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seokgyuu · 2 months

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Strawberry Wine - Part 1

Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this part) MDNI!

Synopsis: After breaking off your engagement to your cheating fiancé, you decide to take the planned trip to Paris anyway. A vacation alone with the honeymoon suite all to yourself seems like the perfect distraction. Just that, due to an internal error at the hotel lost soul Jihoon, who still isn't over his first love's death five years ago, is staying in the same honeymoon suite as you.

Warnings (in this part): mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, angst, probably a not so good description of paris tbh, the word "cock" is mentioned once, slight sexual tension

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: hi everyone!! this is part one of my story for the world tour collab hostes by @svthub!! check out the masterlist here! this one is a bit of a... beginning, i guess, lol. the real drama and smut and all that will be in part two. but i still think this is a a fun part to get to know our characters! this not beta read and i might edit it later... thanks for reading i hope you enjoy <3 header & divider credit to @okiedokrie!

one; the author

The flash of the camera goes off and you’re almost sure your eyes were closed. The teenage girl next to you smiles brightly and waves at you once more before rushing off to go over to her mother. You lightly smile back and look over to your right where Minghao is giving you a thumbs up. Apparently, so you interpret his gesture, you’re holding up quite well for someone who just caught her fiancée cheating two weeks ago.

You’re aware that you could have canceled the book signing today. No one would have been mad. But even though your heart is shattered to a million pieces and you don’t think you’ll ever heal from this hurt - you still need to earn money and make those who give you that money happy. Just sucks that the person you build this with is somewhere on the Bahamas with your biggest rival on the romance book market. Or, well, as your publisher says: your bestest friend on the romance book market. Since you’re both making money, of course. You can’t count the times you and her have been sent to events together, not saying a word to each other on the way there and playing happy family the second you are in front of the cameras.

Her books weren’t even good! Boring and predictable if anyone asked you. Your ex had always agreed with you, even if he was her agent as well as yours. But Jaehyun was slick - he told her the same about your books.

“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.

“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?”

The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you.

“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well.

“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.

“Best friend dearest,” he starts, “you know what I meant. Considering you have been in your room with no lights on and Adele on repeat for the last few months - you did exceptionally well socializing with people you don’t know.”

“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?”

“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”

Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different.

Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time.

The city lights are what keep you awake. Exhaustion and the feeling of sadness that you have become so used to are close to make you falter, to make you want to go home and put those Adele songs right back on repeat. It’s not fair, you think. Not fair that your life was ruined this way and you can’t get back up. That all you’re able to do is live because you have to, not because you want to. And the closer July 17th comes - the more you feel yourself falling deeper into a hole.

It’s hard to believe that three months ago you were a completely different person. A person who loved to laugh, who had fun game nights with her friends, cooked every day, went for runs in the morning, planned a wedding. You were a person who loved to love. All of this was accompanied by the person you had been sure you’d spend the rest of your life with: Jaehyun. He was tall, handsome, kind. You had met him through work - he had been assigned your agent when you switched publishers. He was your muse. Helped you with your books, made the sales sky rocket with the way he marketed you.

For five years he was your everything. In some ways (ways you loathed) he still is. Your whole life revolved around him. Wherever you went - he did too. Whenever you fell - he was there to catch you. Nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for what was going to happen. But then again, when is someone ever prepared to be cheated on by the person they trusted the most in their life?

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Accidentally finding the messages he sent to her on his iPad. Confronting him and seeing his face fall, his expressions change into something you had never thought possible. He looked caught. Mainly because he was. Also because he never thought the truth would come to light. You had been the only one left in the dark. Everyone at the publishing house knew what he was doing. He and her.

It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but in the beginning you couldn’t handle being mad at Jaehyun. Instead you focused all your anger on her, all the hurt you felt. It wasn’t like you had particularly liked her before - she was your rival, the person everyone always compared you to. She was younger than you, didn’t have as much experience - but she was more successful. At least to an extent. Her books regularly went viral on ‘booktok’, mainly because she wrote them like she worked in a factory. Every couple of months there’d be a new one - and people ate it up. You, on the other hand, liked to take your time, liked to write stories with captivating characters, with characters people could relate to - fall in love with.

Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything.

It is a little different now. 100 days later and you feel like you don’t love him as much anymore. Yes, it still hurts like hell and, yes, you want to stay home most of the days. But you don’t miss him as much as you used to.

“Do you want to grab a drink?” Minghao asks now even though he already knows the answer. Gosh, you wish you could give him a yes. A smile and a yes. Instead, you only present him with the first, stretching out your hand and reaching for his.

“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”

Minghao nods slowly, a sad smile on his pretty lips. He understands, he really does. But he also misses his happy best friend. Misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile wholeheartedly , misses the sound of you honest laugh. No matter how many time will pass, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive Jaehyun for what he’s done to you.

Fighting with a french man on the phone at the crack of dawn surely had not been on your agenda for today.

“I’m sorry, miss, but the cancellation period ended two weeks ago, there is nothing we can do.”

It’s too early and you are too tired. He is probably too by now, considering he has been saying this sentence at least five times in the past seven minutes. You pull a hand through your hair and let it drop back onto the mattress after.

“My wedding isn’t happening anymore, and you really won’t let me cancel the honeymoon suite?” Usually, you’d never snap at anyone over the phone - especially custom service personnel, but this is different. What he’s implying means you won’t get any money back from one of the most expensive purchases you’ve made. Worst thing about this: you paid for this yourself. Jaehyun had paid the location - which of course could still be canceled. But the freaking hotel stay in Paris of course was set in stone!

“I am very sorry, miss. I wish there was more that I could do. Perhaps you can take the trip yourself and enjoy our beautiful honeymoon sui-“

You hang up on him. It’s not polite, you’re aware. But just the thought of being alone in the suite you were supposed to enjoy with your freshly baked husband… no, absolutely not. Then, fine, you’d have to live with having spent thousands of dollars on a hotel suite you wouldn’t be able to use.

As if life isn’t horrible enough already.

When you sit at brunch later that day with Minghao and your mutual friend Mingyu, they both stare at you like you’ve just told them you decided to get Jaehyun’s face tattooed on your thigh.

“Are you kidding me? You basically get to have a Paris vacation for free for yourself!” Mingyu says, the glass of mimosa he is holding in his hand is almost spilling with the way he moves his arm. You scoff.

“What do you mean “free”? I literally paid for it months ago!”

“Okay, and did you already make that money back?” Mingyu continues and raises his brow. You stay silent for a moment.

The restaurant Minghao chose is filled with people enjoying the vegan food made from scratch. Your own very delicious avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit and soy-yogurt is laying in front of you, waiting to be eaten. The mimosa Minghao had ordered for you remains untouched.

“She has.” Hao decides to answer for you as he sips from his mug of matcha. You shoot him a glare.

“So what! I’m not going to go to Paris by myself when this was supposed to be my honeymoon!” You try to stay quiet, looking from Minghao to Mingyu and back. Judging by their faces, they don’t seem to understand the big deal.

You envy them. God, how much you wish you could just do it. Go on that already paid for vacation by yourself, not give a single damn about Jaehyun and his new girlfriend. Your heart sinks. Just thinking these words is making you feel like crawling back into bed.

Minghao groans and puts his mug back on the table.

“Y/N,” he starts and his voice sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him talk before - even Mingyu seems startled, “I get it, okay? I get that he hurt you, that he made you believe in something that was never going to work. He is an asshole, if not the biggest asshole walking freely on this earth. But you’re young! You’re young and you deserve better than this! Keeping to yourself, barely leaving your apartment - your bed, honey, it’s not good for you. I understand that you want to stay away, that the world is a fucking scary place without the person you thought was your person right there next to you,” he grabs your hand over the table, “but do you know what all of this means? That your person is still out there! That you can still find them! And what better place to start than Paris, the literal city of love!”

He means well. Just like the other night after the book signing. He means well and he wants just what’s best for you. No one wants you to feel better as much as he does. Then why does it make you so mad that he is asking this of you? That he is calling you out this way?

You pull your hand away from his and grab your purse from the free chair next to yours. Both men gawk at you, startled.

“Y/N-,” Mingyu tries, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

“You get it, Hao? Really? Has your significant other of five years also cheated on you with your biggest rival? Did you also have to cancel a wedding you put hours and hours of work and money into? Because I don’t remember this happening to you! So, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the time I need to grieve this relationship and decide for myself when I am ready to get out again!”

Without giving them another look, you storm out of the restaurant. Everything around you is a blurr and you only notice that you’re crying when you reach your car. Cursing to yourself, you move to open your car, tears dripping from your cheeks down onto your shirt. God, what a pathetic little woman. Crying in your car after yelling at your best friends for what? For caring? For only meaning to help?

It takes a while before you manage to start the engine and get on the road to drive home. The radio is silent and for a second you wished you could turn off your brain the same way. Just one switch and all thoughts gone. All the self doubts and the hurt, all the thoughts of what-if and the wish to travel back in time and never have you take his iPad.

You stop at a red light and wipe away some more tears. You don’t dare to look into the mirror and check your make-up.

Never finding the iPad, you circle back, if you had never found it, you wouldn’t be in this situation. No, you’d most likely still be in a relationship with a man that cheated on you. That didn’t love you half as much as he claimed, that didn’t deserve the time and care you’d given him.

When the light turns green, you continue your way, your thoughts still roaming around the what if. And while your heart yearns for him back, for what you believed you had - your head knows it’s better this way. Jaehyun isn’t the one for you, as much as you would have loved him to be, Minghao is right. It’s just that the thought of starting over with someone new makes you cringe, makes fear rise within you. Someone new to give your heart to and hope they don’t break it the way Jae had.

Once you’re on the highway you think back about the time you had decided to travel to Paris for your honeymoon. It had been your idea, your wish. Your first ever book, even if it never made it onto a bestseller list or into the mouths of the best romance critics - it was set in Paris. The city of live, the city you decided would become your favorite even though you had never been. Spending two weeks there with the love of your life after becoming his forever, seriously, nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that.

Minghao’s words ring in your ear. Your person is still out there, he said. And that Paris, as the city of love, would be the perfect place to go look for them. Your knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. You never wanted to spend time in Paris with anyone but Jaehyun.

Or maybe, you think as you take the exit leading to your neighborhood, the only Person you need to spend time with in Paris is yourself.

two; the lost soul

He never should have listened to Jeonghan. No one should ever listen to Jeonghan. The cab driver is speaking in quick french that Jihoon knows he wouldn’t understand even if he spelled out every word for him. Then again, he isn’t even sure the driver is talking to him or just about him. Jihoon can’t really blame him. After all, he is the stupid American with the stupid big guitar case and a backpack almost bigger than himself.

The backseat is hot and Jihoon’s sunglasses do little to keep the sun from blinding him.

Paris in the summer sounded better on paper than it does actually experiencing it. It’s nothing compared to the summer in Arizona, where Jihoon grew up, but having lived in Vermont for a while now, he wasn’t used to the burning hot, scorching sun that threatened to give him the sunburn of his life if he didn’t re-apply his sunscreen every few hours.

Tara had always laughed at him and his easily burned skin. She never burned, no, she got a tan right away, looking beautiful in the rays of sunshine dazzling on her skin like they belonged there.

Right now, he misses her more than he has in a while. When he passes the beautiful architecture of his first love’s favorite city, he smiles even with the sun shining directly into his eyes.

In all seriousness, Jihoon doesn’t know why he is here. It feels wrong to be here without her, but it also felt like he had to take the invitation from his friend. She would have never forgiven him, if he let this opportunity fly. Visit the city of love, the city she had always dreamt about, he knows as wrong as it feels, it’s the right thing to do.

A few minutes later, the cab stops in front of an old looking building. Without saying anything, the driver takes Jihoon’s Euros and drives off after heaving Jihoon’s suitcase out of his trunk.

Jihoon looks after the car, his dark hair falling into his forehead. Once the cab takes the next corner, he looks at the building, something stirring in his stomach. This… doesn’t look like the pictures on AirBnb at all. Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, happy he booked the data package at the airport back home. Opening his app, he feels like he’s about to throw up his airplane food.

It’s not there. The apartment is gone from the app, not newly put in under a different name, not just gone because of a glitch. It’s like it never existed. Jihoon curses, moving his fingers over his screen, calling the customer service only to be met with a french speaking automatic voice that doesn’t help him in the slightest.

Hanging up again, he stares at his phone for a few seconds. He shouldn’t have come. It feels too much like a sign. Maybe he should try changing his flight to this evening, maybe he should try to run after that cab and-

The phone in his hands rings and he quickly picks up.

“Hello?”

“Jihoonie!” It’s Jeonghan, the only reason he is in Paris in the first place, “did you make it to the city of love?”

“Yeah, and I wish I didn’t,” Jihoon mumbles in response, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Why? What happened?” Jeonghan does sound concerned, which might be a first.

“My Airbnb doesn’t exist.”

Silence. Jihoon just knows his friend is trying his hardest not to laugh. Oh, to be Yoon Jeonghann and always get entertained by his friends’ miseries.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny, okay? I’m about to call another cab and get my ass back home.”

“No! No, you can’t go home! You’re here and I’m going to make sure these will be two of the most amazing weeks of your life, alright? Look, instead of home, get your ass to my hotel. I think I might have a solution for your problem.”

When Jeonghan texts him the address and Jihoon hails another cab, he doesn’t dare to hope that his friend has an actual solution.

Perhaps Jihoon should have asked Jeonghan more thoroughly what kind of Hotel he works at. Because this looks very different to the building Jihoon just left. This is art, this is a fancy hotel in the middle of Paris’ most elegant streets, people in expensive clothes walking around Jihoon who has only a backpack and a guitar on his back. Jihoon gapes at the building, words he has read a million times suddenly filling his head, suddenly coming to life.

The façade of the hotel stands proudly on the bustling Parisian street, an exquisite testament to classical elegance and modern charm. The building’s cream-colored stonework is adorned with intricate carvings and ornate embellishments, each detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Above the entrance, a grand arch frames a large window, its glass shimmering in the soft light of the early evening.

Striped blue-and-white awnings shade the windows, their cheerful colors contrasting beautifully with the building’s stately architecture. Delicate wrought-iron balconies extend from the upper floors, offering glimpses of lush potted plants and inviting chairs, perfect for an intimate evening under the stars.

The entrance is framed by deep blue columns, and a passageway, warm light spills out from within, hinting at the luxurious interior that awaits guests. A pair of elegant lanterns flank the doorway, casting a gentle glow on the stone steps below.

Above the entrance, a crest adorned with elaborate scrollwork and a regal shield stands as a proud emblem of the hotel’s storied history. The name of the hotel is etched in graceful letters, a promise of the enchanting experience that lies within.

He doesn’t dare to move from where he is standing. Doesn’t dare to step foot into the hotel that looks exactly the way he had envisioned the one Tara would always read to him. Goosebumps erupt all over his skin and he swears there are tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. This must be a dream, a different reality, because there is no way Jeonghan works here.

But when Jihoon lets his eyes wander over the façade and into one of the magnificent windows - he spots his friend. Spots him on the phone behind the wooden counter, writing something down. He is here and this is real.

So, Jihoon slowly moves. One foot before the other, eyes glued to the entrance, nis heart beating in his chest. He feels silly, but he wonders if Tara had seen this as clear as he had back when she had read the book to him over and over again.

A welcome warmth meets Jihoon inside. It’s just as beautiful as the outside, he finds, his stomach turning over once more.

The lobby exudes a warm, inviting glow, courtesy of the golden chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings, casting a soft light over the polished marble floors. Rich hues of deep blue and soft gold dominate the color palette, creating a sense of opulence and sophistication. Jeonghan stands behind the mahogany desk, still talking on the phone, still not spotting Jihoon.

Jihoon, who feels so insanely out of place in his worn out jeans and the old leather jacket, with his hair unkempt and his eyebrow pierced. He moves over to the front desk, trying his hardest not to care about the stares he is getting from the people who clearly know he doesn’t actually belong here.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up when he sees him, a wide smile now on his lips as he holds up a finger as if to tell Jihoon to just be a little more patient. Jihoon carefully puts his hands on the top of the counter, his eyes roaming the lobby again.

“Of course, we can’t wait to have you back here again so soon, Miss Jones. Have a great day, bye bye!”

Jihoon’s eyes fly over to Jeonghan again when he hears the phone click.

“You’re actually here!” Jeonghan’s smile grows and he moves forward to give Jihoon probably the most awkward hug of his life over the counter. Jihoon laughs at that, patting his friend on the back.

“Well, it’s either this or the streets,” he smiles, “you never told me how… grant all of this is.” He gestures with his hands, as if to make sure Jeonghan knows he means the hotel. His blonde haired friend chuckles.

“Yeah, I thought it would come off like bragging if I did say so. I never would have heard the end of it from the boys.”

Jihoon nods. He knows exactly what Jeonghan means. Still. He can’t shake the feeling that if he had known about this… his stomach drops again.

“It’s beautiful.” Is all he eventually says, ignoring the worried look of his friend. Jihoon doesn’t know (and Jeonghan will never tell him) but there was a reason he had never mentioned this to him.

“That, it is,” Jeonghan finally responds, wiping the worry off his face and replacing it with a broad smile, “and you will get to live here for the next two weeks!”

“I will what?!” Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise, “Jeonghan, I can barely pay rent at home, what do you-,”

“Obviously for free, dummy,” Jeonghan chuckles, “we have a free suite that has already been paid for, full price.”

Jihoon raises his brows, his hands feeling damp on top of the fancy counter.

“How come it’s free when it’s fully paid?” He asks.

“Well, there was supposed to be a wedding and…. now there isn’t one. They didn’t meet the requirements for the full or the partial refund. So, it’s free for the next two weeks since we can’t legally double book. You want it?”

It feels a little bit too good to be true, but Jihoon is in no place to turn down Jeonghan’s offer. The little voice in his head is trying to get to him, trying to make him speak the words to himself. It tries to get him to admit that this feels a lot like fate. Like a sign from above, from Tara. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s not ready for that, and he’s certainly not melancholic enough for thoughts like this - even as a songwriter.

“I do, thank you, Han, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

“Oh, most certainly sleep on the streets. Find a rat for a friend, or maybe a pigeon. They are crazy over here,” Jeonghan sings as he types something in the computer, scanning one of the key cards he takes from the drawer beneath him. Jihoon watches him with his heartbeat in his ears.

“Yeah, never been a big fan of rats. Or pigeons.” Jihoon dares to look around the lobby again, seeing all those people living their life, probably never worried about any of the things he worries about. He wasn’t lying when he said he has trouble paying his rent. Work hasn’t been easy these days.

“Aaaaand, here we go!” Jeonghan grins brightly, “your key, Mr. Lee.” He holds it mid air, pulling it back slightly as Jihoon is trying to grab it. The latter gives him a funny look. Jeonghan pouts as he thinks.

“That rhymes. “Your key, Mr. Lee”.” Jihoon closes his eyes for a second. Jeonghan chuckles happily.

“Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Well, stop it and do yours instead,” Jihoon replies, allowing himself to grin back at his friend and take the card from his hands, “where is this suite you promised me?”

Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned what kind of suite this is. There is nothing Jihoon can do but stare at his surroundings with his mouth and backpack dropped, his guitar slowly sliding down his arm.

He is in the honeymoon suite. In retrospect, it makes sense. Jeonghan did say a wedding had been canceled.

There are three rooms. Right now, Jihoon is standing in the enormous entrance way. Golden and blue like downstairs, with wood accents, a big round table in the center of the room that connected all the different rooms, a centerpiece of flowers as beautiful as a summer day adjoining it. The walls are high and plastered with fine drawing, ornating through all of the hallway and over to the other rooms. Flowers and patterns so elegant Jihoon doesn’t know how to even describe them.

He feels out of place as much as he feels content. Letting his luggage rest on the floor, he moves into the first room. It’s a large sitting room, probably as big as his whole apartment back at home. Two couches of rich dark blue; cushions in different colors, some of them reminding Jihoon of the ocean, some of the sky, rich blues and light blues, and then there is the color of dawn, orange and yellow.

A majestic cremé colored carpet lays beneath the sofas, a glass table standing between them. On top of it magazine stacks and a glass tray holding what looks like whiskey and two glasses. High windows let the sun shine through and Jihoon spots a balcony leading around the living- and bedroom, holding his breath as he imagines himself out there softly strumming his guitar with a glass of whiskey or wine. His heart warms at the thought of finally having peace. Peace in the city his former lover had loved so much.

Next up he walks into the bedroom, a king sized bed greets him with white linen covers and pillows almost as big as his torso. It looks incredibly comfortable and he couldn’t wait to lay down and relax after the day he’s had. Golden curtains sway in the wind let in by an opened window, and the view is so poetic he almost feels himself tear up. Quickly, he looks away and instead finds his way into the master bathroom. It’s all held in gold as well, gold and white for a change, an enormous tub next to a high rain shower behind a glass wall. He sighs.

This is perfect. And he most definitely needs a shower right now.

So, he retraces his steps and grabs his luggage, setting everything down next to the bed and letting his guitar rest in the corner of the room. He decides to actually unpack his backpack that probably doesn’t even hold as much clothes as he probably needs for this trip (he did think he had a washer, though) and places everything in the large closet opposite the bed.

Finding himself humming, Jihoon allows a little bit more of that earlier peace to find place in his head and heart. Perhaps there is no reason for him to be worried - to look for something to go terribly wrong on this trip. Jeonghan is off work by now, and they’ll go catch dinner together, then he’ll come back here and maybe watch a movie, fall asleep to the sound of Paris outside his window. He doesn’t know what it sounds like just yet, but he’s already excited to find out.

Ridding himself of his clothes and feeling another threat of tears when he touches the towels hanging in the bathroom, Jihoon finally lets himself step into the shower and wash all of his worries away.

three; the mix-up

You don’t think your heart has ever beaten as fast as it does when you walk out the Charles de Gaulle airport and right into the arms of the driver Minghao has arranged for you. It’s not about the driver or the airport - but where you are.

Paris, the city of love, the city you feared to visit after what had happened with Jae. Yet, here you stand. Handing the driver your luggage and fishing for your phone in your purse, texting Minghao you already found your driver and are now on the way to the hotel. It all feels surreal and like you’re going to wake up any second.

Minghao forgave you without hesitation. Hugged you close to his chest and cried with you as you told him you were sorry and that he was right. You needed to do this - needed to face your demons. Together, the two of you had finalized the plans, popping open a bottle of expensive champagne and gossiping about Jaehyun and who he left you for. Little by little, you knew, you would find yourself again. And perhaps Paris was the perfect way to start.

The drive from the airport to the hotel was spent staring out the window. First you saw the highway leading from the airport to the city - greenery with trees on each side, all passing by you in a blurr. And then the beautiful streets of Paris. The fine architecture, the elegant bridges over the Seine. Heart warming at the sight of the city you dreamt about so much. Your first ever book had taken place right here, you had let your main characters kiss for the first time right there on that bridge leading from one side of Paris to the other, so close to the Louvre, to the glass pyramid you made them fight and make up all the same, just months apart. The sun is dazzling onto the dark water of the river, light dancing on the surface.

The driver comes to a stop in front of the hotel about 45 minutes after your departure from Charles de Gaulle. He holds open the door for you and helps you out of the car, smiling at you warmly and finally getting your bags out of the trunk. You thank him in some broken French and he nods at you before finding his way back to the driver’s seat.

One of the bell-boys spot you right when you walk in, their English sounding a bit like your French just now. You thank them and hand over your luggage, letting them help you carry it to the mahogany reception.

It is exactly like you remember it. You had never seen it in person, no. But you’ve found this hotel during your research, falling in love with it right away. It was a no-brainer that your honeymoon was to be held here.

You felt overwhelmed at the sight of the colors you had tried so hard to bring to paper, at the sound of soft music in the background, at the knowledge this was real and you were gonna stay here for two whole weeks.

Finally, you reach the counter where a small man stands and smiles up at you, his hair styled back.

“Welcome, how can I help you?” He says in perfect English and you place your hands on top of the counter.

“Hi,” you tell him your name, “I have a reservation.”

The man nods, looking up the reservation and finding it right away. Not marked as checked in, he notes and gives you another big smile.

“It is wonderful to have you, Miss. Will your husband be joining you?”

You expected as much. While it does hurt a little, having to say these next words, you know it’s a step in the right direction.

“I will be staying here alone, thank you.”

It is more beautiful than you could have imagined and it takes you a whole lot not to start crying. Your luggage gets brought up by the nice bell-boys and you thank them by tipping them each 50 Euros. Their smiles make the loss of the money worthwhile.

Once the door closes behind them, you dare to look around. See the beautiful entrance way in all its glory. See the living room in all it’s elegance, the high ceiling and windows, the smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and a little reading nook, two ceiling high bookshelves standing around a comfortable looking loveseat. This must be what heaven looks like.

There is nothing that can wipe that smile off your face. Everything inside you tingles with happy excitement, moving to go look at the master bedroom with the on-suite bathroom you remembered staring at for at least five minutes when you booked the room. Imagining yourself in the enormous bathtub with a glass of champagne and classical music playing, letting all the stress and hurt from the past months fade away with the notes.

You don’t notice the closet and how there are clothes hanging inside it. Neither do you see the guitar case in the corner of the room. It fascinates you - how your mind tricks you into thinking you already hear the sound of water running, accompanied by humming along to a tune. Magnificent, what the mind can do.

When you finally reach for the doorknob to push it down, yanking the door open in one swift move, you realize perhaps your mind isn’t as magnificent as you thought.

Jihoon doesn’t notice you until you scream. He swirls around, which is inherently a foolish thing to do inside a wet, slippery shower, his eyes widening whe spots you, reacting to your scream by screaming himself. He realizes he’s naked and tries to find something to cover him, taking a step forward to reach for the towel and forgetting there is literally a glass wall separating you two.

Watching the man walk face-first into the glass and stumbling back, slipping on the wet floors and falling onto his ass would have made you laugh if it wasn’t inside your shower.

“What the hell!” You yell, turning around so you don’t look at the naked man any longer.

“Who are you?!” He yells back and you almost gasp.

“I should ask you that!”

The two of you need to yell because Jihoon has not yet managed to turn the shower off. Only now does he (while rubbing his hurting back) get up, struggling in the process, his hand finding the lever to turn off the water. His nose hurts and his ass and his back.

He moves out of the shower without running into glass this time, and wraps one of the soft towels around his waist.

“I’m Jihoon,” he finally says. You think you’re suddenly stuck in a really bad movie.

“That- you’re telling me your name?!” You turn around again, staring at the stranger with disbelief in your eyes.

“You did ask who I was, didn’t you?”

For a few moments the two of you continue to stare at each other. With every passing second you notice just how naked he is. Yes, there is a towel around him now, but you certainly did not… miss what was under there when you first walked in. As much as you don’t want to, your eyes scan the stranger, or well, Jihoon as he told you, stopping at his wet torso, the defined abs and the broad chest. He might be small in height but the rest of him seems… big.

You swallow.

“If you’re done checking me out, would you mind telling me why you’re in my room?”

Heat spreads through your body and right into your face, your eyes jumping from his torso to his face.

“Your room? I’m sorry, this is my room!”

While Jihoon did hit his head, he isn’t hurt enough not to understand that you’re most likely telling the truth. But Jeonghan had said the wedding was off… that you wouldn’t come here. So, why on earth, where you here?

“I- I can explain,” he begins, taking a step forward only for you to take a step backward. He holds out his hand as if to signal he wasn’t going to do anything.

“Go right ahead,” you hate that your voice is shaking, but it’s not like it is an everyday occurrence you find a beautiful stranger in your hotel room. If this wasn’t your actual life but a book this might have been sexy, might have led to the bed behind you finding the two strangers entangled, giving in to the sexual tension between them. Not that there was any of that in this situation.

“My friend, Jeonghan, he- he works here. He told me this suite wouldn’t be used and so I- well he asked me if I wanted to stay here for my trip after I told him my airbnb didn’t actually exist and I needed a, uh, a place to stay.”

You blink at him.

“He just- he gave you my honeymoon suite for free?

Jihoon swallows.

“Well…,” he thinks a little longer on his answer, “yes. Yes, he did.”

Telling the truth is probably his best bet.

You take a deep breath, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“As you can see, I am here. So, please, find somewhere else to stay.”

Jihoon saw it coming, obviously. It was all too good to be true. Without saying anything else, he walks over to the closet, ready to dress himself. Just that he didn’t quite calculate the new luggage now laying in front of the bed.

It all seems to happen in slow motion.

Jihoon tripping over your suitcase, his hands desperate trying to find something to hold on to before he falls. As if on reflex, you grab his arm, yanking him up so he doesn’t fall flatly on his face, just that you somehow manage to yank him so hard, you fall off balance. With a high pitched squeak, you fall onto the bed, Jihoon landing on top of you, his towel falling off in the process of the fall and save.

A naked man is on top of you, brown eyes wide with shock staring into yours. His hands somehow moved right to the sides of your head as if to catch himself from falling even further on top of you.

You can feel him. Feel his breath on your face, his skin on yours, his friend against your thigh. More heat rises, your face, your neck, your chest, your core. It’s bad. This shouldn’t be happening right now.

The two of you are so engulfed in the moment, you don’t even realize when the door opens yet again. When voices you would normally recognize without trouble seem to fail your ears this time. Jihoon’s face so close to yours - way too distracting.

“What the fuck?!”

Realization hits you at the same time as recognition and you gasp, your knee coming up, right into Jihoon’s lower parts, a yelp escaping him as he slides off the bed, hands now covering his private area and his face in a grimace of sheer pain.

You don’t even notice it. Not really, at least. Now it’s not his face that’s distracting you but the one you used to love for so many years.

“Jaehyun?” You whisper. And for a second you think he came here to make amends, to win you back, to get on his knees and apologize - then you spot her walking in, her eyes scanning the room with distaste.

“Who is that?” Jaehyun asks and you feel your blood boil.

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his question. He isn’t looking at you, but at Jihoon still on the floor.

“Oh, well, you know. We thought that it would be such a waste to let this suite go to waste,” it is her who answers you now, her deep red manicured hands now curling around Jaehyun’s biceps.

This bitch. Your blood starts boiling. Anger makes you see red.

“You brought her here?” You hiss at Jaehyun who has the decency to look guilty at least. You snort. Then, your eyes find Jihoon who’s still on the ground, Jihoon who is still naked. Jihoon, who desperately needs a place to stay.

God knows what makes you do what you do next. Desperation? Foolery? Who knows. But you move to help Jihoon up, grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his lower half.

“Y/N,” Jaehyun starts but you interrupt him.

“I see that we both had the idea to bring our new partners, or in your case old partner, to the suite we booked together, Jae. But since I was the one who paid for it, I would kindly ask you to leave.”

New partner. Jihoon needs a few seconds before he grasps what you just said.

“New- new what?” He mumbles, but you clear your throat to drown out his voice. Jaehyun’s face is priceless and you don’t want the bluff to be uncovered so quickly.

“That is your new boyfriend?” She asks, her brows raised. You can see that she’s checking him out - his abs, his cest, his pretty face. It makes your insides turn with hatred and disgust.

“Got a problem, Sierra?” You reply, your jaw tense. Her eyes only briefly meet yours.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m glad to see you finally got out of that moping phase, honey. It really didn’t suit you.”

Your grip around the towel tightens.

Slowly, Jihoon begins to understand what is going on. Who these people are. There was supposed to be a wedding and a honeymoon, but neither of these happened. You are the bride, or well, were supposed to be the bride. And he, the man you called Jaehyun and who had caused all the color to fade from your face, surely seems to be the groom who… never got to be the groom. And judging by the way you reacted to him and her, he guesses the reason the wedding didn’t happen was… the woman you’d called Sierra.

Blinking a few times, Jihoon realized that you were trying to convince him that he was your new boyfriend. That you had brought him here, to this hotel. It was ridiculous and straight out of a bad movie, but somehow… even if he didn’t know you, he felt like he should help you. And so, he let his arm wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise.

“I would kindly ask you to leave us be. You have done enough.”

Your head swirled to look at the man next to you. His stern face and his wet hair. Drops of water sliding down the side of his neck.

“How long has this been going on?” Jaehyun asks, ignoring Jihoon’s request. You turn to look at him again.

“That’s none of your business. You heard him, Jae. Leave. This isn’t your room anymore.”

Another beat of silence falls between the four of you. You try your best to ignore Sierra and cling onto Jihoon’s hand like it was the only saving grace. Perhaps that was true. Holding Jae’s gaze and trying to calm down your hurting heart, your wishes to throw something at him.

“Fine. I heard the honeymoon suite in the Hilton is much nicer than this one, baby.”

It is then that you see it. The rings on her finger. Your stomach drops. He married her. Oh, you’re about to throw up. Jihoon seems to notice your change of emotions, quickly clearing his throat.

“Great. Have fun in Paris then.”

He carefully takes the towel from your hand, wrapping it around him fully again. Then, he looks at you. The overwhelming urge to give you a hug is almost unbearable.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, “since we are both seeing other people and have moved on - we could grab dinner sometime this week. All of us.”

Jihoon sees the way your eyes shake at the suggestion. And he is just about to say no, that that’s not a good idea, when you push your shoulder back and hold your head high.

“What a lovely idea. We’d love to, isn’t that right, baby?” You interlock your fingers with Jihoon’s and he stares at you for just a second, before nodding.

“Sure,” he breathes out, looking at Jaehyun and Sierra.

It most certainly isn’t a lovely idea, he is well aware of that. This whole thing isn’t a good idea. But here he is. Holding the hand of a woman he barely met twenty minutes ago. A woman who has seen him naked, a woman who had his half hard cock against the inside of her thigh. A woman he had been closer to than any other in the last five years.

No, this wasn’t a good idea. This was an awful, horrible idea that could only go so, so wrong.

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writersdrug · 1 year

Text

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 1)

Next ->

Summary: Your "situation" with Ghost went sour, and to ensure that the two of you wouldn't tear the team apart with your fighting, Captain Price sells you to a different private company. You jump from group to group, not really fitting in anywhere, until a risky mission forces you and Konig to bond with each other. The both of you are inseparable.

It comes to light that someone's put a target on your back; you discovered classified information somewhere along hopping between Special Forces groups. The information leads to an issue much deeper and corrupted than anyone had imagined, leading KORTAC and SPECGRU to work together. You realize that time never healed anything, and things would only get worse between you and Ghost - and, now, Konig.

WARNINGS: writer only played COD once or twice, foul language, eventual smut, descriptive gore, angst, Google translate German, torture, violence, mentions of rape (not descriptive, after the fact)

Chapter warnings: mentions of smut (after the fact), foul language

Deep, rhythmic, warm breaths caressed the back of my neck. Simon’s arm was lazily draped over my waist and my hand rested on top of his. His other arm wrapped under and around my neck, holding my other hand loosely against my own shoulder. Our legs intertwined with each other’s, my back was pressed against his chest, and my soul reveled in the warmth that radiated from his being. A thin duvet was loosely draped over our bodies, doing little to keep us warm. Yet a thin layer of sweat still clung to our skin from our intense actions, only a few minutes ago.

I couldn’t help but smile as I thought back to our passion. Every taste was still lingering on my tongue; every touch and kiss and caress still left a blazing trail on my skin. I pulled Simon’s arm tighter around my waist and scooted my back against him. He let out a guttural sigh in response, massaging the skin over my stomach and sighing into my neck. He pushed himself closer to me and squeezed my hands.

“What’s on your mind, Simon?” I asked in a playful voice.

“Mm… what do you think?” he grumbled sleepily. My heart fluttered as he moved his hand down my waist and over my thigh, then back up to squeeze my hip. I arched my back against him, craving more of his touch.

I sighed contentedly. “I wish this didn’t have to end. God, Simon… I could lie here with you forever.” I kissed his arm that held my shoulder.

I waited for a response – So could I. I would never let you go. Why don’t we sleep in, get a late start tomorrow? Who cares if anyone sees you leaving my room? It’s about time people knew about us. A kiss. A squeeze. Even a grunt of acknowledgement. But he remained silent and unmoving, like he couldn’t give a response. Or that he didn’t want to.

An uneasiness settled in my stomach. I tried again, shifting my hips against him and letting out a small whimper, disguised as a yawn. I expected him to hold my hips and grind into me. However, he stayed completely still, forcing himself not to react.

I smiled to myself. He’s just worn out. It’s early in the morning, maybe he doesn’t have the energy to banter. I pushed the uneasy feeling away, assuming his lack of a response was due to something completely reasonable and normal. I forced myself to focus on the moment, the feelings of his warm skin on mine, his breaths on my neck-

Simon sighed. “Bonnie…” he started.

“Call signs now?” I quipped, rolling over to look at him. I did my best to stomp out the anxious flame in my stomach, although I couldn’t help the frown that creeped onto my face. “What, is it time for work already?”

I noticed his face was grim, somber. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. His hand was slowly squeezing my hip, kneading the skin gently… he was thinking, turning over some mind-bending thought in his head. I gently placed my hand on the side of his face and directed it towards mine, yet he still refused to meet my gaze.

“Simon, what’s wrong?” I asked.

He closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. A foreboding sign of his next words.

“This was a mistake.”

My chest immediately felt constricted. For a second, I forgot to breathe. “What?” I pulled my hand away from him.

Simon’s arm left my waist and rested in between us. “Don’t get me wrong here… I loved what we had. You’re amazing in every sense of the word. But, sweetheart…“ he sighed, still looking away from me. “I think it’s gone a bit far, don’t you? It wasn’t even supposed to go on this long.”

Loved. I sat up, my eyes never leaving Simon’s despite the fact that he still wouldn’t look at me.

“We both said at the beginning that this was just for fun. But lately, I feel like you’ve… well, you treat it like we’re beyond that point, yeah? I mean, you’ve been acting like we’re a thing – maybe not outright, but the way you’re acting around everyone else, the way you’re acting around me in public… I’m starting to feel like it’s become more than that to you.”

“Why are you saying this now?” I asked. I knew the question was pointless. Was there ever a good time to say it?

Finally, Simon looked me in the eyes. There was a hint of regret and sincerity in his face. “I just think we need to end this now, before we get too… attached, to each other. Before we make any serious mistakes.”

Before… I felt my heart sink as I processed the words, and their meaning.

“Do you see what I’m sayin’ here?” he asked, now propped up on one shoulder. He looked at me with a pleading yet cautious gaze.

I stared blankly back, even though I couldn’t actually see him. All I could focus on was the devastating feeling in my gut. My mind began racing, my heart started pounding – and this painful sense of dread flooded my veins. I understood exactly what he was saying. Despite my body having an initial reaction, my brain was slower to process any impending emotions. Before… what does he mean ‘before’? Didn’t we get to that point already? Mistake? How long has he thought this? Has he been lying to me the whole time?

I quickly stopped my thoughts from unravelling in my head. No. No no no no no. I needed to get out of here before the pain could catch up to me.

I immediately rolled out of the makeshift bed – two cots pushed together against the wall with an extra layer of sheets underneath – and picked up my clothes that had been tossed across the floor. I have to go. I have to go before this hurts.

Ghost sat up quickly and scooted back against the wall. “Well, wait – don’t you wanna talk about this?”

“No.” was all I said as I pulled on my panties and sweatpants, making quick work of putting my bra back on. I suddenly felt naked – not in the way before, where I wanted Ghost to see and feel every inch of my skin. Now I felt ashamed, humiliated, ridiculous, stupid, stupid –

“Please, love- “ Ghost made his way from the bed and over to me. “ – you need to let me explain –“

I turned away from him as I finished pulling my shirt over my head. “No.” I said again, hopping in place as I rushed to put my socks on. The room was suddenly cold, making me want to curl in on myself and hide somewhere. But I needed to get away from him before I could let myself feel anything. I sat on the edge of the bed and quickly pulled my shoes on.

Once again, I had let myself become vulnerable in hopes of finding some sort of comfort, some kind of goodness. And just like always, it made things worse than before. When will I ever fucking learn. Rage slowly started to mix with the embarrassment and the pain.

I grabbed my dog tags off of the nightstand as Ghost trailed my every move. “Can you fuckin’ grow up and listen to me?!” he shouted, arms outstretched, pleading, as I fumbled with my laces. “Christ, don’t act like this is news, you knew this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. This is on you for not ending it sooner. I didn’t want to bring this up myself because, well…” he gestured to me as I angrily made my way to the door, following closely behind. “… this. I knew you would fuckin’ freak out on me. Look at you! You never face your mistakes, you’re running away like a fuckin’ coward, you are- “

I’d heard enough. I turned towards him sharply and threw a hard punch right to his face – his left eye, to be precise. He stumbled backwards with a surprised grunt, his hand flying to his face. He looked at me in total shock and anger – I met his eyes, my expression furious. Of course, I knew he was right, but I didn’t care. I just wanted him to be quiet and let me go, before he could see any sort of emotional reaction from me.

I punched his door open and began storming down the hall. The tears started to finally fall – but that was ok. My back was to Ghost. He wouldn’t see them. My breaths became rugged and sharp as I started to process everything that had happened. I jumped at the sound of Ghost slamming his door, followed by the muffled sound of him cursing.

I entered my room and quickly shut the door behind me. My things fell onto the floor as I let my emotions take over my body. I was shaking. Fucking get it together! I couldn’t. A part of me thought I was being extremely overdramatic. After all, we had agreed in the beginning – no strings attached. I was the one who pushed so hard for that. Why does it hurt so much? I was the one who broke the rules. I was angry with myself… and also with Ghost. Why? I couldn’t put my finger on it. Maybe…

I just thought he might have felt the same. He didn’t have to push me away so harshly. Why did he wait so long to say something? More importantly, Why does it hurt this much? Why did I let this happen?

I slid against the door until I sat on the ground, knees up to my chest. I sobbed into my hands. Everything was so messed up. I didn’t know who to be angry at; hell, I didn’t know if I could be angry at anyone. Maybe this was all my fault, and I just had to clean up and move on. But it felt like there was a black hole in my chest, sucking everything in and still feeling empty. I had to figure out how to fill that hole for good, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy, or quick.

#konig cod #konig x reader #konig smut #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #cod x reader #konig x reader smut #ghost x reader smut

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priceyprice · 6 months

Text

"I love you." Simon said as he stared at the little flower blooming in the back of his yard, captivating anyone with its beauty and fragility.

His fingers caressed the petals, ever so lightly, almost not touching it, afraid of breaking one. His eyes were only focused on the vibrant plant, looking as if it's going to give him the slightest bit of sign.

A sign that she's alive.

His chest tightens, that awful and familiar feeling appearing again as it does since a long time. His mind wanders away, remembering the times he has seen her taking care of this beautiful flower, spraying it, talking with it and even just sit there and stare at it, letting all her stress go away. He asked her why that flower was so important for her since that flower is very common everywhere they go to do their missions. She just looked up at him, her lips forming a smile, making him skip a beat.

"Because everywhere we go and I see one of them, I can remember my home is here, with you."

That was the last time he was Simon.

That was the last time he saw her beautiful smile before she disappeared.

It has been nearly one year since his lover went MIA. The team was on a mission going after a drug dealer and human trafficker who was getting tracked by the government for years. They went to ambush one of his buildings when some information got leaked, indicating he was staying there. The team managed to get a lot of his underlings, and Ghost managed to kill a few, decreasing some of the huge empire the man had, but he managed to run away. The captain told his team to come back to their initial point to reunite, and they did.

Except for her.

The team tried to search for her in the area, but it was in vain. Her radio was off, and her signal was lost.

She completely disappeared.

They know that powerful man took her, but they don't have any signs of where she could've been. Some information they got from an intel said she could be in South America since that's where the organization sometimes goes to do some trafficking.

Other people say that she's dead. They say there's no hope for him to keep searching if she really got caught by that organization.

But Simon doesn't believe it.

They had so many plans together. They wanted to get married in a few years and buy a bigger house to the possibility of a family, and when their retirement knocked on their door, they would've been traveling the world together. That's why she can't leave him without even sharing a last kiss with him.

If she's actually dead, he will bring her back to life...

...Even if it means selling his soul to the devil himself.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Just a little idea. :)

Next drabble here

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod 141 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #cod #cod fic #cod fanfic

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oct0bra1ns · 9 months

Note

Just did my nails and in the hour it took I thought of this so do with it as u please

I don’t know if you’ve ever done anything like this

But like any type of yandere monster recreating your house/ room perfectly and then bringing you there and their super happy bout it and like ‘look what I made! Don’t you just love it? 😊😊”

like a demon? Omgmgmg or some hot vers of boogie man

idk tbh I have a lot of ideas I’m just trying to give u som of my mind

like summoning a demon bc why not? A bitch was bored 🌝 and it’s all scary and shit and you’re just totally chill, “hey man, didn’t mean to summon you- you wanna just like? I don’t know…go back to hell?” And the demon is obv offended

so it follows u around menacingly and yeah

ur his now ❤️

anyways do with this as u please 💕💕 I love ur writing sm btw, I hope the food u eat always taste good and yr pillows are cold on both sides!

Pairing: Yandere Monster x reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others , yanderes, notes: big brain, the best ideas always come when you're doing your nails tbh and THANK YOU, I HOPE THE YEAR GOES AMAZING FOR YOU. reblogs and comments are appreciated!

CONSIDER, the monster had already been admiring you for a while now, taking note of the style you wear, the food you eat, and trying to find what kind of house you'd like so all these things could add up as a plus point when you finally summon him.

Yandere monster who wastes no time in trying to get you to come home with him but the moment you ask him to go back sheepishly, he gives you such an offended looking, asking you what he lacks for you to try to send him away.

Eventually, he gets you to let him stay, allowing to choose whether you want to stay here or go back with him, either way, he'd making sure you lack nothing and are well looked after. He takes pride in knowing your tastes and admires the way your face lights up when you see what he's done for you.

If you choose to stay here, he changes his appearance to fit the standards of the humans whenever outside but in the house, he has no problem flaunting the markings on his skin and horns. To fit in, he uses his influence and power to build up a company from the ground, one where signing a contract with him means selling your soul for success.

He isn't concerned with competition, all he cares about his making sure you're well taken care of but do not mistake this for him being laid back, he's always at your side at parties or anyplace you go to keep other pests away from you, any idiot who dares to approach you will become bankrupt and deal with many things they've been trying to hide or they will be caught in an unfortunate accident.

If you choose to go back to his realm, the way your spoiled only amps up, being from one of the most influential families back home, you've basically become royalty. Of course, his people are not so accepting at first but seeing as he ranks way over them, they keep quiet, his family on the other hand will adore you, admiring the chaos you bring along with being their son's partner.

Always at his side in every event, not as an object to be admired but as his partner and equal and anyone who tries to approach him about how you make an excellent pet will be made an example of what not to do.

Loves picking out clothes for you that are from his realm, tailoring them to fit you perfectly and making sure that above anything else, you love the way it looks.

Any freedom you had back in the world is basically gone in his world, the people here are horrible, you never know when they'll decide to change their mind and try to show off.

octo notes:hmm, thinking of naming him deimos :p

#octo answers #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #octo writes #tw yandere #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere monster #yandere x willing reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x you

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coffeewithcocoa · 7 months

Note

HIIIIIII OK SO HERE I AM, I wanna ask if maybe you could write like angel x male reader (trans or not up to you) where the reader comforts him maybe after a hard day of work or smthng? My boy needs love and affection😭💗

HERE YOU GO! 🫡

YES ANGEL NEEDS LOVE AND CARE!! I threw a mental breakdown in here:)

Comforting An Angel

Angel Dust x Male Reader

I put male, hope that’s okay!

Summary: You give him comfort after a hard day of work.

(Look at the precious Ange)

——————————————————————

You were waiting in your lovely boyfriend’s, Angel Dusts, room for his return. He told you that he was going to come back late since Valentino wanted to shoot some more stuff with him. Which you understood but you still felt bad for him, especially since his boss is a creep.

You hated Valentino with all your guts. You hated him so much that you would sell your soul so Angel didn’t have to deal with him. He’s told you countless of times though that everything’s fine and that he’s fine, which didn’t make you feel better at all.

After some time of just zoning out and playing with Angels pig, fat nuggets, you got a text from him saying that he just got back and he’s heading to his room. Though you didn’t want to wait anymore so you hopped out of his bed, grabbed Fat Nuggets, and ran straight to the stairs.

Fat nugget oinked at you. “I’m not slowing down!” You told him as if he could talk. When you got halfway there you saw Angel with a liquor bottle in his hand and a tired expression on his face. Your face turned soft as you approached him, letting fat nuggets go and surprise him.

A small gasp left him as he went on his knees and had Nuggs just into his arms. “Awh hi my fat nuggets! How was your day with your other daddy, huh?” His went to a baby voice making you chuckle.

“How was your day Angel?” You gave him a smile. He sighed, grabbing the liquor bottle and standing up. “Stressful.” Your face changed to a softer one, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go to your room and you can talk about it, okay?” He nodded with a weak smile.

The walk back to his room felt quicker when he was actually with you. You opened his room door for him just as a kind act for him. He took a seat on his bed, placing Fat Nuggets In front of him. The liquor bottle being placed on his nightstand.

You took a seat in front of Fat Nuggets, petting him as you looked at Angel. “Could we maybe…cuddle?” He moved his legs so they were to his chest. You nodded, “Of course.” You grabbed Fat Nuggets carefully and sat closer to Angel.

He moved himself so he could easily grab you. Fat Nuggets was in the middle of you guys. “What did Val do this time?” Your voice came out stern.

“He’s into this water boardin’ shit now. He says it’s a kink..” He shrugs, his attention mostly towards Fat Nuggets. “So he’s been drowning you all day?” You rose an eyebrow at him. He nodded, “he gave me some breaks..only around a few seconds.” He tried defending Valentino.

Angel had told you the shit that he does behind closed doors away from the public. It sickens you. “Why’d you sign the contract?” You looked up at him, him doing the same to you. “‘Cause before then I loved him.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh Angel.” Tears flooded his eyes, quickly spilling out as he hugged Fat nuggets tightly. You moved behind him so you could lay on his bed. He moved his head to the crook of your neck.

You hugged him towards your body. “I wish I hadn’t signed that fuckin’ contract.” Angel said between sobs. “I know, it’s okay..shhh.” You gently rubbed his back, giving him kisses on his forehead.

A few minutes later the sobs stopped. You moved yourself back to see his sleeping face. He was hugging a sleeping Fat Nuggets that was in between the both of you. You chuckled as you kissed his damp cheek, “Have a nice rest love.”

With that you closed your eyes and fell asleep with a smile on your face.

———————————————————————

ITS A BIT RUSHED AT THE END IM SORRY😭 Hope you like it though.

Who else hates Valentino?:D

•Have a nice day/night!•

#angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #gay love #x male reader #character x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin x reader #gay fanfiction #gay

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stinalotte · 4 months

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So. Basingstoke Comic Con.

This is going to be a rant. I'm German, so I have a PhD in a) complaining and b) being blunt. Perfect combination for this post. It's going to be long, so buckle up.

I give explicit permission to repost, reblog, screenshot and post to other websites, comment, tag, and add to this in any way you see fit. Feel free to write your own experiences and criticism.

It's a modified version of the feedback email I sent them. Since then, they have put out a statement which directly contradicts some of the stuff other people have told us (and have evidence for) and which blames everyone from attendees to guests to staff to the weather.

First of all, despite all the mess with the actual con, I had a ton of fun. I hadn't seen some of these people in 20 years. I hadn't met some of y'all before, and I talked to so many people this weekend. I don't regret a single meeting, hug, smile, or laugh. I do wish however for the organizers to step on legos for the rest of their lives.

Frankly, they had a huge business opportunity and they blew it. They could have established themselves as THE Stargate convention in Europe. People were taking 15-hour flights to be there. We were willing to spend hundreds, in some cases thousands of pounds. With that lineup, they blew every other current convention out of the water. If they had done this right, this would have been a huge success and an absolute no-brainer for years to come. They could have been one of those cons that sell out in minutes.

Instead, they let greed and poor organization guide them. They severely underestimated the size of the Stargate fandom. They didn't bother to learn about what the fans wanted and who the guests actually were.

A few things stood out for me:

Health and safety at the venue. No a/c, running heaters (!!) in some rooms, not enough opportunities to get water, way too many people for this size hotel. We are lucky there wasn't a panic or more severe injuries. Crowd control was non existent.

An impossible, ever-changing schedule. You can't put talks back to back, or meet&greets, or photo ops. Everybody knows you will run overtime and then the whole thing collapses. Changes were not communicated. Nobody knew what was going on.

Poorly trained staff. No staff meetings beforehand. Staff had no way to communicate with each other. Seriously, give them radios! Some of them didn't now the names of the guests or in which autograph group they were.

People could not get the things they paid for. Out of all the autographs included in my pass, I only got one, and only because a friend got it for me. [Marion, you're a fucking rockstar] I don't even want to know how many people will be attempting chargebacks on their credit cards in the coming days.

And the most important thing, the one that makes everyone I talked to the angriest: The way they treated the guests was appalling. They are such generous, hard-working people, and BCC shamelessly took advantage of that. Richard Dean Anderson was signing until after 1 am. A 74-year-old man who just wants to make his fans happy.

[BCC are now saying they were told he was a „slow signer“, aka someone who actually takes their time by talking to fans when signing autographs. Oh really? Then why did you continue to sell autographs well into Sunday when it was clear that there was no way he could get through them all in a reasonable time??]

David Blue was setting up his own autograph table. Several Atlantis actors went and got more of their headshots (by taking pictures in the photo room and printing them) because they ran out. Joe Flanigan tried to bring some order to the chaos more than once. He went full John Sheppard in the photo op room and took charge. We are lucky they're such sweet souls and didn't raise hell then and there. Nobody would have blamed them.

Staff were amazing and tried to make the best with what little support they were given. Kathleen, Finn and Nick (with the Stick!) especially, and so many others whose names I sadly didn't get. They worked so hard, never lost their humor, and tried to help as much as they could.

This disaster is entirely on management. It's a failure of leadership and an example of what not to do when you're running an event.

If you want to put on a convention, you need to go to people who have experience and listen to them. You need to attend several cons before even thinking about doing one yourself. And before, during and after, you need to take care of your people. You need to take care of your staff, of your guests, of the fans. You need to adjust the size of the event to the size of the venue, or vice versa. You need to actually be interested in this event beyond the money it will earn you. You need to know when you bit off more than you can chew.

I'm not hoping for a better one next year, because all of us said we won't be back. What I do hope is that hey sincerely apologize to the guests and at least double what money was raised for charity.

#basingstoke comic con #rant #stargate #stargate atlantis

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waynes-multiverse · 4 months

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Plastic Hearts – Part 25

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, a tinge of angst, FLUFF

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: I'm not sad... 🥲 Honestly, I don't have words beyond gratitude and cliché goodbyes, so let's end this journey together 🤍

<< 24 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

25. Dare

“Ugh, I can’t believe you convinced everyone to come out here,” Jo groans and raises her flat palm to her brows, shielding her eyes from the scalding desert sun. “What the fuck is wrong with Palm Springs, huh?”

“C’mon, we’ve always wanted to go to Joshua Tree together since we moved to LA. This is like the perfect time,” Y/N argues cheerfully and nudges her friend with her elbow. “Look! It’s so peaceful.”

“There’s a dead carcass over there. Looks like a symbol of my marriage,” Jo deadpans.

Y/N purses her lips before compelling another positive smile to her face. “We can get rid of that. The girls really needed this after the whole Crowley debacle.”

The group left straight after the network meeting in Dean’s office this morning, which didn’t go as planned, to say the least. While several executives were surely interested, Crowley and H-ELLTV put an abrupt end to it. Apparently, they sold their fucking souls by signing a contract with the devil. Crowley’s words still rang in her ears on repeat.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, ladies, but H-ELLTV owns your characters, which means you can’t sell them to another network. You all signed a contract and made a deal. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, fucking asshole…” Jo huffs her agreement but then throws her friend a suspicious sideways look. “What’s up with you, though? Why are you so chipper and cheerful like a fucking Disney princess? I thought you of all people would be fucking depressed and devastated about the stupid show ending.”

Y/N shrugs. “I am. I’m just trying to make the best of our last weekend together. Can’t I be happy?”

“Fuck no.” Jo shakes her head. “Something’s up with you. Usually, when you’re like this, it’s overcompensation ‘cause you’ve fucked something up. If I were still married, I’d think you’ve fucked my husband all over again. So, what did you do?”

Y/N shrugs once more and keeps her eyes trained on the sprawling desert landscape in front of her. “Nothing.”

“Dean also was a bigger asshole than usual this morning. So, I’m asking again, what shit did you fuck up now?”

“Nothing, okay? Dean’s always an asshole,” Y/N deflects defensively. Although, even she has to admit – those were some spectacularly icy green eyes this morning. Not that he ever looked directly at her or spoke with her even once. She probably would’ve turned to stone if he did.

“Fine, don’t tell. God knows I don’t fucking care,” Jo says indifferently and joins the other women as they set up their tents on the campground.

Y/N lets out a small sigh as she stares at the bluest sky she’s ever seen while the hot desert sun beams down on her. She watches the girls for a while, her heart slightly cracking at the thought this might be the last time they all hang out together. This year has been the best one she’s ever had.

But then, her heart stings even more when she thinks about the one person who isn’t here, wondering what he’s doing right now. If anything, she owes it all to him.

Dean nurses his beer with a sigh, his green eyes barely paying attention to the half-naked girl who’s winding herself up and down a silver pole in front of him. This used to bring him joy – day-drinking at a strip club and watching tits bounce. But now all he thinks about is how that girl looks nothing like Y/N. None of them do.

“Hey, son. Startin’ early today,” Bobby notes with a chuckle as he sits down next to him.

“Yeah, they canceled the show.” And while that’s certainly true, it’s not the reason why Dean’s sulking at a titty bar.

“Too damn bad. I loved the show!” Bobby tells him enthusiastically. “It was insane. Good insane. It had everything – comedy, drama, heartache, tits, violence, a fucking wedding? There’s something for everyone there.”

“Well, uh, thanks, Bobby. Really appreciate it,” Dean tells him politely. He likes the guy, but he’s not in the mood for chitchat. He’s barely in the mood for naked women, for crying out loud. This is a deep fucking depression.

There are only two promises he’s made to himself: One, he won’t slump like he did after his last divorce. There will be no excessive drinking, which leads to excessively pathetic crying, which leads to a myriad of bad choices out of sheer desperation. Remember that awful dating videotape he made? Yes, there will be no more of that. And then there’s of course two, no drugs – no matter how much he tells himself he wants or fucking needs them. A tiny dot of hope seems to be still dormant in his plastic heart, reminding him that she might come back, and he doesn’t want to risk disappointing her once she does.

Dean has worked fucking hard to be the best version he can be – a version she doesn’t seem to give a shit about. But even he has to admit: He likes himself a lot better now, so he refuses to turn back to old comforts, albeit it’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do.

“You guys interested in doing a floor show?”

Bobby’s words pull him from his reverie. Dean arches a brow at him, straightening a bit in his seat. “What? Here?”

Bobby rolls his eyes. “No, idjit. My wife Ellen has some stakes in a club on the Vegas Strip. She manages the hotel there, too. They’re looking for a new headliner. Just do the exact same show, night after night, 300 miles east. Vegas is where the money is. Headliners make at least 25 grand a week. You think that gym is big? We have to fill 1,100 seats.”

Dean stumps and blinks at the old man a bit baffled. “Well, uh… I’ll think about it. Talk to my partner, the girls…”

Bobby smiles and pats his shoulder as he gets up. “You do that. I’ll call you tomorrow. Now, how about a lap dance? On the house. Can pick any girl that fancies your heartache. You ain’t foolin’ an old man like me.”

Dean chuckles. “Nah, I’m good. But thanks. Think I’m gonna head home and drink myself into a coma there.”

“It’s getting dark soon. How much longer?” Jo’s brown eyes dart to Y/N as she drags her feet over a rocky path. The sun stings less than it did when they started their little hike, but her skin feels perfectly tanned by now and the water is running low.

“Uh, I think it’s supposed to be just up ahead that hill,” Y/N muses and swirls her head around the formation of rocks that all look the same, squinting her eyes into the distance.

Jo sighs, and her stare intensifies. “You’ve been saying that for over an hour. Are we lost?”

“Noooo…” Y/N doesn’t sound convincing and surely doesn’t fool Jo with her reply.

“Alright, gimme the map.”

“I don’t have the map. I gave it to Meg.”

Jo groans and rolls her eyes, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“What? Meg’s the trail leader. Trail leader gets the map,” Y/N defends her faux pas with reason.

“Great! So we’re fucking lost in the desert,” the blonde huffs.

Y/N chuckles lightly, mostly out of uncomfortableness and panic she tries to hide behind it. “No, there’s a trail marker right over there,” she says, pointing to a pile of rocks. “That looks manmade.”

Jo quirks her brow. “You mean like that pile of rocks? Or that one over there?”

Y/N follows her friend’s gaze, only to realize that there are lots of piles of rock that all look too fucking similar. She purses her lips and scratches her head before resting her arms on her squared-off hips. “I think we’re lost.”

“Yeah.” With an exhaustive sigh, Jo plops down on another pile of rocks and watches as the orange sun dips behind the horizon, shadows of blue slowly crawling across the desert floor and swallowing the light.

Y/N clumsily lowers herself down next to the blonde. Her leg hurts like a bitch, and the desert sand that has wound its way into her cast itches a good deal. Her hands and arms hurt as well from clinging to her crutches all afternoon. Maybe Dean was right, and this was a bad idea, after all. Why does he always have to be fucking right about everything? How can one person be so annoying and frustrating all at once?

“Well, you finally get your wish,” Jo deadpans. “We’re gonna die together.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says ruefully and looks at the first stars appearing in the night sky. “Maybe the stars will guide us home.”

Jo just looks at her, unamused and unsurprised. “You’ve never been camping, have you?”

Y/N twitches her shoulders apologetically. “It was only supposed to be a three-mile moderate beginner’s trail to a beautiful vista. It’s what the guidebook said.”

Jo shakes her head and blows a raspberry, hugging her knees. “Joanna Wesson, 27, found dead near a random cluster of rocks that might have looked like a trail marker. She was best known for playing Beth Crowne on the soap opera Paradise Bay before trying to revive her career on an unsuccessful wrestling show. She is survived by her son, Sammy, and her bitter ex-husband Sam with his secretary Jessica.”

“Well, at least you get an obituary,” Y/N quips. “Mine would just read: Soap Star Found Dead Next to Unidentified Woman in National Park.”

Jo even snorts at that. “Well, I’m sure Dean would cut and edit an adorable video tribute with a bunch of B-roll about you at your funeral.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Y/N pensively licks her lips, her heart doing those painful twinges again whenever she thinks of him. “You know yet what you’re gonna do next?”

“No, I-… I think I wanna produce,” Jo announces with determination in her hazel eyes. “I don’t wanna ask permission. I’m so tired of it all. For once, I wanna boss people around and tell ‘em what to do. You know, you were right.”

Baffled, Y/N raises a brow. “About what?”

“Men,” Jo says simply and then spits with fire, “I fucking hate them all. The Crowleys and the Dicks and the Cases and the Sams and the Deans… They make the choices. They dictate the terms… I’m sick of it all. I just hate asking them for anything.”

“Dean’s not so bad,” Y/N says quietly but doesn’t look at Jo. Her heart stings for the millionth time. “I got that role for the Sondheim musical. They called this morning.”

Jo’s lips curve into a soft smile that reaches her eyes. “Congrats. I’m not surprised. You were really fucking good.”

Y/N’s heart flutters a little at the compliment. Tears begin to sting her eyes. She can’t remember the last time Jo was nice to her. “Thank you.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” Jo notes attentively.

“No, I am,” Y/N manages to choke out, but the sniffling betrays her intentions.

“But?”

Y/N bobs her head, swallowing. “I think I’m ready to talk about it now.”

“Fucking finally,” Jo huffs and rubs her cold and goosebump-littered arms as the heat disappears, the nightly air bringing a fresh breeze.

“Dean told me he loves me,” Y/N confesses. “He’s in love with me.”

“Yeah, no shit. Kinda obvious,” Jo says without a twitch of surprise. “Don’t feel bad for not loving him back. That’s what they want… For us to feel bad about every single fucking thing.”

“That’s just it. I don’t think that’s how I feel,” Y/N replies and lets out a jittery sigh.

Jo’s head turns to her, eyeing her friend up and down. “And how do we feel about that? I can’t tell. It’s too dark to see your face.”

“I-, uh, I don’t exactly know,” Y/N says, which is partially true. She might know how she feels about the green-eyed director, but not how she feels about the situation overall.

Jo purses her lips and nods. “Alright, here’s a couple of options: happy, excited, scared, or… repulsed?”

“Well, uhm… scared,” Y/N admits slowly and gulps. “And excited… happy.”

Jo throws her arms up, shaking her head at the stars. “Jesus fuck! Then what the fuck are we doing here?! Is that why you dragged me all the way to the fucking desert? Because you’re running from your feelings?”

“Kinda. I thought the peaceful quiet and beautiful nature would bring me some much-needed clarity,” Y/N explains.

Jo lifts a brow but tries not to seem too annoyed. She’s accustomed to her friend’s theatrics, after all. “And? Did it?”

“The hike didn’t, but facing death kinda does,” Y/N jokes and begins to laugh a little, Jo soon joining her. When their laughter dies down and the desert sounds of chirping crickets and screeching eagles remain, Y/N exhales a shaky breath. “I’m in love with him, too. He makes me really fucking happy. But… I finally feel like I’m on the right track with my career. I am where I’m supposed to be, you know? I don’t wanna throw that away for a guy.”

“Who says you should?”

“I don’t know… Isn’t that how it goes? You did it,” Y/N argues.

Jo licks her lips and clicks her tongue. “Yeah, ‘cause I chose the wrong fucking guy. Sam made me give up everything I ever loved and told me what to love instead. If you pick the right guy, he won’t make you do that.”

“How do I know it’s the right guy, though?”

Jo smiles softly. “Look, I’m not Dean’s biggest fan, but he’s yours. You know that, right? He’d never hold you back. He adores the ground you walk on. Yes, he’s an asshole with so many fucking issues, and he’s goddamn annoying most of the time, but he’s always had your back, even when he pretended that he didn’t. The guy would probably sell every limb and his fucking soul to see you get everything you ever wanted, Y/N. He wouldn’t be a mistake. You know what would be a mistake? Not trying because you’re too scared of making one. Don’t be fucking stupid.”

Thoughtfully, Y/N nods in agreement and grabs her crutches, rising from her rocky seat. “I need to see him. We have to head back to the city.”

“Finally! Thank fucking God.” With a grunt, Jo jumps to her feet and helps Y/N to steady hers. “Maybe the girls made a fire bright enough, so we can find our way back.”

“Shit.”

“What? They have matches, don’t they? I’m sure these bitches can manage a simple fire, right?” Jo then notices Y/N’s hand curling around her bicep, her grip tightening. And then, Jo glances in the direction of Y/N’s eyes and sees the same damn thing. Her brown eyes widen.

“Mountain lion.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” the blonde hisses and holds on to her friend as well. Both women freeze on the spot. “What-, uh, what should we do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we should throw a stick?”

“A stick?” Jo arches her brow. The big cat snarls and stalks a little closer, making the two women jump back. Their hearts are thumping in their throats at this point. “It’s not a fucking dog, Y/N. It won’t play fetch with you.”

“I know that. How about you come up with a better idea, then?” Y/N snaps through gritted teeth. The lion hisses again, causing the women to tremble down to their bones and hug each other tighter. “I think I should jump it.”

“Are you nuts? No!”

“Look, while it eats me, you can flee. I can’t run with my cast anyways. This is the best option,” Y/N insists, but Jo vehemently shakes her head.

“Fuck no! You’re not sacrificing yourself. We die together. You’re not leaving me behind,” Jo maintains. “I always knew my death would be your fault. Don’t ask me how, but I knew you’d get me killed somehow.”

The wild cat takes another step forward and lowers to the ground as if to get ready to jump its prey – them. But then a few tumbling rocks and breaking twigs draw its attention behind the women. Is there an even bigger cat here?

And suddenly, Meg leaps forward from above them with a loud howl and snarls at the cat, which hastily tucks its tail between its legs and flees down the hill into the dark night. Y/N and Jo expel a big breath of relief and a shaky laugh as they find Meg.

“Meg, what the fuck? Did you just scare away a mountain lion?” Y/N gapes at her friend in utter disbelief.

Meg only shrugs her shoulders. “I hate cats. What are you guys doing out here so long?”

“We got lost. Couldn’t find our way back to camp,” Y/N explains.

Meg furrows her brow and thumbs behind her. “It’s just over there. You guys have been hiking around the same hill for five hours.”

Jo shoots Y/N a small glare of annoyance and blows some loose strands of blonde hair out of her face. “Of course we did…” she mutters.

“We have to get back to LA!” Y/N declares eagerly, trying to climb the small rocky hill with her crutches, foregoing the more suitable pathway.

“Right now? It’s probably 3am when we get to Burbank. Can’t this wait till tomorrow?” Jo says as she attempts to climb after her friend.

“No! I almost died! Twice… Dean needs to know how I feel before I get bit by a rattlesnake, too,” Y/N reiterates passionately.

“It’s probably for the best,” Meg chimes in. “We kinda forgot to pack food. I was about to hunt something for us when I ran into you guys. We have tons of drugs and booze, though.”

Y/N’s knuckles thunder persistently on Dean’s door and conjure up a storm. She has jumped out of Ruby’s limo so fast, the girls are still scrambling out and flooding Dean’s front lawn one by one. They’re loud and obnoxious, but the ringing in her ears makes their chatter barely noticeable.

The lock clicks and the door opens. Dean stands in front of her with weary green eyes, heavy with sleep, tousled bed-head, and a furiously scrunched brow. He half yawns and half grumbles, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Once he feels clearer, minus the soft buzz of whiskey remnants in his bloodstream, he blinks at the young actress in front of him and then tilts his head at the circus show behind her.

God, between his punk rock daughter and this, his neighbors must really hate him.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you guys supposed to be camping in fucking Joshua Tree?” His voice is a gravelly bark. He doesn’t mean to sound so harsh, especially when he just woke from a dream about her, but he’s not as masochistic as he used to be. He’s not a fan of torturing himself with the image of her any longer.

Y/N’s heart somersaults as soon as she sees him, even though his apprehension hurts a bit. “Look, I almost died tonight. We got lost in the desert and then a mountain lion almost fucking ate us.”

Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yeah, I’m not fucking surprised. Told you Palm Springs is the better option. So, did anyone fucking die? What’s the head count?”

“No one died.”

“Huh. Then why the fuck are you here in the middle of the night, Y/N?” Dean bites, his brow creasing in anger. He can’t even fucking look at her for a second without his heart being on the brink of an explosion. Even saying her goddamn name hurts like needle pricks in an abused vein.

“I–” Y/N swallows thickly. Her drumming heart is stuck in her airway along with her words.

“She’s here to tell you she loves you!” Ruby hollers behind her before several girls tackle her and clasp her mouth shut.

Dean’s heart twists upon the sick joke, his frown deepening. But then he glances at Y/N and thinks he can spot the truth in her eyes. He thought that once before, though, and was terribly wrong.

Y/N gives a shrug of one shoulder with tears brimming in her eyes. A small smile forms on her lips. “What she said.”

Dean nods and drags a hand over his freckled face, feeling the tears well in his eyes, too. Fucking whiskey. Always renders him goddamn sentimental. “Look, uhm, you kinda gotta tell me this yourself. Otherwise, I won’t believe it, okay?”

Upon his request, Y/N takes a deep breath and looks him into his eyes. “I’m in fucking love with you.” As soon as the words are out, she starts crying and the tears fall down her cheeks. Meanwhile, Dean’s heart tumbles into free fall, and he’s sure not even a parachute can stop it. “I’ve never said that to anyone in my life. Is-, is it too late?”

Dean snorts and shakes his head, grinning brighter than the California sun on the longest day of the year. “Fuck no. Even if it had taken you thirty years, I still would’ve taken you back. That’s kinda how once-in-a-lifetime love works, sweetheart.”

“Okay. Sounds like a good movie,” Y/N jokes between her tears, her fingers tingling to touch him.

“Yeah, best one there is.”

His hands grab hold of her and pull her into his embrace. He claims her lips, Y/N eagerly parting her mouth as his tongue slips between. The kiss is rushed and fervent and perfectly desperate. They’re both so gone they can’t even hear the girls cheering and applauding them in the background.

“You’re gonna come inside?” Dean asks in a murmur against her lips, barely letting her breath.

“Uhm…”

“Hey, Lothario, you got space for us, too?” Cassie shouts with a wide smirk.

“Yeah, we’re fucking starving,” Ruby adds with an impatiently arched brow.

“We, uh, forgot to pack food,” Y/N explains with a chuckle.

Dean sighs and smiles knowingly. “Of course you did.” He then turns to the women waiting on his lawn. “Alright, get in. I’ll order some pizzas.”

The women then proceed to brush past the couple and filter into Dean’s house. Missouri pinches his cheeks, Ruby pats his head, Cassie fist-bumps him and sends Y/N a flirty wink, Meg tousles his hair, Charlie shrugs apologetically, and Jo offers an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m never gonna get rid of them, am I?” Dean looks down at her and tightens his jaw, even when a grin is visible.

“No, I’m afraid not. It’s like you’ve adopted twelve strays. One of which actually turned out to be your long-lost puppy. They’re gonna be here until you die and then eat your corpse,” Y/N quips.

“Funny.” Dean clicks his tongue, his dimples itching to form a grin.

“Oooo! Let’s call the guys!” he hears Ruby exclaim from inside his living room. “It’s a fucking wrap party at the boss’ house!”

“No! No party! Guys, c’mon!” Dean storms inside after them, leaving Y/N giggling on his doorstep.

“Let’s call Garth, Kevin, and Benny!” Donna suggests, ignoring his protests. It’s like they can’t fucking hear him.

“I’ll call my husband, too!” Bela adds and eagerly dials Cas’ number on his landline.

“Oh, right, Cas…” Dean mutters with an eye roll as he remembers the impromptu wedding. “No fucking Benny!”

Y/N joins his side and rubs his back in comfort as he watches his house sink into female doom. “You okay?”

The deep trenches in his brow flatten into soft valleys as his green eyes lock on her. He dips his head and pulls her to his lips, kissing her slow and reverently. “Better.” He smirks. “Just gonna have to sage the whole house tomorrow.”

That earns him a playful slap on his chest. He laughs and pulls her closer with an arm around her waist.

“Hey, uh, speaking of party…” Dean mumbles before he addresses the whole room, grabbing their attention with an authoritative clear of his throat. He’s still got it. “You guys wanna do shows in Vegas?”

“What?!”

Dean’s eyes find Y/N’s gaping face. He chuckles a little. “Yeah, uh, Bobby offered me a deal. There’s nothing in the network contract about live shows. I already went over it with Cas this afternoon. It pays well, too. You guys interested? It’s not like any of you have actual jobs lined up, right?”

Y/N closes her mouth. “I got that Sondheim musical in San Diego. It’s a workshop production, but if it goes well, it could go all the way to Broadway. I could end up in New York.”

“Good,” Dean says and smirks. “You’re fucking fired.”

“WHAT?!” Y/N’s mouth falls open again. “You said you’d never fire me!”

“Yeah, well, this is for your own good,” Dean reasons. “You think I’m gonna let you quit Sondheim for some stupid wrestling show in Vegas? You gotta be fucking nuts! This is what you fucking wanted. Don’t make me kick your stupid ass onto that stage. It’s gonna look embarrassing for you again…”

Y/N bites her lips to conceal her grin. Her eyes meet Jo’s, who mouths ‘I told you so’ at her. “Thank you,” she tells Dean and kisses his cheek. He furrows his brow at her in suspicion. “But rehearsals don’t start until June. Still gonna need a job till then.”

“Oh.” Dean’s brow shoots up in realization. “The June in nine months?”

“Yeah, the June in nine months,” Y/N confirms with a laugh.

“Whoops. Well, consider yourself rehired till June, then,” Dean relents.

“So, if I ever have to work in New York–”

“Then we’ll go to New York. Big fucking whoop-dee-doo. You know I hate LA.”

Y/N giggles, nodding. “What would you do in New York?”

“Same I do here, just on a little balcony instead of a backyard. I sit with my typewriter by a table and smoke and drink,” Dean retorts. “I’ve actually been working on a new script. I’m moving away from horror and into Western.”

“Got inspired by the motel’s wallpaper, huh?” Y/N teases. “What’s it about?”

“Father-daughter storyline. Thought I’d give that a shot…”

1990, 5 years later…

“Dean! We’re gonna be late!” Y/N reminds him and holds the blindfold in place over her eyes as he drags her somewhere by the hand. Her heels can barely keep up with his fast pace. “You know, check-in at LAX is the worst. Our flight departs in two hours. I’m nominated, Dean! I can’t reschedule! The girls are all flying in, too…”

“I know! I’m fucking hurrying, okay?” Dean assures. However, she can hear the stress and tension in his gravelly voice. He then suddenly halts and positions her into place by her shoulders before carefully taking off the blindfold. “Alright, here we are.”

Y/N blinks her eyes open and recognizes blurry shapes of purple and gold. She lifts an eyebrow as ornaments on the walls and a big stage come into view as well. “The Aztec porno theater?”

“Mayan,” Dean corrects her and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he gets down in front of her on one knee and tries to fumble out the too-big ring box from his too-tiny suit jacket pocket. “Son of a bitch!”

“Dean, wait!” Y/N stops his endeavor with raised palms, her eyebrows meeting her hairline when she realizes what he’s about to do.

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N!” Dean frowns in frustration and rises to his feet with a huff and a shaking head. “I know you’re against marriage and the patriarchy and all that bullshit, but c’mon… We’ve been dating for five years. We have a good thing going, right?”

After spending a whole year in beautiful Las Vegas – the Paris of Nevada – the two of them moved to New York. Dean sold his house in Burbank and opted for a Brooklyn apartment instead. Claire also studied film at NYU before she graduated last Spring. But every few months, the couple finds themselves back in LA – for interviews, for business, for friends.

“Dean–”

“No! You know me. I’d make a great fucking husband. You love it when I make reporters laugh on the red carpet. I’m an awesome trophy husband, okay?”

“DEAN!”

“WHAT?!”

Why the fuck is she angry now? He should be the one that’s angry. She’s turning down the best opportunity of her life. She should consider herself lucky he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. He even had an amazing speech prepared to knock her right off her feet, but does he get to say it now? How he wanted to grow fucking old together and support each other? How he wanted to marry her all those years ago when she told him she was pregnant? Nope...

“I’m fucking pregnant!”

Dean blinks at her in confusion before his eyes begin to wander around the familiar theater. Did he take something? Drink too much? Did he actually travel through time or is this a weird fever dream on his deathbed?

“What’s it with you and this theater? And why do you always yell that?”

“Because you never listen.” Y/N giggles and bites her lower lip. “And I’ll gladly marry you if that’s what you were going for. I just figured I’d tell you before in case you wanna change your mind and bail.”

“Why the fuck would I bail?” Dean’s brows knit together, close to offense.

She shrugs and holds up her palms in surrender. “I don’t know! I didn’t want you to feel trapped.”

“Why? Isn’t it mine?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, a grin twitching on her pink lips as she slaps his arm. “Yes, of course it’s yours.”

“And you’re keeping it? You sure?” Dean throws her a quizzical look.

Her brow furrows. “Why, you aren’t?”

“No, I am!” he assures her swiftly, realizing how it sounded. “Hell yeah, I want another kid! You know I always wanted to make up for missing out on Claire so much! I finally get to change a diaper, go to the park, or the fucking zoo while my wife works… It’ll be so fun!”

Y/N tries to stifle her laugh. He seems happy, judging by the joyful glint in his green eyes. They resemble sparkling emeralds.

“But are you sure, y' know?” Dean checks with a deep look into her eyes. “I mean, I do what I can to support you and keep the thing alive in your absence, but you know you’re still gonna be benched for a couple of months, right? I’m not a fucking seahorse.”

Y/N laughs a little at that. “I know. I’m fine with sitting on the bench for a little while. I’m kinda exhausted. I did two Broadway musicals almost back to back, three off-Broadway shows, all the workshops and the rehearsals and Matinees and the dancing and the singing… Not to mention I’m nominated for a fucking Tony tonight,” she says and is close to out of breath by the time she finishes her list of accomplishments.

“Which you’re gonna win,” Dean reassures her persistently. He’s been telling her since the nominations were announced (and even before that when he first saw her in the role on the first night).

“We’ll see,” she brushes him off, although her blushed cheeks betray her words. In her heart, she hopes so as well. “Anyways, I could use the break,” she admits and takes his hands in hers, interlacing their fingers. She places a loving kiss on his lips. “Right time, right guy, right baby,” she says, smiling.

Dean squeezes her hand happily and pulls her to his lips for a searing kiss. “So, where did we land on that whole marriage thing?”

“See? You’re never listening,” she teases, laughing. “Yes, I’ll marry you. Under one condition…”

Dean smirks. “I've had the same exact thought – Vegas. It’s perfect!”

“What, no! I don’t wanna get married in filthy Vegas, you dork!” Y/N frowns playfully, shaking her head. “I wanna get married in Nebraska. I want my dad to marry us."

Dean’s brow creases. He chuckles in amusement. “What, like a shotgun wedding? Could be fun… Pastor marries pregnant daughter to older man. Is this gonna make headlines in the townie paper?”

Y/N snorts, shaking her head at him. “No, it’s a shotgun wedding. It’s very common,” she deadpans.

“I’ve never met your parents,” Dean realizes then. “Why have I never met your parents? It’s weird they never come visit you,” he ponders.

“Oh no, they do,” Y/N tells him, pursing her lips as she twirls her hair around her finger. “They’ve seen me both in Into The Woods and Gypsy.”

“Really, when?” Dean narrows his eyes at her.

“Whenever you were in LA, visiting Claire,” Y/N admits ruefully. She never told them she was dating the director, not sure if they’d approve – not that she gives a shit, but she wanted to spare herself all the sermons and the exploring of the Sunday school dating pool. Whenever they asked who owned the men’s clothes in her apartment, she lied and said she had a gay-but-in-the-closet roommate. “But you can meet them now,” she promises with a reassuring smile on her lips. Thank God she’s an excellent, Tony-nominated actress. “I’m sure they learn to love you just like I did.”

“Learn to?”

“I love you.” Y/N smiles mischievously and shuts up any further comments by kissing him.

Dean grins and relents with a blissful sigh. “I love you, too.”

THE END 🌅

Thank you all so much for reading and making me laugh with your comments and screams throughout! 🤍

Are we done with these two for good? Probably not. I've left gaps and doors open on purpose, so I'm sure they'll make an appearance again at some point in the future 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad

@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70

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brandyllyn · 3 months

Text

Silk from their soul (23)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: T Words: 1.3k Summary: Mad science

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

They find you the next morning with your head in Cooper’s lap. He’s lightly stroking your hair and neck while you blink sleepily at the man at the door.

“Travis?”

The man makes a curt sign and you sit up. You don’t recognize him - an older man wearing a giant pair of headphones.

Cooper rises first and puts a hand out to help you up. Your feet are still tied to the pillar behind you but he’s free to take a step in front of you and square up.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you mutter to yourself before putting a restraining hand on his shoulder.

He glances back at you. “You wanna try that whole talking bit again first?”

“More flies with honey,” you tell him and he rolls his eyes.

“Now I already told you that ain’t true.”

You ignore the comment and smile at the new man. “Hi! I’m… well that’s not important really. And you are?”

The man ignores you and a moment later his aroma hits, making you gag. “Oh God.”

“I ain’t got much of a working sniffer but even I can tell you that fella’s just two shits short of a dung heap.”

He whispers the words to you, kinda, and you elbow him hard. “Be nice.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree for that, sweetheart.”

“Ella!”

You freeze, mouth suddenly going dry. You never expected to hear that voice again - had hoped you never would. At least not while you were still at his mercy.

“Dr. Galen.”

“Ella, you naughty thing, how did you get into this mess?” He looks the same as he always did - bald, a foot shorter than you, and maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet. His glasses are too big for his pinched face and he waves a hand at the room before glaring at you over them. “I raised you better than this.”

Cooper glances at him before focusing his attention on you. “He from that facility you were telling me about?”

You nod, too tongue tied for a moment to speak. Finally, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’ve come to fetch you. Your new own- husband has been worried sick. As a favor I told him I would help look, seeing as how I know you so well.”

Which meant he’d been coerced into it. Galen never left the facility. Not in all the time you’ve known him. Bargains were made through the door, through intermediaries if possible. Had Nero invaded the facility? You’re not brave enough to ask.

“An odd choice in protector,” Galen tuts, sparing a look at Cooper, “I would have thought you’d find someone more amenable to your charms. Like the gentlemen out here.”

You’d forgotten about the three men. You rather hoped they were still alive - they weren’t terrible. Just… bounty hunters.

“Why does he think I’m not amenable to your charms?”

You could kiss him for completely ignoring Galen. It was annoying the other man to no end. Cooper is talking too low to be heard, but that doesn’t seem to matter.

“He means you’re not… not irradiated.”

“Does he think our cocks stop working just ‘cause we get a bit a sunburn?”

The comment makes you giggle and he gives you a grin. His absolute nonchalance is giving you some courage and you lift your chin as you ask Galen, “So what’s next?”

“We’ll take you to the Stateline. I believe there is some discussion of reward but you know how much I abhor talk of money.”

“Except when you were selling my sisters,” you mumble. The man with headphones and reeking of week old fish steps into the room, a gun pointed straight at you. You hold your bound hands up and elbow for Cooper to do the same. He does, begrudgingly, and even takes a step away so the man can cut the rope binding your feet.

When you head for the door Galen holds up a hand. “Just you, the necrotic can stay here.”

“The fuck I-”

It’s your turn to step between them, giving Galen your brightest smile. Your charms don’t work on him at all, he’d made sure of that, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have any tricks up your sleeve.

“Now Dr. Galen, you told me I must always be fair and kind to others. Mister…” you hesitate, unsure if Cooper would want you telling people his name, “this necrotic man has helped me get back safely to the Stateline. It wouldn’t be right to leave him here. I believe he is only looking for work.”

“Just an honest day’s wage,” Cooper drawls unconvincingly.

Galen glares for a moment before giving you a patronizing shake of his head. “You are too soft, my girl. Always were. I knew I was right to keep you for so long.”

You keep your eyes blank, your smile pasted on. Let him think whatever he wants. The only chance you have of this not being a one-way trip is if Cooper comes with you.

“Want me to kill him for you?” Cooper asks a moment later, after Galen had curtly nodded and left the doorway, his voice pitched low enough only you can hear. You try to stop the laugh that wants to burst out and dart a glance back at him.

“Think you could?”

“Simpler than taking a piss.”

“He’s got bodyguards,” you point out as you walk past them back into the other room. The three bounty hunters are standing together, looking pissed off. Galen has a group of about a half dozen with him, all of them wearing headphones and stinking to high heaven.

“Now sweetheart, I thought you had more faith in me than that.”

You turn your attention to the first bodyguard, taking a deep breath and preparing to work your charms. But the man barely spares you a glance and even as you open your mouth he turns away and makes a signal at one of the others.

Oh.

Oh shit. Galen had come prepared. These men couldn’t hear you, couldn’t be convinced by you. And your pheromones weren’t going to be worth anything either if they couldn’t smell them over their own B.O.

Suddenly you were doubly glad to have Cooper at your back.

“You still wanna go through with this?” he asks, eyes roving the room. He’s looking for weak spots, planning an escape.

“If I don’t then Galen goes back to making more people like me, more clones. It doesn’t seem right.”

He scoffs, snorting almost into your ear. “Why don’t you shit in one hand and wait for what’s right in the other - we’ll see what fills up faster.”

“I don’t think that’s how that saying goes.”

“Hey, look at me.” You turn, stopping so abruptly he nearly runs into you. The guards are clearing out the rooms and Galen is talking quietly to one in the corner. For the moment, it’s just the two of you. “You don’t owe nobody a damn thing. You want to get out of here, you just give the word.”

God, you could kiss him. But even as his words sink in you know it’s not obligation that is making you go back. “It’s what’s right.”

“And I suppose you’re going to want to talk these fellas round to that way of thinking?”

He looks so put out you have to stifle a laugh. “Oh no, Galen deserves worse than death for what he’s done. The rest of these guys… I’ll let you decide.”

The grin that covers his face is downright evil. “Me? Darlin’, you shouldn’t have.” He takes in the room, fingers twitching. “Now?”

“No, we should probably get Nero too.”

“You seem pretty damn confident I can take out a whole hive of raiders all by my lonesome.”

Batting your eyelashes you give him your most innocent look. “Can’t you?”

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout series

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hotvinimon · 9 months

Text

The Meet

Yandere gym bro x reader

Plot : First encounter with the yandere gym bro

Author’s note : The images are not mine. I don not support this kind of behaviour and highly condemn these activities. This kind of behaviour is not tolerated in actual life.

Warnings : MDNI. The images are not mine.

Join my taglist - Here

As the new year began, you were all set to tackle your resolutions head-on. You had achieved "Glass Skin" and landed a "Good Job." The final item on your list: attain that classic "thin and built figure."

You've embraced your curves your entire life – the envy of many! Your figure boasted a petite waist, a cherubic face, bouncy tits and hips that danced with every step. But, much like everyone else, you also longed for something you lacked: muscles.

And so, here you are, signing up for an annual gym membership. "This is a fabulous health leap you're making, ma'am," chirped the receptionist, selling the benefits of the gym like hotcakes. "When do we expect you?" she asked eagerly. "I'm thinking 6 AM," you gleefully replied. "Oh, splendid! Few souls at that hour," she exclaimed. "You can start tomorrow. Cheers to your fitness journey!" she concluded, flashing that professional smile and tone.

Next day rolled by, and here you were starting your fitness journey with a set new gym clothes. A sports bra and sports shorts, that sat just below your ass.

True to the receptionist's assurance, the gym was deserted at that early hour, save for a single individual, a strapping lad, bulging with muscles as if they were molded from solid granite was working out. With each sinewy movement, his muscles rippled and flexed beneath his skin, showcasing an impressive display of power and strength.

He strides through the gym, his broad shoulders squared, exuding an air of confidence that commands attention. The veins in his arms pop with every curl of the weight, his biceps swelling and contracting with controlled precision. His chest, a wall of carved steel, expands with each deep breath as he conquers the bench press effortlessly.

The sweat glistens on his chiseled physique, accentuating the definition of every muscle group - from the sculpted abs that resemble a washboard, to the powerful thighs that propel him through each exercise. His dedication to fitness is evident in the way he attacks every set, pushing his limits with an unwavering determination.

As he moves from one machine to another, the gym seems to revolve around him. His intense focus, coupled with the raw power he emits, inspires a sense of awe among those around him. He is the epitome of strength and fitness, a living testament to the results of hard work, discipline, and dedication in the gym.

"Enjoying the view, young miss?" a deep voice growled beside you, causing a startled reaction. You turned towards the voice, wide-eyed and flustered. It was the very Greek god-like figure you'd been daydreaming about. He chuckled at your reaction, and you fumbled for words, blurting out a classic “N-No No… uhh.. actually I wasn’t able to open my water bottle.” You blurted out and patted yourself in your dreams for coming up with such a nice excuse. Corporate does benefit sometimes. “And I suppose you want me to open up that for you ?” The man asked. “I would really appreciate that”, you chirped happily.

After the encounter you made sure to not let your gaze wander and do what you were here for.

And oh sweetheart, Little did you know that someone had their keen eyes on you, imagining all the things with your bouncy assets in the slutty gym dress, that wasn’t supposed to be worn in gym which could have been filled with testosterones but luckily you chose the very wrong right time.

After two hours of grinding, you were relaxing on the bench, where your ‘bottle opener’ came. “Are you new here miss ?”, he asked. “It’s y/n and yes. I joined yesterday” you replied with a cheery voice. “I’m Casper, and that’s great tho. How about a coffee down the street ?” He offered.

" Sure Caz~ "

V-Chan’s Dilly Dally

My exams are finally over. And here is the first masterpeice after exams. I really hope you guys like it. Please tell me the next steps. Also comment to join the taglist.

#yandere boy #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere community #yandere oc #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere gym bro #yandere fic #yandere imagine #yandere stories #yandere x darling

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chvoswxtch · 2 years

Text

baking with matty & frankie

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader x frank castle

summary: your boyfriends insist on accompanying you to a baking class.

warnings: swearing, all the tooth rotting fluff in the world

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this lil drabble was inspired by a daydream @neverlandcity & I came up with together about how funny it would be to take a baking class with our idiot boyfriends, & how we would both absolutely sell our soul for this. thanks for always contributing to my silly little fantasies about these two sweet baby d. <3

psa, if you come into my inbox to ramble about your daydreams with me, odds are i'm gonna write it.

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“Jesus Chr-would you shut the fuck up?”

“That’s not what it’s supposed to look like-”

“And how the fuck would you know what it looks like, Red?”

“I don’t need to see to know you’re going in the wrong direction, Castle. It’s supposed to be the other way-”

“Did I lecture you when you were doin’ your part? Huh? Quit bustin’ my goddamn balls and get off my ass.”

“Frank you’re-”

“Everything alright over here?”

Frank and Matt both whipped their heads in the direction of the instructor, a light shade of scarlet coating both of their cheeks as they cleared their throats and mumbled apologies. A smirk tugged over your lips as you caught the instructor’s eye, popping another chocolate chip into your mouth as you leaned against the counter and shrugged.

“They’re just having a lovers quarrel. Happens all the time.”

Matt’s plump lips immediately pursed into a pout as he stood with his hands on his hips, and Frank let out a quiet grunt in the back of his throat while returning to the task at hand. You couldn’t help but giggle as the instructor walked away, earning a glare from both men.

“Keep it up. We’ll see how much you’ll be laughin’ later when we get you home.”

Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you grinned as you moved to stand in between Matt and Frank, gently wrapping your fingers around Frank’s forearm.

“Hey, you two said you would behave, remember?”

“We are behaving.”

“Lying is a sin, Matthew.”

Matt let out a quiet scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the table. You couldn’t help but giggle again as you turned to gently cup his face in your hand.

“Aww, don’t pout Matty. You’re both doing a great job. But if you keep bickering like that, you’re gonna get us kicked out of this baking class, and I really wanna stay. So can you two please be nice? Frankie?”

Frank let out another quiet grunt as you looked at him, twisting the top of the pastry bag in his massive hands as he continued to pipe frosting onto the cake he twisted around on the stand.

Initially, you had planned to come to this baking class alone. It had been a stressful week, and you wanted to do something fun to take your mind off of it. Baking was something that you’d always enjoyed, so you signed yourself up for a class that evening. As you were getting ready to walk out the door, Frank caught your arm and blocked your path to the door.

“Where you goin’?”

“To a baking class. I won’t be gone long.”

“A bakin’ class? You already know how to bake, darlin’. The hell you need a class for?”

A soft laugh left your lips as you placed your hands on his broad chest, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Because it’s fun and relaxing, and I could learn a few things I don’t know.”

Frank stared down at you for a moment with a look of contemplation, moving his hands down to settle on your waist as he pulled you in closer to his chest.

“Can I come?”

A look of surprise flashed across your features as you stared up at Frank with a smile blooming on your lips.

“You wanna come with me?”

“I don’t like you goin’ places alone.”

“I’ll be fine, Frankie. It’s not far.”

“I never learned to bake. I was s’posed to…said I would, ya’know? Just never got around to it.”

Staring up at Frank with a soft smile, you brought your hand up to gently push his hair back into place when you realized he was talking about a promise he never got to fulfill with Maria.

“Okay, baby. You can come.”

“Can I come too?”

Matt suddenly appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, tilting his head to the side slightly as he stared blankly in your direction.

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business for one night? Ain’t you got devil shit to do?”

“Don’t you have murder and felonies to commit?”

“Boys, please. We’ve talked about this. Yes Matty, you can come too.”

Frank grumbled under his breath as a proud toothy grin stretched across Matt’s lips, causing your favorite dimples to appear on either side of his cheeks.

“Wipe that fuckin’ smile off your face, Red. Or I’ll knock it off.”

Everyone’s eyes were on you the second you stepped into the building with Matt and Frank on either side of you. You had pretty much gotten used to the confused stares the three of you got. Matt couldn’t see them anyway, and Frank simply didn’t care. But the hunger you saw in the women’s eyes anytime you went somewhere with the two of them still ignited a tiny ember of jealousy in you, causing you to hold onto them both a little tighter.

You couldn’t blame them. You still stared at Matt and Frank like it was your first time seeing them all over again, and they were yours. But you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about with them. Every time you looked at Frank, he was already looking right back at you with a knowing smile. And every time you went to reach for Matt, he was already right beside you with his hand stretched out for you to take.

To your surprise and total delight, Matt and Frank were exceptional at baking. Matt’s heightened senses made him perfect at measuring things, picking out the ripest fruits and freshest ingredients, and knowing exactly when to pull your cakes out of the oven, along with when your frosting had reached peak consistency. Frank’s expertise with a knife allowed him to chop everything as finely and consistently as possible, as well as carve the shape of your cakes perfectly. He assembled them together with immaculate precision, paying close attention to detail as he spread the crumb coat and final frosting layers evenly and smoothly.

Both of them had gotten so wrapped up in it, neither of them realized that you hadn’t done anything the entire time. You watched in awe at the way they moved around the space together, almost perfectly in sync, trading tools and pans wordlessly, actually listening to the others' commentary, complimenting each other's skills and ideas. You couldn’t help but notice the way everyone else in the class watched them too as if you were all in some kind of trance.

These were your favorite moments with them. When they actually got along, and you could see in their actions and hear in their words how much they actually loved each other.

But as it usually went with two people that had very strong personalities, it never lasted too long.

As soon as it came time to put the finishing touches on their creation, they started bickering again. Matt insisted that Frank was piping the decorative icing the wrong way, and Frank kept telling Matt to fuck off. You should’ve stepped in when Frank called Matt a ‘candy ass rule following altar boy’, or when Matt said Frank was an ‘unhinged asshole with a trigger finger’, but you couldn’t stop laughing at the sight of them arguing with lavender colored aprons on.

“Why don’t you two let me finish up? You’ve both taken over this whole thing.”

Both of the men stilled, a guilty look settling on their features.

“Shit. Sorry, darlin’. We didn’t-“

Frank looked at Matt for help, gesturing his hand towards him as Matt’s lips parted, rubbing at the back of his neck as he cleared his throat.

“We got carried away. I…we’re…sorry, sweetheart.”

Shaking your head slowly, you took the piping bag from Frank’s hands and pressed a kiss to both of the boys' cheeks.

“Can’t take you two anywhere.”

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

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keeponquinning · 2 years

Text

Feel The Rain Pour | 18+!! eddie munson x fem!reader one shot!

summary — porn with some plot sprinkled about. eddie's been having a day and you noticed, so you decided to treat him to some alone time with you. things get steamy enough not even the rain can ruin it, maybe even make it better.

preview voiced by eddie —

word count — 21.5k 😭

warnings?? — i mean, it's smut, like, 100000% smut so. oral ( m + f receiving ), p in v sex, unwrapped bc no consequences in fic unless i deem it so, do not apply in real life pls, dirty talk tho nothing too scandalous, use of the word c*nt??, light spanking, like barely there, more smacking.

notes — good god it's finally done, it's finally here, I thought of this smutty idea like MONTHS ago when it was raining. and that....yeah, the thought of, "Oh, it's a one shot, it shouldn't take long" was WRONG lmao it took ALL the time. If you read this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. If you LIKE / LOVE this, THANK YOU WITH ALL MY BEING. If you REBLOG / COMMENT / SHOWING SAID LOVE FOR THIS, you may as well be lucifer bc i'd sell my soul. i hope you all like this, this is my first real comeback to actual fic writing, and my god, it was hard. I'd honestly not read fanfics in so long, like, I think I was a teen, but then this tall white british man that put on a wig and stole our hearts came into the scene and it renewed my life of fanfiction with such ferocity it took me by so much surprise. i've read so many good stuff from fellow writers, i hope this brings even a small amount of joy ya'll brought me reading your stuff. without further ado, read my filth with a touch of fluff. and did i need to use the voice ai for this? yes. yes, I did. ( if you see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't, I'm tired )

taglist ! — @etherealglimmer , @inourtownofhawkins , @fanxxtasygirl , @lunaapis , @kuldxx1, @roxiehorrorshow , @twilightteeth , @paranoidmunson , @aconites , @selfishsaviour

He was having a day, that much you knew. You haven't been together long, but you've learned to see the signs. The tightness of his jaw, the way the light in his dark brown eyes seemed to dim and smolder.

There wasn't a lot you knew about Eddie Munson, other than whispers and gossip that roamed Hawkins High. The Freak of Hawkins was said often and that was all you knew of him, until you shared a class with him and was sat next to him, and for an hour each day, he was all you could really see. Sometimes with a turn of your head, other times out of the corner of your eye, despite yourself. It started off slowly, the first period of class, sometimes he'd come late and seeing him peek at your book to see what page the class was on, doing it enough times that you started to point at the page number for him. That was the first time he smiled at you, amusement and appreciation thrown your way and shit, it was nice.

The way he smiled and looked at you with those chocolate button eyes of his, was nice. And that was when you knew you were fucked. Because after that? Those small interactions meant everything, dropping a pencil and him picking it up for you, fingers grazing together sent your whole arm tingling. You were pretty sure you played it cool, a polite thanks and receiving a nod. He was oddly polite, in mannerism, but the way he looked and smirked at you was...something else. Something that entirely consumed you for the rest of the day, sparking up each time you saw him walk pass in the hallway, or in the cafeteria. Your friends were so oblivious to notice, even when it felt so pathetically obvious when your eyes would meet at least a few times during lunch. Yeah, you were fucked.

Then there was the day he forgot his book, and you two had to share yours, and he smiled over at you. Don't worry, I won't bite, he had said in a joking manner once your desks were joined, the book between you and you had just held back a bit in your seat. And even to this day, you weren't sure why too bad just flew out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though the smile on your face wasn't one of embarrassment, but amusement out of yourself. You were about to say sorry, blame it on being a bad joke, but he beat you to it. Only when given permission, s w e e t h e a r t. You looked at him then, his smile matching your own and his eyes staring directly into yours and words just died in your throat, giving a nod and you settled closer. You heard the teacher's voice, read the text, but understood not a single thing. Just the sound of his voice when he was made to read, the warmth of his body close and yet not close enough to yours and his breathing as he read along silently, when you dared to look at him, seeing his lips move along the words softly and the way your heart fluttered.

Fuck, fuck, fuckity, f u c k.

You were the one that kissed him first, meeting him after school after his Hellfire Club meeting. He had asked to borrow your notes for an upcoming test, your notes much more detailed. He didn't even have to have a reason, he could have asked and you would have pathetically said yes. Your friends were starting to notice, the two of you making more opportunities to interact, to acknowledge each other, and they spoke to you in concern. You didn't really care, especially then when he was still riding off a high after his campaign and you saw it on his face, the way he moved. His eyes lit up, smile wide and his laugh... You didn't ask, but he tried to talk you through it, you weren't there, but you felt you were with how detailed he went into it. You were never into the game, but he was so infectious and captivating, you listened to every word, every movement, it was like he was doing a one man show and you were the only audience that mattered. You didn't know how, but you knew you were the one that kissed him, felt his lips and felt his hands at your hips and pulled you close to him. Tasted him off his tongue and fuck. He never let you forget it, though, that you kissed him first with that smug ass grin of his. You remind him that he's lucky he's cute.

Since that day, you two were pretty inseparable, attached to the hip, it did cost you your friends, and he had felt a bit bad about it. He knew it was because of him, the Freak, but you told him you didn't care, and you didn't, his friends sort of welcomed you anyway and were more genuine than your friends could be. In that time you got to know each other a bit better, was able to read his body language more, and that's when you knew he wasn't his usual self, quieter than normal, more rigid. You'd hope to cheer him up, bringing him to Lover's Lake with some food and beer you had managed to sweet talk your way into buying — fake ID helped in that as well — and had hoped for a nice little sunny outing, yet the overcast sky didn't quite get the message and messed that up for you. "This is a bust," you let out with a sigh, at least finishing your food, throwing the wrappers in the bag you brought. "Sorry, I was picturing sunny skies and laying all warm, but..." you tell him, looking at him with an apologetic face.

He wouldn't have it, though, looking at you with a shake of his head, "What're you talking about? You got me fed, liquored up, got us all to ourselves... Nah, sweetheart, nothing to apologize for, this is great." He stretched his arm, his sleeveless shirt showing off his tattoos on his arm, flexing his ringed fingers, his jacket around your shoulders, seeing you shiver once and immediately throwing it around you despite your protests. You were stubborn, but he was slightly more. Offering a smile, you watched as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close and laid a kiss at the corner of your lips. Chuckling deep at the soft little whine that came out of you, a smirk on his lips as he grasped your chin between finger and thumb, his lips meeting yours in a soft caress. Both of you feeling the smile between you, feeling a wave of relief and he a wave of hunger. Pressing his lips closer, your heart pounding against your chest as he took a deep breath and lips parted. The warmth of his tongue slid across your bottom lip and your body quivered, accepting his tongue, his taste.

His jacket fell from your shoulders, though you didn't feel the cold, just the heat of his kiss and the taste of cheap beer and cigarette — he's such a smoker and before you thought it was gross, but now the taste is undeniably warming up to you. Probably because it was so Eddie, you couldn't help but crave it now. Meeting his tongue with every flick, every roll that makes your head dizzy. You kinda recall your fingers reaching for the hem of his shirt, grasping the fabric and pulling him closer. Fuck, it strokes his ego when you did things like that, show how much you want him. You knew it did. But you didn't much care when you swallow his groan like that his hand moved to your cheek, can feel his breath deepen, chest rising and falling quick. His other hand joins in, cupping your face and it's your moan he swallows next and he does, so eagerly before the kiss ends and you two part, lips wet and thread of spit between you.

Dazed brown eyes look at you, his body warm, kind of tingling. His thumbs stroking along your cheeks, a small lazy smile on his face. "That better, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. Always looking at your face, catching any movement, some sort of tell of what you were feeling. You were breathing deeply, seeming to be in a bit of a haze that he wouldn't lie, stroked his ego and he could feel himself harden in his jeans. He couldn't help it, seeing you like that from his kiss did things to him. His thumb brushing your bottom lip, catching your smile.

"Mmm..." you hummed, keeping close to him. "It's a start... Definitely a start."

His brows raised, his smile widening enough to show his teeth as he let out a breathless laugh. "A start? A start?" You chuckled, his lips peppering yours with kisses. You drove him crazy sometimes, though he liked it, "Can't believe..." he uttered against your lips, kissing you between his words, "..giving my best..." Fingers gliding down your neck, stroking the flesh lightly. "...and you say... It's a start... Killing me here..." Though he's still chuckling, along with you, it makes him forget, at least a bit, caught up in you. There's a lightness in him again, and he knows you can feel it, because he can feel it in you, too.

"It's a good start," you insist with a smile, lips flushed against his lips, teeth finding his bottom lip, biting into it and the groan he lets out brings in a wave of heat through you, pooling within your stomach, felt between your legs. He wraps his arms around you, around your shoulders unexpectedly and pulls you closer, feeling his lip slip between your teeth.

He sucked the lip, the stinging pain from that bite lingering, but in such a way it had zapped through him and went straight for his cock. Feeling a twitch there, jeans getting a bit tighter, but not unbearably so. Looking at you, he shook his head in pure astonishment, eyes scanning your face and fingers digging into your hair. "Shit," he let out, "Y'know what gets me? People look at you and think you're such an innocent little thing." You snorted at that, a roll of his eyes that only makes his smile grow wider. "I'm serious. Yeah, my girl is smart, kind, fucking gorgeous, prettiest thing I've seen..." His train of thought seeming to veer as his lips came to yours again in a soft kiss, fleeting as he let out a hum, feeling you shudder, letting that ego be stroked once again. "They think I'm so mean and scary... Like I bullied you into being with me... That I'm corrupting you. Like I'm gonna ruin you." His nose nuzzled against yours, dark brown eyes staring straight into yours, "That you have to or must be scared of me." His hand moved to the curve of your neck, thumb caressing your jaw as he took a deep breath. "Maybe you should be. Maybe I am ruining you."

He doesn't usually talk like this, which makes you listen to every word carefully until it starts to click. That lightness that had sparked within him dimmed a little with every word, and it's in that moment you realize what exactly had set him on edge today, the way he's looking at you, the jaw clenched again, it makes you take a deep breath and lick your lips. "Who was it?"

A strained laugh escaped him, dark brown eyes slightly flicker amusement as his grip on you loosened and he pulls away a bit. "Like I said — my girl is smart." You watch as he leaned back and rests at the palms of his hands against the grass. "Scott. Carver. Brick, the fuck I know, that meathead you used to slobber all over — well, maybe the other way around."

"Calvin."

He let out a scoff and rolled his eyes so hard, you were sure it must have hurt, but he kept it up. "Calvin, or your pal, Cal," a hint of jealousy in his tone, fingers growing busy as he fiddled with a leaf on the grass by his hand. "Yeah, that guy. Came up to me at the lockers, like some white knight trying to save the damsel. You guys hadn't been together since last year? Yet he sees you with the freak and here he comes running. Saying all sorts of stuff, basically I'm bad for you," he quirked his lips, the leaf now torn to shreds, brushing the remnants of it off his hands. "That I'd drag you down, you got this bright future and I, essentially," his eyes looking up at you. "...will ruin you. That I should let you go. Whatever I'm doing to make, a sweet girl like you," his hand coming toward your face, tucking your hair behind your ear, watching your head lean into the touch and a soft smile appears on his face, taking in an uneven breath. "...a s w e e t girl like you...want anything to do with me, I should just stop, before you turn into a freak, too. And sweetheart, he's not the only one that thinks that. Because your former friends? They think the same."

"Do you believe them?" He doesn't answer you, but you feel the stroke of his thumb against your cheek, he takes a deep breath, but his lips are still. Grasping his hand, you give it a squeeze, "Eddie... Do you believe them?" You watched as he licked his lips, wondering if your taste was still on them, if he was savoring them, gently feeling his hand slide away from your cheek, his warmth lingered though. Slowly fading as your hand found itself on his jean clad knee, fingers trailing over the ripped hole, nails trailing over the skin. There was a sense of a shiver from him, prompting you to move a bit closer. "Baby, tell me you don't believe you're going to ruin me. That's not what's happening here. They're just assholes."

That made him laugh, a soft huff of it as his eyes trailed from your hand on his knee to your eyes, a small barely visible smile on his face. "Honestly?" He inquired, and only when you nodded, he continued, "I dunno. I mean, no, it's not like I went outta my way to..." He shrugged, "Try and get you or anything. Didn't really think much of it, of us being a possibility. Shit, part of me sometimes wonders if its a prank by your buddies. Send the pretty girl to the freak and...be nice to him, kiss him because..." His smile wide as he gave you a nod, "Y'know, you kissed me..." You snorted and rolled your eyes, making him laugh, eyes roaming over you, a proud feeling coursing through him. "Make him feel lucky that...you were goodly enough to do that. And other things... Really...good things."

"What, just good?"

He laughed, "Doesn't feel good, does it, huh?" Referencing your earlier assessment of their kiss.

Which you immediately got, chuckling as you moved closer towards him, close enough to feel his warmth of his body and his gaze. "Touche."

Eddie let out a soft hum, looking into your eyes with a pleased little smile. "I do feel lucky, though. I've noticed you, y'know, long before the school year. Before being sat next to you first period. The thought of you noticing me? Being nice to me — that, wasn't used to that." Shaking his head, he brought up his hand, wrapping it at the side of your neck, thumb caressing against the hallow of your throat. "Most people just...are so annoyed by me," he let out with a soft laugh, an even proud smile. "Something I bring out I guess. Just set 'em on edge, not gonna lie, I don't hate it. Gives me a kinda thrill to piss off so many people while just existing. That's natural born talent."

He wasn't wrong, after all, before the school year, all you knew of him was what was whispered and gossiped among friends and classmates. When you thought about it, there was a sense of unease whenever he happened to walk along the halls, making no qualms of his presence known. Back then, you didn't think much of it, you figured it was just the way it was and something to be endured. No one had attempted to know him, aside from the other outcasts, the ones that didn't fit in. You supposed you did, though barely, you weren't one of the popular ones but you were somewhere in between. You didn't hate Eddie, you just didn't know him, though you supposed there was a part of you that was helpless to take notice of him, even then. Though now...

"But you," he continued, eyes pouring over you, shaking his head lightly from side to side. "I dunno... You weren't like that. Not like them. You didn't seem scared, annoyed, maybe a bit quiet at first, but..." He shrugged, trying to explain it, even just a bit. Thing was, he did expect you to be like your friends. Ignore him, mock him, but since the day you simply pointed at the page number after he had peeked so many times, he was a little drawn to you. Not thinking he had a chance, of course. But, he liked being close to you, even if just in class, passing you through the halls, the fact you'd have an actual conversation with him. He knew it wouldn't go beyond that, that was, until you kissed him. "I still don't know why you kissed me, though, ego stroking aside... Not that I don't enjoy it, I fucking do. But, if I'm honest... Part of me wonders if it's all leading up to me covered in pig's blood. Some payback for...being mean and scary."

"So... You think I'd fuck you...for a prank?" You took in a deep breath, raising your brows, "Wow, that's some dedication there... Because as you keep bringing up the fact that I kissed you, I also fucked you right after... And I don't care even if you were that big of an asshole and somehow deserving of a prank of Carrie proportions..." You shook your head, "I wouldn't do that for a prank. Goes without saying, I wouldn't do that to you, because," you cupped his cheek, smiling softly. "You're not mean and scary... You're kind of hot, actually..." A laugh shared between you two, as he raised his brows and pointed at himself, as if questioning, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. "Y e a h, you are. Ridiculously hot. It's very distracting, has been for a while even before I kissed you..."

"Y e a h ?" he asked, a shit eating grin on his face. Maybe he sort of believed it, recalling that odd time of sitting next to you in that damn class, so certain he'd be bored to tears, and then he wasn't. Not with you. Nothing was ever boring with you. His eyes glancing toward your lips, remembering that day, when you first pressed his lips to his — riding off his high after the campaign, after Hellfire, it wasn't his most sexiest moment, in his eyes. Which made the kiss so surprising, always being able to come up with some quip, some comeback or just be loud. But when you kissed him? Shit. All he could do was taste you, wanting more. Couldn't believe it. He still smiled when he sat at his throne and looked at the table, knowing with vivid detail how pretty you looked, cumming as he fucked you right on it. "Why'd you kiss me? I mean, I wasn't really...sexy right then... I don't think you're pranking me, anymore, I'm past that, but... I've been wondering. Stroke my ego for a bit."

"Oh... You were sexy then..." Laughing softly as you saw his confused face. "I'm serious. I was already...fucked over you, and you were..." You shook your head, "God, you don't even know. Eddie... I spent so much time around jocks, academics, party girls, all just making it their whole personality. It's their life and all they care about... Nothing else mattered, especially people. I'd be in a crowded room and they wouldn't care if I was in it. Even with Calvin, I just...didn't matter, y'know? All that time dating, he didn't know me. Just...this idea of me, I guess? He didn't care about knowing the person I was... Until I broke things off because I felt so lonely. There's no passion, no...joy, really. And even with sports, which, is the driving force in school, all they talk and care about, yet, I've never seen them as passionate as you were that day. No one's...genuine like you are." You watched as his eyes softened a bit at that, a ghost of a smile on his face. Had no one told him that? Were you the first? "And, again, you're not mean and scary. I've seen how your friends look at you. They'd follow you anywhere. No one mean and scary could bring that devotion. Loud? Yeah. Obnoxious? A good amount," he rolled his eyes at that, but both of you sharing a smile.

"You could even be annoying sometimes, but..." you continued, looking ino those deep brown eyes of his. "I'd take you over normal or, even the tall, dark, handsome type because those types are fucking boring and you are anything but boring. You talk, sometimes a lot, but at least you don't bottle things up like everyone else seems to do. Wanting to feel numb, playing their roles and settled to play them until the day they die. Without passion, without emotion, doing what they think is right for them, not what they want. I kissed you, and promptly fucked you, because you were different than anyone I had ever met. Very unique, very Eddie Munson and... I liked that the fact that I've never played the game didn't stop you from telling me every single moment of that campaign that day. Like you needed to explain it all to me. Like, you were excited and wanted to share that with someone you barely knew, it was..." You smiled wide, "It was very cute."

"Um," he interjected, holding up a finger, "I thought I was hot and sexy, I don't recall...cute being used to describe me, you're being very inconsistent, here, sweetheart."

A soft laugh breathed out as your hand on his cheek went to the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair. "Oh, but you're actually all three?" He gave a nod, facial shrug given as you moved closer. "And it's actually very unfair, making it hard being around you and not do this..." Smiling against his lips, feeling his grin against yours as you kissed him, feeling him pull you closer, once again feeling his tongue slide within your mouth with no resistance from you. The hand on his knee lingered, the taste of his cigarette greets you once again, fingers sliding along the denim, nails dragging against the fabric, slowly along his inner thigh.

You were playing a dangerous game the more you moved those fingers on him, his breath hitching, shiver running through him and an ache settled from his hardening cock. He should probably tell you to slow down, to get in the back of his van to continue, in his opinion, a pretty fucking perfect afternoon. All because, he figured out, you wanted to cheer him up. Because the thoughts of your former friends, former boyfriend got into his head... Your words playing in his head, now, the roll of your tongue against his taking his breath away. His hands finding the small of your back and pulling you closer. His previous thoughts of his van slowly melting away, pressing himself closer to you. Chasing the sweet taste of you.

He liked that out of the two, you were the one that initiated the love bites. Your teeth finding his bottom lip, applying just the right amount of pressure, sending a pleasant little shock wave through his body. A little moan as he shivered, grasping your hips tightly. Sucking in his bottom lip as it slipped from your grip, tasting the slightest hint of blood, feeling a throb of his cock, the lightest touch of your fingers grazing against the bulge through his jeans. "Shit," he whispered, bringing his lips across your jaw, seeing your eyes look down between you both, on your fingers teasing him. The pads of your fingertips sliding up and down the clothed length, feeling his body tensing, a groan bubbling at the depth of his throat. "You drive me crazy, princess," his voice soft, wet kisses pressed against your throat. You feel the warmth of his tongue as it slid out, closing his eyes as he felt your fingers copying the patterns he placed on your neck, a groan as the palm of your hand pressed against him. Rubbing lightly, yet with pressure. "Fuck, d'you know what you're doing to me right now?"

"Mmhm," you hummed, the fingers in his hair tightening slightly, as he growled and grazed his teeth against your neck. The feel of him pulse beneath your palm, keeping the slow pace but also taken by how hard he felt. Making your mouth water, an ache between your legs. "I do," your breath quickening, closing your eyes as your hand squeezed the bulge of his cock gently. The way he groaned made you squeeze your own thighs. You wanted to chalk it up to this thing between you being new and different, but the way he was able to arouse you so easily, to make you wet with a gentle gaze, touch, words whispered in your ear... That had to be something significant, right?

That, or maybe Eddie Munson just made you ridiculously horny.

Ever since you two had fucked that day after Hellfire, spread your legs so willingly for him on that damn table, a part of you was haunted by his cock. The feel of him, how hard and thick, the way it filled your mouth and cunt so differently yet so perfectly, it made you moan even now. Did Eddie know what he did to you? He holds you tighter, panting softly against your neck in a way that made you shudder. A whimper let out as his hand roamed up your back, his tongue finding your pulse, sucking wetly against it. The feel of his fingers glided over your shoulder, tugging the thin strap of the dress you wore — remember? You were expecting some warmth in the day. The dress was thin, flimsy at best, and perhaps more for his benefit, no bra underneath as he pulled the strap further, giving your neck a bite, making you squirm, a small whimper in your throat. You could feel his smile against your neck, moving toward your lips and melded into a kiss.

He knew you didn't wear a bra — selfishly it was the first thing he noticed when he saw you. The sudden cold weather making your tits hard, damn noticeable with that dress. Eddie prided in having so much self control not to latch on straight away, though that resistance was crumbling as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss to let out a hiss, feeling your hand on his cock more insistent, "Mmm, baby..." he muttered against your lips, watching with a delighted gaze as your fingers went to his belt. You were so determined, insistent, and it stroked his ego so good that you wanted him that much. He kissed you again, teeth at your bottom lip just as you had, helping you with the zipper. "D'you..." he breathed out, groaning, your hand slipping inside, the loss of a denim barrier and the much thinner fabric of his boxers felt amazing. "That's... F u c k," he was going to say something, suggest something... "Fuck, um, van? D'you..." His cock twitched, right under your grasp. "God, you're killing me..."

And your hand was demanding, palm stroking his length over his boxers. The sounds of his groans making the ache between your legs all the more unbearable. "No... Not the van... I want you right here..." you uttered as your hand slid underneath his boxers, the both of you letting out a gasp of breath as your hand wrapped around his hardened cock, the feel of it within your grasp so oddly comforting, actually craving it since the last time you had him. With his help he lowered his jeans slightly, just enough to free him completely.

The thought of you wanting him so eagerly, it was frying his brain a bit. "You sure? If someone... Mmm..." That wasn't fair, how your thumb played with the bead of precum at his tip, using it to rub against him, his hands laid flat on the grass, trying to will himself not to shudder. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he looked at you, biting his bottom lip. "Someone could see us, sweetheart..." Since when did he care? Well, not for himself. "Someone could see you..."

"I know." His face awash in lust and confusion, your face moving toward him, "I don't care," you tell him with a smile, sneaking in another kiss, as if you could ever get enough of them. Taking a deep breath, you squeeze his cock lightly, a small groan from his lips excited you, head filled with lust, with need. "I'm not a sweet girl, Eddie. I'm really not—"

"Yes, the fuck, you are," he uttered in a hiss, swallowing hard, his brown eyes darker to you. "You're my sweet girl..." The sound of it evoking a part of you from the depth of yourself, the way he said it, gave you the need to move your hand so painfully slowly, up and down his length. He let out a small whine, so discreet, so easily missed — but you heard it, from the back of his throat. Licking his lips, his hand grabbed you. "My sweet girl," he repeated, "Just mine," his words sounding distant, feeling himself get lost in your hand.

"I'm not innocent, though..."

That made him laugh, strained and out of breath, but laugh. "That you're not, sweetheart. No, that's what Cal and them think. Just sweet and innocent and should never, ever be around anyone like me," his voice laced with resentment, bitterness, a grin that matched it on his face. "I'm sorry, baby... I let them get to me." He let out a small groan, hips squirming underneath your touch, hand twisting as your rose it toward the tip and fuck, that felt good. "They don't see what I see..."

"What do you see?"

He hummed, pleasantly, fingers trailing up the hem of your dress, pushing it up your thighs, hips. "I see... A fire in you... Burning bright..." His words soft as he took your lips in another kiss, soft, sensual, open as you met his tongue once more. Never resisting. Always giving. A groan pushed into your mouth as his hand cupped your mound, long, thick fingers sliding back and forth against your covered folds. You were drenched, of course, to his utter fucking delight. Digits covered in the warmth sticky nature of your wet arousal, he sucked your bottom lip, teeth catching it, biting deep that you let out a whine. In your stroking of him, you felt the bead of moisture leak out of him more, felt the pulse and throb of him. Spreading it along his length, you needed to make your hand slick, wanting to slide your hand all the more easily.

As if he knew, as if he could read your mind, he broke the kiss and took your hand off his cock and spit into your palm. You couldn't help to watch in a sort of awe, it should disgust you, if it was anyone else, it would. But you couldn't help but think of Eddie doing exactly this, when you weren't together, and the thought of him thinking of you as he used his spit to his own cock, to jerk off... Thighs clenched together, feeling his hand guide yours right back to his length, moving your hand slowly up and down him, releasing small moans from his lips. Each sound sending a chill to run through you, warming and cooling you at the same time.

It didn't take long for him to lift his hand away, letting you take over as he closed his eyes and surrendered to the soft, and god, fluid feeling of your hand. You really didn't care if anyone were to walk by or see the two of you, because as your eyes took in the sight of Eddie's face then. The poke of his tongue between his lips, the slow rise of his chest, the concentrated, blissful look of his face as his jaw clenched and nostrils flared as his breath hitched and exhaled... You felt a sense of pride, knowing you were doing this to him, pleasing him in such a way. Your hand felt so smooth along his cock, squeezing gently, giving him a slightly tighter feel. His hand on your thigh tightening, fingers flexing the longer you went, you almost felt godly. You wondered if his rings would leave bruises on your thighs with how strong he was squeezing, you hoped they would.

"Should I be... Baby, you're too good at that..." his voice strained, his insides on fire, especially with your thumb swiping across the slit of his cock. "Making me... Fuck, wanna kick anyone's ass who you ever...touched like this... Oh, fuck," he ended as your palm twisted around the head, quick, fast, making him let out a whine. Pleasure almost overwhelming. He could feel it, the slow crawl toward the edge, gentle steps toward that blissful state that you've managed to bring him to over and over since the first time. You've shocked him, he'll admit that, a girl like you? Doing such filthy things, and not having to be coached, or taught, just simply let be? It was the hottest thing about you.

You feel him pulse in your hand, eyes watched as he leaked further, in your eyes, just for you. His words sweet in their own way, smiling softly as you take in the sight of his cock. Such a pretty one. Not that you had a lot to compare it to. "Well, thankfully your pretty hands can stay clean..." A tease in your voice as you moved closer, while his spit in your hand was...unexpectedly sweet and highly arousing, it wasn't quite enough as you gathered within your mouth and let it drool almost perfectly over the swollen head, your other hand swiping the remnants off your lips. You say his eyes, how wide they got, how dark the brown. He enjoyed that, which made you all the more wet. "You're really the first to really let me...show my skills like this. My other boyfriends...they never really let me play their cocks, so... No one else been touched by me like this."

That seemed...so insane to him. Eddie's brows furrowed, trying to comprehend what you just told him. Because there was no way... "Not once, not even... Fuck," the way your hand squeezed at his base, pressing against his stomach as your fingers went to caress his balls, using your spit to make them slick as well, and giving them attention, his hand turned into a fist with his nails digging into the flesh of his palm. "That... uh. Fuck. W h y ?"

You smirked, the flat of your palm moving toward his sacs, sliding up and down them. Slowly. Gently. "They thought I was a sweet girl..." The way he laughed, breathless and strained, brought a wicked smile to your face. "Even in the heat of the moment, they thought I was made a glass. Too pristine, too precious to get dirty." Your eyes looked toward his shaft, the way he was thick, veins so prominent, he was a good length too. Just slightly above average, not enough to scare someone, but enough to feel deep, deep enough to make you lose control hard and fast, and more than deep enough to gag. "I was too precious to have their cock in my throat, too...." Looking at him, your best attempt at doe eyes — not that you could compare with his — but it earned a chuckle from him, the hand on your thigh squeezing as he let out a groan.

"Princess..." He looked like he was struggling, trying to regain some sort of resolve, to hold back. The talk of being out here and getting caught, it was...definitely exciting and the fact that you weren't holding back... It was fine to indulge a bit, his plan was still to drag you into the back of his van at some point before things got too...intense. But the implications of your words struck him, the memory of your ex-boyfriend trying to rough him up with words and doubts on the two of you. It made him thoughtful, licking his lips before asking, "So... Not even with Cal?" Fingers stroking against the flesh of your inner thigh, sliding them over the fabric of your panties. "Never...sucked his cock, like at all?"

"Not even with Cal. He didn't think I was that type. And, honestly? I think, with Calvin... He was just embarrassed he wasn't as big and thick...as you are."

Ah, shit. You really knew how to work him, to stroke his pride and make him putty in your hands.That settled it. "What a fucking pussy. Get down here." The way you smiled then, eyes lighting up made his own do the same. Cupping your cheek, his fingers caressed your lips a moment, and you opened your mouth, making him shiver as two of his fingers slid inside that warm, wet mouth of yours. Shoving them deep, right where his rings touched against your lips. Your eyes soft, begging, the warmth of your tongue pressed against his fingers, it made him groan, sliding them in and out of you. There was a shiver that ran through you as well, a shock to your system that hit directly to your cunt, the ache growing. He pulled you to him, fingers leaving your mouth and lips crashing against his. The kiss hungry, gripping the back of your head, your hair, swallowing the whimper that flowed from you. How easily he could get you to whimper for him. To think your previous boyfriends wouldn't appreciate that? Wouldn't strive to make you moan and whimper like that on a daily basis? Fucking insane.

Crazier, still, was the confession that they wouldn't let you suck them off. That it was too dirty for you. The hand at the back of your head as his tongue roamed within your mouth, your taste so addicting and making his heart pitter patter and his cock twitch within your grasp still. Shit. His hand moved to grasp at your chin, reluctant but determined to give you what you wanted, pulling away and dazed brown eyes looked into yours, giving a soft peck at your cheek. He watched as your eyes closed, the way you adored his soft touches, the warmth of his breath as he exhaled against your cheek. You watched as he took another cautious look around, despite your words, not wanting to put you at a disadvantage of getting caught, still caring, still wanting the best for you, even if everyone else decided that didn't include Eddie Munson, the freak. You didn't see him that way, though. You were making that very clear to Eddie, to his utter fucking joy.

Licking your lips, the hunger gnawing at you from the inside, you placed your open palm at his stomach, pushing against him slightly. A prideful smile on his lips as he looked at you with adoration at you taking charge at the moment. Eddie leaned back, spreading his legs as you settled between them, lowering down on your stomach. Obliging as you tugged at his jeans, lowering them past his hips for better access. He watched you carefully, cock rigid, stiff, a light twitch as you still grasped him at his base, the head just an inch or so from your lips. It made you smile, of course, knowing he was eager for your mouth, he often always was, but to feel it so physically was something else altogether.

You take the moment to drink in the sight of his cock. It wasn't the first time you had seen it, of course, taking every opportunity you could manage. But you weren't bullshitting when you told him your past boyfriends thought appreciating their cocks like this was...not for you. Being far from a virgin, you've had sex before, as did Eddie, but never really taking the time to enjoy it. Always rushed, always something to get over with and taking you home or to the party, all to fall back on the image of being sweet and virginal, to lie. To play the part they so desperately wanted you to play. Far from it with Eddie, the first boy to not hold your wrists when you tried to undo his belt and simply allowed your hands to wander into his jeans. Always striving to be himself, he afforded you the same, in every aspect, he made you feel brave and accepting of yourself in ways no one else before him had.

That's what you loved about Eddie Munson, everyone calling him a freak for being himself. Maybe you were a freak, too, for loving that about him. And wanting a bit of that yourself. Indulging in these moments with him, seeing the beauty of his cock — and he had such a beautiful cock.

You squeezed him gently, and he let out a slow groan, mostly trapped at the back of his throat, but you heard it, still. He was thick, enough to give you a bit of a stretch when buried inside you, making sure that no one else would feel the same. Your fingertips glided along the underside of him, tracing along the veins, following toward his tip. They pulsed beneath your touch, his stomach rising and falling gently, your tongue, the tip of it, followed your fingertips' path, closing your eyes as the taste of his hardened flesh sparked to your senses. He had such a unique taste, you couldn't describe it, but it made you want more as your mouth slowly ascended to the heavy head, eyes opening to see the bead of precum, so pearly white and waiting.

His dark chocolate colored eyes met yours, looking at you so pleadingly. His eyes could make you do anything, he didn't even have to ask. But the words, "Please, baby..." came in just a gentle whisper, and before you knew it, your tongue swirled along the tip, taking the taste of him onto your tongue and you heard him let out a groan. A shiver running through him that made him utter your name as if a thankful prayer to God. "Thank you," he said, and without even putting thought to it, your lips wrapped around him, his body shivering, a warmth running through him and a shaky breath shot out his lips. Tilting his head back, the feel of your mouth hot, wet, sucking him so greedily it made his head spin. "Baby... Sweetheart... F u c k."

"Mmm..." His taste grabbed at you, consuming you into wanting more. You love the way he felt, even just his head, inside your mouth. Loved the way he seemed so lost when wrapped around your mouth. Your name never sounded so ethereal than when he moaned it out like that. Mouth watering, a hand grasping at his thigh as you worked to get more of him inside you. Slowly at first, moving up and down, feeling the way he throbbed and hearing a curse from his lips. He felt heavy on your tongue, pressing the flat of it against the underside of him. Each time moving down, taking an inch here, there, not minding to gag, but you wanted to savor it. Eddie often worried if you gagged too much, tempted to pull you off, but not wanting that now. Wanting to show how good you could be for him. Feeling your mouth dripping onto him, trails of wetness sliding down his length, your mouth feeling full, yet not quite there, yet.

His hands came to your head, fingers brushing through your hair and holding them tight at the back of your head. Out of the way, for your comfort and selfishly, to see the sight of his cock slowly filling your mouth. "Jesus Christ..." he groaned, his eyes half lidded, wanting to close, begging close with how good it felt, your determination to take all of him so fucking adorable to him. Your little moans when you go down making him twitch inside you, letting out a soft hiss the more you take him, the tighter you feel. Making him want your pussy, to buried deep inside, to make you feel as good as you were making him feel... But then he catches how you squeeze your thighs together, and it makes him smile. "You're doing... Ah, fuck, so good for me, Princess... You won't stop, will you? Not until... Shit, not until..."

His words unfinished as you couldn't help but quicken your movements, lust clouding every movement and decision. You wanted more of him so you were going to get more of him. Feeling your cunt wet, walls squeezing around nothing and wishing he was inside you, squeezing your thighs together instead, moaning around his cock as his tip drew closer and closer to the back of your throat. Every throb of him was encouraging, loving how he felt so alive inside you. Such a wet mess, feeling your mouth water and drenching his length, moving your head faster, the more you could hear it, but you didn't care. Not when you were so close, because he was right, you wouldn't stop, not until — and you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as you felt the moment hit, just as the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you stilled. And he gave a strained cry, not seeing how he closed his eyes and cursed into the air. But you moaned, feeling your throat constrict around him, gagging, so obscenely, but not caring.

"Baby, baby, you did it, you did it, fuck, you did it," his words rushed and feverish. The sounds you made driving him crazy, enough to buck his hips, fucking into your mouth. Forcing his eyes to open, staring at you with a soft little whine, seeing you start to move your head again, bobbing up and down his cock and filling your mouth over and over, groaning deep as he hit the back of your throat again and again, the wet sound filling his ears. "...open, open your eyes, please, please, open... There you are," he smiled, a soft little laugh escaping him as your eyes opened, "My sweet fucking girl..." His other hand grasped at your cheek, shaking his head as he saw your eyes almost close again, "No, no, no, don't..." Another hiss coming from him, continuing to meet your mouth with his thrusts, a gag from you squeezing him just right that had him throbbing, a sharp shiver run through him. "Keep your eyes on me, alright? Yeah?" You nodded, prompting him to let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Good girl..."

God, you wished he hadn't demanded you keep your eyes open, because the sound of that, of him calling you that, made you want to close your eyes as you let out a deep seated moan, vibrations of your mouth cascading over his cock. His lips parted as panted breaths huffed their way out of him, but eyes were on each other, sinking your mouth down onto him. His hand moved from your cheek then, grasping lightly around your throat and you really wished you could close your eyes, then. His finger and thumb squeezed along the sides of your neck and sending you into a dizzying spiral that sent your movements into overdrive, the hand at his base lowered, grasping at his balls, rubbing and giving them attention as you felt yourself choking on his cock. You were wet, soaking, aching between your legs. Your eyes glistening and hand splayed at his stomach, scratching along his happy trail, but looking at him.

With the work of your hand earlier and now, the work of your mouth? You were wrecking Eddie in a way only you could. His cock couldn't sit still, twitching, pulsing so deep into your mouth. His chest heaving, feeling his stomach clenching, a fire slowly building toward a white hot burning he didn't know whether to stay away to make it last or just run toward it. "Jesus fuck, you feel so..." He should probably say something sexy, or... Withholding? Something... Oh, the fuck he knew. "Oh, baby you feel so good... You're doing so —" A withering moan leaving him, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes, a deep shudder running through his body, tensing, he was close.

As if you sensed it, you lifted your mouth off him with the loudest sounding pop either of you had heard, and to your delight, a thick thread of spit connected your mouth to his cock, watching as the heavy flesh fell on his stomach and he gave a relieved groan. "Thank you, thank you," he muttered softly, squeezing his fingers around your hair. Sliding your tongue along his underside, he was cursing once more as you only moved your lips to his sack, taking it into your mouth and sucking him hard that made his body jerk toward you. An out of breath laugh escaping him, licking his lips, opening his eyes to look at you. "I'm serious, if you did this with anyone else.... I wanna fight them. I'd lose, but sweetheart..." Oh, your hand was stroking him again, a wrangled cry leaving him, lips trembling, that fire burning him from the inside, the faster your hand went, feeling the pulse of his cock in his ears. "I'm gonna fight 'em, I'm gonna.... Every fucking one. Every... Jesus H. Christ, you just.... Just gotta, mm," how did his hips started jerking to your hand? The fuck he knew, but it felt good. "...gotta....gotta take came of me after... Please, please, please, please."

Letting your mouth release him, your hand moving to his waist, lips stretched in a smile as they ghosted over his cock, lapping against the ridge of his cock before sucking him gently along the swollen head. The sounds of his moans encourage you to stroke your hand up and down the throbbing length, taking his head in and out of your hungry mouth. You're ravenous with him, insatiable, even. You can't get enough, sometimes not even at school and you have to beg him to take you to the back of his van. He always gives in, now that he thinks about it, in between the mercy of your lips, your tongue, your mouth descending on him once more. Fuck, he felt so good so deep in your mouth, your throat, hand squeezing at his balls. Rubbing against him, making him shut his eyes. "F u c k !" he cried out, wavering, panting.

You weren't going to let up, the both of you realized, it wasn't a conscious decision on your part and all Eddie could do was take it, enjoy it, fall deeper and deeper into the fucking bliss of you. You were moaning, your eyes closed as you fell into the rhythm of sucking him off, fucking your throat on his cock, you had meant what you said — you weren't innocent. Not how they all viewed you as. "Oh, baby," his words slurring out, jaw tightened and teeth grit together as he seethed. Your name flew from his lips like a prayer — for his sanity. He was throbbing so much in your mouth... Hitting the back of your throat so perfectly, his hips started to jerk towards you. "Fuck, fuck fuck, you're so fucking perfect." His grip on your hair so tight, taking the hint, stilling your movements as his hips took over, bucking into your mouth. Gagging on him with every fierce thrust. Your nails digging into his stomach, making their mark and a strangled moan ripped out of him. "—so perfect. Like this... Like this, so... So fucking... Jesus fucking...Christ, I'm... You're just... Fuck, that's..."

His hips picking up speed, harder and harder as you looked over at him. At his face, seeing the sweat, the concentrated look on him. He looked beautiful like that, lost in the pleasure and it made your cunt throb knowing it was because of you. Making you moan louder, the sound of spit drenching his cock hitting your ears, dripping, chin slick. Always having to be perfect, hair just right, make up perfect, it felt so liberating to let go, to be a mess, and Eddie was the one that let you do so. You wanted him to cum, you wanted him to cum so badly...

And with one strangled moan from him, one hard thrust that filled your mouth to the brim, he did. Followed by another, and another, every moan louder, every thrust harder, his body tensing so much, feeling his insides on fire and his cock? Fuck. White hot pleasure, making him whine, even whimper. You felt so good, so fucking good, and he was sure he said so, in a rush of praises that fell from his lips, all words slurring together like he was drunk. And in a way, he was. Of you, and only you. Cock pulsing, twitching as the tip was just inside your throat, you felt his hand around your neck again. A light little squeeze as your eyes looked up, he was lost, of course, eyes closed but you still didn't take your eyes away. He felt thick and warm, erupting in shuddering waves right to your throat that you swallowed immediately. Loving how it felt, sliding down your throat. He was the one to cum, and so much, but you were the one that couldn't help but moan, feeling your cunt throb and clench, moving your head up and down slowly.

His words had died and he was left moaning, twitching inside your mouth, every movement, he felt himself spilling so fiercely. You loved it, loved it every time and that in itself made him groan as dark brown eyes looked down on you. ".....princess," he uttered so out of breath, you only moaned, sucking at his tip and hand twisted up and down the slick shaft, working him through his climax, hips jerking toward your mouth once more in short little movements. Sensitivity playing its part, it felt good, feeling you so desperate for every drop of him. There were moments where you genuinely craved the taste of him, something so unique. He tasted bitter, at first, but after a while, there was a sweetness to him as well, growing such an appreciation for both you could never really get enough, only when you felt him shake harder than before did you lift your head away, lips leaving him with a wet pop once more and let go, watching as his heavy, thick length fell onto his stomach, pulsing, twitching right there.

You swallowed the remains of him, sticking out your tongue to show him, both chuckling out of breath as you give the underside of his cock one last kiss. "Come here..." he whispered, still feeling the burn course through him, the fire you caused still wrecking havoc through him. You obeyed, of course, moving up on him and lips immediately on one another. His hand was still at your neck, and he squeezed gently once more, a joined moan from you both, shared between panting mouths and another from him as he tasted himself off your tongue. You were a mess, his tongue sliding from your mouth to across your lips, licking the spit that adorned your chin, jaw, nipping the skin gently.

"You don't have to fight anyone, you know..." you uttered softly. Watching as he pulled back, looking quizzically at you, you smiled. "No one else... I mean, when it comes to sucking someone off, you're... You're kind of the first. So, you're the only one that's experienced what my mouth could do like that."

The way his smile widened shouldn't be as cute as it was, the way his eyes lit up, "Shit. Really? Fuck. I mean, that's sad, sweetheart, because that?" He shook his head, kissing you deep, "Fuck," he muttered against your lips, his hand at your throat lowering, sliding over your breasts, towards your stomach and hips. Hiking your dress up above your hips, "Did I taste good?"

"Mmhm," you let out softly, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver against your heated skin as his hand slid along your inner thigh. "You always taste good to me."

"Yeah?" his breath heavy, turning to kiss at your neck. "You're always so eager... I bet you're wet, huh? Aching? First pretty girl I've met to get turned on sucking my cock, princess." And as he moved his hand between your legs, he chuckled softly, grinning against your flesh as you let out a soft moan, his fingers finding the wet spot of the panties you wore and he let out a hiss. "Oh, baby, you're soaked... Jesus fucking christ, that's hot. All for me?" He didn't need an answer, palming his hand against your soaked, clothed cunt. "Yeah, all for me." Your hips started to move against his hand, making him groan as he stilled it, letting you grind against it, feeling his hand grow slick, your soft little moans making him fucking feral.

You knew it made you look desperate, shameless, even. But Eddie never made you feel embarrassed for wanting him, being desperate for him to make you cum. He seemed to thrive on it, just like making him cum did for you. Making you want to try different things, be adventurous when it came to sex. You never felt ashamed for wanting to cum, for having that need, and you fucking loved him for it. You felt him kiss your neck more, his other hand holding you around your waist, wet, sloppy kisses that only made you more needy for him. He was right — blowing him had the effect of making your cunt soppy and so heated, the first few times you thought it was a bad thing. That there was something wrong with being so turned on pleasing someone else. But every moan he gave, every slurred word, it hit you right at your core and your body was helpless.

But he made you see it as a turn on for him as well, making him feel needed, that you enjoyed making him cum that much. Then you started to enjoy it, any ounce of shame evaporated each time you were together. His lips found their way to yours again, cupping his cheek as you kissed him, swallowing his groan, he was so vocal after he came and that was definitely part of why you liked making him cum. More affectionate, feeling the flat of his palm stroke your back. His hand, still between your legs moved, making him swallow your protesting whimper. He breathed a chuckle into your mouth, giving you one more full formed kiss before pulling back and fingers grasped the waistband of your panties, starting to tug them down.

"Mmm—"

"—hmm?"

A soft chuckle coming out of you, seeing his teasing grin, "I thought you were worried about us getting caught, out here in the open?" You saw as he bit his lip, his eyes a bit darker than they were before. "Or, does that only apply to me?"

Eddie let out a soft groan, pecking at your lips with gentle kisses, "'Course not. I still worry about you getting caught. But," he let out a sigh, his fingers continuing to pull your panties lower, as best as he could. "Sweetheart, that was before you made me cum in your mouth," his teeth flashing with his grin. Growing wider at the sound of your laughing, chuckling himself as you buried your face at the crook of his neck. Humming softly as he kissed your shoulder. "I just —" He took in a deep breath, "—I'm nice and relaxed now to worry too much about it?" Pulling back as you looked up at him with the prettiest smile he's seen so far. "Yeah, I don't want you seen or walked in on or get in trouble, not so much me, they expect it from me, but you, no, absolutely not."

"I think I've proven that I'm not the sweet, innocent girl people think I am, though..." You remind him, feeling fit to remind him again and again if that's what it took — and yes, out of your own pleasure as well.

The laugh he gave was deep, his eyes warm, raising his thumb to brush against your swollen bottom lip. "Oh, sweetheart, you did." Nodding with his brows raised, he repeated, "You did. But, I still don't want your pretty wrists in handcuffs, well, okay, handcuffs not by my hand, or dragging me off you because I would fight if it meant holding onto you a bit longer." You hummed, smiling as he pressed his lips against yours in yet another kiss — as if he could ever stop. "But saying that..." A deep breath taken, dark brown eyes looking to you. "...I'm feeling...a bit adventurous. You're making me want to take all sorts of risks, princess..."

It was too good, grinning up at him, you couldn't help it. "Am I ruining you?"

That grin hadn't left him, white teeth a permanent fixture on him at that moment. "Y e a h, God, y e a h," he chuckled, kissing your lips hard, letting out a breath hot against your lips. "You're such a bad influence... You're ruining the fuck outta me. So mean and scary... I'm very into that..."

"Mmm, what a sweet boy you are..." your teasing words said with a caress of his lips against yours. Hearing him hum, it almost sounding like a whine made your heart flutter. His fingers tighten around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slightly but not enough, not without your assisting him with it. "And...what risks did you wanna take now, pretty boy?" Wanting to hear him say it, needing to hear him say it...

He knew you needed to hear it, too. Letting out a soft growl, eyes darkened, smile stretched and turned wicked. His hand finally pushed your panties as far as he could manage, needing you to do away with them the rest of the way. That was the word, he needed it. Licking his lips, teeth biting his bottom lip for good measure, he gave such a wolfish smile. "You... On my face. Letting me taste and feel how messy you are, just because you love my cock, sweetheart." He moved back, laying further on the ground while his eyes didn't leave yours. Seeing your eyes darken and how hard you swallowed. Your body growing tense, and he swore, he could feel you grow hot. "And yeah, out here in the open, where anyone could walk by and see, and hear us. Making me forget and not care about the consequences of that... But I need it. I need you."

Every word he uttered, your eyes couldn't help but fall on his lips as he spoke, the sound of his voice traveling through you, hitting between your legs and making you throb. You nod, the words, I need you, too, just at the tip of your tongue but failed to slip off and into the air. Instead, it was said with the fierce kiss you laid on his lips, feeling a shudder run through you both. The slight feel of his cock, giving a twitch against your hip. He let out a groan as you pulled away, continuing where he left off. Feeling how wet you truly were, the fabric clinging to your soaked folds as you pulled them away, smiling over at him, knowing he would have enjoyed seeing it with his own eyes and in full view. But, you supposed, draping them over his cock would be the next best thing. Evident by the way he twitched under it once more, shared smiles between you both.

"C'mere...." he nearly whispered, watching as you moved toward him. The thin strap of your dress slid down your shoulder, reminding him that you had no bra underneath, that the dress was all that covered you and that was something he'd keep in mind. But, for now, as you moved toward him, taking care to not let your knees rest on his hair, pulling it back with one hand as your other hiked up your dress. His eyes almost twinkling at the sight of your bare cunt, a proud little hum flowing through him as his hands smoothed over your inner thighs. "F u c k," his words in a hushed whisper, as if more to himself than to you. His lips twitching in a smile, you can feel the fluttering in your stomach because of it, because he has that smile because of you. His tongue swiped across his lips, eyes still drinking you in. "Can't believe you get this wet for me, princess..." The way you glistened, he hadn't even touched you, no, this was because you were getting him off and that brought out a smile out of him. His fingers inching toward you, feeling you shudder under his touch. The drag of the metal rings against your skin, feeling yourself growing hot. You needed him. You needed him.

His fingers were mere inches from your folds, yet still, he looked up at you, brows furrowing, and you knew he was asking permission. You nodded, slowly, biting your lip and preparing yourself for his touch. It comes slow, at first. Delicate little traces along your folds, toying with the wetness, swallowing hard as fingers move back and forth, dipping along the wet flesh, drenching his fingertips in your heated mess. His eyes mesmerized by it, the feel of you shooting right through him and to his cock. Pulsing. Twitching. As if to thank you, he moves to kiss your hip, biting you gently there that makes you gasp softly. It made him smile, fingers now slick moving toward your clit. Slowly. Gently. Two fingers sliding over, making your hips jerk immediately with a soft sound from your lips.

You were so cute, he thought. Grinning against your hip, still, swirling those fingers against you, smooth circles, you felt like silk underneath his calloused fingers. Sending sharp shivers through you, closing your eyes as your breathing hitched, his tongue licking against the flesh of your hip now, his hot breath followed as he continued his ministrations. His fingers drove you crazy, yours were too soft, as were your past boyfriends, so soft, but his were rough, not clumsy, but skilled, playing you as he did his guitar. The feel of his teeth added to it, as he bit you with a groan. Your breath panting, hips moving so gently against his fingers, his movements slow, making you want more. As if he sensed it, his fingers started to pick up. Not too much, sliding back and forth, your slick helping in the smooth motions as he kissed your hip more, letting his lips glide against your skin, toward your stomach. Hearing your soft panting pick up as well, a soft groan against your stomach now. He loved to hear your moans... —

"E d d i e," you let out, in a warning or plea, you honestly weren't sure. But he smiled against your stomach either way, the soft breath of his chuckle hitting you, lifting his eyes to see that pout on your face. Adorable. Biting at your skin, feeling you shudder in his embrace as his hand moved. Slick fingers gliding from your clit and through your folds, a deep hum vibrating against your stomach. You could feel your walls clench in anticipation, your teeth biting your bottom lip and eyes closed. His fingers finding your opening, sinking them into you — slowly, as a growl settled from his lips — "Ah..." the word came from your lips, delicate, uneven. Feeling the stretch of his thick fingers, as if your cunt as impatient as you were getting, drawing his fingers deeper. "Shit..."

"Jesus fucking Christ..." the words said with a deep chuckle, almost dark, just as was the shade of his brown eyes as he looked up at you, a lustful gaze burning just for you. Gazes connect, though it was growing difficult, keeping your eyes on him as he dragged his fingers in and out of you. Walls clenched around him so tightly, as if embracing him. As if it hadn't been only a day since he filled you with his fingers and cock. Every gentle thrust sending a wave through you, a panting breath, a soft little moan. He was going to be hard for you, again, he knew, though he wanted to take his sweet time. Draw out the orgasm from you slowly, or until he lost control like he so often did. With a groan, he laid his head back, drawing your hips a bit closer, darkened eyes looking down your body, right where his fingers disappeared inside you. Cock twitching, pulsing to life. You shouldn't affect him like this, but you do, seeing how your stomach clenched the deeper his fingers went, burying them knuckle deep and curving them.

There was a low rumble, though it felt distant to you both. His eyes transfixed by your cunt, feeling you so tight around him, how wet and heated, tongue poking out, licking his bottom lip. You wished you could take your dress off, the feel of him inside you making your skin heat up, chest heaving with quickened breath. Pleasure, the kind only he brought out, swept right through you, getting lost in it so much that the thought of someone seeing you just slipped away from you. Your own hand moving forward, grasping his curls at the top of his head and clutched tightly. Just to have something to anchor you to reality, feeling you'd float away as his fingers continued to stroke themselves along your clenched walls, your moans a little louder each time, entangled with your panting breath. If your eyes were open, you'd see a flash of white light, though all you could hear was the sound of your sopping cunt drench his fingers, a smile on your face as a soft cry escaped you, body shaking at the feel of his calloused thumb swipe across your clit, bending forward as he kept doing it. "F u c k, Eddie..."

You couldn't see how he smiled, a mix of awe and wickedness. Dark brown eyes trained on your cunt, seeing his fingers at work. You really were...so beautiful like this. Every sound you make made his heart swell with pride. Calvin couldn't do this. According to you, that meathead wouldn't dare. He curved his fingers inside you more, looking for that spot, that precious that made you — There it was, your cries louder and your fingers pulled at his hair that made him groan in appreciation. "Shit!," you cried out, red hot, feeling your body pulse, thighs beginning to shake, and he only pressed and rubbed against it more, your jaw tensed, "Oh God, that... Shit.." You both could hear the wet friction of his movements. "That's...." Your words halted as his thumb picked up speed against your clit, movements quick, and wet, so fucking wet and the most primal sounds poured out of your lips. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, don't..."

"I won't stop, sweetheart..." came his voice, to your utter relief. You nodded, feeling his hand at the back of your hips, pulling you closer. Looking at you like this, moaning and wet around his fingers, the feel of you so tight around him the deeper he was inside you. The moans spilling from your lips weren't the only primal thing between you, his mind going hazy, the need for your taste growing until he brought you close enough to slip his fingers out of you, growling at the feel of your cunt so reluctant to feel him go, clinging to him to the last second. "I know, baby, I know, but I just gotta..." he groaned, hands splayed at your thighs and with encouragement, pressed the sweet, messy cunt against his mouth. Hearing your shaky breath, he hummed, first kissing your clit and tongue slid out, the flat of it sliding across it. His fingers tightening along your flesh, a gasp from your lips. He moaned, breathing heavy against you, the tip of his tongue circling along your clit, then, encouraging you to move, allowing his tongue to move between your folds, taste some of the mess that he caused. And it was the sweetest mess he's tasted of you so far.

You've never had someone so eager to taste you like this, it made sense, since you were always so eager to use your mouth on him. It was a delightful give and take between the two of you, and now he was certainly taking. You closed your eyes to the darkening sky, ignored the shiver of the cold, how could you take notice when his tongue trailed closer towards your hole, pulling you closer upon his face and you felt the tip of his nose nudge against your clit as the tip of his tongue push into you. A shaky breath seeped from you, causing your hips to rock gently against him, pushing him further inside. Feeling his tongue stiffen, the vibration of his moan traveling up against you. Every gentle rock of your hips has his nose moving against your clit, bring about gentle waves of pleasure to course through you, making you feel heat, warming you to the touch.

Eddie did like you like this, coherent thought leaving your head and only to react to what his actions were doing to you. He was the same, and fuck, you tasted sweeter the deeper his tongue was inside you. His name kept falling from your lips, strained, each time causing his cock to throb and a moan pressed against your pretty little cunt. He's admit, he'd not had a lot of experience, not a lot of girls, at the very least to the point of maybe having to exaggerate here and there with his friends, but your pussy? Your cunt? The prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen, shivers running up and down his spine as you rocked it against his tongue, his mouth, your fingers in his hair, pulling slightly made him groan. Gripping you tightly as he slid his tongue in and out of you just a little faster. So soft and wet, tasting you, fuck, how sweet you were.

You were driving him crazy, and he was doing the same to you. Pleasure gripping at you, tightly, clawing at your insides as you started to pant and moan. He was reluctant to pull away, a small cry leaving your lips, desperate for more, but it was short lived as his tongue trailed to your clit once more. Lapping against it, flickering over it quickly and another cry left your lips — this time of relief. "Jesus fuck—" tumbled from your lips, his dark eyes on you as your eyes were closed, forgetting the world, just him, just his tongue, and as the cold metal of his rings traveled further up your thighs and you felt yourself tensing with anticipation.

He didn't make you wait long, you were so wet, so slick, there was hardly any resistance when he buried two of his thick fingers inside you. "God, f u c k, yes..." you panted out, thighs quivering as he curled his fingers as his mouth captured and sucked sloppily on your clit, reaching, caressing that special spot that made your hips jerk forward, a cry erupting from your lips. Feeling his ringed fingers inside you, slowly sliding in and out of you, your wetness claiming them and the pressure on your clit as he sucked grew stronger. "Fuck... F u c k, Eddie, Eddie..." your voice whined, as he moaned, his other hand moving, smacking against the flesh of your ass and gripped you there. Nodding wordlessly as he let go of your clit, stiffened his tongue against it, and you slowly started to move your hips again. His fingers stilled as well, sliding in and out of you through your movements alone, moving deeper, faster as your moans fell from your lips at the feeling of him deep inside you, angling to hit you there, rubbing your clit against his tongue as well. Fucking yourself on him, showing him how desperate you were becoming, just for him. You both loved that.

He wished he could grip himself, stroke his cock to you, but his eyes were hazy, watching your face as you moved, led by desire and lust. You were so fucking perfect, he moaned against your cunt, once in a while flicking his tongue over that bundle of nerves, feeling it pulse against him. Curling his fingers a bit more, stroking the insides of your walls clenching around his digits so tightly. "Such a perfect fucking pussy..." he breathed hotly against you, moaning as he sucked and sucked, feeling you tremble at his words. His girl loved to be praised, he thought with a smile. "Don't hold back, baby..." he breathed, taking a moment to raise his mouth at your hip, biting hard at the flesh, hoping to leaving a mark, praying to leave a mark. "I want you to cum, I want you to cum so bad."

You were close, especially as his other hand slid forward and gave attention to your clit, "Oh, fuck," you practically growled, not only feeling his fingers inside you, but not to your throbbing clit, the joint pleasure of it, concentrating on moving against his fingers inside you, body trembling as he added a third finger, you were sure you were going to come undone. Body tightly wound, succumbing to the waves he was giving you, this time, you did hear the thunder, eyes opening wide as you caught a flash of light hit across the sky. "Shit," you let out, jaw slack as his fingers picked up, thrusting in and out of you harder, making you gasp and pant. "N—oh, fuck, Eddie... Shit... Fuck," moans strangled within a laugh you wanted to let go. "It's...." Words were failing you, grasping at the back of his head, for a moment only hearing your own wetness ring out, coating his fingers, "Ed—Eddie, it's... Jesus fuck, that feels..."

He was lost in it, as were you, the sounds of your cries seeping from your lips so seamlessly, one after the other, was his only concern, even with the first few raindrops. You didn't feel the cold, just the white hot heat that was coursing through you, eyes closing once more, body stilling and growing tense. "Yes, yes, fucking christ," the rain was gentle at first, a light drizzle, easy to ignore. At first, anyway. But his fingers continued, his teeth biting at your hip getting harder, a fine mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through you, making you let out a loud whimper. Your fingers squeeze along his hair tighter, as his lips trail back to your clit, steadily flicking his tongue over it, humming deep against you. Giving you the jolt of pleasure you apparently needed, your hips moving, soon enough riding his tongue as he kept it still.

The rain started to pick up, raining down harder the more deep into it the two of you became, closer to unraveling you were. Dripping over his mouth, his fingers, feeling his free hand stroking the bare flesh of your ass. You could feel your hair and that dress getting wet, starting to weigh you down, a shiver running through you but not knowing if it was because of the rain or Eddie's tongue, or the way his finger curled and hit you just right, making you shut your eyes and let out a cry. Your body shuddered, feeling cold and hot at the same time. Did he know it was raining? He didn't let up. You could hear him moaning, stilling your hips as his lips wrapped around your clit and sucked hard and unforgiving, bringing out the most primal sounds from your lips. The sound of thunder drowning it out for the most part, gripping his hair, an attempt to pull him away. "Eddie... Eddie, the rain, I... Shit... The rain..."

But you only felt the clap of his hand against your ass, hard, a warning, letting out a gasp as you looked down. Dark brown eyes staring up at you. A whine left you, as he furrowed his brow. Understood, biting your lip and you give a nod. Starting to let go, his hands gripped where he held you, tongue flickering against you, catching your taste as you moaned helplessly. Breathless. Louder. Your walls clenching around his fingers as he buried them deep. That little spot. That perfect little spot. "Oh, god, oh...fuck, yes, right there..." Each breath you let out sounding shaky, him growling, feeling your thighs start to shake. That was the only movement he let you have, kissing against your clit sloppily. The pads of his fingertips stroking along that spot, feeling your body tense up each time, stilling your hips as it wanted to jolt at every stroke.

He knew it was raining, he did, it was hard not to. But was harder was for him to stop, his mind a haze with every sound of your moan. Every squeeze of his fingers, every taste his tongue could find. He was going to make you cum.

He was going to make you cum.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you groaned, panting for breath in the heavy rain, it pouring down at the both of you. Some of the rain dropped onto your tongue, crisp and clear, yet you could still hear yourself, even with the thunder, the flash of lightning behind your closed eyes. How wet you were for him, as he pumped his fingers harder into you, stroking his fingers inside you, harder and harder, tongue matching the pace as good as he could. The vibrations of his groans, hums, making you a moaning mess, crying out with every release of your breath. "There, there, there, fuck, you shouldn't be so good at that, you should be so good—shit, shit, there, fuck, yes—!" You couldn't help it, feeling yourself bend forward, over his head and grasping at the wet grass. You were cumming. Words escaping you, sneaking up on you so suddenly, not able to tell him, but fuck if he knew.

Thrusting his fingers faster, making you scream into the wet ground, your lips finding the top of your wrist and biting down. The build up so sweet, so painful, so needed, when you came it was hard and fast, a whimpering cry coming from you, your walls squeezing around his fingers thrust so deep inside you, as if embracing him in thanks. He groaned, kissing your clit, your inner thigh and biting you there, making your hips jolt slightly. "Good girl," he let out, making you want to cry. "You're such a fucking good girl, princess..." You hissed softly, whining when you felt his fingers stroke you still, but gently, slowly, working you until you could gather yourself, your body spent but still eager for more, moving against him until he slowly withdrew them.

He gave your hip a gentle kiss before slipping out from behind you, letting you lay in your stomach a moment. Your mind was in a wet haze, the cold water raining down making you shiver against your heated body. He stayed close, one hand stroking your ass while the other reached toward your face, still slick and coated with your sweetness, it didn't take much from you to wrap your lips around them, greedily, deep into your mouth, humming at the taste of yourself on them — mixed with the rain. It made him smile, nice and wide as he bent over and kissed the crook of your neck. "God, that's my girl," he muttered against your ear, you letting out a hum. Still blissed out, but responsive. His now free hand grasping your hip, bare and wet, you both were at this point. Squeezing your hip, he kissed below your ear, looking at the van. "We can get back at the van. I got blankets, we can—" But you let out a huff, turning around and capturing his lips in a kiss that took his breath away. "Baby..."

It wasn't smart, or logical, his proposition was actually kind of nice. You knew he had a mattress as well, for when he wanted to be alone, and recently, those included being alone with you. But the adrenaline was still coursing through you, still feeling good because of him. "Fuck me..." you whispered against his lips, and he growled, his grip on you tightening. His cock hard from watching you come undone just mere moments before. You could still feel your clit pulsing, a bit of sensitivity to be had. But you didn't care. You wanted him. Needed him. "Right here... Fuck me..."

Jesus Christ.

He should say no, that it was still risky, but that same adrenaline that ran through you was running through him. "My princess wants to get fucked in the rain?" You had nodded, pulling him in for another kiss, returning it in full. Shit. It was something he hadn't done before, in the rain, out in public. It was....enticing enough, but now, he just needed to be inside you. Feel you close, make you feel good. His mind a mess, as he was sure yours was too, he ended the kiss, trailing his lips over the curve of your neck, fingers raised to pull down the straps of your dress. You didn't have a bra. He remembered that, watching as you lifted yourself and your dress peeled down your body, turning to face him and watched as your breasts came into view. "Jesus...fucking... Christ," he growled, watching in time as your lips came to his again.

You felt cold, yet it was his warmth that sustained you, the wet fabric of your dress around your waist, settling yourself between his legs as he sat on the ground. You were tired before, the strength of your climax taking a lot out of you. But the thought of him inside you drove you forward, tongue sliding into his waiting mouth as you settled onto him. His hands reaching toward your hips, resting at the back of your thighs. Gripping you tightly, his hum swallowed by you in your kiss. He pulled your hips forward, the slick of your folds sliding along the underside of his hardened cock, resting against his stomach, brought a gasp from you both. You felt warm, heated and wet, even as the cold rain poured down on you both. You could feel the veins of his cock just slightly, as one movement of your hips turned to another, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping him tightly. You had no business feeling this good, he thought. Making him groan and grunt as his hands were no longer needed, sliding them away from you as your hips continued, your folds parted and grinding against his cock.

It was a teasing movement, but he just couldn't stop, not yet, as heated breaths were shared between you two. He felt so good, too. You pressed down against him, movements first short and teasing, now longer, languid in their movements, a jolt of pleasure shooting through you as the head of his cock met and rubbed against your clit. He liked how you shuddered each time, how soft your moan was against his lips, soft and needy, making his heart race. His hands gripping at the grass below him, leaning back slightly and letting you take over. "You're like a fucking Angel, Sweetheart," he muttered, a soft whine from your lips following, as you went faster. It was his turn to shudder, falling deeper into what you were doing to him.

With the rain, it was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, for the both of you, leading one another with touch alone. The throb of his cock meeting the throb of your clit, you let out a soft whimper, feeling your pussy ache, walls clenching around nothing. He felt good, clit pulsing and sending shocks of pleasure through you... But it wasn't enough. Your hands raising from his shoulders to the back of his neck, tangling fingers into his hair as you kissed him deep, a joined moan between you. "I need you inside me, baby..." you whined against his mouth, a whimper coming from him. "Please? Please, Eddie, baby, please..."

A soft chuckle rolls out from him, "Fuck, love it when you call me baby like that..." How could he refuse? Releasing his grip on the grass, hands dirty as he moved over to your body, wet and slick with the rain, turning his lips to the side of your neck, giving a hard bite and a kiss. Your lips by his ear, humming as you let out a groan at the bite, his hands just touching your skin, feeling oddly warm against his touch. "Tell me you want it, princess... Tell me how bad you want it..."

You hissed, desperate, pleading, trying to move your hips but his hands gripped them suddenly, making you still. A pitiful sound coming out of you, chest rising and falling in short huffs. "I want it..." He tutted, and you knew that wasn't good enough, squirming in his grip. "...I want your cock, Eddie..." He took a deep breath, and you knew that was better. "I want your cock so bad inside me... Deep..." He let out a soft moan, kissing your neck again, making you shiver. "I want it so deep it hurts. Cunt aching for you... I need you. I want you."

Your words were sweet to his ears, enough for his cock to pulse and throb, wanting your sweet cunt as well. "Fuck..." he breathed out, tongue sliding along the pulse of your neck and sucking on it hard. Wanting a mark to appear the next day, grasping the base of his cock. "Such a good girl...." The tip of him sliding back and forth against your folds, and he could hear the gasp against his ear so crisply, even with the sound of the hard water raining down. He dreamed of your moans, your gasps, your cries, making him wake up harder than he ever had been before you. "I'm gonna give my baby what she wants... Will that make my baby girl happy?"

"Mmhm," you let out, pathetically, gripping his hair tighter, your breath hitched in the anticipation of it. Your legs spreading further, the thoughts of before, of being caught, you almost wished they did. That Cal did. Every one of your snobby friends that ditched you, that only cared when you wanted to be who they wanted you to be. To be with who they deemed worthy. You wanted them to see how happy Eddie God Damn Munson made you feel... Feeling the tip of him right at your opening, a soft huff leaving your lips, his bite on your neck adding to the feel of you sinking down on his cock. Feeling the vibrations of his groan against your neck, your breath hitching as you take him slowly. Thick. Bigger. It was always a stretch the first time he sinks into you.

You're tight for him, driving him hazy and lustful, his cock throbbing already and he'd only have his tip inside you. "Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart..." he breathed against your neck, a whining brought out from you. His hands at your hips, only to be swatted away from your hands. It made him smile, a soft little laugh escaping as he pulled away from you, wanting to take control but knowing you were a determined little thing. Stubborn. He fucking loved that about you. "Okay, baby, okay..." he assured you, once again taking his hands off and leaning slightly back, your hands gripping at his wet shirt. Nodding toward you, he hummed, "All you, princess. Take every single inch... My cock is so fucking yours..."

There was a light giddiness at his words, giving a determined nod, your hand going toward one of your thighs, bracing yourself, as you continued to sink down on this length. "Fuck..." you let out, more to yourself than anything, every inch bringing a stretch inside you, feeling him shudder, feeling him pulse as your walls stretched to fit him, clenching so tightly as well. "Oh, God..." He always left you breathless, this time no different, and he watched you in awe — well, watched your pussy in awe, he should say. Swallowing hard, water dripping down his nose, watching, appreciating, groaning as he felt himself go deeper and deeper into you. So wet and warm. And Eddie, so hard and thick, your slickness coating him the further he went, and you were doing good, so good. Panting, whimpering slightly. "Eddie, you feel...so good, fuck... Baby... Baby..."

"...you're... Oh, fuck, you're doing so good..." he encouraged you, thunder rolling in, though it was definitely in the back of his mind. "Wanna fuck up into you already, so bad..." And god, he did, the feel of you so perfect. Better than he thought he deserved. "But baby, you can do it... God, you can fucking do it. I believe in you. Princess you always take me so perfectly... Shit. Keep going, sweetheart. Be my good girl, alright? Be my good—"

His words cut off, pushing through his words, a cry wrangled from both of you, your eyes shut tight. You did it. His good girl did it. And there was a sense of pride, feeling so fucking full of him, every inch, all of his girth, settled deep and entirely inside you. Rewarded with the feel of his hands at your hips, his eyes remained open, looking to the bliss expression on your face. No one's ever made him feel this good. so hot, so wet, so tight around him. "That's it... That's fucking..." He groaned, his voice lightly strained, pecking at your cheek as you let out a moan. Impatient already, feeling your move against him, entranced with the feel of his swollen head at the deepest part of you, that special place that no one else had touched. Not even by your own fingers. Only Eddie. And he knew it, the way you bit your bottom lip, moving back and forth, a teasing touch against that very spot.

You two were the same, you must be, as he growled against your cheek, guiding your hips to a more confident pace. Watching as you furrowed your brow, lips parting to let out soft little moans — fuck, he loved those little moans. Your cunt was taking him well, his cock moving inside you easier. You grabbed his shoulders once more, your breath coming out harder, faster. "Shit. Fuck. You're so—" A surprised gasp came out of you, he grabbed your hips, pulled you closer and pushed himself inside you, "Oh, fuck! Eddie...." His breath was hot against your cheek, closing his eyes as he settled into a pace, slamming his hips as deep as he could, driven by your moans, flashes of light running across the sky, thunder booming in the distance. But you didn't care, all you could care about was the sound of his hips hitting against you, of his cock slamming and hitting that spot, that fucking spot, that made your thighs quiver.

The way your cunt clenched around his cock the deeper he went, his fingers gripping you tighter and tighter. It was addicting, groans pushing past his lips with heated breath. His eyes closed, completely taken by the feel of you around his cock. So tight, feeling your pussy flutter around him. But Calvin's words hit him suddenly, and a growl escaped him, his hips snapping harder against you, causing you to cry out. It wasn't jealousy, really, that hits him, that knowing that meathead had you once. You two were kind of the IT couple in school, he remembered, envious, kind of. But him coming at Eddie like he did, as if being with him was so horrible for you, it made him burn. "Did your pal, Cal ever fuck you like this, Princess?" his voice deep, hard like gravel.

It took you a moment to register the words, so caught up in the pleasure his cock was giving you. Almost too much, almost not enough. The way his cock slammed against you, sending waves of pleasure to consume every part of you, making your mind hazy, only thinking of Eddie and how full he made you. Yeah, it took a moment for his words to hit you, to unfurl in your mind to the point of comprehension. When it did, your brows furrowed, giving a squeeze of your fingers in his wet hair. "I... What?" Did Cal...?

"Did..." His hips snapping harder, "Cal...." Again, harder, your body moving with the impact, feeling his cock throb, making him shudder with a groan. "....fuck you...." He hissed at the next thrust, squeezing you tight. "....like this?"

"...Oh, God..." your words a hushed gasp, an rolling whimper falling from your lips, words lost to you as he continued his movements, thrusting into you harder. He heard every word, your lips by his ear, every little cry, sob, moan. Your body feeling on fire, no longer feeling the cold of the rain pouring down on you both, still. It getting harder and harder the longer you two were fucking. Gathering yourself, you squeeze around him, shaking your head. "N—No... No, no...." you finally answered, a sob threatening to halt your words. "Not like this..." your words slurring, feeling how he pulsed when buried so deep inside you. "Only you... Only you've fucked me....like this...."

An approving hum settled out of him, an ease on his heart, moving down and biting your shoulder, smoothing it with a kiss. "He's never....shit, you're so fucking tight...." Losing himself temporarily with the heavily feel of your pussy gripping him so... fuck. "Shit... He's never....made you feel this good?"

"No..." a soft laugh escaping you. "No one has.... You feel so fucking good..."

"How? Tell me..."

You groaned, burying your face at his neck, finding your hips meeting his. The feel of him overwhelming, but needing more of him. That desperate need always there. Did Cal really messed him up that much? "....you're thick. So fucking thick... Fuck!" You cry out, as he had let out a growl and snapped his hips against you. Swallowing hard, you try to continue. "I... Um... The way you kiss me.... I get wet from your kiss alone sometimes... The uh... You touch me, more than he did... Get me wet, get me soaking... The way you taste me, eating me out, determined to make me cum more than once... Yet you're blown away when I want to blow you..." A breathless laugh comes out of you, and you can feel him smile. "It's... It's really fucking cute, sometimes... You care...when you're fucking me... It's not....just getting your dick wet... you care about me. Care about how I'm feeling... And it..." You were struggling, he had stopped, laying down on the wet ground, allowing your hips to move. A gentle rising and falling on his cock, every descent down taking your breath away.

"Go on," he said in a strained voice, his hands finding your hips, stroking the skin gently. It was difficult, to make out your body, the harder you brought yourself down on his cock, the harder the rain seemed to pour. Brighter, was the lightening, and that helped, that definitely helped, a groan falling from his lips at every flash of light that gave him the view of your breasts,bouncing lightly as you went, the way your eyes were closed so tight, lips parted, letting out moan after moan, trying so hard to come up with the words he wanted to hear you say... His eyes traveling down, seeing your stomach clenching every time you took him deep. He moaned, eyes half lidded, pleasure coursing through him. You felt so tight and perfect. There was another flash and he saw his own cock, sucked in by your cunt.

You were right, he did care. Eddie Munson loved seeing how good he made you feel. It wasn't entirely selfless, he'll admit. There was pride, a stroking of his ego when he heard the sounds you made. Felt how wet you were... The other girls, they... God, they didn't feel like you. Weren't as excited as you. Not as tight, not as warm, not nearly as wet as you got. They definitely weren't eager to suck his cock like you did, either. He'd fucked before, but with you? It was different, it was new... Watching you take his cock, bouncing on it harder and harder, it made him throb and pulse, a burning to cascade all over him. The thunder rolled, louder and louder, his chest heaving almost in time with it.

His cock would be your undoing, in more ways than one. The way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him tighter and tighter.... It wouldn't be long, and you were almost sad about the fact. "I..." you swallowed hard, trying to remember where you had left off, before distracted by the feeling of his cock, simply inside you, deeper, he told you to go on, but you could hardly think outside of wanting to cum. "....fuck, I love having you inside me, Eddie.... Shit.... I can't..." Your movements quickening, a sob coming out as you leaned forward, keeping him deep.

He hissed, his grip on your hips tightening, just holding on, letting you move on your own. "It's okay, baby.... Fuck, princess...." Your hands reaching around him, your face buried at the crook of his neck and feeling the heated breath of your moans made his eyes roll back. His cock was pulsing more, throbbing, wanting to feel you cum all over his cock. He wouldn't last long, the feel of you squeezing around him tightly, your sweet body moving so desperately on him. "...I love it when I'm inside you, too, sweetheart..." His voice barely a whisper, moving to kiss just below your ear with a hum. "Your cunt so perfect for me... Taking my cock so well... So wet and tight... Watching you ride it, take it because you love it so much, don't you?"

"Y e s..." you let out in a moan, his words making your hips go faster, the sound of thunder hitting your ears, but the sweet sound of his moans hitting you deeper. Making you whimper, encouraging you to keep going, the tip of his cock grazing that spot, filling you with that clawing pleasure. Sparking from within you, making you cry out every time it hits just right. "I fucking love it... How you feel... Oh, God, I love your cock so much..." Your fingers almost pierces his skin, bouncing on his cock once more, the feel of wet skin as hips collide, filling your ears and senses.

He could feel his stomach clenching, grunting, growling, as the pleasure filled you, he could feel it in his blood and bones, his chest stinging, inhaling deep the cold, wet air and he didn't care. Your words filled him with such pride, your cunt so sweet around him, he bit your neck, growling once more as you let out a cry. "Whose cock do you fucking love, princess? Hm?" His lips biting their way over your jaw, feeling himself throb and pulse inside you, "Baby, you feel so good," he muttered under his breath, rasping. "Mmm... Such a sweet little cunt... Tell me, baby, whose cock do you love so fucking much you can't help but take it like a good girl?"

His words and cock getting out a sob out of you, your breath shuddering, white heated pleasure coursing through you, feeling it to your fingertips, to your toes as they curled, yet your body went on, faster and faster, rising and falling on his thick length that felt so slick inside you now. "Y o u r s," you let out in a mangled cry. You felt him shaking his head with a groan, a hand slapping your ass hard, your body jolted and you let out a despairing cry. "But — oh, f u c k, baby —" you gasped, feeling the tightness starting to form at your stomach, not knowing if it was the rain or tears rolling down your cheeks. "Baby... Baby it's your cock—"

"Say my fucking name, Princess." His voice low, deep, his eyes opened and dark, only illuminated by the flash of lightning then. "I wanna hear you say my name."

"I..." A gasp escaping as his hand smacked your ass once more, the stinging pain lingering, a moan following as the pain mingled with the pleasure. "...Eddie..." you let out, eyes opening to see his face, not quite pleased, rectifying that as you let out, "....Eddie Munson..."

Fuck, that made him purr with utter fucking delight. Gripping your hips tight, bucking his hips up to meet yours. Making you pant, making him let out a guttural moan. "Mmm, that's right.... Whose cock is making you feel so good right now?"

"Oh, fuck... Eddie Munson's..."

"Whose cock so fucking belongs to you?"

You couldn't help but smile at that, a hiss and groan following. "Mmm, Eddie Munson's..." Your joined movements driving him deeper if possible, causing waves to crash over the both of you. The two of you feeling the other's impending climax, felt how you both shivered against each other's touch, working together. Matching each movement, each breath, each moan. You couldn't help it, the words falling from your lips, "...whose cunt is yours, Eddie?" The words almost a whine, his hips snapping hard at that, making your cry out. "Whose cunt squeezes around you so tight, loves you so much, gets so wet... Wanting... Oh god, fuck, wanting..." You felt your thighs start to quiver, a sharp wave washing over you in warning. Walls squeezing his length, feeling his chest rise and fall quick. Thunder, lightning, the rain pouring down harder and harder, steadily on the two of you. "...wanting..." You had to get it out, "Oh, god, wanting to feel you..." A strained whimper making you trail off, feeling his hips move, fucking you harder, faster, a sob rolling out of your mouth. "...oh...fucking....god...!" Growling, meeting his hips with the same fervor, he wasn't making it easy. "...wanting... to feel you...fill it...so deep...so much...every...every fucking drop—"

"Jesus fucking Christ..." he groaned, saying your name, over and over like a prayer. "Yours, yours, so fucking yours..." His voice gravelly, husky, "I'm gonna...I'm gonna fucking give it to you, too. Sweet little cunt gonna take every fucking drop, squeeze me so much, gonna...fucking.... Jesus, fucking..." Growling deep, he paused, reaching for his jacket that was on the ground. Wet, but still a barrier between the grass and you, as he he moved you to lay on your back. Kissing your neck as he did, sorrowfully slipping out of you, though he chuckled lightly at your protesting whine. "So fucking cute..." he muttered, kissing your lips. "Don't worry, sweetheart... You'll get exactly what you want. You always do, baby..."

You seemed satisfied, as he was between your legs, his wet cock sliding along your drenched folds. But for a moment, he was distracted, the sight of your breasts in view. A soft smile coming over him, as if he could go on and not pay them a little attention? Bending down and laying a tender kiss at the soft flesh, he let out a groan as his tongue lapped against the hardened tit, wrapping his lips and sucking gently. You arched your back, pressing it firmer against his mouth. The cold metal of his rings, colder for the rain and wind that started to pick up, make you shiver as it grasps your other breast. Squeezing, pinching your tit, an electric shock shooting straight to your core, but it only made you whine. Feeling his heavy cock against your folds, sliding over your swollen, pulsing clit, but your walls clenched around nothing. Missing his cock, needing him more than you did before.

It only struck him then that his shirt was still on, popping off your tit to take it off. You could barely see the exposed skin, how soft it looks, pale, but the ink of his tattoos had never been more crisp and clear to your vision in comparison. Your fingers reaching up to trace over them, as he rolls his shirt and puts it beneath your head, an attempt at comfort. It makes your heart soar, and eyes close in relief as he slides so easily inside you once more. A relieved moan coming from you both, his fingers come to your mouth and you open them without a single thought. Pressing his fingers inside, two of them, sucking and wetting them immediately before he slides them out.

You feel his lips on yours, kissing him back immediately as your hands find his forearms, clinging to them tightly. You find his fingers, the ones that were just in your mouth, touching your clit. Your moan is swallowed immediately, hips involuntarily moving against the way the pads of his fingertips swirl in little circles over it. His cock moving in and out of you in a slow pace, filling you deep, hiking your legs over his hips. His other hand slides towards your neck, wrapping around it and squeezing at the sides, giving you a dizzying feeling, the vibrations of your groan felt by him, making him end the kiss with a bite of your lower lip, tugging it with a growl. "Princess...."

"...Mmm?" you mustered, your chest rising up and down, the slow pace of his cock torture, the build from moments before was a dull ache, wanting to strike up again.

"Whose cock...do you love?"

Shit. A rising breath, a swallow felt by his hand at your throat, humming softly, "Eddie Munson's."

You were rewarded with a sharper snap of his hips, a sharp moan leaving you. "Good girl..." he growled, kissing your lips. Thunder was roaring, lips finding your neck as he bite hard, making you whine and yelp. Hips moving a bit faster, not too much, though it was difficult to restrain himself. "Your pussy feels so fucking good, baby... Fuck..." He could feel you squeezing him, having his hips stutter forward, feeling too good to resist. "Jesus fucking Christ..." Pulsing, throbbing inside you, his hips picking up in speed, groaning deep, finding himself chasing the high. His cock hitting you deep so perfectly, squirming underneath him, your moans and cries hitting his ears before anything else. "Oh, baby, am I making you feel fucking good?"

"Yes, yes, yes," and he was, that tightening building again, steady and fast. "So, so fucking good..."

He bit his lip, his cock not the only thing swollen at the words. He wondered if you did that on purpose, said shit like that for his ego or just...because you couldn't help it. He was afraid to ask, but now, right at that moment, he was led by your moans, your cries, and the feel of your fucking cunt as he fucked you. Harder. Faster. Ragged breath flowing between you both, his lips and teeth at your shoulder, biting on the flesh hard. "Fuck, fuck, f u c k! Such a sweet fucking.... Shit..." His words hot against your shoulder, he could feel his heart, pulsing and beating hard against his chest, his hips moving seamlessly, a continuous motion, and god, it was driving you crazy. Your nails had dug into his skin, sure to leave a mark, and the thought made him smile. "Whose making you feel so fucking good right now, sweetheart?"

"Eddie.... Fuck.... Eddie Munson..." you said in a daze, your back arched, white heat filling you, the height of pleasure, rising higher and higher. "Such a fucking...perfect...fucking cock..." you hissed, closing your eyes, letting it all wash over you, taking you to where you needed. Words falling from your lips, "Filling me up so fucking good, Eddie... Want so much of you inside me, leaking, making such a fucking mess..."

He groaned, loved it when you talked like that. It drove him crazy, you, who everyone thought was so sweet, and you were, at school, the sweetest girl... Yet with his cock inside you, pounding into you like he was now... He chuckled, "Such a pretty, filthy girl... Loving my cock so much... You never beg like this or talk so dirty with those jocks do you?" You only shook your head, making him groan, quickening his fingers on your clit, enjoying the sound of your cries because of it. "No, no, my girl loves my cock the best. Oh, sweetheart... I'm gonna fill you up so much... You're gonna be leaking of me for a fucking week."

"Oh, fuck, yes... Yes, please... Shit..." You should be ashamed at the thought turning you on so much, but you're not. The thought of his cum spilling out of you when you least suspect it...brings out a moan as his fingers flick from side to side against your clit, "Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes, don't stop — just like that, fuck, yes."

Your walls squeezed around him, and you could feel him throb inside you, his eyes shutting tight as he rested his head against your shoulder, refusing to stop or pause, determined to fuck you, to make you cum as curses and moans fell from his lips in heated release. The hand on your neck moved, fingers gripping and tangling in your hair, each breath punctuated with a whimpering moan from him. "Jesus fucking Christ, my girl's pussy feels so fucking good...." Biting your shoulder once more, growling, you were close, he could feel it, right around his cock pounding into you. And he was so close. "Is my baby gonna cum? C'mon, baby, please..."

"Y e s, yes... I'm..." You felt it, then, the rise climbing up and up. The sound of thunder close and almost,you swore, in time of Eddie's hips crashing into you. "Shit... F u c k!" You felt your body shake, hips trembling, as did your lips, seized and form still as he pounded away.

"That's it — that's it, sweetheart, let go, fuck, you're beautiful..." And he couldn't resist, punctuating his hips, letting out a growl. "Say it, say whose making you cum, baby. Shout it. Scream it. Want the whole world knowing who's fucking you so good..."

You cried out, his name leaving your lips, first and last, as you were doing when he asked, louder and louder each time. The light behind your eyes, engulfing you whole, in that sweet, white hot light, drowned you. Your cunt squeezing him the tightest, making him cry out, but moving still, feeling your release drench his cock, the warmth of it driving him over the edge.

"Baby, princess, fuck, so good, you're doing so fucking —" He groaned, fucking you through it. He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that, loud, even amongst the thunder. "That's right, that's fucking right, let everyone god damn know I make you cum like that—jesus fuck," though you came, he felt your hips rise up to meet his thrusts. It made him let out a throaty laugh, his eyes looking adoringly at you. "Look at my baby... Wanting my cum so much, powering through... Don't worry, baby..." Putting all his energy in his thrusts, taking you deep and fast. "You're gonna... Mmm, fuck. Oh, you're gonna get every...fucking...drop..."

You were being greedy, because you did want it, your cunt sensitive but not caring. Every thrust giving you an after shock of sensitivity, making your body jolt but you didn't care. "Please, please, please." Your voice strained, but heard so clearly to his ears.

"So fucking polite... Shit..." He could feel it, shuddering lightly. "Oh, baby. Fuck. You're such a good girl..." His breath panting, cursing sweet nothings into your ear, making you moan. "Fuck. Shit. Here... Fuck..." His muscles tensing, cock twitching inside you. He let out a groan, "Take it, sweetheart, take it all...fuck!" pressing himself as deep as he could go, your hands grabbing his hips, keeping him there as you could feel him, thick and hot, spilling into you, over and over. He clung to you, as you did him, both taken with the feeling, him emptying himself inside you, and you, feeling so utterly full. He moves slow, coming down from his high, your walls still gripping him like a vice, milking him of every thread, every drop of him, filling you more and more. He pictures his cum seeping out, dripping from your cunt, and the mental image makes him shudder, lifting his lips to kiss along your jaw, toward your lips and you take it with a tired, yet so satisfied kiss. Soft. Passionate. Content.

His hips come to a still, the thunder subsides and the rain seems to lighten up. You're both drenched to the bone, but neither of you care as you kiss over and over. A smile shared between you both, your body limp beneath his, enjoying the moment, the afterglow of it all. Your eyes open and he stares into them, the smile on both of your lips widening, everything seems light, sharing joint kisses, a giddiness filling you both. It could just be the way you looked then, or just the feel of you a mess around his cock, or any number of things, but the words just slip out as he looks at you. "I fucking love you."

Your eyes go wide, and regret kicks him square in the face.

Ah, shit.

"...Eddie," you start, looking into his eyes. "I—"

"Uh," he cuts you off, eyes looking away from your face. A nervousness settling in him. "Shit, it's getting cold," he said, and reluctantly, he pulls out of you, both of you letting out a groan as the release seeps from you. He couldn't help but frown at that, as well as, well, t h a t. He really fucked up a perfect little moment, in his eyes, and the only thing to do was damage control. "I should take you home, your parents are probably wondering where you are..." Brown eyes looking at the state of your dress as you tried to straighten and cover yourself with it. Reaching for your hand, he held it, rubbing his thumb over the top of it. "Wayne should still be at work, I can take you back to mine and we could get that dress of yours for a wash. Can take a shower if you want. Y'know, so they don't ask how you got it wet and....maybe a little muddy."

"I..." you trailed off, watching as he was already getting to his feet, lifting you up, his hands working to straighten your dress, giving your cheek a kiss. His eyes didn't stay on you long, rushing to reach for his shirt and jacket, drenched as all fuck, wringing the excess water as best as he could. You take a deep breath, smiling softly. "Always taking care of me, aren't you?"

At that, he looked at you, and even in the rain, you could see his smile. "For you, Princess? Always."

You believed him, too.

You didn't talk to Eddie much over the weekend, or see him, really, just some late night phone calls which was mainly him playing one of his tapes and you listening. It was Monday once more, when you entered the halls and saw sight of him at his locker, Jeff and the boys talking to him about something that got his attention.

I fucking love you.

The words playing in your head for the millionth time since he said it, wanting to talk about it, but every time he switched it to another topic. Or a distraction by ways of a kiss. It was annoying, he was clearly embarrassed that he said it, and was trying everything in his power to make you forget it even happened or push it away. Which was ridiculous, considering....

And that's when you saw them, Calvin and his teammates, and it brought back to what Eddie had said happened. Confronting him about his relationship with you, talking about how Eddie would ruin you like you were some delicate flower that needed protection, even from an ex-boyfriend like him. It pissed you off. Because you weren't delicate, you were not made of glass, and the fact that the only boy that grasped that and celebrated that with you was the very boy your ex-boyfriend was trying to threaten... Yeah, you couldn't let that stand.

But you were always such a clever one, that an idea brought forth in your head, and oh, you smiled. Smoothing down your skirt, because of course you wore a skirt, you made your way down the hall, right past your ex-boyfriend, and even some of your former friends, and right toward Eddie. He turned to you, just in time for your hands on his shoulders and lips crashing against his. You didn't catch the way his eyes widened in surprised, but you felt his tongue slide into yours, felt the vibration of his moan and the feel of his hands on your waist. Pressing against him more, you could hear the whistles of the students around you both, some of his friends, some not. They only got louder when his hands went to the swell of your ass, smiling against his lips as you felt his squeeze.

You bit his lip, tugging on it hard until it slipped from your teeth's grasp and he let out a little groan. Your eyes look adoringly at him, genuinely, giving another peck to his lips. "C'mon, baby, walk me to our class? Can't wait to sit next to you and..." You purposefully trailing off, pretending to finally catch sight of your ex. "Oh. C a l, hey... Funny, didn't see you there," you chuckled, thumb swiping over your bottom lip. Turning toward Eddie, holding his hand. "Baby, I need you, let's go."

Eddie looked at you, to Cal, a bright smile on his face as he brought his arms up in a shrug. "She's a wild one," he said as he brushed past them, "I can hardly keep up, but shit, I'm willing to try." Following after you, your hand in his as you both left them in the dust, as soon as you rounded a corner, he sped up and grabbed you at the waist, smiling wide as you let out a squeal, you squealed!, lifting you in a spin and pressed your back against the wall and kissed you deep."You... Jesus," he laughed against your lips, shaking his head. "I wasn't bullshitting, princess, you are a wild one." His brows furrowed, "You know you're a marked woman now, yeah? That was social suicide! You have no hope of escaping that or going back to your friends — It's pretty much over for you, baby." He pulled back, hands on his hips. "Now and forever — marked by the freak of Hawkins."

You let out a laugh, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck, "Yeah, well, no loss there. Like I told you. I like your friends better, and...might as well, since I'm loved by the freak of Hawkins as well?"

His smile faded, a look of shock and apprehension on his handsome face, letting out a breath. "....ah, shit. That..." He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, squeezing it. "Listen, that... You don't..." Bringing his hands out, palms towards you, he rationalized, "It's way too fucking soon to say shit like that, I know. And if that freaked you out—"

"It didn't," you cut him off, which made him raise his brow, unconvinced. "Okay, it kind of did, at first, but, I was still kinda recovering from you fucking me so it was all, kind of a daze." You snorted at the smug look on his face. "Fuck off. I never fucked in the rain before. It was a lot." You crossed your arms in front of you, looking at him. "So, what? Heat of the moment kind of thing? You don't love me?"

He took in a deep breath, chocolate brown eyes looking you over, head to toe and then back again. He could feel his heart, how it quickened in beat, a warmth that radiated when your eyes met. Your taste still lingering on his tongue, the urge to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and yes, fuck you, especially in that skirt you wore. "I don't...not love you. If I'm being totally honest... Yeah. Maybe I do... No other girl's just committed social suicide like that, kissed me in front of an Ex-boyfriend to be like fuck off. Get them jealous, yeah, but, not like that." He looked at you appreciatively. "You're kinda badass. And...for some reason, you...you wanna be a badass with me. How can I not love you for that? Or just... I don't know. I guess.... Yeah, yeah, I love you. But I don't wanna fuck it up, y'know, saying that too fast. So, if you think that's too fast or...you don't feel the same, then, we can forget it. And if I don't manage to fuck this up and chase you away for, maybe...a multitude of reasons, I can say it again...while not being in you at the time."

You couldn't help but smile at him, softly, gently. Your hand reached for his, fingers cascading over his rings and interlock with his, giving him a squeeze. "It's not social suicide for me. It's really not. It's just...letting everyone know where I stand. And it's not with them, it's with you." Your smile widen when he squeezed your hand. "I might love you, too." A laugh breathed past your lips as you saw his widened eyes. "But, maybe it is a little too soon to say it, officially. But...feels like we're on the track for it. My mom says she's never seen me this happy, and that's... That's because of you, Eddie. Because you make me very happy and... I feel like...my truest self with you." Kissing his cheek, you let out a hum, "Thank you for... Even though you said it, giving me the space to not feel pressured to say it right back. At least not now when this is still kinda new between us. Though I'm tempted," you both laughed, loving the glint to his eye. "I'm very fucking tempted."

"I'll take that. I can so fucking take that," he said, leaning forward, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, both of you smiling as you pull away, swinging your joined hands between you, sharing a chuckle. The bell rang, causing him to sigh. "Shit. Well, first period, Sweetheart. Oh, and... I totally forgot my book. So, I guess we'll have to share, get our tables together and..."

You rolled your eyes, moving toward class and dragging him along, "No, keep your hands to yourself until lunch time, Munson."

He pouted, looking over you and letting out a groan. "Come on, Princess, you knew what you were getting into with my wandering hands the moment you got into that skirt...."

You gave him a smile, a wicked look to your eyes.

Oh, yes, you definitely did.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut #words did come hither — writings #eddie munson — writings

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seokgyuu · 2 months

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Strawberry Wine - Teaser

Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this teaser, but the actual story!) MDNI!

Word count: 1229 (the teaser)

Release date: Part 1: 4th of August, Part 2: tba

A/N: this is a teaser for my upcoming fic for @svthub's world tour collab! I want to thank the admin team for arranging this wonderful collab and also @okiedokrie for the beautiful header and divider! All the smut warnings will be in the actual fic!

“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.

“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?”

The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you.

“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well.

“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.

“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?”

“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”

Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different.

Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time.

Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything.

“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”

#svthub #svthub.collab #woozi fanfiction #seventeen fanfiction #woozi x reader #jihoon x reader #jihoon fanfiction #svt fanfic #svt imagine #woozi imagine #svt teaser #woozi x you #jihoon x you #jihoon imagine #jihoon au #woozi au

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storm-angel989 · 9 days

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Could you do a Valentino's daughter where shes addicted to drugs but it's simply stuff like cocaine or meth or painkillers and instead you don't have to do this part Velvettes son(idc about the name) finds out when he was looking for her and he found it in her room?

Hi Friend,

I’m so sorry- this is one that has been on my google list for awhile now. I lost my best friend to addiction, so this one sort of hit home. It took me awhile to sort through my own feelings about it and write from Valentino's point of view. Enjoy- and big hugs to anyone going through or handling the struggle.

<3 Mandy

At its core, addiction is a disease.

Valentino knew that. Hell, in his role as an overlord, he preyed on it. Getting sinners on earth and in hell, and hellborne trapped in the vicious cycle of highs and lows was how he gained his power. Not once did he think twice about the consequences for these souls. Quite honestly, he didn’t care.

Not until he watched his daughter start to succumb.

She was seventeen when he first saw the change. A shift from straight A student to D’s almost overnight. Text messages and phone calls from the school. A defensive stance when asked about her day. Dragging her to a therapist's office was his last shot. Taking the opportunity that presented to him, now he stood in the mess she called her bedroom next to Vox and Velvette.

“I don’t like digging through her stuff,” Valentino said out loud. “I mean, I would hate it if…”

“You’ve earned the right to privacy, right now she hasn’t. Something is going on here, and I’m sure we’ll find the answer in here,” Vox replied.

“Just try to be neat about it. It might look like a disaster to us, but I’m sure she knows where everything is,” Velvette added.

She and Vox exchanged looks. They suspected as much- the signs were there. Signs Valentino and his wife refused to see. Carefully, methodically, they searched out every place Vox and Velvette could think of that might hide the source of her sudden personality change.

“I’m telling you, there is nothing here, I’m sure she’s just stressed out,” Valentino said aloud.

Vox spotted it out of the corner of his eye. In one quick motion, he yanked the book from the shelf and opened the cover.

“Oldest trick in the book,” he said out loud as he showed Valentino and Velvette the hallowed out tome. “I think I found an answer.”

The expression on Valentino’s face melted from annoyance to disbelief. He snatched the book from Vox’s hand and lifted up a baggie of blue tinged white powder.

“Fucking, fuck fuck fuck,” he cursed as he opened the baggie. “Fucking coke? My daughter? No, this has to be a mistake. She knows better, she’s probably selling it, she…she probably needs a bigger allowance! Maybe she…”

“Val, isn’t that color an indicator that it's from your stash?” Velvette interrupted gently. “You’re the only one who dyes drugs so you know exactly who sold what.”

Valentino’s face turned a deeper red. From his back, his wings sprung forth as his teeth sharpened, transforming into red points.

“I think we can solve this whole question simply,” Vox added. “We’ll pick her up from the therapist's office and have her drug tested. That will tell us if she’s taking or selling. You go question your employees assigned that color. Bring a picture, ask if they’ve sold it to anyone who looks like her.”

“If her drug test comes back positive, take her to an addiction center. I will not have my daughter fall victim to…” the rest of Valentino’s sentence cut off as he stormed out of the room.

Down in his studio, seven sinners, a photo of his daughter. A confirmation of sale.

“Yeah, that bitch will be another on your payroll soon enough!” One sinner gloated.

The flash of his gun. Six bullets. Six bodies.

To the remaining sinner, he handed a photo of his daughter.

“You spread the word. Anyone in my circle or outside of it, sells to this hellborne, they’ll meet the same fate,” he ordered. “Now go.”

Valentino watched as he scampered off down the hall. Turning away from the mess, he heard the sounds of footsteps as the cleaning crew stepped forward.

“No. Leave them. Just in case anyone needs to be reminded,” Valentino said as he stepped into the elevator.

He looked down at his phone and his heart sank at Vox’s text. Anger boiled up and he slammed his phone into the wall, watching as the shattered pieces hit the ground.

“Fuck,” he hollored into the empty room. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck!”

His mind raced as he stomped out of the elevator and into the penthouse. Back in his daughter's room, the idea of privacy vanished as he ripped apart her room.

She knew better, she knew better! Or did she? Was he…

Valentino sank onto her bed and he surveyed the torn apart space. What if…what if this entire thing was his fault? With a sigh, he stood up and strode across the room. Housekeeping would put it back together, with no place to hide. She wouldn’t be an addict long. He would make sure of it.

#hazbin hotel #the vees #hazbin fluff #the vees x reader #valentino x reader #valentino x you #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox x velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox the tv demon #vox

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physalian · 19 days

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On self-publishing, and why I did it

Based on the research that I have done, following other indie authors across multiple platforms, I think I've made an approach to this that is a lot less... shall we say, *intense* than people make it out to be? I've seen some YouTube videos acting like picking one route or the other might be the worst mistake of your author career.

I mean, I guess?

Back a few years ago I had a manuscript I was querying around and couldn't find any takers. Couldn't find any publishing houses that were accepting open submissions to pick up my manuscript either. So many of them had clauses in the application verifying that you were submitting to them and only to them and to expect a reply within 8-10 months. Coooool.

I did not have time for that.

—

The manuscript I had was 120k words. Baby’s first novel sitting at 120k words is not attractive to publishing houses. It’s a risk. I was younger and didn’t know much about finding an agent and all that jazz, so I had looked into self-publishing and was staring down an editor bill of about $3k minimum because of my word count. I did not have the money for that.

So that manuscript got shelved, meanwhile I wrote the sequel and got halfway through book 3 before writer’s block took hold.

Enter February 2024. I have an idea for a new book. 31 days later, I have that book’s first draft done—Eternal Night of the Northern Sky, on sale from draft to publication in seven months.

This time, I didn’t consider for one second trying the traditionally published route. ENNS is 111k words, it’s a doorstopper of a book, but the bulk wasn’t the only reason I decided to bootstrap myself to the finish line.

I wanted complete, absolute creative control every step of the way

If I have to market myself anyway, why am I splitting profit with a publishing house?

I *really* don’t have time to wait around hoping the right person sees my manuscript. I have a new job coming that’s going to eat up all my free time and could either delay ENNS a year or more, or get it out while I still had time to do so

I didn’t do this for money

I think that’s what makes so many of those rather intense arguments for one or the other so harrowing—the pressure is a lot higher if you invested all this time, money, and effort expecting returns to break even, if not actually turn a profit. Publishing with a publisher doesn’t guarantee people will buy your book, mind you, but it’s a helping hand nonetheless. If I even want to break even, let's say just on royalties from the ebook, I'd have to sell over a thousand copies.

Breaking down my above points:

I’m a firm believer in “if you want something done right, you do it yourself,” which does bite me in the ass from time to time, this I know. I didn’t want to get caught up in contracts or editors telling me what I could and couldn’t do or what I had to change. If ENNS fails, I will have no one to blame but myself, and I am at peace with this. If ENNS fails, and I’d gone through the trouble of signing my book’s soul away to a publisher, then I’d probably be a little resentful. 100% of ENNS is mine, even the cover. I had an image in my head of what I wanted the cover to look like, and I sat down and I drew it and it matches perfectly. Aside from the feedback implemented from betas and editors, my story is told the way I wanted to tell it. If it fails, I am at peace with this.

On marketing, I am not a person who does well with social media. Maybe it’s autism, idk, but trying to keep up with an Instagram is exhausting. I just don’t get anything from tiny text posts and blurbs and doomscrolling through influencers and advertisements. Social Media is, for me, exhausting. Tumblr is different, because writing is my strong point and this blog exists to share and curate something useful. But either way, I’d have to market this book alone, so why not do so with full creative control? If it fails, I am at peace with this.

I have a new job coming very quickly. My current job allows me about 5 hours of free time during my 8 hour shift on a good day not including the time outside work, and I work from home. ENNS was written in 31 days thanks to this job. The new one? Not so much. Seeing “please allow 8-10 months” and “please ensure this is an exclusive submission” on so many little publishing houses, and I did search far and wide, was incredibly disheartening. For me, personally, it wasn’t worth the gamble of waiting all that time, following the rules, and being told no or just being flat-out ghosted. Nor did I want to sit around querying agents into the void. This time, I didn’t have time to sift through agents. ENNS had to get out on the shelves as quickly as I could get it, and all that time (five goddamn months of editing, 500% of the time it took to write it) was spent perfecting the manuscript that it is, *not* waiting around trying to find an agent. If it fails, I am at peace with this.

And lastly, I don’t care if I make absolutely nothing from this book. I didn’t do it for the money, I did it to say I could. I have a day job, and I’m about to have a much higher paying day job. Maybe I’m lucky enough to have that, but I am under no illusions that putting in the hard work guarantees success. Success as an author is a crapshoot and being an amazing book is not the metric sales are measured in, if no one wants to read it. I’d like to make money, I didn’t do it for charity. It’s going to be priced exactly the same as another fantasy book of its caliber. But if only one person buys it, and finds something good from it, something in it that changes their life, then I will have succeeded, profit be damned. If all else fails, I am at peace with this.

—

This is not a post meant to sway people one way or the other. I know I didn’t do enough research or scour the internet hard enough to find a good agent. All of this is irrelevant when time was the most important factor in my debut novel. I was in a position where I could drop that $3k on an editor, so I did. I’m a capable enough artist to draw my own cover, so I did. I might be abysmal at managing social accounts, but less than a year ago this blog didn’t exist and it has over 5k reblogs and 950 followers and I think that’s pretty swell.

I’m 25 years old. I was not about to let it keep sitting around waiting for the golden opportunity with the perfect publishing house that might not have been coming. I had the means and motive to get it done, and by god, I did it.

If it fails, at least I can say that I failed trying. I am at peace with this.

—

Eternal Night of the Northern Sky is available now on Amazon in ebook and paperback! It is also available through your local bookstore.

Check it out on Goodreads!

#writing #writing a book #writeblr #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #writing tips #self publishing #self publication #indie author #publishing

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snezario · 3 months

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Catch Me I'm Falling (Part 1); Vo/x

this is an adaptation of a vanilla fic i had been working on and there's definitely going to be some divergence from the original. i've been so hesistant to post this but i finally decided that i just don't care. i'm very much at rock-bottom and this ship manages to be the only thing that still provides me some happiness.

i know a majority of the fandom/shippers like one-sided radi/osta/tic, but i'm tired of acting like i wouldn't sell my soul for a ca/trado/ra ending for them. if you don't like it, don't read it :~)

it's supposed to be slow burn and there isn't a lot of Stuff yet but i'm throwing this out into our little community and maybe someone will enjoy it

part 2 / part 3

It all happened so fast. One minute he was preparing for tonight’s broadcast and the next Vox found himself struggling to pick himself up off the filthy streets of Pentagram City. Lightly pressing a hand to his throbbing head, he could see his reflection in a nearby puddle. He craned his neck to get a better view, doing his best to suppress a frown as he took in his appearance–he was sporting a crack that ran down the left side of his screen, a visibly torn suit, and a heavily bruised ego.

Vox staggered to his feet before brushing himself off. He self-consciously straightened his bowtie as sinners stared curiously at the VoxTek CEO, or ex-CEO now, but they didn’t need to know that just yet. He tried to keep his head high, shoulders square, and his attention forward as he plodded down the sidewalk, giving any passerby who looked at him for a millisecond too long a menacing glare.

It was more of a threat really, he couldn’t be bothered to use his hypnosis on anyone right now nor is he sure it would be successful.

As he marched further and further away from the tower, the television demon’s screen became clouded, a flurry of thoughts swirled in his mind. Sure the relationship with Val was never meant to last or turn into anything more than casual sex between business partners. But Vox did not see any of this coming, and in hindsight he really should have.

Valentino’s legendary temper had not shown any sign of letting up and if anything had gotten worse over the years, the fact that he tore up one of Velvette’s best models over Angel moving out should have set off the alarm bells in his head. He always thought he had been the glue that held the Vees together, the mastermind behind it all. Valentino was more conniving than he thought and Vox had been played like a fiddle.

It was all so textbook too. Valentino approached him after Alastor publicly humiliated him all those years ago. He was the one to suggest bringing Velvette on as a business partner. He was the one that initiated the volatile on-again-off-again relationship that they had shared for the better part of the past 7 years. Some nights Vox had wondered whether they could be just more than fuck buddies, but every time he brought it up Val would shoot him down.

And so Vox gave up on that idea and told himself he was happy to just have something between the two of them. A part of him was clinging onto the hope that Val would see reason and take him back. Maybe if he could just talk to Velvette, she’d get him to consider meeting with Vox, hearing his side of things.

Looking up he realized that he had been so lost in thought that he actually wound up further from the city than he would have anticipated and was now standing at the bottom of the hill to the Hazbin Hotel. His screen glitched and he ran a hand down the crack in his screen which came as a result of Val bashing his head into the wall. It was starting to interfere with his vision too, everything was a bit fuzzy. He looked longingly over his shoulder, back at V-Tower–despite how far away the hotel is, the neon sign could be seen twinkling in the distance.

Pulling a face, he trudged up the hill. Now standing directly in front of the hotel, he realized how gaudy it looks up close. Like a Vegas casino hotel, he snorted softly at the comparison. He moved towards the front door and stared at the stained glass windows. Vox hesitated, his raised fist precariously hovering an inch above the wooden door frame. Was he really about to stoop so low that he was going to his rival?

Long buried memories of Alastor started to resurface, as well as the burning hatred he had been harboring towards the radio demon flared in his chest. His screen chose that moment to glitch again, temporarily extinguishing his anger towards the smiling freak, as well as the pesky memories. He gritted his teeth and relented with a weary sigh. Vox raised his hand again before rapping three times on the door. What did he have to lose at this point, really?

He pulled out his phone to see if there was already any news on his spat with Valentino, he was almost certain that the moth demon was going to start a smear campaign against him. Before he could unlock his phone the door swung open to reveal Charlie, who was bouncing up and down slightly, clearly trying to keep her excitement contained. “Welcome to–” she began to say before her jaw nearly dropped to the floor.

While she had never met the other two Vees in person, she was familiar with them and what they looked like. This had to be the television Overlord, Vox. Although, he looked a little worse for wear, especially for an Overlord. She quickly reestablished her sunny demeanor and started again.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

It was almost too much for Vox when the Princess of Hell greets him at the door. He almost expected his knock to go unanswered, but now that he’s face to face with Charlie he has half a mind to turn on his heel and run back to V-Tower with his tail between his legs back to Val and beg forgiveness, not unlike the way Alastor escaped the fight with Adam.

Vox gave his head a slight shake as he pushed down the impulse, even though it was so very tempting, planted his feet to the ground. He looked Charlie up and down, taking in her appearance. She was almost his height, to his surprise, much taller than she seemed based on her interview with the news anchor Katie Killjoy some months back. Which was ever so slightly intimidating for him, but no matter.

“Your royal highness,” he bowed his head in reverence to her before raising it again, fixating a sharp grin on her, “I don’t believe we have been properly introduced. My name is Vox–” Charlie was unable to keep her enthusiasm in check and interrupted him with a squeal.

“Mr. Vox, I have heard of you and I am so excited to finally meet you! We haven’t gotten as many guests as I would have hoped. Please come in! Come in!”

Without another word, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the hotel. Despite his aversion to touch, especially when he didn’t initiate it, Vox allowed himself to be dragged past the threshold of the front door.

He gazed around, privately impressed–the interior was actually nicer than he would have expected. During this time he realized this was actually the first time he had stepped foot in the building, well the newly rebuilt version of it anyways. It was not nearly as hi-tech as his VoxTek building, but it was most likely due to that radio bastard’s influence.

He turned his attention back to Little Miss Bleeding Heart and continued, “Right, so I hear the hotel is still looking for recruits and what better way to sell your hotel than to have another Overlord’s endorsement?” The media mogul maintained his grin as he spoke but faltered when he felt an uncomfortable increase in static pressure around him, which signaled the arrival of a certain pompous old-timey prick of a demon.

“Endorsement from you? I hardly think that’s something we could use here,” Alastor’s staticky radio voice grated against Vox’s audio input sensors and he couldn’t help but flinch before making the necessary adjustments. The radio demon’s narrowed gaze pierced through him, and Vox knew that the former was silently taking in his appearance, judging him. His fanged grin remained steadfast as ever, although he raised a brow as his eyes lingered on the crack in Vox’s screen. Much to Vox’s surprise, he chose not to pass comment.

“Alastor,” Vox curtly acknowledged his rival, “I’m just here as a professional courtesy.”

Vox shifted his weight as his last statement hung in the air between the three of them. Why did he lie? Didn’t they take anyone here? After all, they accepted Pentious without batting an eye. With his cracked screen and disheveled appearance, it wasn’t like he even looked like the all-powerful Overlord image he was used to exuding. He was positively exhausted, but he just couldn’t bring himself to tell the truth yet, especially with Alastor hovering around.

It was bad enough that he showed up on the hotel doorstep looking like a kicked puppy. At this point, he doubted his ego could take anymore of a beating today. He hoped that at least Princess Morningstar would accept his pathetic attempt of an excuse and not ask any follow-up questions.

Just as Charlie opened her mouth to respond, Angel’s voice cut her off. They all turned their attention to the pink fluffy spider sinner lounging on the couch by the bar.

“Yo, get a LOAD of this! Val and Velvette kicked Vox out of the Vees and have started a smear campaign against him. I’ll bet Val’s going to have me working extra this weekend.”Angel trailed off as he noticed how silent the hotel had become. Alastor and Charlie both slowly turned to look at Vox, his pupils constricted but his eyes were now as large as dinner platters. The sheer horror on his screen was undeniable–well now he was royally fucked.

Vox felt a flush creeping up his screen as the hotel occupants’ eyes bore into him. Angel’s exclamation had invited the curiosity of a few other members of the hotel–the television demon now commanded the attention of the former exorcist angel and cat bartender. And normally he lived for attention, but not like this.

His gaze flitted over each of their faces, most of which seem to be of bemusement. Although there was genuine concern in Charlie’s eyes, which almost made Vox sick to his stomach. Alastor’s expression on the other hand hadn’t changed at all. However, he was the first to break the silence.

“Care to explain yourself, old pal?”

Vox’s mouth opened and his lips moved but no sound came out. His screen flickered as he tried to manually override his audio interface. He was slightly alarmed as his backup fans whirled loudly and liquid cooling kicked in. Hopefully his soundboard hadn’t short circuited.

“Why don’t we sit down and talk?” Charlie suggested, seeing the distress on Vox’s face. She placed a steady hand on Vox’s shoulder and guided him towards the parlor.

“Mr. Vox, I know you just got here but you’re welcome to stay here while you sort things out. Everyone is wel–”

“HA! Him? Stay here?” Angel interjected, tossing his head back as he laughed. “Pentious was one thing but this is one of the Vees. I’ll bet this is all just another ploy to infiltrate the hotel.”

The pornstar’s mention of Val and the Vees sent a sharp pain in his chest. His claws dug into his palm, but other than that Vox maintained his composure.

Charlie looked contemplative as she considered Angel’s words. She spoke slowly as she worked to process everything.

“Even if he was trying to undermine our efforts… Why did he come here himself? What do the Vees hope to gain from sending the face of their trio to us?”

“Don’t ask me!” Angel threw up all four of his arms in exasperation. “It’s not like I try to understand anything that goes on in Val’s fucked up mind. I’m sure he’s not much different.”

Charlie opened her mouth to speak but promptly closed it, looking reminiscent of a goldfish when she did it.

“Plus did you see the look on Smiles’ face when this guy showed up?” Angel jabbed a thumb towards Alastor. “I’m sure he wouldn’t hesitate to go full demon mode and tear Vox limb from limb.”

Charlie frowned at the imagery. She turned her attention to Alastor leaning on his staff-microphone stand in the corner of the room. Despite his initial question, he’d been eerily silent. The radio demon met her gaze before looking down his hands. She looked between him and Vox. When neither party offered up anything, she pursed her lips together.

“Well the offer still stands, Mr. Vox.” Charlie said definitively. She momentarily put a hand on his shoulder and he could feel her compassion radiating off her. Her angelic girlfriend who also hadn’t said a word the entire time, still leaned up against the wall. As Vox makes eye contact with her she scowled, although her expression softened as Charlie approached her and took her hand in her own.

She looked over her shoulder and addressed him one last time, “I’m sure Alastor or Niffty can show you to a vacant room, should you choose to stay. Have a good night!”

Angel stretched his arms above his head and yawned loudly.

“Well this has been all sorts’a fun ain’t it? Imma turn in as well. See ya later, Whiskers,” Angel waved genially at the bartender before disappearing down a hallway.

There was an uncomfortable silence now that only Alastor and Vox were left in the parlor. Again, Alastor was the first to break that silence, much to Vox’s chagrin.

“When you first showed up on our doorstep, I was ready to throw you out. You’re quite lucky Charlie intervened and is showing you a kindness that I could never possess,” Alastor tapped his gloved fingers along his chin thoughtfully as he paused, “You know, this actually might not be so bad. It’ll be like old times–”

Vox was lost in thought but managed to catch Alastor’s last sentence. Thankfully, it seemed like his audio issue had resolved itself. He rasped, “Yeah well, you can forget that. I’m not planning on hiding here for the rest of my existence.”

He winced when the radio demon looked at him keenly, he had hoped that Alastor hadn’t also picked up on the hoarseness in his voice. Pressing a couple fingers to his throat, he frowned. Perhaps the audio issue wasn’t as resolved as he thought.

“Suit yourself.”

Alastor threw up his hands indifferently, adjusting his lapels as he stood to leave.

“Alastor, wait– I didn’t mean… I just–” Vox’s voice wavered as he struggled to find the words, burying his head in his hands when he didn’t quite get there. A couple of tense moments passed and he was sure that Alastor had probably just shadow teleported away by now. But when he peeked between his fingers, he could see a figure still by the fireplace. Although Alastor’s back was turned to him now.

Just as Vox opened his mouth to speak, Alastor’s head snapped around–a decidedly horrifying sound that made Vox cringe. The radio demon’s grin widened in a way that caused Vox’s stomach to churn with anxiety. That’s never a good sign is it?

“Let’s take this conversation to my room, hmm?”

The heavy radio static in the space between them made Vox recoil. Oh how he hated when Alastor did that. It always made his systems go haywire or well, it used to at least–with his upgraded components he was less prone to Alastor’s radio interference. He watched as Alastor melted into the shadows, his yellow cheshire grin being the last bit of him to disappear into the darkness.

“Do I have much of a choice?” Vox muttered under his breath before focusing his mind to channel his electrical teleportation abilities and follow his rival. He stopped in front of Alastor’s door wondering what horrors awaited him inside. As he stared anxiously at the ornately decorated door, he noticed that it was cracked open. He pondered his next move… Alastor did invite him in.

With a deep inhale, he pushed open the door. The room was dimly lit and Vox had to adjust his screen’s brightness to see much of anything. In his peripheral vision he noticed Alastor sitting in an armchair on the far side of the room.

“I’m sure you’re dying to snoop around. I will permit you a few minutes to get it out of your system before we begin.”

He looked around Alastor’s bedroom. Huh. Creepy. It appeared to be a hybrid of rustic 1930’s cabin and a Louisiana bayou that stretched past what Vox could presently see. Despite the swamp-like environment, it was surprisingly cool in the room, which was good for Vox because humid climates tended to mess with his components. He idly rubbed a hand down his cracked screen as a fleeting fuzzy sensation skittered through the circuitry in his head.

The radio demon stayed in his armchair, simply observing Vox’s movements. He strolled around the room, picking up various trinkets. Some of them appeared to be remnants of his human life, while the presence of some others puzzled him because of their seemingly ordinary nature. He never really considered Alastor to be a particularly sentimental person but the objects in his room indicated otherwise. Perhaps he didn’t know the other Overlord quite as well as he once thought.

As he turned away from one of the cabinets, his gaze caught a glint of a metal picture frame on a high shelf. Despite the multitude of items, he realized that there are no photographs, let alone framed ones. He reached up to grab it but Alastor’s shadow slid up from behind him and snatched the picture frame before he could get a better look. Startled, Vox spun around to look at the radio demon.

“I think that is quite enough,” Alastor said, motioning for Vox to sit in the armchair across from himself. He waited for the television demon to settle into the chair opposite of him before speaking.

“As you may know, the hotel is a bit lacking in residents following the extermination. I dismissed the idea before, but it could be useful to have the endorsement of other Overlords. Therefore, I have a proposition for you: I help you get back into good graces with your former colleagues and you–”

Vox snorted, before letting out a derisive laugh, “You really think I’m stupid enough to make a deal with you?”

Alastor’s ears flicked back irritably and he rolled his eyes, “Not for your soul, although it would be lovely to own another former Overlord’s soul,” his eyes briefly sparkled mischievously as the thought delighted him. Vox clenched his jaw when Alastor implied he might lose his coveted Overlord status.

“No, my dear. Just an itty-bitty favor. It’s nothing really.”

“Uh-huh… and what favor would that be?” Vox now had his arms crossed in front of his chest as he raised a skeptical brow at Alastor, unconvinced.

“I will reveal more in due time, old pal,” Alastor said cryptically. The finality of his tone indicated to Vox that pressing the issue wouldn’t be in his best interests. He retracted his hand as Vox continued to cast a doubtful gaze upon him.

“Oooor, you become the laughingstock of the Pride Ring, lose your Overlord status, and worst of all what you’ve always feared–”

“Okay! Okay, I get it…” Vox cut off Alastor, which earned him a glare from the other demon.

“So, do we have a deal?” The radio demon leaned towards him, extending his hand again and smiling all the while. What Vox wouldn’t give to wipe that infernal grin off his face.

Vox narrowed his eyes and searched the radio demon’s smile for a sign that he’s lying, going to double-cross him, or worse. The possibilities were endless. Damn, the bastard was always good at masking his true intentions and beyond his usual mischievous grin, it seemed like a relatively normal deal. Well, as normal as deals in Hell went. And with Alastor no less.

And yet, something in the radio demon’s voice tempted him.

Vox stared contemplatively at Alastor’s outstretched hand. As a fellow Overlord, he was no stranger to deals, nor does Alastor’s notoriety for being THE dealmaker go over his head. Sure, it’s not like he was bargaining with his soul but still, deals held a lot of weight in Hell.

This is a mistake. Every fiber in his being was screaming at him to turn back–hightail it out of the hotel and never look back, to grovel at Val’s feet to take him back, that he’s sorry for every argument, every disagreement they had ever had, no matter how small, even if he wasn’t to blame. Before today the thought of begging on his hands and knees would have disgusted him.

There was something that Alastor said earlier in the parlor that brought his spiraling thoughts to a full stop. It’ll be like old times.

Before he had a chance to overthink it, Vox clasped his hand around Alastor’s.

“Deal.”

Alastor’s smile broadened ever so slightly when their hands connected. A brilliant emerald light cloaked the entire room as the two demons shook hands, along with a shrill radio frequency that threatened to overload Vox’s motherboard. Not ominous at all. Alastor’s pupils transformed into radio dials and his antlers expanded both in height and length tenfold. Huh, it had been some time since Vox had seen Alastor’s demon form. This wasn’t even a full transformation–his full demon form was truly a sight to behold, lesser sinners would have cowered in its presence.

Vox shielded his face with his free hand until the light faded. The radio demon released his hand, which he let drop almost lifelessly to his side. His heart was pounding in his chest. What did he just do? Before he could dwell on his actions Alastor piped up.

"Now that that's out of the way, let's say we patch up your screen, shall we?" Alastor brushed off his coat as he stood, one hand clasping his staff as he waited for Vox to respond.

Vox frowned. His scree–? Oh! Raising a hand to trace the crack, he clenched his jaw as he’s reminded of Val’s parting gift to him. He had been so wound up that he’d nearly forgotten about the damage. His attention was momentarily diverted when he felt the unusual fuzzy sensation flit along his screen. Although, apparently that was just the beginning of his problems because as soon as the sensation passed, he completely lost vision on his left side.

“Fuck! Give me a sec, I’m just going to reinitialize my visual system.” Vox’s screen went dark briefly. Upon reboot his face reappeared, but not before it’s covered by an error code indicating that his visual I/O ports are damaged and a warning to cease usage until they are replaced or repaired. He manually overrode the warnings and to his luck, his vision was partially restored not to its usual 4K quality but it would do for now.

Alastor rifled through a cabinet drawer, returning to his chair with a small tube of fast-drying glue. He presented the tube to Vox. “Think this will help?”

“Couldn’t hurt, I suppose,” Vox responded with a half-shrug. He shifted his weight to take the glue from Alastor, but was surprised to see the other demon unscrewing the cap.

“Might be best if I apply it,” Alastor said quietly. Vox simply nodded, still a bit stunned that Alastor had not only offered to help but was actually initiating physical contact. He inched towards the radio demon so that the latter didn’t have to reach as far.

“You know, when you rejected my offer all those years ago I thought you were joking,” Vox paused, gazing at a point past the radio demon’s shoulders at the foreboding darkness of the swamp. It was so quiet the sounds of their breathing seemed to overpower the ambient noises of the bayou. Alastor remained quiet, focused on applying the glue to the crack in his screen but Vox can tell he’s captured the other’s attention with the way his ears twitched.

That was until the dull flickering in the back of his screen that he’d been trying to ignore, decided enough was enough. He only barely registered the sensation when his breath hitched urgently. He angled as far away from Alastor as possible as the tickle crested.

“ihh–ih’DZZTSSHhhuh!”

Alastor blinked at him in surprise. Vox’s screen felt unusually warm as he cleared his throat and tried to breeze over the interruption by continuing from his previous statement. “I thought you’d come around eventually. We both had the highest numbers either of us had ever seen and people’s tastes change so quickly here, I just felt that we needed to stay up with the times. But I guess some things never change, eh?”

Alastor opened his mouth to address the intrusion, only for his teeth to clamp down as he let out a pained hiss. He dropped the tube of glue as he jerked away from Vox to cradle his chest.

“Hey, are you okay?” Vox tilted his head. He couldn’t help but ask, even though he knows that Alastor would probably rather get his ass handed to him by Adam again than admit anything to him. Although he's not the only one to be loath to admit weakness of any kind, it seems like nearly everyone in Hell has the emotional intelligence of a teaspoon, barring a select few. Perhaps that was part of the “being in Hell” package, keep them at each other’s throats so they wouldn’t amount to anything.

Despite the minor incursion, Alastor’s smile hadn’t wavered in the slightest. He addressed Vox coolly, “I’m fine, don’t worry your noisy picture box of a head about it.”

However, the wince following his statement indicated he’s in more pain than he was letting on. Vox stretched a hand towards him but Alastor flinched away. He bristled, baring his teeth at the startled television Overlord, “It’s none your concern.”

“For once, will you stop being a pompous ass, and just let me take a look?” Vox snapped irritably at him.

As the lights flickered dangerously, Vox pressed up against the armchair fearing that he pushed too far. Alastor’s full demon form began to loom over him and Vox would be helpless to do anything. To his surprise, he shrank back down, his black eyes reverting to their usual crimson sclera, and his antlers returned to their normal size. He made a non-committal sound and motioned for Vox to move in closer.

Vox peeled back the soiled bandages and examined the wound, careful not to aggravate it. He’d never been the squeamish type but still had to swallow the urge to make a face. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he was surprised when he caught wind that Alastor had not been missing for that long and had already returned to the hotel. From what Vox had seen through his drones, the radio Overlord had taken much more pure angelic power to the face than most demons would be able to handle, let alone live to tell the tale.

“A parting gift from the first man,” Alastor said bitterly, jolting him from his musings. He felt a bit exposed, not having realized that the other demon had been watching for his reaction.

Turning his attention back to the injury, Vox inspected it further. He’s no doctor, quite far from it, but it seemed to be healing, albeit slowly. Probably would hurt like a bitch for a good long while, and no doubt would leave a nasty scar.

“You should probably change the dressings more often,” Vox advised, to which Alastor gave him a withering look. Typical. He rolled his eyes and shrugged, “Unless you want it to get infected.”

Alastor hummed, returning back to the cabinet that Vox saw him sifting through earlier. He pulled out a pack of gauze, ointment, and a roll of medical tape placing it on the table between them. If Vox had to guess, he’d probably been taking care of it himself, and was not being attentive enough from the looks of it. Before Alastor had a chance to object, Vox picked up all the items and removed the old bandages swiftly.

“Hold still,” Vox mumbled with the tube of antibiotic ointment between his teeth. He squeezed a thin but more than adequate layer on the gauze before pressing it against the wound, hesitating at the hiss that escaped Alastor clenched teeth. Powering through, he secured the dressing with medical tape, so that it was snug against the wound but breathable to encourage it to heal a bit faster. “There.”

The radio demon blinked at the fresh dressing but said nothing. Vox didn’t expect him to express any gratitude and just a little acknowledgement would have been nice, but he wasn’t about to hold his breath for it either. Against his better judgment, he circled back to their previous conversation.

“I know things weren’t always perfect between us but there were moments where I thought you genuinely enjoyed parts of it at least. And now, I just… Knowing that all this time you cared so little for our partnership,” Vox deflated into the armchair with the last sentence and dragged a hand down his screen. Behind the charismatic businessman persona he put on for the press, he’s tired of it all and being around Alastor again was messing with his head.

“That’s not entirely true,” Alastor murmured, staring pensively down at his hands folded over one another on his lap.

Vox did a double-take, did he hear that correctly? Alastor had spoken so quietly he had to turn up his volume to max, only to barely catch what he said. Did his audio system get fused together because he could have sworn that Alastor just debunked his theory. He alternated between letting the comment pass by or bringing attention to it. Fuck it. He decided to probe, just a little.

“Oh? Care to elaborate, old pal?” Vox smirked as he threw Alastor’s nickname back at him. He passed a hand along the back of his vents, which seemed to be a bit sensitive at the moment.

Alastor scoffed, looking up at the ceiling as he started to relay his thoughts, “We had a good thing going. When you first brought up the idea I wanted nothing to do with it, but you were persistent. You started to wear me down and I thought, maybe the idea wasn’t so far-fetched, maybe I was just being stubborn.” Vox was completely enraptured as Alastor recounted his version of the past.

“Ultimately, it felt like your proposal was inviting too many cooks to the kitchen. I have always worked best alone and our partnership was very much an outlier. After that last night, well…” Vox braced himself to relive the painful memory as the radio demon mentions the night, the night that everything fell apart. But Alastor merely trailed off.

His expression warped into something unrecognizable as he continued, “I thought about apologizing and the next morning I went to your apartment but you were already gone. Within the hour, your alliance with Velvette and Valentino was announced.”

Vox’s eyes widened, he had never heard about any of this before. “I-I had no idea. I–” His words got caught on the lump in his throat as he imagined Alastor at his doorstep.

Alastor shook his head, “Of course not. I left for my seven year “sabbatical” shortly after.” Vox angled his head slightly to see a wistful expression written on the radio demon’s features. Caught up in the moment, he asked the question that’s been on his mind since Valentino first alerted him to Alastor’s return.

“Where did you go all those years?” As soon as the words left Vox’s mouth, there was a sharp uptick in static interference around them.

“You never did know when to keep your nose out of matters that don’t concern you,” Alastor sneered. And just like that, the moment evaporated, gone. Alastor’s mask slid back up, shutting Vox out again. In turn, he shoved down whatever feelings had started to bubble up, back into the furthest recesses of his heart.

“The crack is sealed but I doubt it’s fixed. I’m no electronics expert,” Alastor’s tone was matter-of-fact and he pointedly avoided looking at Vox. Instead, he picked up a book left on the table and began to flip through it.

“Figured as much,” Vox sighed wearily. He craned his neck to examine the drying glue in a mirror on a nearby shelf–hmm, Alastor didn’t do half bad. “I’ll have to visit the electronics store tomoro–hihh’IZZZSHuhh!”

Vox barely managed to curl into his elbow as the sneeze sent him pitching forward. The unexpected outburst caused Alastor to jump and Vox was stunned as well. When he straightened up, Alastor was staring at him with an odd expression on his face.

“Uhh… sorry again,” Vox apologized, rubbing his arm sheepishly before turning to leave. With his hand on the doorknob, he tilted his head back slightly, “Thanks for… this I guess.”

Without another word, he slipped out of Alastor’s room. His screen is warm with embarrassment, having sneezed not once but twice in front of Alastor. As humiliating as it was to lay out his feelings in front of him, this was so much worse.

Wandering the halls aimlessly, Vox found himself thinking about the moth Overlord. Vox was never enough, he could never satisfy him. Reflecting their relationship made his chest ache and tears pricked at the edge of his screen. He stopped in his tracks, choking back a sob, as the emotions threatened to tumble out. Which turned out to be a mistake as he found himself leaning up against a wall when he doubled over with a harsh fit of dry, ticklish coughs.

When it finally subsided he heaved himself off the floor and went to find a place to curl up for the night. He was too humiliated to find the small cyclops maid demon and ask for a room so he settled for a chaise in the lobby. He shivered violently before laying his makeshift bed. As Vox brought his knees to his chest, the events of the day replayed in his mind. How fast his whole world has come crashing down. One moment he had it all–a company with his name plastered on it, the status and title of being an Overlord with several hundred, if not thousands of souls to boot (he never really kept track), and a so-so situationship, the next he was at rock bottom–stuck at this tacky hotel for redemption, of all things. Redemption. The ridiculousness of it.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his head throbbed. God, he really needed to get his screen fixed.Although… the idea of righting one’s wrongs did have some appeal. His fingers grazed the patched up crack, the crack that Alastor helped patch up. They had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, things between him and Alastor could follow suit.

#hazbinhyperfixation #fiendwriting #here's hoping that i'll actually finish this #i haven't even finished the vanilla version but that one is 50% done #i spend way too much time and energy worrying about what other ppl think and it's just time for me to let go #as vox said: who gives a shit?

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