes, Sir-” you correct yourself. “-it’s only for you OH ooooh,” Eddie latches his mouth onto your cunt without hesitation. He is a man starved, starved for 6 years, but who’s counting? It’s hard to date, never mind sleep with people as a single Dad with a younger child.

“That’s it, baby, let me hear you scream my name.” Eddie slips a thick finger into your dripping hole. “OH! Eddie! Baby, yes, just like that!” He grazes your velvety walls in a spot you didn’t know existed until this moment. Eddie continuously pumps his fingers in and out, making your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Eddie moan into your pussy. The vibrations from his mouth on your clit send you over the edge, your walls clench around his fingers, and the rush in your pussy consumes your body as all your muscles tense.

“That's it, little one, that's it, just let go, let yourself feel good.” You felt so taken care of; this is all new for you. Your past partners never looked after you like Eddie is doing. They always chased after their own orgasms, leaving you feeling used. Overwhelmed by the feeling of being taken care of, a tear escapes your lashes, and you quickly wipe it away, embarrassed that you’re crying during sex with someone for the first time. Eddie slithers his way back up to kiss you. “Don’t worry, baby, I got you,” He stroked your cheek, leaning in and giving you a head-spinning kiss. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. I liked it, I liked it a lot,” You choke back.

“You want to stop?” He cocks his head, his big brown eyes looking down at you with concern. You shake your head no. God no. “I need you to say it, baby.” He strokes a piece of hair behind your ear. “I need you, Eddie, I’ve waited so long.” You grind your hips into Eddie, and his head falls back with a groan. “You have a condom?” He asks.

You sit up and dig through your nightstand. You swore there were a few left in there somewhere. “I have an IUD,” you mention while rifling through the messy drawer. The thought of fucking you raw makes Eddie’s head spin. The feel of your velvety walls clenching down on him almost made him say fuck it. Then, reality slams on the brakes hard because the last time he did that, he ended up a single dad with no idea how to raise a kid.

“Ah ha!” your voice snaps him back from his thoughts, and he sees you wave the wrapped condom by your head. He snatches it from your hand and puts it on himself. “I’m going to make you feel so good,” He growls in your ear. “Please, Sir, I need it, I need you.” You beg as he runs his tip through your folds; the ridged metal of his cockring makes your body jerk into him. “You’re being such a good girl for me, using your words.” Eddie slowly breaks through your barrier and slides the tip into your tight hole. The burn made you tense; it had been so long, and he was much bigger than you were used to. He was halfway in, and you felt full already. Your grip on his biceps was so tight that your nails created half-moon indents in his skin. “I need you to relax, Angel. I’ll take care of you” You tried to loosen your vice grip on Eddie’s cock.

“I’m so proud of you for taking me so well, such a good girl,” Eddie spoke when he finally bottomed out. He felt you clench down on him when he spoke. He started to move his hips slowly, building up speed with each thrust, bottoming out each time.

“You like it when I talk to you, Angel? I can feel it.” You nod your head, so consumed by the feeling of Eddie taking over your whole body that you can’t speak. “Oh, what’s this? My baby can’t talk anymore? I haven’t even gotten started, and you’re already been fucked dumb, huh?” He chides.

“Please- I- keep going.” The speed at which Eddie was thrusting into you was astronomical. The hollow sound of skin slapping skin filled the emptiness of your quiet apartment. Hands latching on to one another, Eddie pins your arms above your head, lips bruising, teeth clashing, tongues at war. Legs hiked, skin hot and slick with sweat. “Your fucking cunt was made for me, fuck, you’re perfect,” Eddie praised.

There was no one else that existed at this point in time, it was you and Eddie together as one. The mind-numbing pleasure the two of you gave each other devoured your minds. He was pussy drunk, consumed by lust, want, and need. Eddie was close to his breaking point, but he had to get you there first. “You take my cock so well, Angel. Give me one more, just for me; you're doing such a good job.” Eddie praised, and once again, he could feel you clamp down on his cock. “More, please I can’t”

“Yes, you can.” Eddie flips you onto your hands and knees and thrusts back into you, once again hitting that spot you didn’t know existed. “Oh. fuck. Me. yes!” You cry out with each thrust. You could feel the build with each thrust. Eddie's hands tightly gripped your ass, bringing it down on his cock, using you to fuck him as he chased his pleaser along with yours. “Give it to me, baby I know you can tell me what you need,” Eddie gritted out.

“Touch me!” You cry. Eddie wraps a hand around your tummy and down to your clit. The connection of his rough, calloused fingers lit the string of white-hot pleasure that fuelled your body. “I can’t, it’s too much,” you cry. Your hands were gripping the bed sheets so hard your knuckles were hurting. The vibrations pulsed through you, and you had to scream into the pillow to muffle the sounds. Eddie grips your hair into his fist to pull your head back. “Don’t shy away from me now. Let me hear you.” His thrust became deeper; you didn’t even think it was possible.

“Please, please, please!” You could feel the sensation building and building, and it wasn’t going away. Eddie let go of your hair, and your head fell into the mattress. Eddie's fingers dug into your left hip so hard you’re sure there will be bruises where his fingers are. His right hand never left your clit.

“DON’T STOP PLEASE,” you beg him. He didn’t slow down. He kept pounding into you. The feeling was building more and more. It was so good that you couldn’t help it. “Come on baby, I can feel it; you’re getting tighter, cum for me.” His words broke your dam, a silent scream was caught in your throat. Your body trembled beneath him. Spasming under him as he road out your orgasm, not stopping. The feeling was so intense. You’ve never cum this hard before. It was becoming so intense that you were starting to become overstimulated. You reach back for Eddie to grab onto something, anything. You find his wrist and beg him to stop. It was too good, “please, I can’t,” you gasped. “oh, little baby, can’t take anymore. You were begging for more, and I’m giving you more.” he kept pounding into you until your third orgasm built up again. You cried out from the pleasure again as tears streamed down your face. The feeling he was giving you was so intense, so overwhelming. He finally released his fingers from your clit, and noticed it was so hot to the touch. You felt Eddie’s thrusts become more and more uneven as he shot his load into the condom.

After a few minutes of silent recovery, only the sounds of both your heavy panting and slight sniffles of you trying your best to pull yourself together, Eddie was the one who broke the silence. “Holy shit, I hope that wasn’t too much, I’m sorry if it was. I get carried away. That side of me has been locked away for so long that I- are you crying?! No baby, please. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Eddie was frantic. You cut him off mid-apology with a kiss to let him know they were good tears.

“Eddie stop I’m okay, I’m not hurt, I’m not upset, I just- fuck this is so embarrassing.” You hurried your face into his hard chest. “Tell me, Angel, it’s only me.” He stroked the back of your head. You let out a deep sigh and let out your confession. “No one has ever taken care of me like you did, and I don’t know what came over me. I never felt so cared for, and it was really nice. I don’t know.” Your mind was racing; this wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t supposed to be real, but it sure as hell felt real. “I’ll always be here to take care of you. That’s my job.” He kissed the top of your head. “You’re just saying that under contractual obligation.” You half joke, breaking your own heart. “Don’t say that.” Eddie pulled out from under him to look you in the eyes. “This has nothing to do with that piece of paper we signed.” He pointed between the two of you.

Your heart fluttered with anticipation. “What do you mean?” you wiped away the tear stains from your eyes. “My feelings for you were never fake, Angel.” He sighs. “What?” You sit up to get a better look at him. “Contract be damned, I care for you. I want to be with you for real.” He took your hand. “When did your feelings for me become real?” You asked. “The night we first met.” He moved in closer, noses touching. “I don’t think I can fake being in a relationship with you anymore…” Eddie's heart sank into his stomach. He knew this was taking it too far. “Somewhere along the way, my fake feelings became real for you. I want to be with you for real,” you finish.

Eddie can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, the relief he feels, the way his heart dropped into his stomach at the thought of losing you. The thought of losing him was at the back of your mind, too; only a few more months and the contract would be up. You had to focus on your career; that was the whole point, but he made you feel like no one had ever been able to. You feel Eddie shift, and it breaks you out of your spiral.

“I’m crazy for you” Kissing you quickly before getting up, he let you know he was going to get a wet cloth to help clean the both of you up. When he padded back into the room, he not only had the towel but also brought your makeup wipes and your moisturizer from the bathroom, your heart fluttered that he remembered your conversation about how you told him to never sleep with makeup on, and no matter how drunk you’d get you always took your makeup off before bed.

“Thank you, Eddie, for everything,” you sighed. “Of course, Angel. I’ll do anything and everything for you.” he nuzzled his head into your neck, and you giggled softly as the scruff of his beard tickled you. You yawned, “Get some sleep, Baby.” he stroked your hair, and you fell asleep within seconds.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

“Things seem to be heating up between music royalty’s hottest new couple”

*scroll*

“Corroded Coffin’s front man-”

*scroll*

Videos of you and Eddie dancing not so PG were swarming the internet, TikTok, Instagram, and Twitter. You couldn’t escape it. In retrospect, the plan was working. However, all the attention the two of you have been receiving can’t all be positive. You had Facebook moms coming after you saying you were a slut, and a bad influence on your younger audience; you had to be a role model and not slut yourself out like some whore.

You come across more headlines: Things look more than cozy for Corroded Coffin’s notorious Eddie Munson and the up-and-coming Princess of Pop!

You huff, and a large hand emerges from under the tangled sheets and grabs your phone. “Hey!” You huff. “It’s too early for that bullshit,” he grumbles, pulling you closer.

Waking up next to Eddie made you feel safe like nothing could no longer hurt you. Neither the words nor the Karen’s of the internet could dull the light growing between you and Eddie. “Good morning to you, too,” you mumble into the crook of his neck. You left soft kisses that turned into more heated kisses on his thick neck. He let you keep going, sucking harder. You left a purple bruise in your wake. You pulled away with a not-so-convincing “oops.”

“You trying to mark me, baby, make sure everyone knows I’m taken?” Eddie rolls you on your back, and you sink into the mountain of pillows and blankets that dawn your king-size bed. You hum in agreement while nodding, “Can’t have anyone else hitting on my man.” You strain your neck up to kiss him; morning breath be damned, you need to feel his mouth on you once more. Eddie’s heart fluttered at your words. He finally had you, truly had you, and you weren’t going anywhere, contract be damned. “You’re insatiable” Eddie pulled away, cock already standing proudly; you can feel it dig into your thigh.

“I’d say you are the insatiable one, Sir” You ground your lower half up into him to create some more friction. “Ohhh you have no idea what you’ve just done little one. Eddie used his skilled hands to spread around your arousal, finding your clit in seconds. You arched into his touch

“Fuck you- you’re so good at this.” You sucked in a breathy moan. Eddie laughed to himself “Is that right baby? Is the next thing you’re going to post, get you a man who can finger pussy as good as he plays guitar” he slips his thick fingers in and curled them up hitting that spot. “EDDIE!” You half scolded him, half moaned from the feeling.

“That’s it, say my name, let the whole building know who’s fucking you” his hands were pumping in and of you at such a speed, your pussy clenched before you even knew what was happening. Eddie pulled out completely.

“Baby, no, please I was-” “Did I say you could cum” Eddie interrupted you. “No, Sir,” you shake your head. “You cum when I tell you to, got it?” “Yes, Sir,” you pout. “Don’t be a brat, wipe that pout from your face” This side of Eddie was making your pussy ache. He was so sexy, so dominant, you wanted him to take control. You needed him to take control,

“Sorry, Sir,” you apologized. “That’s better.” Eddie reached over to the bedside drawer, pulling out the last condom you had stored away. “remind me, I need to be getting about 30 more boxes of these,” he teased. Your eyes go wide at his suggestion. “I don’t think I can even walk now after last night. You’re going to have to carry me everywhere,” you laugh. “That’s the plan, Angel.” He spoke as he sunk back into you.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

A month into being Eddie Munson's real girlfriend, Corroded Coffin’s North American tour was starting. They have been slaving away with promotional photoshoots, rehearsals, and pushing their newest album. The feedback from their fans had been really positive; it still sounded like them but ultimately a bit more modern. They were accumulating younger fans as well. Their demographic had grown with this new release; more and more people were talking about them on social media, and videos of old shows had popped up on your feed. You were going down the rabbit hole; you couldn’t peel your eyes off all the videos of your boyfriend while on stage. The way he commanded the crowd, the way women would sneak past security and grab onto him… and he liked it. He would play into it, kissing them with full tongue, and jealousy was brewing within you, but you had to remember you were a child when all of the concert footage was taken.

Sure it happened all those years ago… but what about now? What would happen when he leaves you for the tour for the next 3 months? Long distance has not been your thing; paired with your trust issues in men, your mental state was frantic. Your past relationships were not ones to brag about.

Your Ex Charlie chipped away at your self-esteem; he had broken down your self-worth, gaslit the fuck out of you to the point that you believed in your heart of hearts that you would never be good enough to make it. You used to stay in bed for days when it was awful. The abuse you had gone through was something that you never spoke about in detail to anyone. The embarrassment you felt looking back at how much he was in control of you made you sick to your stomach.

Your internal monologue was running rampant. You had to turn it off before it was too late. You were almost in tears continuing to watch these videos of women throwing themselves at Eddie. You couldn't look away no matter how hard you tried. The way Eddie would entertain them, you dove in even further, googling old articles, old TMZ footage of him out with so many girls. There seemed to be a different one every month. The articles would explain how he was a womanizer and a playboy. He partied too much; his coke addiction was also the main topic of these articles. One he never disclosed to you.

This was bad; you were not okay. The first show is tonight. It’s kicking off in New York at MSG. You weren’t going to be there. You couldn’t handle the unknown of what he would do. Will he go back to his old ways when he is out touring again? It is so easy to fall back into old habits. Of course, women will still be throwing themselves at him, and nothing has been confirmed about your relationship in the media. He is a signalman, according to anyone who is concerned. Sure, you would be spotted together numerous times, but the paps never saw you kissing. The social media posts helped initially, but it’s been so long since you’ve posted anything, and the most the public had gotten were the videos of the two of you dancing. They probably thought you were just his little fuck-toy.

As you kept spiralling in deeper, you found that people were starting to speculate it was all a setup. You couldn’t stop the tears from welling in your eyes. The deeper you dug, the more you found. Newer articles would pop up throughout the weeks, and pictures of Eddie being spotted with a woman you did not recognize only sent you further into your spiral. You avoided his calls. You were in your head so much that you could no longer decipher reality from your own delusions about who she was and what they were doing.

Communication with Eddie over the past few weeks has been rough. He wasn't good with his phone as it is, and it wasn't aiding your intrusive demons scratching at your mind about the what-ifs?

Eddie could tell something wasn't right, that you had become distant from him. He just didn't have the time and energy. His age was catching up to him; performing and being on the road for weeks was not kind to Eddie. From all the Hotels to going back on the tour buses and staying up late, it was catching up to him. Even the band's personal trainer was having a hard time with Eddie. His health and the band members' health was her top priority. She was on top of everything they did. She was having them eat better and work out more to keep up the demanding schedule, but it was still gruelling to keep up with.

After each show, the adrenaline from the crowd died off as soon as Eddie the showers. In his heyday, he would stay up until five o'clock in the morning after some shows because he was so hyped by the crowd, or maybe that was the drugs? Whatever it was it was no longer the same for Eddie now. Exhaustion took over his body. He would sleep late, perform late and then repeat it all the next day. He missed you and Violet Rose more than anything. Life on the road can be lonely, and he would call VR every night before going on stage, no matter where he was.

Tonight was no different; they were in Montreal, Canada, about to head out when he FaceTime’d her and was really surprised to see you in the background cooking.

"Hi, Cupcake." You hear his hard voice rasp through the phone speaker. You freeze at the sound of his voice. You haven’t told him you've been coming over here every day to be with Vi. "Hi, Angel” You hear your name in a way that soothes you. You haven't had time to speak to him on the phone in a few days.

Your anxiety was consuming you. Not knowing what could be happening, you avoided speaking to him, afraid of a confession of him hooking up with a groupie or that woman you didn’t know. You were obsessed; you would scour all social media fields to find anything incriminating about him, but nothing ever came to light because nothing was happening. Eddie was swatting women and men off of him left and right; he wasn't even interested in them because they weren't you. He hasn't even had a chance to admit his feelings about missing you, but tonight, he would ensure it. He has been putting it off for too long; he needed you; he needed to speak with you. No more of this texting bullshit because that wasn't real to him.

"I'm going to call you after the show tonight, Angel." You hear him address you again. "Okay, Eds." The butterflies erupted in your stomach; you missed him so much it was starting to physically hurt, yet you were so scared of the unknown.

Unbeknownst to Eddie, you were spending the night at his house because Vi had begged you for another sleepover, and you wanted an excuse to sleep in Eddie's bed. You gave her nanny the night off when you arrived at the Munsons household. Around 10:00 p.m, you put Violet Rose to bed and ensured she brushed her teeth this time. There was a three-hour time difference between California and Montreal.

You were already tucked into his bed by 10:45 p.m. when Eddie called you your time. "Hi handsome," you answer the face time, it looks like he is lying in a hotel bed. "Hi, Sweetheart, it's so good to hear your voice." He sighed. Your worries melt the second you hear his voice. It's raspier than the hours previous; the shows were taking a toll on his vocal cords. "You should be on a vocal rest," you joke, "It's that bad, huh? You really don't want me talking to you?" He laughs. “I miss you,” it just slips out, you can’t keep the feeling down any longer, even with all of the doubts swimming in your mind because you knew in your heart that he wasn't like your ex in any capacity. You knew you were acting unhinged, you didn't want to scare him away. “I fucking miss you so much, Angel, it hurts to breathe. To know that you’re not in the crowd, that you won’t be waiting for me when I get off stage. I think I’m losing my mind.” He rubs his large hand down his face in frustration.

“I wish I was with you” You shuffle your bare arms out from under the covers “Are you in my bed?” A shit-eating grin forms on his face. “Maybe… Vi wanted to have another sleepover, who am I to deny that sweetheart?” you chide as wiggle your arms out of the covers.

“You’re killing me here, baby” he replied. “I might be naked too” It has been so long since you and Eddie last had sex. You were like rabbits when you were alone together. You had so much time to make up for, your sex life was not one to be denied.

An animalistic groan fell out of Eddie’s mouth. He was already shimming out of his pyjama pants before you could reply. “I can’t wait to have my way with you Little One.” Eddie props the phone on his nightstand and sits up to position himself in front of the phone. He is sitting there fully naked for you, his cock becoming stiffer by the second as he roughly tugs on it will one hand. “You’re so mean, teasing me like this. I want you in my mouth so bad.” You pout for him. “Fuck what a perfect pout you have, baby girl.” Eddie’s hand has slowed down, but it hasn’t stopped. His thick fingers were teasing himself in front of you and you.

“Come on baby, don’t hide from me, be a good girl. Show me.” You slowly lift the dark grey comforter off your chest, exposing yourself fully to Eddie. Your nipples were already peaked, and your pussy was already getting wet watching Eddie touch himself for you. “That’s my girl, touch yourself for me. Let me see.” You move your phone down lower so he can see you spread open for him.

You slowly work yourself up, lightly touching your clit; you dip your index and middle finger between your lips to gather up the slick to massage your precious bud. “You are already so wet for me, baby. I bet you could easily slip in your fingers for me.” Eddie’s grip never faltered. You could hear the smacking of wet skin coming from his end. “Fuck I wish you were here with me. It’s not the same. My fingers aren’t big enough.” you moan in frustration. “What are you saying, baby? No one can fuck you as good as I can? Not even yourself?” He smirks.

“Yes,” you whine out. “I’ll walk you through it. You want me to help you?” He asks. “Yes, Sir” You bite your lip. “You’re going to need both of your hands, so lean the phone on the nightstand baby.” You mimic his setup and sit on the edge of the bedside table for him. “Sucha a good girl. Now spread your legs for me, let me see all of you.” He pants. A shiver runs through you, straight to your clit when he speaks to you like this.

“First you’re going to tease yourself, I know you’re very good at that” He scoffs. “Asshole” you mumble under your breath “I know you’re not back talking me Princess.” His voice is clear and firm. “No Sir” you were being cheeky, and only because he wasn’t there to punish you. “Don’t smart mouth me” he warns. “No sir, I would never,” You say sarcastically, running your hands all over your body, showing Eddie exactly what he has been missing out on. “Fuck Angel, I thought I was supposed too in control.” He breaks for a moment.

“That’s what I want you to think, but the thing is baby… the woman is always in control” You slid one finger into your tight hole for Eddie. “Tell me, Sir, am I doing the right?” you pump your finger in and out a few times before adding a second. “Fu-uuck baby, a very good job.” Eddie gripped his cock with both hands now pumping himself, he needed to slow down if he wanted to last, but it just felt so good and you were being so so dirty for him. “You like it when I play with myself for you?” you ask moving your other hand so you could rub your clit, grinding your hips into nothing as you do so.

It dosn't take much, as a rush of pleasure rips through your body. You let a moan slip out, you were conscience that Violet Rose was just sleeping down the hall. “Yes pretty girl, let me hear those pretty sounds” He grits through his teeth. You can see one hand has moved down to play with his balls to mimic how you sucked on them. “Baby please, I want you so bad, ahhhh Eddie-fuck I-I-Eddie!” a wave of pleasure washed over your whole being, you’re coming whether Eddie allowed it or not. You collapse on your back as your body tense, forgetting for a second that you are still on the phone with Eddie.

“No, no, no baby girl come back, I need to see that pretty face, you have such a pretty face, let me see you please, I’m so close, come to me Angel” Your fog lifts slowly at the sound of Eddie’s voice begging you, calling out your name. You slowly sit back up to see and hear Eddie cuming in his hands. “Shit shit yes, take it, you’re such a good girl for me Angel” His chest heaves as he slowly comes down from his high. It is silent for a moment, to collect yourselves, before Eddie broke it.

“Why didn’t we do that sooner? The only thing I’ve been working within that picture you sent me of you in that fucking red dress” Eddie admitted. “You know porn exists…for free” You giggle. “Come on, baby! Give me a break here I’m trying to be romantic.” he wines. “There was nothing romantic about what came out of that filthy mouth of yours, rockstar” You laugh.

“Shut up” he laughs. “Maybe I can send you some more stuff to work with, and keep you tied over for the next few months.” The realization hits Eddie that he won’t be seeing you for a long time. Relationships were so hard to do while on tour but he will do everything in his power to keep you. He creates a self-reminder to send you flowers in the morning, he has been neglecting you, he knows. He needs to do better no matter how tired he is.

“Yea Angel that would be nice” He sighs. “I miss you,” you say as you snuggle back into his cozy bed. “I miss you more, I’m sorry I’ve been distant, that’s not fair to you.” He lays back down on the bed.

Those were the exact words you needed to hear from Eddie to put your mind to rest. “Yeah, I’ve been kinda driving myself insane if we are being honest.” You admit to him. “What do you mean Angel?” He questions. “Well I may have taken a deep dive into old footage of what Corroded Coffin used to get up to when you guys were on tour back in the day, and I saw some paparazzi pictures of you with that girl and I…” You avoid Edd’s eyes as you trail off.

“Oh baby, is that why you have been off? You don’t have to worry about that, I am not that guy anymore. I’ve grown up a lot since then, I don’t do drugs, I don’t party, I definitely don’t do random hookups because I’m a dad now, and I lo-like you more than you know.” he sighed.

“I’m sorry Eddie I didn’t mean to accuse you do anything, I get into my own head sometimes and my ex use to gaslight the fuck out of me to the point where I knew he was cheating but made me feel like I was going crazy. Having a healthy relationship is a new thing for me but I am working on myself, I promise.”

“I’ll do everything in my power to keep you Angel”

“Who was the girl Eddie?” you question.

“What girl?”

“She was tall, dark skin, beautiful, long curly hair, you were walking outside with her, she had a blue workout set on you were opening a door for her…”

“OH, that’s just Terra” He confirms

“Who’s Terra?” you question.

“She’s our personal trainer, we were walking into a gym with the guys. Honestly baby you have nothing to worry about, I would never cheat on you and to be honest she can be scary.”

His words were helping you settle down about everything.

“I believe you Eddie, Sweet dreams”

“Sweet dreams Angel”

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Corroded Coffin was in Las Vegas tonight on one of their last stops for the tour scheduled to wrap up this week. It had been a month since you admitted to Eddie your doubts, and things have been much better since that phone call. So you devised a plan to surprise Eddie by attending tonight's show. You arranged it with the rest of the band, and they were just as stoked about the surprise as much as you were!

You’d flown out mid-afternoon, and the tour manager had let you into Eddie’s hotel room to put away your stuff and get ready. His manager assured you he would be at the venue for the rest of the day until the show. You decided to show your support by wearing custom red panties with Corroded Coffin printed on the front. You slipped on the same leather skirt from the album release party and paired it with your most recent purchase of Corroded Coffin merch. The T-shirt was a little oversized, so you cropped it yourself.

After you were done getting ready, you got a ride to the venue around 6:30 p.m. so you would arrive during soundcheck. You had been escorted by the security team to the green room to wait for the band to finish. You texted your little group chat that excluded Eddie to let them know you were in place.

About fifteen minutes later, you heard footsteps approaching the door, and the butterflies in your stomach came back to life. The anticipation building and building, 3 months of not being together physically, was tough, but you both managed to make it work. Especially when Eddie started getting really into sexting. He loved sending you before pictures of his stiff cock and after pictures of himself when he finished. He loved how riled up he got you over just his words and the little videos you would send for his eyes only. He begged you to send him one of you getting off; that was his favourite to hold him over.

You could hear the starting act over the intercom speakers in the room as the latch of the doorknob clicked and the muffled voices became more precise.

“I think tonight’s crowd will be really rowdy. I just have this feeling,” Eddie says to the guys while looking over his shoulder and walking into the green room.

“Well, at least one person in the crowd will be.” You speak, and Eddie’s head whips forward. There you are standing before him, looking like his perfect little groupie. (in the best way possible)

“Angel?” He stopped in his tracks. He was in shock.

“Hi baby” you speed walk toward him, closing the gap.

Your bodies collide as you give him the biggest hug you can. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and he finally snapped out of it.

“Holy shit” he screamed with joy spinning you around

“Surprise,” you gave him a small peck.

“What are you doing here?” He puts you down.

“I came to surprise my man.” You look up at him, not wanting to let go.

“Why are you holding out on me? Gimme some sugar.” He leans in to kiss you, and you melt into him.

“Hi, Angel!” You hear Jeff greet you.

“Hey guys! Thanks for all your help. I brought you some donuts as a thank you.” You pull away from Eddie, giggling, pointing to the table.

“Fuck yea!” Felix cheered.

“Don’t tell Terra she doesn’t allow us to have sugar,” Gareth whispers.

“You guys knew?” Eddie asks

“Of course we knew; how else could she get in here?” Jeff laughs

“Enough chitchat, wanna show me your dressing room?” you whisper into his ear.

Eddie has never moved so quickly in his life. Tangled fingers lead you down the hallways into the small room designated for him and him alone. The door slam startled you as he kicked it in behind him.

Eddie didn’t spare a minute. He had you pressed against the door, kissing you deeply. Curious hands explored your body, and you gripped at his t-shirt. You kissed for what felt like an eternity. So much lost time needed to be made up for. Eddie pressed you harder into the door. He had your hands pinned above your head, his hips mindlessly grinding into you.

“This reminds me of the first time we met, Angel… how I wanted to bend you over and claim you as mine when we were in that dressing room. You were such a little tease wearing that tiny little skirt, just like this one. I could almost see your panties when you were doing those sexy dances on stage.” You moaned at his words, and he latched into your neck. His kisses were rough; you knew he would break some blood vessels. You have been so touch-starved that you managed to wiggle your hands out of his grip, begging to feel him. Your hands land on his sculpted chest as your fingers moulded into the stiff muscles, as Eddie simultaneously slips his hands lower down your body and back up to your bare thighs. His touch was leaving an electrical current as the rough calluses of his fingertips scratched your supple skin. They slowly made their way up, up, up, grazing over your dampened panties. The pool of arousal that had collected was being smeared over your lips as Eddie's four fingers ran back and forth through your folds.

"You're soaked for me, Babygirl. You got my fingers all pruned up." He pulls his hand away, and you whine at the loss of contact. You can see your arousal coating his fingers as he spreads them apart, showing your sticky liquid caught between his digits.

"I think we need to get rid of these '' Eddie takes a step back to hook his fingers on the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs, and you step out of them without hesitation.

A mischievous grin appeared on Eddie's face as he popped back up, holding out the sopping material before him so he could read. Corroded Coffin printed right on top of your cunt like you belonged to him.

"Oh, hohhh, hohhhh," He laughed, shaking his head, shoving them into his pocket for later. Eddie dropped to his knees before you could say anything more, his plush lips latched into your soaking cunt.

Sounds of muffled moans and grunts could be heard from the hallway behind the door, but there wasn't a care in the world for that. You both were too distracted by the fading of the music over the speakers to notice that the opening act was over.

"Yes, right there, Eddie, baby, I am so close; please, please, please don't stop," you panted as your hand gripped his hair like your life depended on it.

Just as you were about to come, the loudest bang from the other side of the door startled you so much that you let out a yelp of fright.

The vibrations of Eddie's mouth were no longer the only vibrations running throughout your body. You felt the reverberation of the door through your back as the person on the opposite side of the door pounded their fist against it.

"Come on, man, it's showtime. We have stalled enough," Gareth yelled.

With an unsatisfied sigh, you hoisted Eddied onto his feet and pulled your skirt back down.

"Sorry baby, I'll meet you after the show," he readjusted himself in his tight pants. He kissed you one last time before another startling knock rattled the door.

"I'm coming!" Eddie belted out, obviously annoyed.

“At least one of us is.” You mumbled under your breath, following.

_

Eddie had you situated front and centre so he could keep his eyes on you. The shows could get wild, and he knew mosh pits were always possible. He assigned Craig, the most oversized security guard they had, to pull you up and over the barricade should one break out.

It was nice being on this side of the stage for once. You'd forgotten what it was like, the anticipation of the stage lights coming to life at any minute, the strum of the guitar to warn everyone that the show was beginning.

The crowd lit up the second it happened. You cheered your little heart out as the man you adored rose from under the stage, looking like an adonis.

A single spotlight cast down on the band as the dry ice travelled across the stage. His shirtless chest adorned the strap of his beloved Warlock that has seen better days.

You noticed something tied to the end as you scanned the beloved guitar. The red fabric dangled as he strummed the first notes to the old song. Your eyes bulge as you realize what is precisely attached to the end of his guitar... Your panties, the ones you completely forgot you were no longer wearing, were upfront and centre like Eddie's little trophy, showing them off to a crowd of 40,000 people.

Eddie strutted forward to the mic; the confidence that executed off him was the sexist thing you've seen. Seeing Eddie like this in his element, you were willing to jump over the barricade and bone him right then and there.

Halfway through the show, your thighs were slick with your own arousal. Watching how his nimble fingers moved over the fret, how his body became shiny with sweat. The way Eddie commanded the crowd and the stage, he was made for this. It boggles your mind how he could leave this behind for so long. No wonder women were flinging themselves at him in the past. He looked like a god onstage, and you were ready to worship him, sacrifice your body to him.

You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you failed to realize that the crowd around you was getting louder, girls screaming, men head banging, and people pushing because your boyfriend hopped off the stage. Someone from behind jolted you forward, and you snapped out of your daydreams. In front of you was Eddie propped up on the barricade. His guitar was behind his back, only a mic in one hand and another hand holding him up. You lock in on his sweaty abs centimetres away from your face. You didn’t think twice when you stuck your tongue out to lick them. The salty taste of sweat coats your tongue. Eddie gazed down at you with a look in his eyes that was maddening, but he kept on performing, feeding into the crowd's energy.

The lights lowered, the song got louder, and the crowd was at its peak; Eddie leaned in with all the adrenaline pumping in his veins. He didn't think twice when he bent down, gripped your chin, forced your mouth open and licked into your mouth. Then something wet and hot hit the back of your throat. A needy moan left your mouth as Eddie put the mic to your lips so the crowd could hear how he controlled you. It was the hottest thing he has done to you yet, still in your little Eddie paradise, unbeknownst to you, the whole thing was caught on the big screens. The crowd's roar grew louder as the whole scene of Eddie spitting into your mouth played out for them.

You could feel everyone's phones pointed at the two of you in your vicinity, but you didn’t care. This was your Eddie’s time to shine.

Eddie motioned for Craig to help you over the barricade; you shook your head no because, for one thing, you would flash the entire crowd, and for two, you wanted to keep watching. However, Craig did as he was told and lifted you from your armpits over his head up and over the fence and back down again before you knew what was happening. He took you and led you to the dressing room.

“Ed said that the show only has two more songs, and he didn’t want you to deal with the madness of the after-show.” He explained when opening the door for you. “Oh, thanks, Craig.” You smiled, and he closed the door behind you. He was right. There were only about 15 minutes left of the show. Disappointed that you didn’t get to see it, but you could still hear it.

To kill ten minutes, you scroll on your phone, seeing that you’ve been tagged in so many videos of Eddie eating your face in front of the thousands of people in the crowd. If anyone had doubts about the two of you before, they definitely wouldn’t anymore. Watching the video over and over again only made your pussy throb more than it had been when it actually what happening.

Another five minutes pass, and you hear the roar of the crowd die down; you decide to not waste any more time and strip down into nothing for Eddie. The seconds tick by, and your anticipation gets the best of you; you sit on the couch with a throw pillow to cover yourself just in case he isn’t alone.

The door clicked open, and your heart fluttered; Eddie walked in, alone, thankfully, and locked the door behind him. He was glowing from the sweat that clung to his body, but that didn’t bother you. You were feral, and the instinctive need for him was taking over.

Eddie stalked towards you as you stood up, removing the pillow. “Fuck baby, such a good girl already ready for me.” Eddie gripped the back of your head and pulled you into the sloppiest kiss. Your hands gripped anywhere there was skin; you needed to feel him after what seemed like the most prolonged foreplay ever. Eddie bent lower into you to deepen the kiss, but the tightness in his back says otherwise.

“Ah- fuck ow” he pops back up and grips his lower back.

“Baby what’s wrong?! You as in a panic. You asked in a panic.

“Fuck, it’s my back, babe, I went too hard on the closing number,” He winced and shook his head.

As he hobbled to the couch, you helped ease him down so he was propped up with a pillow behind him to support his back.

“I’m sorry, baby, I was really going to rock your world.” He sighed, tracing his hands up and down your outer thighs.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I’ll just have to rock yours then.” You unzip his pants and shimmy them down his legs as he winced at the jerky moment his leather pants were jostled from his sticky skin. After what seemed like an eternity, you managed to get his cock out of the tight confines of his pants. Mumbling a sorry when you heard him curse under his breath.

You place your knees on the couch straddling his lap and grip his hardened cock in your hands as you run his tip through your pussy folds. You let your head fall back at the feeling of Eddie connected to you before you skink down on his cock. He slid in easily; you've been ready for him since you stepped off the plane.

The feeling of him bare for the first time against your wet walls was intoxicating.

“Fuck me, baby, you’re so tight” Eddie was so drunk off your pussy already. He didn’t even realize this would be your first time having sex without a condom.

“Uh, you feel so good, Eds” You rode his cock up and down, building speed as the tip of his cock hit your g spot with every bounce.

Eddie took one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, sending waves of pleasure to your clit.

“You like riding my dick baby?” Eddie looks up at you as you continue bouncing like his little feral bunny.

“Yes, Sir! Feels so good,” You cry.

The feeling in your lower stomach was building, but you needed more.

“You're a greedy bunny, aren’t ya? He nips at your perked bud again, making you yell out from the sting.

“Answer me, little one.” he slaps the top of your breast, only making you grind your hips harder and faster. Your fingertips gripped his shoulders as you tried to come up with words. You feel another slap but this time on your ass.

“Yes Sir! I’m so greedy for you” You pant, your legs becoming numb, Eddie’s hands circled your plump cheeks, then gripped onto them, and he pumped you up and down on his thick cock.

“Yes! Baby, yes!” You praise.

“Fuck Angel, this tight pussy was made for me… mmpff” he threw his head back against the couch cushions.

“Baby, I’m so close.” you wine

“Fuck me too, bunny. Seeing you bounce on my big cock with your tits bouncing in my face got me feeling like a teenager, going to bust right now” his hands gripes into you tighter.

“Me too, just a little longer.” You lean your head down to kiss his mouth, then his jaw and then that place on his neck, making him thrust his hips faster and harder. The incessant smacking off skin to skin filled the empty room; Eddie moaned as he came quicker than he thought he would; he usually lasts longer than this. You kept bouncing on his cock, pumping his cum into yourself further up up up until Eddie pulled out of you and lifted your body so your dripping pussy was eye level to his face. He latched his mouth onto your clit, as you hiked one leg onto the couch's armrest so Eddie could access your sticky cunt. Your fingers only dug into Eddie’s muscular shoulders more as he played with your swollen bud. The coil was tightening, and you wanted to let go and let the euphoria wash over you.

“Baby more please” You whimpered.

Eddie’s thick fingers broke through your cum coated entrance, you could feel it dripping down your leg. That's when Eddie realized in his post-nut clarity that he came inside you for the first time. Not caring about the consequences, he just wanted to make you feel good. He could see in your face you were close; he replaced his tongue with his thumb to talk you through it. He knew you loved his mouth in more ways than one.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you can do it. Come for me, come for your Eddie. Fuck you’re so fucking sexy. Yeah, that’s it, that’s my pretty girl. You’re getting tighter; I can feel it. I won’t let any more of this come slip out of you until you finish. “ Eddie’s magic fingers brought you to the brink, and his words made you spill over. The euphoric feeling washed over your body as you spasmed in Eddie’s lap. Your body shook like it was possessed, and you clenched your jaw so tight that not even a sound left your body as your orgasm washed through you. “Fuck baby, that must have been a big one” Eddie stroked your hair as you collapsed onto his body. “Yeah, I don’t think I've ever come that hard before,” You panted.

Eddie patted himself on the back, and you gave him a look that said what the fuck. “What?” Eddie laughed. “I did all the work!” You got up onto wobbly legs.“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be? I swear if my back was right, you’d be over my knee, young lady.” he pointed a finger at you. “Oh, I’m soooo scared,” you laughed as you went to get a towel from the bathroom clean up. “Just because I can’t move at the moment doesn’t give you the right to act like a brat.” You could hear the amusement in Edie’s voice. “Oh yeah, come and get me, old man.” You stood a few inches out of his reach. “Not fair, babe.” He pouted and crossed his arms against his bare chest. You giggled at the sight in front of you. “Oh my poor baby,” you gave in; you would be soulless to not give into those big brown puppy dog eyes. “Yes, your poor baby!” He dramatically flung his arms around you as that was the part of his body that didn’t hurt. Laughing at his dramatics, you wrap yourself back into his lap. “You were incredible tonight, baby; I almost forgot to tell you.” You kissed his cheek. “Really? Lil old me?” He batted his eyes. “Yes, baby, I’m serious! Your stage presence, you command the crowd, you were made for this baby. I’m so happy you and the band are back doing what you should be,” you smiled. “Thank you, baby.” Eddie’s head swelled at your praises. You were everything to him, and hearing you say those words only made the love he has yet to confess to you grow stronger.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The tour wrapped up just in time for the winter holidays. Your time off was split between your family on the East Coast and the Munsons on the West Coast. Your family was disappointed that you couldn't bring around your new man, but they understood the circumstances of the relationship. It was only supposed to be business as far as they knew. One night at your parent's house, cozied up by the fire, you were having a nightcap with your mom after your dad went to bed. You confided in your mom your true feelings for one another. The age gap worried her like it would any mother, but you did your best to share how much Eddie meant to you, and he meant a lot to you. The L word was looming. You tip-toed around it, trying so very hard not to admit it out loud because the consequences were disastrous. It had been on the tip of your tongue, but you suppressed those feelings because you knew in your heart things would have to end eventually, and you had to protect yourself.

New Year's Eve was spent with Eddie; he threw a party every year, and this year was the first time Violet Rose managed to stay up for the stroke of Midnight. She fought back her heavy lids and managed to make it to 12:15 a.m. before sleep took over.

The new year was filled with writing, recording, and performing music. You were asked to perform at the Grammys this year, as you were nominated as Best New Artist.

Eddie and you pulled up to the Red Carpet of the Grammys as your first official outing as a couple. It has been eight months since the contract was signed and 4 months since you and Eddie confessed your feelings for one another. Tonight was a bit nerve-racking, seeing as though this was your first red carpet, your first time being nominated, your first time being invited to the Grammys, your first time performing at the Grammys and your first official public appearance with Eddie. You stepped out of the limo after Eddie. He helped you out of the car, holding your hand the entire time. He was always dressed in black, and you wore a strapless lilac Oscar de la Renta gown that you tried so hard not to trip over.

"I got you, Angel. No need to cut off the blood flow to my hand," Eddie chuckled.

"What?- Oh, sorry" You hadn't noticed how hard you were squeezing him until you looked at both of your hands intertwined, and Eddie's fingertips were bright red from the blood pooled there.

"Breath, Angel." Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you to the row of paparazzi lined up. Your name and his name are yelled from every direction, the flashes of light temporarily blinding you. You went through the motions as your heart rate went up, playing off your nerves to the camera as Eddie talked you down, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

You had made it to the primary carpet all the interviewers had been at. Eddie guided you to a lady with one of the biggest smiles on her face. "Oh my god, I can't believe I have Hollywood's hottest couple here with me tonight!" She cheered. You and Eddie both said hello. "So it really is official? The dating rumours seem to be going on for months, with you two being very sneaky with no confirmation, but by the looks of it, tonight, this is the big reveal!" She pointed the mic to Eddie.

"Yeah, I can't believe I managed to swing this one, she sure is something to be putting up with me," Eddie laughed. He was such a natural at this with all his years in the limelight under his belt.

"So you are performing tonight. Has your man given you any words of wisdom, seeing as though he is an OG?" She directed the question at you.

"Well, he has definitely calmed my nerves, that's for sure. This is my first big event like this, and I'm really glad he is by my side for it. I don’t think I’d be able to be here if I was on my own.” You look up at him and continue, "He has all the confidence in me that is enough for the both of us, so having him here with me tonight makes it extra special."

"Oh em gee, love is in the air tonight! The way he is looking at you, how can you not swoon?" she flutters her hand over her face. "haha yeah..." you laugh awkwardly. That dreaded L word brought up when you and Eddie had never discussed it makes you overthink what you were doing again. "Don't make me do another one of those. I don't think I’ll survive," You whisper to Eddie as you walk away from the interviewer. Eddie barked out a laugh that caught everyone's attention. You could hear another interviewer you were walking towards. "Seems as though Hollywood's newest couple is enjoying themselves this evening. Maybe we can get a word or two?" "Come on, baby, I'll do all the talking. You just stand there and look pretty, okay?" Eddie kissed the side of your head and guided you along.

The rest of the night was a blur; your performance had gone perfectly, according to your manager, but you blacked out from all the stress of the night. You were relieved when you didn't win Best New Artist because you didn't have to go up and talk in front of everyone all over again.

Thankfully, the only thing after the show was the afterparty, and you and Eddie stayed briefly. About an hour and a half was spent mingling, and Eddie introduced you to everyone at the party, and your social battery was fried.

When you and Eddie got home, well to Eddie's home, you couldn't wait to crawl into his bed. The place you felt the safest and calmed you, the place that consumed you by all things, Eddie.

You asked Eddie to unzip your dress. It was the first thing you said to him since you got into the limo. Tonight had knocked everything out of you, and Eddie sensed something was off.

"I'm sorry again, baby, that you didn't win; let me make you feel better." He kissed across your bare shoulder and up your neck. "Baby... is it okay if we maybe don't tonight?" you turn to face him, holding your dress to your chest so it doesn't fall. "Yeah, baby? are you feeling okay?" He puts a hand on your forehead to check your temperature. "I'm fine, Eds." You giggle. "Well, something must be bothering you if you don't want any of this." He swings his hips around, pretending to thrust into you, making you laugh more. "Baby, I'm just exhausted. I promise I'm okay about not winning; I just want you to hold me?" you look up at him with that look he cannot resist. "Of course, Angel." He wraps you into his chest and kisses the top of your head. "I'm going to get out of this thing before I ruin it, and I'll be right there." You motion to the dress that was worth thousands. You crawled into bed with Eddie, fresh-faced in one of Eddie's shirts. You snuggle your head into His bare chest, and he smooths down your hair.

"You were amazing tonight, I am so proud of you. Did I tell you that?" He mumbles. "I don't remember? I blacked out for half the night." You laugh. That makes Eddie jerk up so he can look down at you. "I knew there was something off about you tonight, baby. I'm sorry" He pulled you in tighter. "I'll be ok, Eds, now that I am here with you." You drift off. "God, I love you," Eddie says under his breath as he kisses the top of your head just as sleep takes over you....

Eddie’s confession had gone unnoticed by you. The following day, he was anxious and jittery, but he blamed it on not getting a good night's sleep because his back was acting up again.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Weeks passed, and Eddie never bought it up again, scared that you’re pretending you didn’t hear him to spare his feelings, but honestly, you did not hear his declaration.

Eddie planned an extravagant getaway for the two of you since your one-year mark of the contract was approaching, and he wanted to celebrate what brought the both of you together.

You were sitting in your condo’s living room watching TV with Eddie when he cleared his voice. “So, what do you say about joining me on Thursday for breakfast on the Amalfi Coast?.” He cocks his head like a curious puppy. “Ha, good one babe!” You laugh at the thought. It was already Tuesday evening. “I’m serious!” He laughs back. “Babe, what do you mean? We can’t just up and leave?” You question. “Why not? You have any major plans I don’t know about?” Eddie was getting kind of nervous that you did because if so, it would ruin everything. “Well..” You think, no, you really didn’t have anything booked, studio time, no interviews or photoshoots. In fact, your manager had called to tell you a bunch of stuff had been pushed back until the 20th… did Eddie?

“What did you do?” You look at him suspiciously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He gave you a smile like the Cheshire Cat while pulling you into his lap. “Babe,” you warn him. “Angel, I took care of everything because you and I are going on a little getaway alone.” He nibbled under your ear. “Oh my god, I have to pack!” You jump up and run to your closet for your suitcases. You can hear Eddie chuckle as he follows behind you.

_

“Babe, can you at least let me pay you back for the ticket?” You ask as you pull into the grounds of the airport. “No, can do, babe, I didn’t buy a ticket,” he laughed. “But how are we?- Shut up!” It suddenly hit you that Eddie once told you on your first date that he has a private jet, one you haven’t seen until now. As you stare out the car window, the plane is coming into view.

The car had parked on the runway right beside his jet; Eddie jumped out first to open the door for you, a custom you have gotten used to, so you just let it happen.

“After you m’lady.” He bowed and gestured to the plane beside you.

A slight “wow” left your lips as you looked at it in awe. You climbed the steps with Eddie getting the best view of your ass as he tailed right behind you.

You walked in, and your jaw dropped. There was a cream leather couch just as you walked in by the door, another that mirrored another sofa on the opposite side, with four matching leather swivel chairs up at the front of the plane. There were cream carpets that ran throughout the interior adorned with accented black lacquered wood that ran up the walls of the plane, and across the front of the cabin was a soundproof divider that separated you from the caption and the one steward that was to travel with you.

Eddie introduced you to Charles the captain, an older gentleman probably in his mind 50’s, and Paulina, the air hostess, who was way too pretty to not be a model in your opinion.

“Mr. Munson, a pleasure as always,” she greets him, ignoring you. Oh, so that’s how it was going to be? “Paulina, was it?” You turn back to her, and you set your purse down.

She gives you a tempered smile

“How about you get us some Champagne? We are celebrating.” You wrap your hands around Eddie's waist protectively, and Eddie senses your threat. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head at your ridiculousness. “Of course.” She nods her head and walks away.

“You, Little One, have nothing to worry about.” He boops your nose before he plops down, pulling you down with him. “So you and her never?” You pout. “Never. Ever.” He nuzzles his head into the cook of your neck.

Paulina walks in and sets the tray with the champagne flutes on the crystal coffee table before you.

“Is there anything else I can get for you?” She asks cordially. “No, I don’t think we will need much this trip. I’ll ring the call bell if anything, but it should be relaxing for you.” Eddie charms her. “Sounds good, Mr. Munson.” She turns and closes the cabin door.

About half an hour into the flight, you and Eddie could take off your seatbelts, and you and Eddie got comfortable. He asked Paulina to help him make up the sofa that turned out to be a daybed and then put on a movie for the two of you to watch and have background noise while you talk.

“I was thinking… I can get you into this club I know of while on this trip… if you want.” Eddie trailed his index finger dawned with a ring with a dragon's head up your thigh. “Oh, what kind of club?” You ask with genuine curiosity. “Very exclusive; only people who are very high up get to be a part of it.” Eddie holds back a giggle. “Oh? Would this club be called the Mile High Club?” You giggle as you feel the third glass of champagne take over. “God, you’re so smart.” Eddie leaned in and kissed your lips. It was sloppy due to the alcohol so early in the morning, but you were on vacation.

Eddie pulled you into his lap so you could straddle him. He pressed his already hard length up into you and loudly moaned. “Shhhh, Baby, they will hear you.” You look over to the cabin door. “No, they won’t. It’s soundproofed; we can be as loud as we want, Baby, and I want you loud.” he kissed the column of your neck as you leaned your head back in pleasure.

“Now, be my good girl and tell me what you want? Hmm?”

“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you breathed into his mouth, asking for another searing kiss.

Eddie placed a hand on the back of your head and guided you down so he was hovering over you as you lay on the pullout couch.

The leather squeaked beneath you as he adjusts your bodies.

“I’m going to undress you, then I’m going to kiss every inch of your body, and you are going to let me. You’re not going to rush me or beg or pout. You’re going to let me worship you. Understood?” He started by taking off your shoes.

“Yes, Sir,” you nod your head.

“Good girl,” he smiles. You feel a rush in your pussy at his words. How he looks at you, how he wants to please you, and not because you asked him to but because he wants to, is making your head spin. Never has any other man you’ve been with been this attentive to your needs.

He had you down to your underwear, the plane was cool, and goosebumps spread across your skin.

“Don’t worry, Baby. I’ll have you warmed up in no time. He grabbed an ankle and started kissing around your perfectly manicured foot. He wasn’t playing around when he said he would kiss every inch of you. He was going at an agonizingly slow pace. He made his way down your leg to your inner thigh and took off your panties. He breezed over your mound; your hips jerked up, and Eddie gave you a look of warning. “Don’t disobey me, Angel”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to; it’s just what you do to me, Baby.” You looked up at him with sorry eyes.

Eddie threw his head back and groaned. You were his succubus, his own personal vixen. He continued kissing across your other thigh, down your leg to your other ankle. The feeling of his beard and soft lips made you shiver. He tried kissing your feet, but you begged him not to because you’re so ticklish and didn’t want to accidentally kick him in the face.

“I can’t ruin that smile, Baby.” Eddie’s heart fluttered when you called him your little pet names. He leaned forward after gently putting your leg down. He kissed you from your forehead across both cheeks, getting copious giggles out of you. Your giggles subsided when he moved lower, down your neck, across your chest. He kissed over your baby pink lace bra that didn’t hide your perked nipples. You lifted your back so he could unhook your bra, and you shimmied your shoulders so you could release your arms out of the straps. Eddie looked down at you like you could give him the world. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but you pulled him by the back of the neck to kiss him, not caring about the consequences. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip. Eddie cascaded his tongue over your bottom lip, pushing his way into your mouth. Your tongues danced as his hands trailed down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Lower and lower until they reach your silky folds.

“You wanna know something, Angel?” Eddie pulls back, slowly brushing over your

“What, that handsome?”

“You have the perfect lips for kissing”

“Then come back here.” You reach up to grab him, but he stops you.

“Those weren’t the lips I was talking about” He gives you a cheeky grin and then slides down your body until he is face to face with your needy cunt.

This man was too smooth with his words; you didn't need any more foreplay. He could slide in right now, and nothing would be blocking his way. You felt your wetness drip down your leg as Eddie spread you open, leaving one kiss on your pussy before he flips you onto all fours.

“Babyyyyyy” you whine while wiggling your ass in the air.

“I told you, Little One, I am kissing every inch of your body, and you’re going to take it.” He whispered in your ear, hunching over you.

He made his way up your arm, across your shoulders, and down the other arm. The goosebumps came back as he continued down your spine and across every inch of your back. You swore he’d given you 100 kisses by now, but that didn’t stop him.

“Arch for me baby, let me see you” You couldn’t see Eddie’s face, but the tone in his voice the was it went active lower letting you know he was no longer playing around.

“Yes, sir.” You arched your back and sped your legs wider so he could see, just like he had asked.

“Fuck look at you,” He whispered under his breath, and you felt his warm lips come in contact with your cool skin. You felt his soft lips kiss from the top of your tailbone and down to the fat of your ass. His teeth scraped the large muscle, and his mouth left rings of saliva that became cold once he lifted his lips from your skin. You felt his mouth moving closer to your centre, lower until you felt his two hands spread your cheeks open, giving him a small yelp, not being ready to be so exposed, especially in this well-lit plane. His warm mouth fell onto the inside of your cheek, and you gave out another yelp. No one had been so close, so intimate with you like this before.

“I told you, baby, I’m worshipping every inch” You didn’t have time to think before you felt his mouth on your puckered hole.

“Oh my god” you gasped as arousal shot through you.

“Anyone ever plays with this little hole” Eddie kissed you again before a strong hand came down on your ass cheek, making you moan.

“No, Sir” you sucked in a breath.

“What a shame, she’s real pretty” he circled a wet finger around your asshole and your pussy cliched around nothing.

“Would you like me to continue?” He whispered in your ear.

“I did tell you to do whatever you want to me,” you countered back.

“But do you want it?” Eddie grabbed your chin and made you look up as he hovered behind you.

“Yes!” You cry

“Yes. What?” He gritted through his teeth because you should know better.

“Yes, sir, play with my asshole.”

“God, I love when you talk dirty” Eddie slid down your body and licked a long wet strip from your clit to your second hole. A breathy sound of pleasure rips from your lungs, one so loud you even startled yourself. “That's it, baby, let me hear you.” Eddie lapped and circled you so good your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. You never thought you would be into this, but it was Eddie; he made you feel safe, and you liked it when he showed you new things in the bedroom.

His tongue glided across and around your tight hole, as his thick fingers penetrated your pussy. “Doing alright, sweetheart?” He checked in, but you were too zoned out, lost in your own pleasure, you didn’t hear him. Moan after moan left your mouth, not even able to form words.

“I’ll take that as a yes” He smirked before he dove back in, this time his tongue broke its way through your tight walls. Before you knew it, you were coming. The combination of Eddie's fingers and tongue fucking you made your walls tighten, and a roar came from your lungs. “That's it, Princess.” Eddie removed his wet fingers covered with your spend and circled them around your other hole.

“Hollyshit” you breathed out.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” Eddie pulled you back by your hair, sticking his tongue in your mouth. By far the filthiest thing he’s ever done to you, but you were already begging him to do it again. “Please, please, give it to me.” he drops your head from his hand, and your face softly falls onto the cushion. “Such a filthily girl. You want me to split open your pussy with my cock while I finger fuck your ass?” He spoke while taking off the rest of his clothing.

“Please,” you begged.

“My girl is greedy, but what my girl wants, she gets” You felt the couch shift as he knelt down to align himself with your needy pussy. He spreads your lips to get a full view of himself slowly entering your wet hole.

Eddie pumped into you slowly, picking up the pace with each stroke. He spread your ass cheeks open to expose your two holes. You hear him spit as hot saliva cascades down your hole.

“You sure you want this sweetheart?” He grazed his finger over your hole, getting it ready for him. “God! Yes, Eddie! Please!” His cock was hitting your G spot perfectly; with each stroke, you could feel the hot metal of his piercing rubbing your inner walls but needed something more to get you to the edge.

Eddie let it slide that you didn’t call him Sir because he was too damn excited that you let him play with your ass. “Fuck yea, Princess.” He slips his wet thumb into your puckered hole. It surprisingly felt good. Honestly, you were prepared for it to hurt, but the added pressure made your head spin.

“Who does this ass being too?” He gritted, slapping his hips into you, his cock so deep inside that you see stars. If you turned your head to look over your shoulder, you would have seen Eddie’s body glow with sweat, flushed face and a look in his eye that would’ve convinced you he was so madly in love with you. But you never did, too consumed by how Eddie made you feel. The way he fed you the pleasure you always craved, the pleasure you always needed but never received until now.

More moans filled the room, unable to answer. All of your senses were on overdrive. “Huh, baby girl? I didn’t quite hear you?” he slowed down, making you feel every inch of him leave your body and then slammed back into you. “You! Oh god, my body is yours!” You bury your face into the couch cushion. “That's right, Little One, you’re mine.” Eddie pulls you back up with one strong arm and fixes your body to parallel his.

“But if you’re mine. Then I am yours. Tell me I’m yours,” he panted.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re all mine, mine, mine, mine,” you chant your mantra until your walls spasm around his cock, your orgasm cascading through your whole body, your limbs struggle to hold you up as you try to hold yourself up. Eddie continues to thrust into your throbbing cunt until he is so close he pulls out again, being reckless and “forgetting” to put on a condom. He pulls out, and you hear the lewd sound of wet skin smacking as pumped his load on your ass. You feel the hot streams of cum coat your skin.

“Shit, that’s a pretty picture. Don’t you dare move” Eddie grabs his phone off the table and snaps a picture of you with your ass in the air, fucked out of your mind with his cum running down your crack.

“This is going to hold me over for a long time” Eddie laughs

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The car pulled up to a villa right on the edge of the water. You could hear the crystal blue sea water splashing the rocky coastal line. You could smell the salt in the air, the sea breeze was cool on your skin, and the hot sun beamed down in the cloudless sky. The concrete building was painted a terracotta that was slowly failing but only added to the vintage flair.

“Welcome home, Baby” Eddie kissed the top of your head and led you inside.

The large wooden door creaked open, and you entered the most beautiful home you’ve ever seen. “This house is yours?” You asked, “No baby, ours,” he corrects. “Not what I meant, Eddie; I meant you own this place?” You reiterated. “Yes, Angel.” he pulled you in closer, put your bags down and kissed you.

You didn’t even get a chance to look around before you and Eddie jump one another’s bones again… On the sofa, the porch daybed, the kitchen counter, the shower, and the bedroom. It was a miracle you convinced Eddie to get out of bed and show you around. Wrapped up in the crisp sheets, which remained black even in this home with this distinctly Italian decor.

You reminded him he promised to take you to that Café on your first date. “Eddie, you promised me the best pastry in the whole world, we have been here 34 hours, and I still haven’t experienced it” you pout.

Eddie’s propped up on an elbow, giving you a look.

“What?” You ask innocently.

“Just looking at you makes me so horny” Eddie leans into you, pushing you into the plush pillows that adorn the bed, he was an addict, and you were the fix, the only one that could cure his hunger.

Eventually, you had gotten Eddie out of bed and into the Italian streets. Your days were filled with walking hand in hand. He took you to the Café first. They did, in fact, have the best croissant you had ever tasted and the best Caffe latte you ever had. Eddie and you strolled through every shop you said you wanted to go into, buying a bunch of trinkets and gelato. He took you to the beach the next day, and the day after that, you toured around the city some more; he booked a cooking class where you were taught how to make homemade pasta. The next day, you went on a winery tour. There was so much to discover and so much history to see; the week was jam-packed with things to do, and you never felt so free. Being here with Eddie in another country where no paparazzi was hounding you every moment of every day. You kept your socials quiet, not wanting to tell anyone where you were. Having it just be you and Eddie was a dream. Not that you didn’t miss Vi, but the break was needed.

_

You only had 2 days left of your trip. Tonight, Eddie cooked for you. It was one of the most romantic evenings you two shared. He had put out candles on the dining room table, had music on in the background, and asked you to dance with him on the balcony under the stars, and now you were standing in a moonlit room in front of a floor-length mirror, naked.

Still fully clothed, Eddie walked up behind you, and his hand slowly grazed your shoulder, up across your collarbone, and then he teasingly wrapped one finger at a time around your throat. He jerks your head to the side so he can speak to you. You can feel his hot breath on your ear as he says, “Look at you. America, Sweetheart, getting all wet and sticky just for me. Are you going to let me touch you, Princess? fuck that sweet little cunt of yours?” You desperately try and nod your head, but Eddie’s grip is firm. “Use your words,” he growls in your ear.

“Yes Sir” you sighed.

“God, no one makes me as horny as you do,” he growls in your ear.

Eddie leans closer, his other hand not on your throat, wraps around your waist, pulling you into him as he pushes his stiff cock into your lower back. He moves in to kiss you, and goosebumps appear all over your body as his lips connect to the supple skin of your neck. It’s more gentle than what you're expecting. His hand slides down from your waist, leaving your throat to cup your breast.

“Look at yourself while I touch you,” Eddie whispers. You don’t dare disobey his orders tonight; something about tonight is different: you want to be good for him no matter what. He has been so good to you. All you want is to be that for him in return. So you turn your head and look at where his fingers connect with your skin. His calloused tips are rough on your breast's soft, delicate skin. The pads of his fingers cascade through your wet folds, and you try so hard for your knees not to buckle at the sight you’re witnessing.

“That’s my pretty girl. You’re so good to me.” He slowly circled your clit as you continued to watch. You tried so hard to not fall to your knees. Your hands find his muscular thighs, and you drip onto them for dear life. You let out a breathy moan as Eddie sucked on your neck, hitting that sweet spot he is good at locating on the first try. You finally broke and turned so you could be face to face. You needed to kiss him like you needed air to breathe.

Eddie grabbed onto your bare ass and hoisted you up. You wrapped your legs around his thick torso, and he walked the two of you over to the bed as you left a trail of kisses down his neck.

Eddie ever so gently laid you down on the bed like you were made of glass. You watched him from the bed as he stripped down into nothing, missing his touch the entire time he was away. “Baby I need you,” reach out for him.

“I know Angel, I’m right here. I gotcha.” he crawled on top of you.

You were right; something about tonight was different between the both of you; the dynamic wasn’t raw and animalistic. It was soft and delicate. Eddie crawled on top of you and slowly slid himself into you. The execution was effortless. Your slick canal was more than ready to take him. He kissed you and kissed you, and kissed you. Eddie kissed you all over. No words were being spoken. The only sound that filled the room was the sound of skin-on-skin and illegible moans of pleasure. No words needed to be spoken, not anymore. Not tonight. You and Eddie both knew that tonight was about making love. He was soft and gentle, 180 from where you two usually went in the bedroom, but this is what you needed, the missing puzzle piece finally being found. Eddie’s hands intertwined with your own; considering all of the intimate things you had done thus far, this moment takes the cake. He was gazing into your eyes, and his cock brushed the walls of your pussy. Each thrust had meaning behind it. Each time he leaned in to kiss, you meant something, something more than you would ever have the pleasure of knowing. You felt love, even if he hadn’t said anything; you knew deep, deep down this was his way of showing you how much you meant to him. To take care of you, to be there for you… and the same goes for him, even if you don’t know it. You being there for Violet Rose and being there for Eddie also made you the missing puzzle piece to his life.

“Eddie, baby, I’m close” You broke the silence and tucked his wild main behind his ears.

Eddie smiled and brought his hand down between your bodies so he could massage your clit, knowing how much you loved when he played with the bundle of nerves. Only a few circles do it for you until your body is jerking under Eddie’s.

“That’s my girl, fuck yes, that’s it. Just like that, come for me, Angel.” he kept thrusting as the orgasm took over your body.

The feeling of his head hitting the top of your cunt as your pussy clamps down on his cock like a vice has Eddie following not far behind. He tried to pull out before he came, but when you begged him to come inside you. Who was he to deny the women he loves? He’s only but a man, a man blinded by your magical pussy that was sucking him back in.

“Fuck baby, you want my babies, you want me to get you all round and pregnant. You want my cum that bad.” He whispered.

All you could do was nod and pull his body closer to you, not ever wanting him to leave.

“Fuck” Eddies thrusts became less uniform and sloppy as he came, releasing his seed inside you.

Eddie pulled out a few seconds later. you were at a loss, but you had to clean yourself up, so you tried getting up, but Eddie stopped you.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, I have to you know” suddenly feeling shy.

“No, you stay here. I’ll go.”

“But I feel it leaking already” you giggle

Eddie hopped out of bed and ran to the master bathroom; you couldn’t help but check out his little tush as it glowed in the moonlight.

Not even 30 seconds later he was back with a damp towel helping you clean up. “I, um, I hope you know about the baby thing… It was just um, I uh.” He cleared his throat.

“It’s okay, I have an IUD remember.” You roll over to face him. “Okay, good, right. But never can be too careful,” he clarified.

“It was um in the moment, I liked it” You shuffle your body so you're resting your head on his bare chest.

“I’m always careful, but somehow, you know how to make my brain mush.” He laughs.

“I guess I have that effect on people.” You tilt your head up to kiss his neck.

“Fuck Angel, I don’t know if I can go again,” he sighed.

“ M’sorry baby, you’re just so sexy” You hum in his ear.

Eddie turned his head and lifted your chin so he could kiss you. You melted back into the bedsheets, feeling the best you’d ever felt.

“We should go to sleep, baby. I have a big have a big day planned for us tomorrow."

“Okay, goodnight baby” you sigh as he gives you one last goodnight kiss.

_

The following day, you woke up with dread coursing through your veins. Wide awake, laying in bed, your head cleared, you realized the mistake you had made last night. The bond between you and Eddie was too woven, too tight. It will kill you to break it, but you had to, and now you ruined everything.

You were spaced out the rest of the day; you hardly realized you had been outside walking by the water. "I have something special planned for us." Eddie took your hand as you walked through the ancient cobblestone streets, snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart sank, this was all becoming too much, but you played it off, not wanting to crush Eddie's heart, so you sucked it up and gave him a smile.

You could see a single yacht docked at the end as you approached the water's edge. As you approached, it was lit with hundreds of tiny fairy lights. You could see red and white balloons and many flowers. Assorted wildflowers mixed with purple roses and... poppies. A nod to the nickname his daughter gave you. Your heart was racing; you couldn't bear to do this to him. You couldn't let him go through with whatever romantic gesture he had planned. Halfway up the ramp, you stopped, and Eddie had tugged on your arm, thinking you were still trekking along behind him.

"What is it, Angel? Are you scared of boats?" He looked concerned, not thinking about that option when he had planned that night.

"No, uh, it isn't that." You fought back the crack in your voice.

"Then come on, I have to show you something." He said with a smile tugging your arm again, but your feet were planted. Refusing to go any further.

"Eddie. I can't," you whisper.

"Sure, you can come on." He was oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"I can't do this," you shook your head, fighting back the tears.

Eddie's face went from happy school boy to concerned father instantly.

"Baby, what's wrong? Talk to me." he rested both hands on your shoulders, looking down at you with a furrowed brow.

"I need to go. I can't be here." The panic in your voice broke.

"You're scaring me angel, what is wrong?” you didn't think the look of concern could get any more profound, but it did.

You didn't answer him; you turned and walked off the ramp and back down the dock onto the cobbled streets.

Eddie chased after you, not letting you go by yourself in an unfamiliar city alone at night.

"Baby, wait!" you didn't look back. You just kept running. You no longer were able to hold back your tears. The crying turned into sobs. You could hardly see where you had been going before Eddie caught up with you, placing a hand on your shoulder to bring you around to face him.

Your sobs mixed with your panting from running, made you need to catch your breath before you could speak.

"Don't make me do this," You sobbed into him.

Eddie stroked the back of your head, trying to console you; he was confused but more frightened than anything. He didn't understand what made you run? What had he done wrong? Was it the boat?

"Let's get you inside" He guided you down a few more streets, and you caught your breath as you approached the doors to Eddie's home.

Eddie sat you down and went to fetch you a glass of water

"You need to talk to me, Angel. What is going on?" He squatted in front of you, placing both hands on each knee for you to look at him.

"Eddie, we can't do this, this is too real! We took things too far. I don't know what to do? How can we keep doing this when we know how this will end?" you rambled.

"Angel, who says it has to end?" He needed clarification.

"We both signed that contract. You know we can't keep this up forever. We only have one week left before this is all over!" You raised your voice because now you were frustrated. What was he not understanding?

"Who cares about the contract?!" he yelled back, now frustrated.

Eddie had never yelled at you before; never once had he raised his voice at you in the past year.

“I care! My whole career depended on this stupid arrangement!” You yell.

“Oh, that's really all this was to you?! A Stupid arrangement? I’m just a way to get you to the top, huh?” Eddie was hurt. His words came out laced with venom.

“Fuck! No, not anymore! That isn’t want I meant!” You reach your hands out to Eddie, but he flinches away.

“But it's what you said!” He pointed.

“God, Eddie! That’s not what I meant! How we feel no longer matters; we can’t go on!” You cried.

“How could it not matter?!” He stood up and started pacing.

“Because it just can’t! You screamed.

“Yes, I can because guess what? I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU!” Eddie shouts back.

Your heart stops beating, your head starts spinning. Eddie loves you. That's what this date was about; he would profess his love for you...but it’s too late. All of this is too much. You should have kept things professional. It was supposed to be easy. No heartbreaks, no feelings, no getting attached. Simple. It was supposed to be simple!

“None of that matters...” you whisper with a solemn sniffle.

“Doesn’t matter?! How could this not matter?! You’re my world!” your real name fell out of his mouth. Not once in this year had Eddie even muttered your actual name. Your heart breaks into a million shards of glass ripping through your chest. He fell to his knees, kneeling in front of you.

“We can’t be together! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” you stand up off the couch and continue, “We can’t be together, okay! What don’t you understand? We HAVE to break up, Eddie. The contract is over; it's finished. We are finished.” you started pacing the room, you can't look at him, you refuse to look at him. You think you'll be sick if you glance in his direction.

Eddie’s heart was literally cracking into two pieces, how could you be saying these things to him? Why was this happening now? He was going to ask you tonight, he had everything planned… and now you’re breaking up with him? Because of a contract?

“How can you say that? After everything we have been through!” he belted, feeling betrayed.

“The contract says so! My career says so.” You were beyond frustrated and hurt, but this had to be done because legally, it needed to happen.

“Angel, please.” He took a step towards you with his arms reaching out.

“Eddie. Don’t.” you took a step back. Eddie winced as if he had physically been burned.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing all we had away.” He shook his head, refusing to look at you. “There is nothing we can do! We both signed the contract. You knew this day was coming! I don’t understand why I’m the bad guy?!” you pleaded.

“You think I gave two shits about what that piece of paper says? Do you think I read anything it said when I had a dream girl placed in my lap! Do you think I read that?! NO, I didn’t, not when I would be with you!" He tested the waters, taking another step forward, but you took another step back.

“Eddie, please, no. Tell me you knew that we had to break up… please.” you cried.

“Of course not! I don’t care about it. I love you, why don't you understand?!” He pleaded.

“I care! I can’t fuck up my career, don’t you get that?!” You could pull your hair out.

"So that's it? Just like that, we are done? You stand there, and you can look me in the eye and say your career is more important to you than our relationship? That's what all of this is about for you this whole time? I know you love me, and you won't say it back!" Eddie threw his pointer finger at you.

"That's not what I'm saying. You mean everything to me!" Your nose was running, and the streams of mascara and eyeliner cascaded down your cheeks.

"Then why are we fighting?!" Eddie's voice carried more than he knew. You winced at his tone.

You can't handle it when people yell at you. It only makes you cry more.

"Because I can't allow myself to love you." You shake your head in defeat.

"Baby, please don't do this to us. I can't live without you; Violet Rose needs you. I can't picture a life without you in it.” That little red velvet box felt like fifty pounds in his jacket pocket right now.

“So because you say so, that's it? This is the end?" Eddie pinched his brow bone.

“It's not me who decides, Eddie... We both signed a deal..." you seethed.

"Fine," just like that, he turned and stormed out of the front door.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You stood in the grand room with nothing but regret and sorrow to keep you company. You didn't eat, and you didn't sleep much over the next twenty-four hours.

You don't know how long you stood there before your body collapsed from exhaustion. You didn't know your catatonic state would last you a few days. You didn't know how you ended up at the airport, and you don't know how you got on the airplane back to L.A.

You didn't know that that would be your last time seeing Eddie.

You needed to fix this. You called Roger when you finally snapped out of the trance a few days later, but it was too late.

"The story is already out to Princess. It is being streamed on TMZ, People Magazine, and ETalk... There isn't anything we can do. Why do you want to keep it going?" He asked, confused. Knowing he would have cut it shorter, you never disclosed the truth to Roger.

“Never mind, Roger, I guess that’s it then.” You hung up without saying goodbye, no longer able to fight back your sobs.

That was it; the story was out, and you were curled up in bed for days. When the crying finally stopped you were more like a zombie, sleeping, waking up, then sleeping again. Anything to avoid life, you did. You just went through the motions.

Your phone and TV had been off after your phone call with Roger. You decided to turn your phone back on, with the thought of your mom freaking out from not hearing from you in a few days crossed your mind.

The first notification you get as soon as it turns on…“Hollywood's most beloved couple call it quits.”

The reality of your actions came crashing into you like a Mack Truck. You would never hear his laugh, never be able to hold him, never be able to help VR with her homework again. You would never be able to feel complete. So that was it; what’s done is done. You could do nothing to reverse the damage you brought to Eddie’s life. You just hoped that one day he would have it in his heart to forgive you, to understand why you did what you did… because you are in love with him, and you always will be.

~end~

Read part 2 here

Thank you for taking the time to read 💜 comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated and encouraged ! 🫶🏻

Tagging some moots and ppl who asked to be tagged : @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n @callsignraver @changemunson @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @mmunson86 @xxhellfiregirlxx @amira0303 @lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn @hellfire--cult @hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks @crazycat-ladys-blog @purplehazed-h

[bluesidez]

Hi I saw your req open and I flew here ehe-

Hear me out please 😭

Miguel is a geneticist (someone who works around denetics) and sometimes he doesn't understand the programs that he 'made' and Lyla has to help him. That makes Peter B. and the spider-teens very suspicious of him.

What's even more suspicious is that once a month he leaves the Spider HQ to who-knows-where.

After some stalking investigating, they find out that every time that he leaves; he goes to a park to meet [Reader], that is the one who helped with all the tech he has at HQ.

When he returns the next day, he is confronted about it and explains that [Reader] is an old friend and he trusts them with the Multiverse secret. However Peter B. and the others obviously saw the mutual attraction between both of them so they help out Miguel confess to [Reader].

Fluff + a little suggestive with Gn Reader please ^^

Anyway drink lots of water and keep yourself healthy!! ❤❤

[Undercover Lover]

lab tester: @hikaru-sama 🩻

pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!Reader

summary: Miguel is willing to stop the world for you, you just want to be the small part of his world that makes it better.

content warning: fluff, longing from reader and Miguel, the spider-teens are all menaces (as in they all have chismosavirus), Peter is Peter, a little suggestive but nothing crazy, I also made Miguel’s relationship with the teens pretty adorable (Papa Miggy 🥺)

word count: 5.8k, halfway proofread (don't ask...)

a/n: This request is not outlandish in any way, btw. It's very cute! I hope you don’t mind that I added a little extra to the programming aspect. THANK YOU TO THE MIGGY SERVER FOR YOUR HELP AS ALWAYS! I have been wallowing in the chats for who knows how long. I thought it would be cute and funny. Also, I've been doing better with my water intake! I hope you're proud. 🥺

Miguel blew out a tired breath, eyes blurry after staring at the same set of files all day.

“Lyla, could you replay the scan from this morning?”

“I don’t know, can I?”

Miguel frowned as his eyes panned to the flickering yellow glow, “Are we doing this right now?”

“Doing what?” Lyla posed with her head tilted in her hand.

“Lyla. Replay the scan from Earth 450-”

“Here’s what I found on scams on 4chan.”

“I said scans not scams- what are you talking about? And what is 4chan?”

Lyla switched to a pose that mimicked The Thinker, her heart-shaped glasses morphing into ones made of stone.

Miguel shifted his weight to one side, hands on his hips as he watched Lyla float around his desk.

“Pull up the LYrate Lifeform Approximation code.”

Lyla snickers, glasses shifting to match the marks of a clown’s face, “You don’t know how to work that, buddy.”

“I didn’t ask you to tell me that, I asked you to-”

Lyla opens the file before he can finish his spiel.

“Now, what?” Lyla whispers with glee. “Gonna hack into the motherboard? Break down the firewall?”

Miguel ignored her and read through the constant formulas, coding that he's never even seen before becoming longer and longer.

Lyla popped up right in his peripheral view, pulling out one of the smaller codes to highlight, “What’s this one mean?”

Miguel squints at the line, “Something about how you respond to tone?”

“It’s my hair color,” Lyla’s voice is high and giggly like she was anticipating his completely wrong answers. “What about this one?”

“I, I don’t know. Your jacket?”

“Voice modulator,” the code danced around him as Lyla switched her voice to something of an old Hollywood star. “You’re not very good at this, tuts.”

Miguel felt a strange chill as Lyla walked around with a long white dress instead of a jacket and her brown hair in curls falling down her back. She laughed at him some more as she pulled her now, thick-rimmed triangle-shaped sunglasses to the top of her head.

“Lyla-”

Miguel’s watch jolted, a notification blaring at him. He answered with haste, mind frantic.

“Miguel? Is something up with Lyla, because I asked her to find this Mysterio’s dimension, and she started playing some wrestler’s theme song instead,” Jess huffed, throwing the villain's body over the back of her motorcycle. “Now, he won’t stop singing it.”

Miguel felt his head start to pound, “Something’s going on with her. She’s not functioning at her normal state.”

“You’re never functioning at a normal state,” Lyla sighed dramatically, arm over her head with wind blowing around her. “Always so tense!”

“Oh my god?” Jess’s eyes went wide as she took in the Lyla at Miguel’s side. “Why does she sound like that?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m shutting her down until I can fix it. Just send the Mysterio back here.”

“You can’t turn me off, Miggy! Don’t you want me to sing for you?”

“Yeah, hurry up and log her off. She’s freaking me out.” Jess ended the call with a disgusted face.

With her gone, the room was filled with Miguel’s thoughts and Lyla humming and brushing her hair in a vintage mirror, something she would have never cared to do on a regular day.

Looking at the lines of coding in front of him, there was no way he was going to find what was happening.

He reached across his desk to a new screen, searching for a certain folder. Miguel laughed to himself as he read the title.

Don’t open unless it’s ABSOLUTELY crucial to your health…and well-being. .3.

Miguel would consider this a crisis.

He tapped the folder, watching as a sprout of several different colors surrounded him. He shifted it through the lights, some of them being pictures of you and him, some of them being animated GIFs of cats, and others being helpful guides to small technological problems. He kept searching until he found a yellow tab that read “LYLA? LIGHTS OUT!”

With one click, Lyla went from twirling and singing in heels to being dormant, gone to the Spider Society. Letting out the breath he was holding, he shifted the files back into the folder and geared up to make the announcement.

“Attention Spiders,” Miguel held his watch up to his mouth. “Lyla will be down for maintenance for a couple of hours.”

He could hear the collective groan from the society all the way in his office.

“And I will try my best to get her up and running for future missions. Until then, please send any anomalies directly to Margo and stick to local crimes as well as protecting your respective neighborhoods.”

As soon as he ended the announcement, Margo was flooding his watch with back-to-back memes. Miguel remained confused watching a little girl in a cowboy hat complain to her grandpa while he dismissed her.

“I can send someone else down there to help you.”

“no because if anyone breaks my tech, it’s coming out of YOUR 🫵🏾 paycheck”

“Everything comes out of my paycheck.”

“whatever dad”

“?”

Perturbed, but not wanting to waste any more time, Miguel locked his office and called your number.

Two rings and you were picking up the phone.

“Hey, Spider-ider!”

“Hi,” Miguel refused to admit how the nickname sounded cute coming from you. “I need your help with something.”

“No ‘How are you?’ or ‘Sorry I haven’t checked on you in forever.’ Just straight to business, huh?”

“Sorry,” Miguel collected himself. “How are things? Did you manage to get the job with that tech company?”

“Why, thank you for asking, Miguel! I’m pretty good. Things are different! I did end up getting that job, but the manager is eerily creepy, so I’m trying my best to pile up the meanest HR case or try to wiggle my way into a new department. So far, the former is slowly but surely working, not sure if my sanity can take much more. How are you?”

Miguel's eyebrows shifted a bit, “You know you can just call for my help if anything goes wrong, right?”

“Miguel, you’re protecting so many people. More than I can even fathom, actually. I’m not going to ask you to stop to check on me.”

You should. He’d drop everything.

“It wouldn’t take much from my end, I could just-”

“Miguel.”

He bit his cheek, knowing you wanted to move the conversation along.

“How are you?” you asked again, tone back to normal.

“I’m neutral. Same thing as always. Now, it’s just that Lyla was really unbearable today.”

“Unbearable how?”

Miguel went into every detail, pulling in some last-minute reports from other Spiders that managed to use her before he shut her down.

“So you’re telling me she glitched out, wore an alligator head, and integrated ‘Flat Fuck Friday’ into every conversation?”

“Well, that was just one of the many cases. Is that, is that all you heard?”

“No, I got it,” you fixed your face to try and hold back your laugh. “It sounds like she hit her funny bone.”

Miguel looked up at the ceiling and back at you, “This is serious.”

“And I’m being as serious as I can be!”

“She’s causing all of this trouble because of a funny bone.”

You laugh at Miguel’s deadpan tone, “Ok, so technically it’s called a laughing virus. It’s been hitting a lot of major search engines for some reason, but Lyla is the closest to human-like AI there is, so it’s a funny bone!”

“As stupid as that is, I need your help to come fix it.”

“Aw, you need me to come check your work?”

Miguel avoided your gaze, “There is no work. I couldn’t tell one line from the next.”

“But Miguel, you were doing so good last time. What happened?”

“I-I don’t know, I thought I had one right but I mixed up tones with shades.”

“That’s still on the same playing field, so you got something right! That’s good progress, Miguel.”

“Mm.”

“I’ll be there soon. Don’t do anything crazy, although you’ll probably just loom over the desk dramatically.”

Miguel opened his mouth to rebuttal but you already ended the call with a laugh.

With truly nothing but his thoughts, he hurried to clean his space. There were a few loose wires and an empty box from the cafeteria scattered around.

By the time you were tapping the code into his office door, his platform was back on the ground and he’d just swept up some dust that managed to build in the corner of the room.

“Don’t clean up now just because I’m here,” you watched as his shoulders jumped a bit at your voice.

“I’m not,” Miguel huffs and sets the broom against the wall.

“Sure.”

Miguel comes closer to you with his hands on his hips.

You were probably the main reason that Lyla was the way she was, sarcastic and immature.

The only difference was Miguel could mute Lyla or switch modes for some peace. For you? It was non-stop. The only way he knew how to get you to stop was a method that’s been crowding his dreams ever since he met you.

He saw your lips moving at a mile per minute, but nothing was really reaching his ears.

They looked so soft, so perfect. He wondered if he should just let the society function on its own for just a few more hours.

“Miguel!” You waved your hands in front of him. “Lyla being down has really stressed you out, huh? You’re unfocused.”

He cleared his throat, “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“Well, let’s get to it!”

Miguel moved so you could walk to his desk, heart racing.

Whatever it was you were about to try to teach him wasn’t going to stick. He just knew it.

“Hey, Miguel! You know, I was wondering if we could implement some type of spider-baby daycare? MJ is pretty busy these days,” Peter strided into Miguel’s office with a wiggly Mayday strapped to his chest.

The platform was down, but the serious figure was nowhere to be found.

“Miguel?”

Peter tried to feel him out, but there’s no way anyone could miss Miguel in plain sight.

“Hm,” Peter put two fingers out for Mayday grab. She squealed glee, taking one finger to chew on. “If I were a Miguel, where would I be?”

He pondered through the halls, eventually finding himself at the entrance of the cafeteria. Mayday looked up almost as if she was disappointed.

“I need fuel to think!”

Peter ran down the line grabbing his usual: a 2099 burger, a large fry, and a medium cola, he’s dieting!

At the end of the line, a familiar voice called his name.

“Hey, kiddo! How’s it going?” Peter made his way to the table occupied by the younger spider crew.

Miles squinted at him, “Not a kid, but it’s going good! Have you seen Miguel? He was supposed to be training me an hour ago, but he’s not answering his watch.”

“Funny that you say that,” Peter stuffed his mouth with a handful of fries. “Went to his office and he wasn’t there.”

“What is with him and disappearing lately? It’s not like him,” Gwen mumbled. “I was supposed to report to him not too long ago and he wasn’t here.”

“Time is an enigma,” Hobie was tuning his guitar. “Glad he’s finally taking advantage of it instead of chatting about doomsday.”

“True, but he missed part of the big party we planned three months ago, too,” Pavitr supplied.

The table stopped and stared at Pav with various deadpan looks.

“What? He promised he’d try my special dish! He never breaks our promises.”

“He did pile a load of work on me when Lyla broke. Usually, he would come down and help me, but he said he was busy fixing her,” Margo turned to Peter.

The table sat and pondered for just a second then the teens started spouting out nonsense.

“He’s retiring!”

“He’s going to give HQ up.”

“He’s not going to another universe again, right?”

“He’s finally taking breaks.”

“He’s dying!”

Again, the table stopped to look at Pavitr.

“False alarm?”

“Look,” Peter held his hands up. “I don’t think it’s any of that.”

“What makes you so sure?” Gwen sounded nervous.

“Uh, he would tell me!”

Miles snickered at that which caused Mayday to fall into a fit of laughter.

“What? He’s told me things before. We’re buddies!”

“And where is your so-called buddy right now?” Margo folded her arms.

“Touche,” Peter took a giant slurp of his drink, cupping a hand under it to make sure nothing dripped on Mayday’s head. “But don’t you have a way to find him?”

“The Grumpy GPS? Yeah, but I’ve never used it because he’s always here,” Margo sighs.

“How about the next time he disappears, you let us know?” Gwen suggested.

“Love it,” Hobie fist bumps Gwen.

Miles scratched his neck, “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Says the guy that snuck into the Spider Society,” Pavitr shook his head.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” Gwen raised her eyebrow. “Margo is on Miguel-duty. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, right guys?”

Everyone nodded their head in determination.

Peter smiled. He’s still got this mentor thing down!

Margo was down near the Go-Home-Machine running Style Savvy through an emulator.

“That is so ugly,” she sang as she watched another contestant’s outfit go down the runway.

Her judging was interrupted by a dancing cartoon spider with bushy eyebrows.

She paused the game and stretched her arms to the other side of the room to give everyone a call, “Mission ‘Where is the Old Man?’ is up and running. The Grumpy GPS has been added to you guys’ gizmos. I’ve got everything ready to hack.”

“It sounds like we’re doing a lot more than tracking,” Hobie mumbled.

“But what if he actually is dying?” Gwen was lacing up her ballet shoes tight. “He would tell us, right?”

“Oh, but when I said that, it sounded crazy,” Pavitr pulled his mask down. “The double standards are appalling.”

“He could be just avoiding us. Can’t say it hasn’t happened before,” Miles’ voice was low and testy.

“He wasn’t avoiding you, Miles, he was just…projecting,” Gwen said matter-of-factly.

“Are we back on this? Sending the entire society after me is projecting. Missing our training sessions that he set up multiple times? That’s just foul.”

Gwen and Miles went back and forth, fussing over little things.

“They’re bickering again. How cute,” Pavitr stage-whispered.

“1 mission on Miles winning?” Hobie asked.

Pavitr thought for a second, “Deal.”

“You’ll probably be the most upset if he really is sick,” Gwen comments.

“Says who? I’m not worried,” Miles zipped up his jacket halfway.

“Then why are you bouncing around like that, Miles.”

Hobie sighed while Pavitr cheered.

“If you guys are done, Miguel’s moving on foot heading down 5th. I pinned a checkpoint,” Margo sent the coordinates to their watches.

“Time to go see if big man’s a killer,” Hobie yawned. “Or not.”

Peter felt the ground shake under him, hair rising on the back of his neck. His senses were screaming at him to turn around.

The thing is, if he turned around, he'd lose track on Miguel who was currently inside of the very building he was standing on top of.

The shaking grew, pebbles and vent plates rattling around him, then everything fell back into place.

One, two, thre, four pairs of feet hit the ground.

“Where’s Margo?” Peter asked, eyes not leaving the ground under him.

“In our ears singing,” Gwen groaned. “Where’s Mayday?”

“Enjoying a lovely Mommy-Daughter date with MJ and her girlfriends. Glad to have you all join me.”

“How’d you know he was going to be here?” Hobie crossed his arms.

“Like I said, buddies!”

“You waited outside of his office, didn’t you?” Pavitr pointed his finger at Peter.

Peter turned around with an offended face, “Details-schmetails!”

“Well, do you have any idea what he’s up to now?” Gwen put a hand on her hip.

“Well, we’re on the roof of an apartment, super expensive might I add, and I’m assuming his apartment is here. So maybe he’s just getting a nap in.”

“He’s on the move,” Margo’s voice buzzed through all of the teens' ears and they ran to the edge of the building, practically pushing Peter to the side.

“He’s wearing normal clothes for once,” Gwen’s voice was shocked.

“His trousers are quite nice,” Hobie nodded as if he was looking at a magazine.

“It’s so…weird,” Miles shuddered. “I’ve never seen him in anything else but his suit.”

“He wore a nice button-down to my Zoom celebration once,” Margo hummed.

“Guys?” Pavitr’s voice went high. “Where’s Peter?”

The three of them turned around to see a missing pink-robed Spider.

“Oh, come on!” Miles jumped from the roof to the next one, following the pink fluff. Miguel was walking fast on the sidewalk and Peter was keeping his trail from up high.

“Really, Peter?” Gwen swung alongside the two with the rest right on their tails. “Some mentor you are.”

“I’m a great teacher! You’re all catching on quite well,” Peter swung lower as Miguel crossed the street.

Colors flew across the sky, contrasting with the constant grays and small specs of green of Nueva York. Scaling from building to building was a lot easier with flying cars added to the mix, but it was a little odd to see wobbling vehicles every now and then.

“I think you guys should slow it down. His pace changed,” Margo noted. “He’s stopping at…a park? Didn’t know they still had those here.”

With a sturdy pull, Miles used his web to stop Peeter from running any further and the now quintet landed on the ground a safe distance from the park.

“A little dreary for a park, innit?” One eye on Hobie’s mask went higher than the other.

From where they were hiding, steel statues stood tall, tufts of greenery growing up the structure. There was more pavement than grass and the walkways contained several dips and turns.

“I think there’s some flare to it,” Miles countered. “Could use a lot more color.”

They quieted down as they watched Miguel find an empty bench. He sat down and started to rub his hands against his pants. He sat for a minute or so before he checked his watch and his leg started to bounce.

“Is he waiting on someone?” Gwen whispered.

“Oh, I wonder who it could be?” Pav whispered back.

“Why are you guys whispering?” Margo paused her side mission of trying to find any security cameras in the area.

“Doesn’t he have super-hearing?” Miles asked.

“Over this much noise?” Hobie brought the talking level back to normal. “If he doesn’t suspect us of following him, there’s no need for him to focus on us.”

After about five minutes of watching and making a game out of how many times can Miguel check his clothes, with Peter mumbling about how the pants aren’t going to get any looser with those thighs, everyone holds their breath as they watch someone take a seat next to him.

Miguel’s entire demeanor changed.

His face lit up, his back straightened, and the tension from his body fell.

“No way,” Pavitr whispered excitedly. “Guys!”

“What’s going on? I still can’t get into the security cams,” Margo’s voice was impatient.

“Miguel…has a partner?” Gwen tilted her head watching the two react. The mystery person got up to hug Miguel as he sat on the bench. He hesitated a bit, fingers twitching awkwardly before he hugged them back. “Or not.”

“If one of you could get closer, I could pitch the sound to everyone. And, I could see!”

Everyone turned to Miles.

“Why is everybody looking at me?”

“You can turn invisible, genius,” Gwen said.

He just sighed and faded from head to toe.

“How’s it going Spidey?” you lean back from your hug to look down at him. Your hands rub his shoulders. “You look nice today.”

Miguel averted his eyes, “You’re not supposed to call me that-”

“Outside of HQ or our phone calls. I know, I know. Seriously though, why are you so dressed up today? Got a hot date waiting?”

Miguel tilted his head, “Do I really look nice?”

The shirt he was wearing was barely hiding anything, any tighter and it would have been considered a muscle tee. It was tucked into some slacks with a belt that made his tiny waist even smaller. The pants hugged his thighs just enough.

“Yeah!” More than he could imagine.

“Thanks,” he smiled a bit. “There’s no hot date. Just wearing something casual.”

Your shoulders lifted at the words.

“Cool, cool.”

“You look nice, as well.”

“Really?” you looked down at your last-minute outfit. Some gray joggers you found at a thrift store and a hoodie you’re almost certain has a random bleach stain somewhere on the back. “You’re digging the midnight chic?”

“Midnight chic?”

“Yeah, an outfit you wear when going out for a snack in the middle of the night.”

Miguel pursed his lips, “It looks soft. Comfortable.”

You involuntarily gripped your bag tighter, watching Miguel’s eyes roam you from the neck down.

Lately, he’s been saying things that make your stomach flutter, from being willing to beat up your boss to fussing at you for running errands so late to remembering small details from months ago.

Only recently has his eyes began to wander. He doesn’t catch on as fast when you explain things to him. You’ve caught him staring at you while you’re looking at other things. His smile lingered a little longer. His hands were a lot more careful. Sometimes, he’d tense up when you touched him.

It was all so confusing and the feelings you’ve pushed down for years have crawled their way back up, waiting at the back of your tongue to be announced.

Still, you were just here to help him for as long as he needed you. Nothing more, nothing less.

You cleared your throat, “Okay so, you said you needed help with…Excel?”

“Mm hm,” Miguel nodded and locked his eyes back on your face.

You pulled your laptop, turning up the brightness so that the scenery wouldn’t shoot straight through the transparent device.

“So, this program is like, extremely old.”

“I know, but it's a middle ground for all of the Spiders. Anything newer would be too much for about a fourth of them and anything older would take ages for anyone to complete.”

“Got it,” you inch close enough to Miguel for his cologne to dance around you. He leaned closer to squint at your laptop and you had to will your hands to not shake like jelly. “So, the program is actually pretty simple. You just enter formulas, charts, numbers, or information in these boxes. There’s a lot more manual work than we’re used to, but it won’t take much to get used to.”

You walked Miguel through everything you’ve taught yourself over the past few days. Having him put in formulas and waiting for the result.

“Like this?”

“Almost! You’re missing a letter here.”

“Can you go over it again?”

Miguel's hands would hover over the keyboard, eyes focused and nose scrunched. Sometimes you would fight the screaming in your head and place your hands over his, helping him punch certain numbers in.

“Miguel, I think you’re messing with me. We’ve repeated this same thing on four other sheets now. I know you’re smarter than that.”

He poked his tongue in his cheek, “I’m just quadruple checking. Gotta teach this to some older people.”

“Fine,” you snort. “One more time and then I have to get ready to go.”

“Already?” Miguel turned to you. “I thought you didn’t have to be somewhere until this evening.”

“I don’t, but I can’t go looking like this. You spent 30 minutes arguing with me about the interface. Don’t you have to go back to HQ soon?”

“No.”

There was a noise behind you. You turn around to see nothing but a curved wall embedded with vines.

You put your heart to your chest, “God, I thought that was a reporter or something. Just the wind I suppose.”

Miguel’s eyes stayed planted on the empty space, “On second thought, let me walk you there. Don’t want any surprises.”

“So you don’t need me to go over this for the fifth time?”

“Nope,” Miguel grinned down at you. “I got it the first time, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you laugh as you hit his arm. He doesn’t even flinch. “You’re such a jerk.”

He looked around and got behind you to squat down, tapping on his gizmo. You could only hide so much of him. “Would a jerk swing you to your apartment?”

You look up at him equipped with his mask.

“He probably would, actually.”

“Aw,” Miguel said, red marks for eyes holding so much sadness. “Oh well.”

You yell as he yanks you up by the waist and shoots his web up to the nearest flying car.

“Miles! You almost screwed us over!” Margo did her best to wipe their trace.

“I panicked!” Miles tried to explain himself as he ran on the windows of a skyscraper.

“For what?” Gwen flipped as she connected from one structure to the next. “It was so clear that he meant that he wanted to be with whoever that was, not because he wants to quit HQ.”

“Seeing him like that feels like we met a new man,” Hobie said. His boots were light in the air. “Don’t like it.”

“You say that like he doesn’t let you get away with everything,” Pavitr said.

“Like what?”

“Like giving away food to the street cleaners.”

“Or like pasting your band stickers everywhere.”

“Or painting an ACAB mural.”

“To be fair, Miguel aligns with every single one of those things,” Hobie shrugged.

“This is great and all, but talk about a major fail,” Peter sighed. “He clearly needs a wingman.”

“I thought he did pretty good!” Miles said.

The rest of the group made a range of judging noises.

“His game definitely needs some work and he’s already on his way back to HQ, so hurry it up, guys. We need to hustle and huddle.”

Miguel was at his dock again, preparing to go check out the anomalies of the week. 

He was back doing the thing that distracted him most: thinking about you. 

Yesterday only confirmed what he’s been thinking about ever since you opened your mouth. 

He’s absolutely infatuated with you. 

At first, he thought it was a fluke, a blip in his timeline. No matter how many times your jokes made him chuckle or your smile brought him warmth, he wasn’t going to lean into it. 

But then, you called him one night and your voice brought him back from the darkness that was consuming him. Stories of your life, an exchange of nostalgia, a whisper of hope for the future, and the confirmation that he was more than the error in time that he thought he was. 

You’re something that he more than adored. 

And yet, he still hasn’t figured out how to tell you. 

He wanted more than the monthly meetups to refresh his memory on the stupid tech that kept this building running. 

Truthfully, he could call Gabriel, or worst case scenario, Xina for help, but every time he got a chance it was your name that crossed his mind. 

Miguel sighed as he started to shut some tabs down. 

“Spiders incoming,” Lyla popped up to inform him. 

Miguel saw the gaggle of teens plus Peter walking to his office. 

“Here we go,” he grumbled. 

“Turn that frown upside-down! Company is always good,” Lyla said. 

Before Peter can open his mouth Miguel is beating him to it. 

“What do you want?”

“Ouch!” Peter laughed. “Not up for a bit of family bonding time?”

“Not with you.”

“Oh c’mon, Miguel,” Peter inches forward as Miguel’s platform comes down. “Hear us out.”

“Make it quick.”

The teens all stared at Peter who looked back and forth between them. 

“Do any of you not know what the word ‘quick’ means?” Miguel asked with irritation lining his voice. 

“Well,” Miles started. 

“You see, we were thinking that you might need some help,” Gwen finishes. 

Miguel crossed his arms, “Help with what.”

“Your sad flirting,” Hobie says. 

“What?”

“You know,” Peter puts his arm around Miguel’s shoulders. “You need a wingman!”

Miguel’s frown grew deeper, “What are you talking about? Did you guys spy on me?”

Six voices overloaded Miguel’s eardrums, all explaining their part of some convoluted scheme. 

“Alright, alight! Quiet!” Miguel holds his hands out. “Margo!”

Miguel pinned his eyes to her with his eyebrows pinched. 

She danced from foot to foot, face scrunched, “We just! We were worried about you so we followed you and saw you making googly eyes at someone!” The words spilled out of her like water. 

Everyone but Hobie looked at Margo incredulously. 

“What?” she whined. “He was giving me his disappointed look. The disappointment was torturing me!”

Miguel turned and paced, pinching his nose as he whispered to himself. 

“Miguel, they could help you!” Lyla said cheerfully. “You’ve only been crushing on them for what…multiple years?”

“Lyla!”

“Multiple years? No wonder you’re always so tense. That’s pretty sad, bro,” Pavitr hummed. 

Miguel pointed his finger, “Don’t bro me.”

“Still seeking authority in his moment of weakness. Something’s got to give,” Hobie went to lean on a wall. 

“We really thought something terrible was going on,” Miles’ shoulders drop. “You also go M.I.A. whenever you have a problem.”

“We just wanted to help,” Gwen supplied. 

“Hey man, don’t blame the kids for this one, alright?” Peter’s voice lowered so only the two of them could hear it, albeit a bit useless in a room full of power-holding teens. “Say the word and we’ll stay out of it, but the kids deserve to know why you were canceling on them at least.”

Miguel looked at Peter with an exasperated face before looking at the teens, three of which looked like they were about to cry. 

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and let out a deep breath, “I’m not sick.”

“But lovesick?” Margo asked. 

He gave her a tired look, “Yes.”

“Well why not say that instead of just disappearing?”

“They’re the one who helped make the tech for this society. Without them, there would be no updated gizmos, no updated Lyla, no new ideas. Every time I left it was to…get insight on something here. To fix broken tech.”

“And to stare in their face,” Pavitr snickered. 

Miguel panned his eyes to the floor, too embarrassed to admit it. 

“What’s the hold up in telling them how you feel?” Peter asked. “There’s no time like the present.”

“Don’t tell me yesterday was an example of what happens when you try to confess?” Gwen’s face twisted up, teeth clenched in second-hand embarrassment. 

Miguel’s silence was enough of an answer. 

“Tío,” Miles closed his eyes then looked back up dramatically with his hands out. “¡Vamo’! Sácale, llévale al cine.”

Lyla put a spotlight on Miles and held a microphone out to him while Miguel groaned. 

“Cómprale, un ramo de flores!”

“Ya no puédo mas,” Miguel swiped through the holographic mic. “Eso no va a funcionar.”

Miles slumped, “But how do you know? You haven’t even tried! Bañate, junto con el-”

“Don’t finish that song, Miles,” Miguel’s fingers went to his temples. 

“You should really listen to the lyrics-”

“Why don’t we help you win them over?” Margo stood in between the two, ending the squabble. “It’s clear that they seem to like you too.”

Miguel's eyes went softer staring at Margo’s pleading face, “How do you know?”

“We quite literally saw it,” Hobie spoke as if Miguel lost his mind. “No one ever talks to you that sweet.”

The teens all nodded their head in unison and Peter did a horrible job at hiding his laugh. 

Hobie wasn’t done, “Don’t let someone like that slip through your fingers.”

Miguel was at the park again, dressed up even more than last time. An open navy button-down was tucked into his pants, his slacks were dark gray, and he had on one of the more expensive pairs of dress shoes he owned. A chain he borrowed from Gabriel adorned his neck and he let his hair natural and loose for once. 

Under Miles’ advice, he did buy some flowers. Hobie told him to remain calm, Gwen told him to just talk, Pavitr gave him a bullet point list of what and what not to do, and Margo told him that he was the best no matter how the confession turned out.

Peter went on and on about the importance of love and relationships but Miguel was never inclined to listen to him. He did keep the comment about letting you know how much he means to you to heart, though.

He was so in his own thoughts when you showed up in front of him that he didn’t even notice you at first.

He jumped when you tapped his shoulder.

“Woah, it’s just me. And you’re super dressed up today. What’s the occasion? I’m not taking ‘casual’ for an answer this time.”

Miguel swallowed dryly, grip on the bouquet of cool-toned flowers almost enough to wilt the stems.

“Flowers?” your eyes went to his hand.

“Yeah, um.”

Just breathe, Miguel!

Margo’s perky reminders sounded off in Miguel’s head.

“I brought them for you,” Miguel placed them in your hands.

“Oh!” your face lit up. “These are beautiful. Thank you so much. I didn’t get you anything, though. I didn’t know we were bringing gifts today.”

“No need. I wanted to get them because,” Miguel felt his throat closing in. “I really, really like you.”

The smile on your face dropped as you stared at him.

“It’s been particularly hard over the past years to try to focus without you running through my thoughts and I don’t want the fear of myself or my circumstance to stop me from having a chance to be with you.”

Maybe his ears could pick up how fast your heart was going, too.

“So if you’re willing, will you please go out with me?”

You dropped the flowers and brought him in for a tight hug. 

“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’ll go out with you.”

Miguel was quick to wrap his arms around you today, burying his face in your neck, “No hesitation?”

“I’ve been wanting and honestly, waiting for one of us to make a move for years. You’re always so busy, so I was too nervous to even bother,” you look back at Miguel’s face, smiling from ear to ear.

“Sorry to keep you waiting then.”

You looked from his lips to his eyes, “Can we skip a few steps?”

“Such as?”

You pushed forward, melting into him as you slotted his lips against yours, head full of warmth and clouds. Miguel matched your pace, hand on your back as he pressed against you. When he opened your lips you pulled back, breath dancing against his. 

“Swing me to my apartment?”

Miguel smirked, “Always.”

As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵

[louisferrignojr]

bucktommy actors au and it goes like this

evan buckley, who sort of accidentally gets into modelling/acting after he moves to LA. he gets discovered and cast into a sexy perfume ad and then another sexy music video and he rolls with it because why not, it's easy money and LA is expensive, and he starts getting small roles here and there and eventually lands himself a recurring role as a firefighter on a network procedural (because we love being meta). it's fairly successful and long running, and he's gone from being a recurring character to one of the mains, and he loves his job, he loves the show (almost as much as his sister does) (almost as much as his actual-firefighter brother-in-law hates it)

tommy kinard, former child star who was shoved into the world of Hollywood at the age of 8 and starred in a couple of blockbusters in the early 90s that everyone has seen, who was outed in his twenties and disappeared from the public for like, a decade, and now gets to pick and choose what roles he'll take on, so when he's asked if he wants a small recurring role on his favourite guilty-pleasure show he jumps at the opportunity (and then he finds out he's been cast as the LI for the hunkiest guy on the show? this is his lucky day)

this is buck's first role where he has to kiss a man and he's like whatever it's not a big deal, i'm an ally. he meets tommy and they get along so welllll. buck trying to find every opportunity to hang out with tommy, invites him to go hiking and asks him to read lines together, and tommy is no A-lister but he still has some name recognition and he totally uses it to get them a table at the restaurant with a 6-month waitlist.

and let's say it's a slow burn arc on the show, so they've been filming a few episodes by the time they get to The Kiss. and of course they have to shoot that like 12 times. and buck goes home at the end of the day and he's had a long day he's so tired he just wants to shower and sleep but he lays in bed like. i should text tommy. and then tommy calls him and they're talking and joking and laughing. and they hang up and buck still can't sleep and he's like. what is this weird feeling.

until one day they're hanging out at tommy's house and buck is doing that thing where he's flirting without knowing he's flirting and tommy thinks fuck it and kisses him and buck gets this stupid smile on his face because holy shit everything makes sense now.

[lackadaisycats]

I’m so sorry if you’ve already answered this somewhere, but how do you design your characters?

I’ve been trying to make an OC from the prohibition era and it turns out there’s basically nothing to work with for men’s outfits, so I’m curious how you made this many that look unique and fitting to the characters

There is so much to work with, though! You will tend to find more of a focus on variety in women's fashion, but there is still quite a lot of menswear to ogle too. I suppose it's just a matter of searching out ideas and inspiration in the rights corners. Here are a few suggestions:

Old Clothing Catalogues -

Collections from Sears-Roebuck and other popular clothing retailers are pretty easy to find compiled into relatively inexpensive books, or just floating online.

A fair bit of it is in the public domain now.

--Here's an entire 1922 catalogue of stuff to flip through.

-----------------

Contemporary Artwork -

Some phenomenal illustrators were working in this field amidst the "Golden Age of Illustration" and featured prominently on the covers of magazines and on the ads inside. There was a lot of emphasis on fashion.

Collier's and The Saturday Evening Post are a couple of the more prominent and easily searchable resources. The costuming on the cover art always has a lot of personality.

There's Rockwell, of course, and it's almost impossible to go wrong with J. C. Leyendecker. He's probably best known for his Arrow Collar ad art, but even his sock ads are like…

There were numerous other amazing and influential illustrators working at the time too. Here's a list of some of them. Here's a bonus Henry Raleigh featuring some of his fabulously-dressed people.

-----------------

Blogs and Articles -

There are so many of them! If you want historical accuracy, be wary of write-ups pulling all of their references from film and television. There's nothing wrong with using those for inspiration if you aren't too concerned with historicity, but there are some pretty comprehensive and well-researched things out there with more of an eye on actual fashion history too:

--Gentleman's Gazette - What Men Really Wore in the 1920s

--The Fashionisto - 1920s Men's Fashion

-----------------

Digital Collections -

There are numerous digital historic image collections stemming from universities, museums, libraries, and the government that are free to peruse too.

--The Metropolitan Museum has a searchable catalog of exhibits that includes fashion and photos

--Here's some things from the New York Public Library

-----------------

Photos at Large -

If you aren't sure where to start, image searching for any of Hollywood's early celebrities will typically turn up a bevy of production stills and promotional photography featuring a variety of fashions. Here's a random Getty images search for Harold Lloyd. A lot of standard 3 piece suits, but a lot of stuff with added character too.

Photography was generally quite accessible by the 1920s, though, and you can find a lot of authentic photos of people from all walks of life, out in the wild wearing all sorts of clothes.

This is by no means the limit to the resources available, but hopefully it'll provide some leaping-off points for designing looks for your characters!

[fans4wga]

Writers Guild West Official: Era of Hollywood Mergers Hastened the Strike

August 10, 2023

Laura Blum-Smith, the Writers Guild of America West’s director of research and public policy, considers the strike a result of a tsunami of Hollywood mergers that has handed studios and streamers the power to its exploit workers.

“Harmful mergers and attempts to monopolize markets are a recurring theme in the history of media and entertainment, and they are a key part of what led 11,500 writers to go on strike more than 100 days ago against their employers,” Blum-Smith said on Thursday at an event with the Federal Trade Commission and Department of Justice over new merger guidelines unveiled in July.

She pointed to Disney, Amazon and Netflix as companies that “gained power through anticompetitive consolidation and vertical integration,” allowing them to impose “more and more precarious working conditions, increasingly short term employment and lower pay for writers and other workers across the industry.” But she sees revisions to the merger guidelines that address labor concerns a key part of the solution to prevent further mergers in the entertainment industry moving forward.

“The FTC and DOJ’s new draft merger guidelines are part of a deeply necessary effort to revive antitrust enforcement,” she added. “Compared with earlier guidelines, the new ones are much more skeptical of the idea that mergers are the natural way for companies to grow. And they focus more on the various ways mergers hurt competition, including how mergers impact workers.”

In July, the FTC and DOJ jointly released a new road map for regulatory review of mergers. They require companies to consider the impact of proposed transactions on labor, signaling that the agencies intend to review whether mergers could negatively impact wages and working conditions. FTC commissioner Alvaro Bedoya, who was joined by agency chair Lina Khan, said in a statement about the guidelines that “a merger that may substantially lessen competition for workers will not be immunized by a prediction that predicted savings from a merger will be passed on to consumers.” Historically, transactions have been considered mostly through the lens of benefits to consumers.

The guidelines lack the force of law but influence the way in which judges consider lawsuits to block proposed transactions. They also tell the public how competition enforcers will assess the potential for a merger’s harm to competition.

Antitrust enforcers have steadily been taking notice of negative impacts to labor as a result of industry consolidation. “We’ve heard concerns that a handful of companies may now again be controlling the bulk of the entertainment supply chain from content creation to distribution,” Khan said last year during a listening forum over revisions to the guidelines, in a nod to anticompetitive conduct by studios that led to the Paramount Decrees. “We’ve heard concerns that this type of consolidation and integration can enable firms to exert market power over creators and workers alike.”

Adam Conover, writer and WGA board member, said in that April 2022 forum that his show Adam Ruins Everything was killed by AT&T’s acquisition of Time Warner in 2018 when TruTV’s parent company forced the network to cut costs. He stressed that a handful of companies “now control the production and distribution of almost all entertainment content available to the American public,” allowing them to “more easily hold down our wages and set onerous terms for our employment.” It’s not just writers that are impacted by an overly consolidated Hollywood either, he explained. After Disney acquired 21st Century Fox in 2019, he said that the studios pushed the industry into ending backend participation and trapping actors in exclusive contracts preventing them from pursuing other work.

Blum-Smith said that aggressive competition enforcement is necessary as “Wall Street continues to push for more consolidation among our employers despite the industry’s history of mergers that failed to deliver any of the consumer benefits they’ve claimed that left writers and audiences worse off with less diversity of content and fewer choices.”

“More mergers will leave writers with even fewer places to sell their work and tell their stories and the remaining companies will have even more power to lower pay and worsen working conditions,” she warned. “Strong enforcement against mergers is essential to protect workers in media and workers across the country and these guidelines are an important step in the right direction.”

[sssilverstoned]

love in madrid ꩜ cs55

type: instagram/twitter au

lily said: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while and honestly i've looked at it for too long and now i don't quite like it. nothing to not like though so let me just get it out

masterlist

Liked by yourfriend1, carlossainz55, and 2,112 others

yourusername 1 year in Madrid! I love you I love living in you!

yourfriend1 Moves to Spain and yet acts soooo hollywood yourusername I said I would call you back in a second!!!! yourfriend1 yeah yeah i won't be holding my breath

yourdad ¡Hala Madrid! Did I say that right?

yourusername Hahahaha yes papa. y nada más <3

yourfriend2: ugh miss you booking my ticket to come visit again!

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carlossainz55 added to his story 1 minute ago...

Liked by yourfriend1, carlossainz55, and 2,997 others

yourusername Me, my spicy tuna, and my photographer

yourfriend1 a hat inside is improper btw

yourfriend2 guessing they don't teach that in driving school or whatever they do yourusername you both promised to be nice??? yourfriend3 oh that's fine bc i didn't!

landonorris is that how you hold chopsticks? can't be

yourusername Oh please like you would know

user1: Now you just wait a minute....

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yourusername added to her story 4 minutes ago...

Liked by yourfriend1, carlossainz55, and 4,931 others

yourusername Speeding tickets no longer an issue btw

yourfriend1 Oh good you were starting to rack those up

yourfriend2 girl don't you have a court hearing?? something about expired registration yourusername oh yeah...this is ringing a bell? something about needing a public defender? yourfriend1 fuck BOTH of you

user1 wait her and her friends are funny

carlossainz55 Bonita ❤️

liked by yourusername

user2: OH!

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Liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 624,434 others

carlossainz55 A bit of a in season getaway with mi reina

yourusername I drive next time yeah?

charles_leclerc please no yourusername booooooo this is why no one likes you yourfriend1 I like him 😋

user1 takes girlfriend in a vintage ferrari to a spa .... he can't be real

yourfriend2 Okay princess treatment!

user2 How late are we to this?????

user3 She's soooo pretty Carlos can you fight.

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[ovaruling]

so since i was 16 i’ve collected hollywood fan magazines from the 1910s to the 1940s and i just realized it isn’t super common knowledge what the early mass-market advertisement of media really looked like (unless you already have a historical interest in it)—and also i don’t think women today realize how little has changed from then to now.

i was flipping through my latest acquisition, a Photoplay from 1937 (Photoplay was one of the most popular magazines of the time and had significant influence, to boot—and who made up the majority of its reader base? girls and women!) and i was thinking about how repetitive these narratives are. i have magazines from the 1910s telling women they were ugly. i saw magazines at the store yesterday telling women they were ugly.

the lucrative business of making women paranoid and self-obsessed has been going on for so, so long…

here are examples of some of the ads in just one issue from 1937:

they’ve been doing this to us for well over a century with this level of media distribution. btw.

[macrolit]

By Elisabeth Egan May 18, 2024

“You’d be shocked by how many books have women chained in basements,” Reese Witherspoon said. “I know it happens in the world. I don’t want to read a book about it.”

Nor does she want to read an academic treatise, or a 700-page novel about a tree.

Sitting in her office in Nashville, occasionally dipping into a box of takeout nachos, Witherspoon talked about what she does like to read — and what she looks for in a selection for Reese’s Book Club, which she referred to in a crisp third person.

“It needs to be optimistic,” Witherspoon said. “It needs to be shareable. Do you close this book and say, ‘I know exactly who I want to give it to?’”

But, first and foremost, she wants books by women, with women at the center of the action who save themselves. “Because that’s what women do,” she said. “No one’s coming to save us.”

Witherspoon, 48, has now been a presence in the book world for a decade. Her productions of novels like “Big Little Lies,” “Little Fires Everywhere” and “The Last Thing He Told Me” are foundations of the binge-watching canon. Her book club picks reliably land on the best-seller list for weeks, months or, in the case of “Where the Crawdads Sing,” years. In 2023, print sales for the club’s selections outpaced those of Oprah’s Book Club and Read With Jenna, according to Circana Bookscan, adding up to 2.3 million copies sold.

So how did an actor who dropped out of college (fine, Stanford) become one of the most influential people in an industry known for being intractable and slightly tweedy?

It started with Witherspoon’s frustration over the film industry’s skimpy representation of women onscreen — especially seasoned, strong, smart, brave, mysterious, complicated and, yes, dangerous women.

“When I was about 34, I stopped reading interesting scripts,” she said.

Witherspoon had already made a name for herself with “Election,” “Legally Blonde” and “Walk the Line.” But, by 2010, Hollywood was in flux: Streaming services were gaining traction. DVDs were following VHS tapes to the land of forgotten technology.

“When there’s a big economic shift in the media business, it’s not the superhero movies or independent films we lose out on,” Witherspoon said. “It’s the middle, which is usually where women live. The family drama. The romantic comedy. So I decided to fund a company to make those kinds of movies.”

In 2012, she started the production company Pacific Standard with Bruna Papandrea. Its first projects were film adaptations of books: “Gone Girl” and “Wild,” which both opened in theaters in 2014.

Growing up in Nashville, Witherspoon knew the value of a library card. She caught the bug early, she said, from her grandmother, Dorothea Draper Witherspoon, who taught first grade and devoured Danielle Steel novels in a “big cozy lounger” while sipping iced tea from a glass “with a little paper towel wrapped around it.”

This attention to detail is a smoke signal of sorts: Witherspoon is a person of words.

When she was in high school, Witherspoon stayed after class to badger her English teacher — Margaret Renkl, now a contributing opinion writer for The New York Times — about books that weren’t part of the curriculum. When Witherspoon first moved to Los Angeles, books helped prepare her for the “chaos” of filmmaking; “The Making of the African Queen” by Katharine Hepburn was a particular favorite.

So it made sense that, as soon as Witherspoon joined Instagram, she started sharing book recommendations. Authors were tickled and readers shopped accordingly. In 2017, Witherspoon made it official: Reese’s Book Club became a part of her new company, Hello Sunshine.

The timing was fortuitous, according to Pamela Dorman, senior vice president and publisher of Pamela Dorman Books/Viking, who edited the club’s inaugural pick, “Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine.” “The book world needed something to help boost sales in a new way,” she said.

Reese’s Book Club was that something: “Eleanor Oliphant” spent 85 weeks on the paperback best-seller list. The club’s second pick, “The Alice Network,” spent nearly four months on the weekly best-seller lists and two months on the audio list. Its third, “The Lying Game,” spent 18 weeks on the weekly lists.

“There’s nothing better than getting that phone call,” added Dorman, who has now edited two more Reese’s Book Club selections.

Kiley Reid’s debut novel, “Such a Fun Age,” got the nod in January 2020. She said, “When I was on book tour, a lot of women would tell me, ‘I haven’t read a book in four years, but I trust Reese.’” Four years later, on tour for her second novel, “Come and Get It,” Reid met women who were reading 100 books a year.

Witherspoon tapped into a sweet spot between literary and commercial fiction, with a few essay collections and memoirs sprinkled in. She turned out to be the literary equivalent of a fit model — a reliable bellwether for readers in search of intelligent, discussion-worthy fare, hold the Proust. She wanted to help narrow down the choices for busy readers, she said, “to bring the book club out of your grandma’s living room and online.”

She added: “The unexpected piece of it all was the economic impact on these authors’ lives.”

One writer became the first person in her family to own a home. “She texted me a picture of the key,” Witherspoon said. “I burst into tears.”

Witherspoon considers a handful of books each month. Submissions from publishers are culled by a small group that includes Sarah Harden, chief executive of Hello Sunshine; Gretchen Schreiber, manager of books (her original title was “bookworm”); and Jon Baker, whose team at Baker Literary Scouting scours the market for promising manuscripts.

Not only is Witherspoon focused on stories by women — “the Bechdel test writ large,” Baker said — but also, “Nothing makes her happier than getting something out in the world that you might not see otherwise.”

When transgender rights were in the headlines in 2018, the club chose “This Is How It Always Is,” Laurie Frankel’s novel about a family grappling with related issues in the petri dish of their own home. “We track the long tail of our book club picks and this one, without fail, continues to sell,” Baker said.

Witherspoon’s early readers look for a balance of voices, backgrounds and experiences. They also pay attention to the calendar. “Everyone knows December and May are the busiest months for women,” Harden said, referring to the mad rush of the holidays and the end of the school year. “You don’t want to read a literary doorstop then. What do you want to read on summer break? What do you want to read in January?”

Occasionally the group chooses a book that isn’t brand-new, as with the club’s April pick, “The Most Fun We Ever Had,” from 2019. When Claire Lombardo learned that her almost-five-year-old novel had been anointed, she thought there had been a mistake; after all, her new book, “Same As it Ever Was,” is coming out next month. “It’s wild,” Lombardo said. “It’s not something that I was expecting.”

Sales of “The Most Fun We Ever Had” increased by 10,000 percent after the announcement, according to Doubleday. Within the first two weeks, 27,000 copies were sold. The book has been optioned by Hello Sunshine.

Witherspoon preferred not to elaborate on a few subjects: competition with other top-shelf book clubs (“We try not to pick the same books”); the lone author who declined to be part of hers (“I have a lot of respect for her clarity”); and the 2025 book she’s already called dibs on (“You can’t imagine that Edith Wharton or Graham Greene didn’t write it”).

But she was eager to set the record straight on two fronts. Her team doesn’t get the rights to every book — “It’s just how the cookie crumbles,” she said — and, Reese’s Book Club doesn’t make money off sales of its picks. Earnings come from brand collaborations and affiliate revenue.

This is true of all celebrity book clubs. An endorsement from one of them is a free shot of publicity, but one might argue that Reese’s Book Club does a bit more for its books and authors than most. Not only does it promote each book from hardcover to paperback, it supports authors in subsequent phases of their careers.

Take Reid, for instance. More than three years after Reese’s Book Club picked her first novel, it hosted a cover reveal for “Come and Get It,” which came out in January. This isn’t the same as a yellow seal on the cover, but it’s still a spotlight with the potential to be seen by the club’s 2.9 million Instagram followers.

“I definitely felt like I was joining a very large community,” Reid said.

“Alum” writers tend to stay connected with one another via social media, swapping woot woots and advice. They’re also invited to participate in Hello Sunshine events and Lit Up, a mentorship program for underrepresented writers. Participants get editing and coaching from Reese’s Book Club authors, plus a marketing commitment from the club when their manuscripts are submitted to agents and editors.

“I describe publishing and where we sit in terms of being on a river,” Schreiber said. “We’re downstream; we’re looking at what they’re picking. Lit Up gave us the ability to look upstream and say, ‘We’d like to make a change here.’”

The first Lit Up-incubated novel, “Time and Time Again” by Chatham Greenfield, is coming out from Bloomsbury YA in July. Five more fellows have announced the sales of their books.

As Reese’s Book Club approaches a milestone — the 100th pick, to be announced in September — it continues to adapt to changes in the market. Print sales for club selections peaked at five million in 2020, and they’ve softened since then, according to Circana Bookscan. In 2021, Candle Media, a Blackstone-backed media company, bought Hello Sunshine for $900 million. Witherspoon is a member of Candle Media’s board. She is currently co-producing a “Legally Blonde” prequel series for Amazon Prime Video.

This month, Reese’s Book Club will unveil an exclusive audio partnership with Apple, allowing readers to find all the picks in one place on the Apple Books app. “I want people to stop saying, ‘I didn’t really read it, I just listened,’” Witherspoon said. “Stop that. If you listened, you read it. There’s no right way to absorb a book.”

She feels that Hollywood has changed over the years: “Consumers are more discerning about wanting to hear stories that are generated by a woman.”

Even as she’s looking forward, Witherspoon remembers her grandmother, the one who set her on this path.

“Somebody came up to me at the gym the other day and he said” — here she put on a gentle Southern drawl — “‘I’m going to tell you something I bet you didn’t hear today.’ And he goes, ‘Your grandma taught me how to read.’”

Another smoke signal, and a reminder of what lives on.

[doormatty3]

Set Nerves (Patrick Wilson x Reader)

Masterlist Ao3

Summary

[Patrick Wilson x Female Reader] [Patrick Wilson x You] Acting has always been your passion, but the leap from a small indie film to a big Hollywood production is overwhelming—the set, the people, the intimate scenes. You’ve never even kissed someone on screen, let alone acted out a sex scene. Luckily, your co-star Patrick, with his striking blue eyes and kind smile, has agreed to help you. And how could you possibly refuse when his promise of a home-cooked meal and practise ignites a fire in you that feels like more? OR: How intimate scenes do not work in Hollywood 101

Wordcount: 10,895

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, fluff, smut, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, flirting, cunnilingus

A/N: The main idea from this stems from a dream I had… make of that what you will

You arrive on set and you don’t think you’ve ever been so nervous in your life.  

This isn’t your first film gig - far from it - but you’ve mostly been in indie movies with small casts, small sets, and small expectations. 

But this? This is Hollywood. And you’re fucking terrified.

When your agent called to tell you about the movie, you were overjoyed. But that joy quickly morphed into fear when you read the script. It’s a pretty standard action thriller, but you’re cast as the female lead - the one who shares romantic scenes with the male lead, Patrick Wilson. 

You’ve never even kissed someone on camera, let alone acted out a sex scene. So, you can only hope Patrick is cool and will help you through it and not be annoyed at the mistakes you will definitely make.

As you walk through the bustling set, you see people everywhere, buzzing around and busy. You scan the area for the director and main crew and spot them in a huddle, engaged in deep conversation.

You don’t know most of the people but among them is a very handsome man standing with his back to you. 

He’s tall, with a muscular, broad back that strains the jacket he’s wearing. His short brown hair curls around his ears and the nape of his neck. 

When he turns, you catch his side profile - a straight nose, prominent brows, and plump, pink lips curled into a smile as he laughs. Mesmerised, you trail your eyes over his face, taking notice of how the skin around his eyes crinkles when he laughs and how he throws his head back.

You snap out of your reverie and make your way to them.

The director spots you and waves you over, breaking into a welcoming smile.

"Ah, there she is! Everyone, this is our leading lady," he announces. "And this," he gestures to the handsome man you noticed earlier, "is Patrick Wilson."

Patrick turns fully towards you, and your breath catches in your throat. 

Up close, he’s even more attractive than you initially thought - tall and broad, with a magnetic presence. His eyes, a striking hue of blue, seem to sparkle with an inner light, and his smile is warm and genuine, radiating kindness. There is an inexplicable charm about him, something that reminds you of the serene morning breeze over calm water. 

Now you notice the salt-and-pepper stubble that adorns his face, adding a scruffy, rugged charm to his already captivating appearance. His effortlessly confident yet inviting demeanour draws you in, making it hard to look away.

"Nice to meet you," Patrick says, extending his hand. "I’ve heard great things about you."

You shake his hand, hoping he doesn’t notice the slight tremor in your grip. 

"Nice to meet you too, Patrick," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your stomach. 

As you clasp his hand, you marvel at the way it envelops yours completely. The nails are carefully trimmed, and his fingers are thick and strong, yet his touch is gentle and warm. 

The moment lingers longer than you expect, and you can’t help but notice the subtle roughness of his skin. The sensation of his hand in yours, combined with his striking presence, leaves you slightly breathless. You find yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his blue eyes, which seem to hold you captive. 

You are rudely snapped out of your reverie when the director and crew are called away, leaving you and Patrick standing alone amidst the set.

Patrick entirely turns to you, stepping a bit closer, his smile softening into one of genuine concern. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice gentle. "You seem a bit nervous."

You let out a shy laugh, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Is it that obvious?"

"A little," he admits with a chuckle, the soft smile still etched onto his face. "But it’s completely normal. First days are always a bit overwhelming, especially on a big set like this."

As he speaks, he places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeps through your clothes and resonates deep within you as you feel the strength and comfort he offers. You also catch a whiff of his cologne, a subtle, intoxicating scent that makes your head swim slightly.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thanks. It’s just... this is all so new to me. I’ve never done anything on this scale before."

Patrick nods, his expression understanding. "Don’t worry. We’ll take it one step at a time. If you need anything or have any questions, just let me know. We’re in this together.

His reassuring words and kind demeanour, combined with the physical contact, send a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

"Thanks, Patrick. That means a lot," you say, looking into his blue eyes and feeling a spark between you.

He smiles again, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment longer before he lets go. "We’ve got this," he says confidently, and you can’t help but believe him.

Patrick’s eyes sparkle with kindness, and his smile is dazzling and warm. He’s easy to talk to, his laughter infectious, and before long, you feel the initial tension begin to dissolve.

As you talk, you notice how the light catches the wispy locks of hair around his ear, casting a golden halo that accentuates his strong jawline.

At some point, he tilts his head slightly and asks, "Hey," his voice soft, and his eyes trail onto yours, "I was thinking... if you’re still feeling nervous, maybe you could come over to my place this evening? We can go over the script together and maybe have some food. I think it might help put you more at ease if we talked about it a bit."

You feel your heart skip a beat, the invitation both exciting and nerve-wracking. But the way he looks at you, so earnest and handsome, with his eyes gleaming under the set lights, makes it hard to say anything but yes.

His sincerity is disarming, and the idea of spending more time with him is unexpectedly appealing. "Really?" you say, your voice betraying a mix of surprise and eagerness.

"Yeah," he replies, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. He tilts his head, and the light catches in his eyes, making them glow like sapphires. "It’ll be good to get comfortable with each other off-set. Plus, I make a mean pasta," he adds with a playful grin, his lips curving in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

"That sounds great," you say, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "I’d like that."

Patrick’s smile widens, and for a moment, the chaotic set fades into the background. "Perfect. I’ll text you the address. See you at seven?"

"Seven it is," you agree, already feeling a little more confident about the days ahead. The thought of spending the evening with him, getting to know him better, brings a warmth that eases your earlier anxieties.

_____

You arrive at Patrick’s place at seven, taking a deep breath before stepping out of your car. You didn’t really dress up, knowing that this was meant to be a professional meeting. Still, you opted for a sweater and pants that accentuate your figure and make you feel good about yourself.

Your nerves spike as you ring the doorbell. Moments later, the door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat once more - he seems to have that effect on you.

Patrick stands before you in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. The shirt clings deliciously to his defined biceps, and you can’t help but admire how the fabric stretches across his chest. His blue eyes are striking in the soft light of his house, and his hair is combed back, looking soft and touchable.

"Hey," he greets you with a friendly smile, the same genuine warmth you’ve grown accustomed to. "Come on in."

Before you can say anything, he pulls you into a hug. You melt into his embrace as his strong body envelops you, and you’re engulfed in his intoxicating scent, a mix of cologne and something distinctly him. It’s a brief moment that leaves you feeling both comforted and slightly flustered.

"I made carbonara. I hope that’s okay, " he says, releasing you gently, and you find yourself missing his warmth instantly. 

"That sounds perfect," you say, your voice steadier now. As you follow him inside, you notice the dining table already set with plates and a bottle of wine. The soft lighting casts a cosy glow, making the scene feel unexpectedly intimate.

"Wow, you went all out," you say, smiling at him.

"I wanted to make sure we had a comfortable setting to go over the script," he replies, his eyes twinkling. "Plus, I enjoy cooking. I hope you’re hungry."

"Starving," you admit, feeling more at ease with every passing moment.

He pulls out a chair for you, and you sit down, grateful for his thoughtfulness. "This looks amazing," you say, glancing at the beautifully prepared meal.

Patrick sits across from you, pouring the wine. "Let’s eat first, and then we can dive into the script," he suggests. As he hands you a glass, his fingers brush against yours, sending a spark of electricity through you.

You clink glasses, his smile reassuring you as the evening begins, and you start to feel that maybe, just maybe , this will be a night to remember for all the right reasons.

_____

The conversation flows easily as you sit across from each other, the aroma of the pasta mingling with the rich scent of the wine. You take a bite, savouring the flavours.

"This is amazing, Patrick," you say, genuinely impressed. "You weren’t kidding about being a good cook."

"Thanks," he grins, a boyish charm lighting up his face. "Glad you like it. Cooking is a bit of a hobby of mine."

As the meal progresses, you feel the pleasant buzz from the wine, making you more relaxed. 

Eventually, the conversation shifts to the script. You go over a few scenes, discussing your characters and their dynamics.

Patrick leans back in his chair, swirling his wine. "I remember the first time I had to kiss someone in a movie," he says, his eyes twinkling with the memory.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a blush creeping across your face. You look down at your glass, feeling a bit self-conscious. "I’ve never done it," you admit quietly.

Patrick’s expression softens, and he reaches across the table to gently touch your hand; the contact sends a shiver through you. 

"Hey, don’t worry about it," he says reassuringly. "It’s completely normal to be nervous. The first time, I was a wreck . But it’s all about trust and making sure both of us are comfortable."

You look up at him, appreciating his understanding. "It’s just... a bit intimidating," you confess.

He nods, giving your hand a comforting squeeze before letting go. "I get it. But we’ll take it slow, okay? If there’s anything you need or any way I can help, just let me know."

"I don’t even know the difference between a real kiss and a movie kiss," you confess, feeling a bit embarrassed. "How do you make it look real without it being, well, real ?"

He leans forward, his eyes locking onto yours, sincere and kind. "A movie kiss is all about angles and chemistry. It’s not as intimate as it looks. You’re thinking about the camera, the lighting, hitting your marks. It’s more technical than passionate."

"I can’t imagine it," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It just baffles me for some reason…"

Patrick’s smile is gentle as he continues. "It’s a unique experience for sure, especially if it’s your first time. But trust me, once you’re in the moment, it becomes about the scene and the characters. We’ll take it slow, I promise."

His words soothe you, and you nod, feeling more at ease. "Thanks, Patrick."

"We’ll get through it together," he promises, his eyes twinkling with reassurance. There’s a brief pause before he takes a deep breath, his gaze flickering to your lips for a moment so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it, "I could show you if you want to"

You’re taken aback by the suggestion, your heart skipping a beat. " Show ..me?" you ask, a bit puzzled. 

A part of you hopes he means that he could demonstrate a kiss, and unconsciously, your eyes flicker to his lips, thinking about how kissable they look. You wonder how it would feel, the brush of his stubble against your skin, the taste of his lips. The thought sends a tingling sensation through you, and you quickly avert your gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed by your wandering thoughts.

You reach for the wine glass to take a sip and compose yourself.

"I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable," he says sincerely. "I just thought it might help to visualise it…."

His consideration for your feelings warms your heart. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing pulse. "No, I think... I think it would actually help," you admit quietly, your heart beating quickly in your chest.

"Okay," Patrick says softly, his smile turning encouraging. "Just relax. It’s just acting."

You nod, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Patrick leans in slowly, his movements deliberate and gentle. You feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek as he inches closer, his lips brushing against yours with feather-light pressure.

For a fleeting moment, the world around you fades into the background. You focus on the sensation of his lips, soft and warm, against yours. It’s brief but enough to send a jolt of electricity through you, sparking a rush of emotions you hadn’t expected. Your hands come to rest on his arms.

Patrick pulls back slightly, his intense blue eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath mingling with yours.

You nod, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah…" Your voice trails off as you feel the tingling sensation where his lips had just been. Your gaze instinctively wanders down to his lips again, noticing how inviting they look.

Feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingertips, you trace them softly over the curve of his biceps, a small shiver running through you. "I wanted... I wanted to get a feel for it, you know? Practise ."

His gaze softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a comforting gesture. "I’m glad I could help," he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours again in a soft kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, savouring the tender sensation. Before you can fully process the moment, Patrick kisses you again - deeply and passionately this time. His hands find their way into your hair, gently pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. 

Patrick’s lips are warm and inviting, moving against yours with a tender rhythm. You feel the stubble on his jaw grazing your skin, a gentle contrast to the smoothness of his lips. It’s a sensation that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a spark of desire in your veins, a dull ache that’s spreading through you.

The taste of pasta and wine lingers on your tongue as you kiss him, mixing with the heady scent of Patrick’s cologne - clean, masculine. The world around you fades into insignificance as you lose yourself in the intoxicating feeling of his lips moving against yours.

You kiss him back, your hands instinctively finding their place on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the firmness of his muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt. 

When Patrick finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you both are left breathless and wanting more. His eyes search yours, silently asking for consent and understanding in this uncharted territory.

"Was that okay?" he whispers, his voice filled with tenderness and concern.

You nod slowly, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah," you whisper, licking your lips, savouring the lingering taste. "That was... enlightening ."

Patrick’s smile widens, his eyes twinkling with satisfaction. He pulls back to take a sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving yours. You follow suit, taking a sip to steady your racing heart.

"See? Nothing to be afraid of," he says gently, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

You chuckle softly, feeling a wave of relief and confidence wash over you. "You’re right. Thank you for this... it really helps."

He reaches out, placing his hand over yours on the table. "I’m glad," he smiles, his touch warm and reassuring. "And if you ever need more practice..." His voice trails off, leaving the offer hanging in the air, charged with unspoken possibilities.

You laugh, shaking your head. "Are you saying you’ll practice movie kisses with me more often?"

Patrick chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Only if you want to. I mean, it’s for the sake of authenticity, right?"

"Of course," you reply, your voice teasing as you take another sip of wine. "All in the name of professionalism."

"Exactly," he agrees, his smile widening. "And if it happens to be enjoyable, well, that’s just a bonus."

As you sit there, savouring the moment and the connection you’ve just shared, you start to feel the buzz of the wine more intensely. It makes you bolder, your inhibitions melting away with each passing minute. You take another sip, your eyes lingering on Patrick, noting once more how the white shirt clings to his defined biceps and how his blue eyes sparkle in the dim light.

"So," you say, your voice carrying a playful edge, "do you practice movie kisses with all your co-stars?"

Patrick’s cheeks flush a charming shade of pink, and he looks down, a shy smile playing on his lips. "No, actually," he replies, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and sincerity. "You’re the exception."

You find his blush adorable, a stark contrast to the confident man you’ve seen before. His vulnerability in this moment only makes him more attractive. You can’t help but notice how the light catches the wisps of hair around his ear, making him look even more handsome.

"Really?" you ask, leaning in slightly, your curiosity piqued. "Why me?"

Patrick meets your gaze, his eyes intense and sincere. "Because I want you to feel comfortable," he says softly. "I remember how nerve-wracking my first intimate scene was. I just wanted to help you through it."

His words touch you deeply, and the warmth of the wine spreads through your body, making you feel more relaxed and at ease - but you feel like there is more behind this sentiment.

You look at him, marvelling at how good he looks. His blue eyes are mesmerising, holding a depth that draws you in. The more you glimpse, the more you feel the buzz of the wine, the room around you fading away, leaving just the two of you.

As the conversation flows, you find yourself leaning closer to him, your inhibitions slipping away with each passing second. The wine, his presence, and the undeniable chemistry between you create a heady mix that leaves you feeling both exhilarated and comforted, and it doesn’t help that you know by now that he is a fantastic kisser.

"Patrick," you say softly, your voice carrying a hint of the boldness the wine has given you, "I’m really glad it’s you."

He smiles, his eyes never leaving yours. "Me too," he replies, his voice just as soft. "Me too."

You take another sip of your wine, feeling the warmth spread through your veins, and look at Patrick, a playful glint in your eyes. "You know," you say, your voice light and teasing, "I wouldn’t mind practising with you again sometime."

Patrick grins, his expression both delighted and amused. "Really?" he asks, his eyes twinkling. "I think that can be arranged."

His grin is infectious, and you can’t help but find it incredibly cute. You notice how the light catches the wisps of hair around his ears, making his strong jawline even more striking, and you can’t help but let your gaze linger. 

_____

The wine flows freely as the evening wears on. Your initial nerves have all but vanished, replaced by a growing sense of camaraderie and a buzz that makes you feel bold and uninhibited. Patrick is charming, and witty, and his smile sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

Eventually, you both turn your attention to the script, flipping through the pages together. As you read, you come across an intimate scene that makes you pause. "God, how... how should that work?" you wonder aloud, feeling a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

Patrick looks at you thoughtfully, then says, "We could practise that as well."

You glance at him, shocked by his words, your eyes wide as you feel the dull thrum of arousal spreading through your veins like fire. He notices your surprised reaction and immediately starts to stammer, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I mean, it’s a stupid idea. Forget I said anything."

Your gaze wanders to his hands, noticing how he fiddles nervously with his fingers. You gulp, feeling a strange mix of nerves and excitement. "No, no..." you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I like it."

Patrick’s eyes meet yours, his expression one of cautious hope. "You do?" he asks, his voice tinged with surprise.

You nod, feeling the buzz of the wine and the intensity of the moment, giving you courage. "Yeah," you admit, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yeah, I mean... it would help, right? To make it look more authentic."

He relaxes slightly, his blush fading as he gives you a tentative smile. "Okay," he says softly. "But only if you’re comfortable with it."

You take a deep breath, the reality of what you’re suggesting sinking in. But there’s something about Patrick’s presence, his understanding and genuine concern, that makes you feel safe. "I am," you say finally, your voice steady. Your fingers are brushing against his. His skin is warm and smooth under your touch, sending a thrill through you. "I trust you."

You both take a deep breath, the weight of the decision settling between you. With a nod, Patrick starts to read through the scene, his voice steady and calm. As he describes the actions and emotions involved, you feel a sense of clarity and purpose, the initial apprehension fading away.

"Alright," he says, his voice gentle but firm, "We’ll take it slow, just like with the kiss."

Patrick stands up and holds out his hand for you to take. Before you accept his help, you reach for your wine glass again, taking a long, steady sip to bolster your courage. Then, you place your hand in his, letting him help you to your feet.

"You ready?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nod, a mixture of nerves and determination coursing through you. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He leads you to the bedroom, his hand warm and reassuring in yours as you carry your wine glass in the other. The room is softly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that both excites and calms you.

Once inside, Patrick turns to you, his expression serious but kind. "We’ll start with the basics, just like we did with the kiss. It’s all about trust and making sure you’re comfortable."

You take another sip of your wine, the warmth spreading through you, giving you the confidence to continue. "Okay."

Patrick steps closer, his presence both comforting and electrifying. "Just remember, this is all for the scene. We need to make it look real, but we also need to respect each other’s boundaries."

You nod again, appreciating his careful approach. "Got it."

He places his hands gently on your shoulders, his touch warm and steady. "We’ll start with simple touches, okay?"

"Okay," you breathe, feeling the heat of his hands through your clothes.

Patrick’s hands slide down your arms, his touch sending shivers through you. He leans in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. Finding none, he continues, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that feels intimate and you try to ground yourself by repeating this is just practise like a mantra.

As he moves closer, you can feel his breath on your skin, the scent of him mingling with the wine on your lips. You close your eyes, letting yourself sink into the moment, focusing on the sensations rather than the nerves.

He stops, his face inches from yours, his eyes dark with intensity. "Are you okay?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," you whisper back, feeling a mix of excitement and calm.

Patrick’s lips brush against yours in a soft, exploratory kiss. It’s gentle, testing as if he’s gauging your reaction. You respond, leaning into the kiss, feeling the familiar warmth and softness of his lips. It’s different now, more charged, more purposeful.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "Still okay?"

"Yes," you say, your voice firmer this time, filled with newfound confidence.

Patrick smiles, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Good. Let’s keep going, then."

Encouraged by your response, Patrick leans in again, this time kissing you more deeply. 

His lips part slightly, and you feel the warmth of his tongue as it brushes against yours. The taste of him is a heady mix of wine and something uniquely him - earthy and intoxicating and somehow even more prominent than when you first kissed.

You both lose yourselves in the moment, the lines between acting and reality blurring. Your hands find their place on his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, your hearts racing in unison. "Are you okay?" he asks again, his voice filled with concern and something deeper.

"Yes," you reply, your voice steady but filled with emotion. "More than okay."

Patrick’s eyes soften, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, a fleeting caress that sends a shiver down your spine. 

"I’m glad," he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. "We’ll keep practising, taking it step by step."

Feeling the pleasant buzz of the wine, you find yourself staring at him, completely transfixed by his appearance. The soft lighting in the room plays on his features, highlighting the warmth of his blue eyes and his broad shoulders. 

Unable to resist the impulse any longer, you reach out and run your hand through his hair. It’s as soft as it looks, each strand silky beneath your fingertips. Patrick’s smile widens at the unexpected touch, his teeth flashing as the corners of his eyes crinkle with amusement and affection.

"You like my hair, huh?" he teases gently, his voice filled with warmth.

You laugh softly, feeling a mix of embarrassment and pleasure at being caught in the act. "It’s... really soft," you admit, your voice tinged with admiration.

Patrick chuckles a deep, melodic sound that resonates through the room. "Well, thank you," he replies, his tone playful. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

You smile, still brushing your hand through his locks, combing them away from his face.

"I should probably get us some more wine," Patrick suggests, breaking the quiet moment with a practical suggestion.

You nod, reluctantly letting go of his hair. "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

As Patrick heads towards the kitchen, you can’t help but stare at his arse, noting how perfectly shaped and firm it looks as you take a moment to collect yourself, reflecting on the evening’s events. There’s a warmth in your chest that goes beyond the wine, a burgeoning sense of trust and possibility that extends beyond the rehearsal of a scene. 

You try to tell yourself that it’s just acting, that it doesn’t mean more, but you can’t deny the way he makes you feel, the way the heat has already bloomed low in your stomach and how your panties already feel uncomfortably wet. 

Patrick returns with the wine bottle in hand. You watch him move with fluid grace, his every gesture carrying an easy confidence that is both reassuring and enticing. He pours wine into both your glasses, the soft clink of glass against glass punctuating the silence between you. You take a sip almost instinctively, the warmth of the wine spreading through you.

"Are you ready to continue?" Patrick asks softly, his voice a soothing murmur.

You nod, meeting his gaze with a mixture of anticipation and nerves. He steps closer to you, his presence filling the space between you. With gentle fingers, he slips under your sweater, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort before he slowly pulls your sweater over your head.

The room seems to hold its breath as you stand there in your bra. Patrick’s gaze sweeps over you,  his eyes darkening with appreciation and desire. A blush creeps up your cheeks under his intense scrutiny, but you gather your courage, heightened by the wine, and take a deliberate step closer to him.

"Time to even the playing field, don’t you think?" you say, your voice a mixture of playfulness and a hint of nervousness. 

Your grin is more daring now, emboldened by the wine and the electricity in the air. With a steadying breath, you mirror his earlier actions, your fingers trembling slightly as they find the hem of his shirt. As you pull it off, your fingertips graze lightly over his skin, sending a thrill through your entire being.

The fabric slides smoothly over his shoulders, gliding down his arms and dropping to the floor with a whisper, and you can’t help but marvel at the sight before you that leaves you momentarily breathless.

His chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the contours of well-defined pectoral muscles evident beneath taut, smooth skin, illuminated by the soft, ambient light in the room.

Shadows play across his torso, accentuating the contours and highlighting his athletic build and the defined lines of his abs.

Your eyes wander over his shoulders, broad and powerful, that slope gracefully down to arms chiselled with sinewy muscle. You had admired his arms earlier, but now, seeing them bare, you appreciate them even more - the curve of his biceps and triceps, the subtle flex of muscle beneath his skin, and the prominent vein that traces a path down his forearm to his wrist.

You notice the gentle patch of hair on his chest, starting just below his neck and trailing down, disappearing tantalisingly into the waistband of his pants.

Your heart flutters in your chest as you take in the sight of him, feeling a heady mix of desire and admiration. The wine has added a hazy warmth to your thoughts, heightening your senses and intensifying the moment. 

His eyes meet yours again, a small smile playing on his lips as he interrupts your thoughts. "Shall we continue?" he asks, his voice a low murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. His gaze is locked on yours with an intensity that ignites a rush of heat in your cheeks and a flutter in your stomach.

You nod, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement coursing through you. "Yes," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

With careful movements, Patrick steps closer, his fingertips brushing lightly against your waistband. His touch is tentative yet confident, a gesture of understanding and respect. You look at him as he unbuttons and unzips your pants, a rush of heat spreading through you at the intimate contact.

His movements are unhurried as he helps you step out of your pants, his eyes never leaving yours. The air crackles with tension as he stands before you, his own desire barely concealed beneath the surface. You catch a glimpse of admiration in his eyes as they roam over your form, his appreciation evident even in the dim light.

Once you’re left in your panties, Patrick takes a deliberate breath, his own pants next in line. With fluid motions, he removes them, revealing legs toned from years of physical activity. His movements are deliberate yet unhurried as he steps out of them, leaving him in just his black, tight boxer shorts.

Your eyes fall to his crotch, feeling a pang in your chest when you notice that his cock isn’t even half hard - while you’re sure your pussy is already soaking wet. 

Patrick steps closer, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I’ll have to touch you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mix of desire and professionalism. "And you’ll have to touch me for the scene to look realistic."

Through the haze of the wine and the heat simmering between you, his words momentarily confuse you. But then it clicks - this is supposed to be practice for the sex scene in the movie you’ll both be shooting. Still, the air between you feels charged with something much deeper, something that goes beyond mere acting.

You nod, swallowing hard as you whisper, "That’s okay."

Patrick’s hand trails over your bare back, his touch sending electric sparks across your skin. He pulls you closer, your bodies nearly touching, the heat of his bare chest radiating against your skin. The world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this intimate moment.

"You’re doing great," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. His hand moves slowly, exploring the curve of your spine, the small of your back, and then lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your underwear.

You shiver, your breath catching in your throat. Your own hands, trembling slightly, reach out to touch him, tracing the hard lines of his abs, feeling the strength beneath the smooth skin. 

Patrick’s eyes never leave yours, his gaze filled with both reassurance and raw need. "We need to make it believable," he says, his voice low and rough.

You nod again, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. He leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you cling to him.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. Finding none, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, his tongue parting your lips to explore your mouth, making your head spin again.

You press closer, your bodies aligning perfectly, the friction igniting a desperate need within you. His hands slide down to your hips, pulling you flush against him. With a controlled urgency, he walks you both over to the bed, guiding you down gently and positioning himself above you, between your legs.

His blue eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, you can’t think of anything else, the wine’s warmth and the intensity of the moment completely taking over you. 

Patrick leans over to the nightstand to grab the script, his elbow accidentally brushing against your clavicle. The unexpected contact snaps you out of your reverie, and a laugh bubbles up from your chest. He pulls back quickly, concern flashing in his eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," he says, his voice tinged with embarrassment as he apologises multiple times, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

Your laughter is infectious, and soon, he’s chuckling along with you, the tension easing slightly. The warmth of the moment wraps around you both, making the intimacy feel even more genuine.

"It’s okay," you reassure him, your fingers tracing a soothing path along his arm. "It’s kind of charming, actually."

He smiles, his eyes twinkling with affection and a hint of amusement. "Charming, huh? I’ll take that."

You bite your lip and look up at him, still grinning. The playful banter helps ease some of the nervous energy buzzing between you.

Patrick’s expression turns more serious, though the warmth never leaves his eyes. "Alright," he says softly, "I guess we should start now, so you can practice."

He positions himself and begins to fake thrust, his movements careful and deliberate. You feel his crotch brushing against your cunt through your clothes, the friction sending a jolt of unexpected arousal pooling within you. Your breath catches, and for a moment, you lie there stiff, your mind reeling from the sensation.

Sensing your tension, Patrick starts making corny jokes to lighten the mood. "Did you hear about the actor who fell through the floorboards?" he asks with a playful grin. "He was just going through a stage."

You can’t help but giggle, his effort to make you laugh easing some of your nerves. He continues, "Why don’t we ever tell secrets on a movie set? Because the walls have ears!"

Your laughter bubbles up again, the sound easing the tight knot of anxiety in your chest. Patrick smiles down at you, clearly pleased with your reaction.

"Better?" he asks, his voice warm and reassuring.

"Yeah," you nod, still smiling. "Much better."

"Good," he says encouragingly. "But you have to participate more. Try to fake moan, and don’t forget to touch me... make it believable."

You groan, feeling the weight of the situation and the need for more courage. "I need more wine," you declare, reaching over to your glass and taking a big sip. The liquid warmth courses through you, fortifying your resolve.

Patrick watches you with an amused smile as you set the glass down. "Ready now?" he asks, his tone light but his eyes serious and soft.

You nod, placing the glass back on the nightstand. You take a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the wine spreading through your body, giving you a bit more courage. "Okay, let’s do this."

Patrick resumes his movements, his hips gently pressing against you. This time, you allow yourself to relax into the sensation, your hands sliding up his arms, feeling the strength and warmth of his muscles beneath your fingers. You start to move in sync with him, your body responding to the rhythm.

You let out a tentative moan, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sound. Patrick’s smile widens, and he leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, reassuring gesture.

"That’s it," he murmurs encouragingly, his eyes locking onto yours. "Just like that."

The friction of his thrusts, even through your clothes, sends sparks of pleasure through you, heightening your arousal. You let yourself get lost in the moment, in the feel of his body against yours, in the way his eyes stay locked on you, full of both desire and reassurance.

Patrick’s smile widens, and he leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, reassuring gesture.

You return the kiss, your hands trailing down his back, feeling the play of muscles under your touch. The fake thrusts become a bit more deliberate, the friction between your bodies sending jolts of desire through you. You moan again, louder this time, as his clothed dick brushes over your clothed clit, the sound mingling with the soft pants of your breath.

"Perfect," Patrick whispers against your lips. "Just keep doing that."

You respond with a louder moan, your hands exploring his back with more confidence, your body moving in sync with his. The sensation of his clothed erection rubbing against you drives you wild, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like without the barriers between you.

The wine buzzes in your system, adding to the hazy, intoxicating atmosphere. Patrick’s hands roam your body, his touch both gentle and firm, guiding you through it. The combination of his encouragement, the arousal pooling within you, and the heat of the moment make you forget everything else, leaving only the two of you, lost in the passion and intensity of your connection.

You start to get bolder, your cunt uncomfortably wet, and your nipples hard and stiff under your underwear. Each thrust makes you more aware of his growing hardness pressing against you. It’s clear this isn’t leaving him indifferent. His blue eyes are dark and blown wide with lust.

The words slip out before you can stop them. "I’m completely naked in the scene."

Patrick stops, his movements halting as he looks at you, serious but smiling. "Really?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes. He searches your eyes, trying to gauge your meaning. 

You giggle, the wine making you feel braver and more carefree. "Yeah, we should make it more believable."

Patrick’s smile widens, and he leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. 

Your heart races, the reality of the situation mingling with the fantasy you’ve been lost in. "Yes," you whisper, the word escaping your lips before you can second-guess yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his gaze searching yours for any hesitation. Finding none, he nods. His hands move to the waistband of your underwear, pausing briefly as if giving you one last chance to change your mind. When you don’t, he slides them down slowly, the fabric gliding over your skin, leaving you bare before him.

The cool air against your exposed skin only heightens your arousal. Patrick’s eyes darken further as they roam your body, his appreciation evident in his gaze. You wonder if he can see just how wet you are, the thought making your cheeks flush and your cunt tighten with anticipation.

Before you can think, he places one big hand on your shoulder, pulling you up slightly so he can reach your bra, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cool air. He unhooks it deftly, sliding it over your shoulders and down your arms, leaving your breasts exposed.

You shiver, a mix of anticipation and the cool air causing your nipples to harden even more. Patrick’s eyes lock onto your breasts, his breath hitching as he takes in the sight. He licks his lips, and you can see the raw desire in his eyes, making your heart race even faster.

"You’re beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and reverent as he stares at you. His fingers twitch at his sides as if he wants to reach out and touch you, but he shakes his head in a quick motion before he stands up, quickly shedding his own underwear.

Your eyes are drawn to his cock. He’s big, his length impressive even in its semi-hard state.  It rests in a bed of neatly trimmed pubic hair, his balls hanging heavy with a promise of what’s to come. He’s uncircumcised, and you can see the head peeking out, glistening with precum.

Your mouth waters at the sight, an involuntary reaction to the sheer desire coursing through you. You can feel your core clenching with need, your body aching for his touch. 

The sight of him, completely naked and aroused, sends a wave of heat through your body, your nerve endings singing with want and arousal.

The urge to reach out and take him in your hand, to feel the weight and warmth of him, is almost overwhelming. You try to remind yourself that this is only for practising a scene, but the intensity of your arousal makes it difficult to focus on anything other than the man before you.

Every detail of him captivates you - the way his muscles shift under his skin, the confident yet gentle way he moves, and the raw desire in his eyes as he looks down at you. 

He clears his throat, his voice breaking the tension slightly. "You know, we’d normally wear a modesty garment for scenes like this," he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.

You giggle, the wine wreaking havoc on your inhibitions, making you feel bolder and more carefree. "It’s okay," you say, reaching for his hand and pulling him down towards you.

Patrick lets himself be guided, his body flopping down on the bed beside you, clearly also impacted by the wine. 

"So you want to continue to practise?" he asks, slightly breathless. His eyes search yours, checking for any sign of hesitation.

You nod, and he leans in, his breath warm against your skin as he positions himself between your legs again. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips before capturing them in a kiss that’s both tender and fiercely passionate.

The kiss deepens, your bodies pressed together, the heat between you growing. Patrick’s hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every line, as if committing them to memory. The sensation is almost overwhelming, your senses heightened by the intensity of the moment.

He starts to fake thrust again, his half-hard cock bumping against your clit, making you arch against him and let out a real moan.

Patrick instantly stops, his eyes widening. "Sorry, this might be a bad idea," he says, his voice filled with concern and regret.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. "It’s okay," you assure him, though you can feel the tension still hanging in the air, afraid that he’d stop whatever this is.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I didn’t mean to... I just..."

"It’s fine, really," you interrupt gently, placing a hand on his cheek before pulling him down for a kiss again. The touch of your lips against his seems to melt away his doubts, and he responds with a fervour that sends shivers down your spine.

His hands resume their exploration, tracing the lines of your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished. The wine buzzes in your system, blurring the lines between reality and the scene you’re practising.

You feel him hardening further against you, the friction of his cock against your clit sending sparks of pleasure through you. The feeling of his bare skin against yours only heightens the sensation, making you crave more - crave him more.

Patrick’s kisses trail down your neck, each one igniting a trail of fire on your skin. His hands move to your hips, his touch both gentle and commanding. He leans in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s both tender and fiercely passionate.

Your desire for Patrick to throw all his principles to the wind and just fuck you grows more intense with each passing second. His now fully hard cock continues to brush against your clit, each movement sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body, making you whimper and moan uncontrollably. 

Your skin feels hot, and flushed with arousal, and every nerve ending is alive, screaming for more.

You close your eyes, unable to bear looking at him - his gorgeous blue eyes, lips parted and slightly swollen, framed by his tousled hair. You try to pretend you don’t want him, but the feeling is overwhelming and impossible to ignore. His breath is hot against your skin, his scent intoxicating, mingling with the faint aroma of wine.

You want to shift your hips so he’d slip inside, desperate to feel the stretch you know his cock would provide. You’re so wet, and you can feel his precum smearing over your cunt whenever he bumps against it, making the friction even more tantalizing. The heat between your legs is unbearable, a molten pool of desire that only he can quench.

Unable to resist any longer, you finally shift your hips, and the very tip of his cock slips into you. It’s not even an inch, but the sensation is electric, and you moan loudly, and freely. Your whole body trembles with anticipation and need.

But Patrick stills immediately.

You open your eyes to find him looking at you, his cock twitching inside you. His blue eyes are dark with lust, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. He’s breathing heavily, his face a mix of desire and concern, but he hasn’t moved a muscle.

"Patrick..." you whisper, your voice trembling with need, your body arching towards him, the head of his big dick already feeling so wonderful.

He swallows hard, his gaze locked onto yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice barely more than a breath, his tone filled with raw, unfiltered longing.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. "Yes," you manage to say, your voice filled with conviction. "I want this. I want you ."

For a moment, he doesn’t move, as if he’s waging an internal battle with himself, his blue eyes searching yours one last time. 

But then, his resolve seems to crumble. 

He shifts his hips slightly, the head of his cock pressing just a little further inside you. The sensation is exquisite, and you can’t help but let out another moan, your body arching toward him, your skin tingling with the heat of arousal.

Patrick leans down, capturing your lips in a fierce, passionate kiss as he begins to push inside you, slowly, inch by inch. The feeling of him filling you is everything you imagined and more, the stretch and heat of him making you gasp with pleasure, your cunt clenching around him.

His cock is thick and hard, pressing against your inner walls in the most delicious way. The friction is intoxicating, sending waves of pleasure radiating through your entire body.

"God, you feel amazing," he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands roam over your body, one coming up to cup your breast, his fingers teasing your nipple until it hardens completely under his touch. The sensation makes you cry out, your body responding eagerly to him.

His eyes darken further as they roam over your body, his gaze hungry and appreciative. The raw desire in his eyes makes your heart race even faster, the intensity of the moment almost overwhelming.

Patrick’s movements become more confident, his thrusts deeper and more purposeful. He squeezes your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, and the combined sensations of his cock and his hands drive you wild. The rhythm he sets is perfect, each stroke hitting just the right spot inside you, his thumb flicking your nipple sparks of desire straight to your core.

His eyes are dark and intense, his gaze never leaving yours as he fucks you. The room fills with the sounds of your shared passion - the slick, wet noises of him sliding in and out of you, the gasps and moans that escape your lips, and the low, guttural sounds he makes.

Your skin is on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. The pleasure builds with each thrust, mounting higher and higher until it’s almost too much to bear. Your body tightens around him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

His pace quickens, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "I can’t do this long," he groans, his voice strained with the effort of holding back and his thrusts becoming more urgent and desperate. "I don’t think I can hold on much longer... I’m too close."

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him inside you. "Don’t stop," you plead, your voice breathless and filled with need. Your hands grip his shoulders, feeling the muscles shift and tense under your touch as he thrusts into you.

Patrick’s thrusts become more urgent, more desperate, driving you both closer to the edge as his pubic bone rubs against your clit. You cling to him, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure becomes overwhelming.  You can feel his cock swelling, the head pressing against your inner walls with increasing intensity.

Suddenly, with a final, powerful thrust, he shudders and gasps, his body tensing as he reaches his climax. You feel the hot rush of his cum filling you, his cock pulsing inside you as he spills himself deep within you. The sensation pushes you to the brink, but just as you’re about to fall over the edge, he stills, his head dropping to your shoulder.

Patrick’s breathing is ragged, his body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, a perfect echo of your own. Your pussy clenches around him as you whimper, not having cum yet.

He lifts his head to look at you, his blue eyes filled with a mix of wonder and satisfaction. "I’m so sorry," he murmurs, his voice filled with embarrassment. "I came before you. I didn’t mean to..."

You can see the concern in his eyes, the worry that he’s let you down. But the sight of him, so raw and vulnerable, only makes you want him more. "It’s okay," you whisper, your voice soft and reassuring, accustomed to not being brought to orgasm by your partner.

"No, it’s not," Patrick says, his voice firm. He kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that makes you moan into the kiss.

He pulls out, and you whine at the loss, feeling his thick cock slipping out, leaving your cunt empty and leaking his cum. Patrick hushes you gently, reaching down and brushing his thumb over your clit. 

"Relax," he murmurs, and with that, he plunges two of his thick fingers into your cunt. "God, you look so well fucked. Your pussy is gaping… and so full of my cum."

You gasp loudly as he uses his fingers to fuck his cum further into you. 

His fingers are big and skilled, curling inside you to hit that perfect spot with each thrust. The sensation of his cum being pushed deeper into you ignites the nerves through your body, making you arch against him.

Patrick’s thumb circles your clit in time with his thrusting fingers, creating a delicious rhythm that has you gasping for breath. "You’re so wet," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel how close you are."

Your legs tremble as the pleasure builds, your body tightening around his fingers. His touch is relentless, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The sounds of your wetness fill the room, mingling with your desperate moans.

Finally, the pressure becomes too much, and you cry out, your body convulsing as you cum hard around his fingers. Patrick doesn’t stop, his fingers and thumb working you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure until you’re shaking with the intensity of it.

As you come down from your high, Patrick withdraws his fingers slowly, watching you with a satisfied smile. But he isn’t done yet. He shifts down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. "I want to taste you," he says, his voice husky with desire.

Before you can respond, he lowers his mouth to your pussy, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit. The sensation makes you gasp, your body still hypersensitive from your orgasm. His tongue is warm and soft, and he laps at you with an eagerness that sends shivers down your spine.

Patrick’s mouth is relentless, his tongue delving into your pussy to taste the mix of your arousal and his cum. He groans against you, the vibration adding to the pleasure. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open for him as he feasts on you, his tongue and lips driving you wild.

When he finally focuses on your clit, sucking it gently into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, you’re already teetering on the edge again. The intensity of his mouth on you, combined with the aftershocks of your previous orgasm, quickly builds you up to another peak.

But Patrick stops there. 

He lifts his head and crawls up your body, his eyes dark with desire. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, "Open your mouth." Your heart races as you obey, and he spits the mixture of your juices and his cum into your mouth. The intimate, filthy act sends a new wave of arousal through you, and you swallow it eagerly, your eyes never leaving his as you moan.

He smiles at your reaction, then moves back down between your legs. His tongue delves into you with renewed fervour, his mouth working you over with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He laps at your folds, his tongue thrusting into you and then flicking over your clit, making you writhe beneath him.

His fingers join in again, thrusting into you while his mouth lavishes attention on your clit. The combination of his skilled fingers and his insatiable mouth drives you wild, each sensation building on the last until you’re on the edge once more.

You feel the pleasure building again, higher and higher, your body tightening in anticipation. When you finally cum, it’s with a force that leaves you trembling, your cries echoing in the room as Patrick continues to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your orgasm, your body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crash over you. 

He finally pulls back, his face glistening with your juices, and he smiles up at you with a look of pure satisfaction. "You’re incredible," he murmurs, crawling back up to lie beside you, his fingers gently brushing your hair from your face. "And I’m not done with you yet."

"W-what?" you whisper, completely fucked out,  your cunt still twitching and buzzing from your repeated orgasms.

He smirks, impossibly handsome in the dim light. His blue eyes are still dark and blown wide, his curls sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat, making his muscles glisten.

"You heard me," he nuzzles his nose against you before kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with renewed hunger.  You can feel him hard against you, his cock pressing into your thigh, his desire evident.

His hands roam over your body, cupping your tits and squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.  The sensation sends electric jolts straight to your cunt, making you moan into his mouth and clench around nothing. 

Patrick pulls back and begins trailing kisses down your neck and shoulder, his touch igniting a fresh spark within you. He then turns you over onto your stomach gently, guiding you into position.

"Hold onto the headboard," he instructs, his voice husky with desire.

You take a moment to respond, and your mind is hazy with arousal and the lingering effects of the wine. Patrick’s hands caress your back, and he asks softly, "Are you okay?"

You nod, feeling a new surge of arousal. You throw your ass back a bit, presenting yourself to him, and grab the headboard. 

He laughs softly, the sound filled with warmth and amusement, and presses a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Good girl," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot and sending shivers down your spine.

Patrick’s hands move down your back, tracing the curve of your spine before settling on your hips. His fingers dig into your flesh, and the sensation of his touch makes you feel even more aroused, your body aching for more as you feel the heat he emanates.

He takes a moment to align himself, the head of his cock pressing against your pussy. The mix of your wetness and his cum makes the slide smooth as he pushes into you, filling you once more.

The sensation is intense, the stretch almost overwhelming as he fills you up inch by inch for a second time. You moan loudly, your fingers tightening around the headboard as he bottoms out inside you, his cock deep and hard and feeling somehow bigger from that angle.

Patrick’s fingers dig into your hips as he starts to thrust slowly. Each movement sends ripples of pleasure through your body, and you moan, pushing back against him. 

His hands grip your hips, pulling you back to meet his movements, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Every thrust hits that perfect spot inside you that makes your toes curl, making you gasp and moan with each one.

"Fuck, you feel amazing," he groans, his voice thick with pleasure. Patrick’s hands roam over your back, sliding up to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples, adding to the overwhelming sensation. The way his hands play with your tits sends another wave of arousal through you, your nipples hard and sensitive under his touch.

Your mind is a haze of pleasure, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Patrick’s rhythm increases, his cock sliding in and out of you with a steady, relentless pace, each one filling you up in a way that leaves you breathless and wanting more. The sound of your bodies moving together fills the room, accompanied by your moans and his groans of pleasure.

You feel yourself getting closer, the knot of pleasure tightening in your core. Patrick’s hand slides down your body, finding your clit and rubbing it in quick, tight circles. The dual stimulation is too much, and you cry out, your body tensing as your orgasm crashes over you with a force that leaves you trembling and breathless. Your pussy clenches around him, your moans loud and uninhibited.

Patrick keeps moving, prolonging your pleasure, and his own thrusts grow more erratic. "Fuck," he groans, burying himself deep inside you as he comes, his cock pulsing and filling you with his cum once more. 

The feeling of his warmth inside you only intensifies your pleasure, making you cry out again as the waves of your orgasm continue to wash over you.

You collapse onto the bed, letting go of the headboard - spent. He stays there for a moment, both of you catching your breath before he slowly pulls out and collapses beside you, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close as you both come down from your high. The sensation of him slipping out of you leaves you feeling both empty and satisfied, your cunt still buzzing with the aftermath of your orgasm.

"You’re amazing," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You smile, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction and contentment. "You too," you reply softly, snuggling closer to him.

Patrick shifts behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close until your back is pressed firmly against his chest. His body is warm, a comforting contrast to the cool sheets beneath you. His hand settles possessively on your waist, fingers splayed across your skin as if to keep you anchored to him.

The sensation of being spooned by him is almost overwhelming in its tenderness. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, his breath warm against the nape of your neck. Every inch of him moulds perfectly against you, his presence both soothing and electrifying.

"You feel so good," you manage to whisper back, your voice thick with fatigue. Your muscles are deliciously sore, every movement reminding you of the intensity of your connection just moments ago. The heady mix of the wine and the afterglow of sex has left you in a blissful haze and pleasantly drowsy, your body buzzing with a languid, satisfied warmth.

Patrick’s hand begins to draw lazy circles on your hip, the simple gesture incredibly intimate and grounding, his lips brushing against your shoulder in a feather-light kiss.

A soft smile tugs at your lips, your eyes drifting closed as the exhaustion from the night’s events settles over you like a warm blanket. 

He tightens his hold on you slightly, his body curling protectively around yours. The weight of his arm, the solidity of his presence, and the rhythmic beating of his heart against your back all work together to lull you into a state of deep relaxation.

As you begin to drift off, you feel Patrick nuzzle his face into your hair, his breath steady and even. The scent of him - clean sweat and a hint of cologne - envelops you, further grounding you in the moment. You feel utterly safe and cherished in his embrace, every worry and stress from the outside world melting away.

The combination of physical exhaustion and the wine coursing through your system makes it impossible to keep your eyes open any longer. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling deeper into Patrick’s embrace, your body fitting perfectly against his.

"I could stay like this forever," you whisper, your words barely more than a breath.

Patrick’s lips brush against your ear in a gentle kiss. "Me too," he whispers back. "Sweet dreams."

With his words lingering in the air, you finally let yourself succumb to the overwhelming fatigue. The last thing you register is the steady, comforting rhythm of Patrick’s breathing and the reassuring weight of his body against yours, grounding you in a sense of peace and contentment that lulls you into a deep sleep.