#friends to strangers to enemies to lovers

[streamafterlaughter]

Soundtrack to Disaster

Chapter VII: Choose Love or Sympathy

masterlist | playlist | pinboard | prev. | diaries coming soon

songs for this chapter: that’s what you get by paramore, xo by fall out boy, lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off, king for a day by pierce the veil

a/n: hear me when i say these two are absolutely in for it it. I'm also a huge fan of italics apparently

chapter tags: angst, hurt/comfort but then... hurt/no comfort (SORRY!), reader is a sensitive baby we love her, mean!Eddie, but also very sweet Eddie. swearing, smoking, drinking, reader struggles with self image / mental health (vague for now) | fic tags: angst, hurt/(eventual) comfort, (eventual) smut, slow burn, enemies to friends to lovers, Eddie Munson x Fem!OC!Reader, Modern AU

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taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @kellsck @faggotine @xplrnowornever @taccobelle @micheledawn1975 @mewchiili @dreamerjj @losingmygrasponreality |

--

The weekend comes barreling towards you sooner than you’d have liked. You wake up Friday morning with a sense of dread, Robin’s words on a broken loop in your head: what you ‘know’ isn’t the whole goddamn story. Everyone keeps fucking saying that, but no one has actually told you what you “don’t know.”. Chris hasn’t given you a goddamn leg to stand on, speaking in riddles and never once confirming or denying a thing. You’re an adult, and you wish these fuckers would start treating you like one.

On your nightstand, your phone buzzes repeatedly, a string of incoming text messages:

bobbins: so,, ive smoked some weed bobbins: im cool now  bobbins: i still think there’s a lot we don’t know,, bobbins: but I’m sorry for insinuating you should forgive him. bobbins: i cant imagine how you felt that day. bobbins: i love u bb

You scramble to respond before she can get another five messages in,

it’s ok bob, i love u 2

The subject changes swiftly as she tosses questions about tonight at you one after the other. You send her pictures of your outfit choices, hairstyle ideas, personal protection list before finally asking her the question gnawing on your brain. 

What if he doesn’t like me?

Robin responds by calling you.

“Hi?”

“Don’t be stupid.” She starts, not letting you explain. “He asked you out, why wouldn’t he like you?!”

“I dunno! Maybe he’s just looking for a hookup. Maybe he thought I’d be easy?” The suggestion sounds silly coming out of your mouth, and you hear Robin scoff at you. 

“Look, if things start to stink, call me. Steve’s closing tonight, so he’ll be right down the street.”

You sigh into the receiver. “Okay, okay. You’re right, I’m probably worried for nothing.”

“Atta girl! Now go on, go headbang or whatever it is you people do.”

You snort as you say your goodbyes, and hang up the phone. Without Robin to distract you, you turn to the outfits you’ve spread out on your bed. Emo Nite is casual, sure, but you still want to look good. You decide on a pair of Tripp pants, adorned with metal hooks and chains, pairing it with an old Paramore shirt you cropped with kitchen scissors in high school. With your outfit out of the way, you sit at your vanity to do your makeup, extending your winged eyeliner a little further than you would on a normal day. When you’re done, your alarm clock reads 8:30, and you make your way to your car. 

–

9:15.

The lights of the city seem to dance across the sky. Everything is louder here, bustling with nightlife you could only dream of seeing in Hawkins. You’re standing outside the club alone, nursing the end of your last cigarette. Maybe he’s running late? You don’t have a single unread text from Scotty. You type several different messages of your own, deleting each one before settling on “You on your way?” But its delivery is never confirmed. It’s grown cold outside, and you wrap your flannel tighter around you to keep the wind out. You should have brought a jacket, but you weren’t expecting to be outside for this long. You can hear the first notes of an old favorite song, followed by a bunch of 20 somethings cheering. Patrons are dressed in black, clad in leather and fishnets, their combat booted feet stomping into the venue. Emo Nite is a nostalgia cash grab, you know that, but you’re envious of everyone setting foot inside, surrounded by their friends and peers, leaving you abandoned at the door. 

–

9:30.

The time taunts you from your phone screen. You’re waiting outside the club, the air brisk on your face. Every so often, the door swings open as someone enters or exits, and you turn to see if it’s someone for you. So far, none of them have been, and you’re debating whether or not to walk to the record store and ask Steve to hitch a ride back to his place to mope. 

“Hey, Bee!” The voice calling you isn’t the one you’re hoping to hear, but it’s just as familiar. You find its source across the street, Macy waving at you eagerly as her bandmates and fucking Eddie follow behind. Oh, right. Like being stood up isn’t humiliating enough, now Eddie gets to tease you about it. 

“What’re you doing out here, girl? It’s freezing!” Macy is sweet, holding your icy cheeks between her warm hands. You can tell she’s already had a few drinks.

“I’m, hm,” You clear your throat, “I’m waiting for someone.”

“A date? Eek! Hear that, Eds? Our girl has a date!” Her words send static through your veins. Since when are you anyone’s girl, let alone Munson and Macy’s?

“Mhm, okay, honey. Let’s go get you situated, yeah?” Eddie ushers her inside, handing her off to Fiona before returning to where you’re standing. Without a word, he lights a cigarette and offers it to you, and you take it without acknowledgement while he lights his own. After what seems like hours, the two of you choose to speak at the same time,

“How late is–” “Why did you–” “What?” “What?”

“You first,” Eddie gestures to you before pulling from his cigarette.

“Why did you tell Scotty to ask me out?” 

“What in the world makes you think I told him to ask you out?”

“Look, she’s gonna kill me for telling you this, but Robin overheard you in the bathroom talking to Scotty at the bar. She walked in by accident, and you two had come in before she could leave. Anyway, you know she can’t keep secrets for shit, so she told me what you said to him. Why?” You cross your arms, attempting to hold in as much body heat as possible,but to no avail. Eddie notices, and immediately sheds his jacket, not giving you a chance to refuse it as he drapes the leather over your shoulders. 

“I thought he was a cool dude. Thought you guys would hit it off.” His answer does nothing to satiate the hunger for every detail of every single thought that went through his brain up until this very moment. He is driving you fucking insane. “Hey, I bet I could get Macy to put you on the guestlist, so at least tonight won’t be a total waste?” Yet another peace offering from Eddie Munson. Hell must have frozen over.

He doesn’t wait for your approval before reaching into his inner jacket pocket of the coat that you have since put fully on to shield yourself from the wind, to grab his phone. After eagerly punching a few buttons, he holds the device up to his ear, plugging the other with his finger. “Hey, babe. I’m outside with Bee, Scott stood her up.” You can’t hear what Macy’s response is, but Eddie replies with, “You read my mind, honey. We’ll be in in a sec.” He ends the call and turns his attention back to you, his big brown eyes attempting, it seems, to read your mind. “You pissed?”

You shake your head, inhaling another drag of your cigarette. “Not really. Disappointed, I guess.” You pick at your cuticles, refusing to hold eye contact with Eddie, but that doesn’t stop him from boring his own into the top of your head; you can feel them penetrating your skull. “Could’a used the distraction.”

“Fancy me a distractor? Macy’s gonna be busy, I’m practically all by myself tonight.” You look up, and Eddie’s jutting his bottom lip out to pout at you. 

“You don’t mind being seen with me?” You tease, flicking ash onto the concrete. You can’t imagine Eddie actually wants you to agree to this offer.

“Why would I? When have I ever cared what people think of me? Especially these posers.” He gestures to you, and you fake offense.

“Posers?! I’ll have you know I have met some of the most authentic punks at places like this, you dweeb!” You toss your cigarette butt on the ground, stomping out the embers with your boot. 

“Sorry, sorry! I’m used to going to shows where people leave bloody. Not used to this side of the alternative Venn Diagram, I guess.” He flicks his own cigarette, mirroring your movements. “Shall we go inside?” You nod begrudgingly, and he opens the door to the club for you, stopping to give the bouncer your names.

–

The club is dark, expectedly. The lights flash shades of pink, purple, and blue as people dance and attempt to chat over the noise; and the whole scene is set to the music of your childhood and teen years. As Eddie leads you across the floor, you can feel your chest tighten, watching couples surrounding you, dancing or sloppily making out against the back wall. You let it sink in that you've been stood up. The first time in three years you’d even attempted to go on a date, and the guy didn’t even show up. You hum along to the song playing, a desperate plea for distraction from the situation in front of you. Meanwhile, Eddie leads you to a table away from the speakers, and shouts that he’ll be right back. You can only guess he’s off to wish his girlfriend luck.

While you wait, you observe the crowd around you, and it’s full of kids you knew in high school that used to bully you for liking this kind of music, dressed as caricatures with arm warmers and cheap chains dangling off their black skinny jeans. Conventionally attractive girls wear their eyeliner in heavy wings, their lips painted shades of dark red, dancing with boys in all black with long hair. You try not to think about what Scotty would have worn. You wonder if he even likes this kind of thing. Maybe it was a test, and you'd failed.

Just as you’re about to spiral into misery again, Eddie returns with two drinks in his hands. “You like shirleys, right? I wasn’t totally sure. I can go grab you something else if you want?” If you didn’t know any better, you would think Eddie was nervous.

“No, this is good. Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem!” He has to yell over the music.

“And, uh, thanks for hanging out with me. I know it’s like, the last thing you wanna be doing right now.”

Eddie takes a swig of his beer before responding, “Nah, definitely not the last thing. This is way better than listening to Steve talk about his latest conquest.” You picture the scenario, Eddie slamming his head against a wall while Steve goes on and on about Tracy, or Nicole, or whoever it is this week. The mental image makes you giggle, and Eddie’s smile seems to widen. It makes you uncomfortable, being so close to him. Luckily, though, you don’t get to think about it too long.

“Alright, alright! Thank you guys for comin’ out to hang with us! We have a guest for you tonight, please welcome Macy Miller, frontwoman of Statuesque Dolls!” The crowd cheers politely, these things never have people worth freaking out over. Macy takes the stage, clad in a silky black dress that hugs her form perfectly. Next to you, Eddie is whooping and hollering, “That’s my girl!” It makes your stomach churn. You’re reminded again that you’re supposed to be here on a date. You’re supposed to be someone’s girl. 

“Alright, I got a couple of songs for you guys, but I need all of you up and shaking some emo ass with me, got it?!” You can’t deny Macy knows how to work a crowd. She gets people to migrate to the dance floor, and Eddie offers his hand out. “Can I have this dance?”

“Um,” You hesitate to take his outstretched palm. “What about Macy?” You point lamely to where Macy is killing her cover of Fall Out Boy’s XO.

“What about her? It’s a dance, Bee. I’m not, like, asking you to sleep with me or some shit.” Eddie frowns at you, like you’ve offended him.

He does have a point, though. One dance won’t kill you. You accept his gesture, taking his own massive hand in yours, and hope to god he can’t tell that yours is sweating. He leads you to the dance floor, waving to Macy from the crowd as he does. There’s a burn in your stomach when she blows him a kiss, and he pretends to catch it in his mouth. You’re close to bailing when Eddie turns his attention back to you, clearing his throat.

You stare back at him, eyes wide with fear that he’s going to bail, and you prepare to tuck your tail between your legs and call Robin. Instead, Eddie takes your hand again, and yanks you into his embrace. You bump into his chest, but he recovers the fumble by holding you there, free arm resting hesitantly on your waist. You’re frozen, having no clue where to put your hands, so Eddie takes the lead. He drops the hand he’s holding on his shoulder, and moves your other to meet it on the other side. He then rests both his hands on your hips, giving you enough space between his body and yours to breathe, but barely.

The song continues, melodramatic and overtly horny. That, combined with the warmth of the drink in your veins, plus the closeness of Eddie, makes you feel almost good. It’s difficult not to overthink, though, having him in your personal space, your bodies pressed together on a very hot, crowded dance floor, moving in ways you definitely wouldn't have done three hours ago.

“So,” Eddie muses, looking anywhere but at you as he speaks, but still able to move in sync with you. “How’s your day goin’?”

You snicker at his poor attempt at conversation. “Well, I got stood up, and now I’m dancing with who I would have bet this morning wanted absolutely nothing to do with me. All things considered, I think it’s going pretty horribly!” 

The ice seems to crack as you speak, Eddie visibly relaxing as you sway to the music. “Okay, that’s fair. Are you pleasantly surprised?”

You look up at him, but his eyes are locked over your head, staring where Macy stands onstage, swaying with a few friends in front of the DJ booth. You shrug. “Jury’s still out.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes at you. After what feels like an eternity, the song ends and Macy queues another rock anthem to get the crowd moving again. You’re unmoving as Eddie unwraps himself from you. “We should do this again sometime.” He states, unreadable.

“What, dance?”

“Sure, or just, y'know, hang out. Be civil for once. It’s been awhile.”

You roll your eyes. “You know this can’t be, like, a normal thing. It bruises our reputation as sworn enemies.” A feeble attempt to make it a joke, though you know in your heart you can’t be friends with Eddie. The earth would cave in on itself. 

Eddie chuckles. “Whatever you say, Bee. See ya ‘round.” And he leaves you alone, disappearing into the crowd.

–

It’s 11:30 when your phone buzzes. You’re four drinks deep, stirring another dirty shirley at the bar, observing the people around you having fun.

Scotty A: Hey! Totally meant to text you. Got stuck at work.

An avalanche of thoughts rumbles through you, most of them not safe for work. You don’t even know how to respond. There’s no apology, no groveling for your forgiveness, not a hint of actual, real regret. Like you don’t matter. It exhausts you to even think of what that date would’ve been like had he shown up. You type your response between gulps of liquid courage.

“Are you fucking serious?”

The "..." bubble appears, but quickly vanishes. You gape at your phone, wishing you were home so you could let out the blood curdling scream building in your chest. The anger vibrating through you needs an escape, so you lurch from your seat at the bar, rushing quickly out of the club. Eddie whips his head around as you pass him. You think you hear him call your name, but your eyes have started stinging and he’s the last person you want to see you cry.

The night air hits you hard, bringing separate tears to your eyes. Following your therapist’s advice, you start a box breathing exercise. Breathe in, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Breathe out, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. 

“Hey,” The voice startles you into a hiccup. “You okay?” Eddie has made his way outside after you, leaning against the wall. “Saw you dash outta there like something caught fire. Got worried.” He says it nonchalantly, and it takes you aback. Instead of responding, you flip your phone screen towards him. His eyes scan the page before they focus back on you, shaking his head. “That is so fucked up.”

Your voice breaks with your next question. “Did you know this was gonna happen? Scotty’s your friend.”

Eddie’s face drops into a grimace. “How would I have known? Why would I have told him to hit you up if I knew this was gonna happen?” 

It frustrates you how reasonable he’s being. You want someone to yell at, someone to blame, and Eddie just so happens to be the closest target. “I don’t know! Maybe you did it as revenge, or something equally as immature. Maybe you wanted me to feel the same way you did when–”

He interrupts, shaking his head feverishly. “I wouldn’t wish that feeling on anyone. Even you.” The words are a knife to your chest. You don’t like remembering what you did to Eddie that night, but it’s your fault for bringing it up. “I told Scotty to ask you out because he said he liked you. Crazy concept, I know, but i suggest you stop thinking everyone’s out to get you. I thought it would be fun, hanging out with you and him. I’m sorry it didn’t go how you planned, but blaming me isn’t fucking fair, Bee.”

He’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to back down. “It’s not fair to take someone’s brother away for six years, but you had no problem doing that.”

“Fuck you, Bee. Seriously.” He spits the words before turning on his heel, and heading inside. You are once again left alone, outside, in the cold.

–

[parmahamlarrie]

HI lovelies. I don't think there is much to say these past two months. They've been long, hard, and so sad - both in fandom and in my own life. I've been finding some comfort in fic, and if you are finding that comfort there too, then I hope you enjoy these. My inbox is open if you are looking for anything specific. Be kind to yourself, and each other. 🤍

🍂 Down the Line || @sunflouwerhabit || 279.9k 🍂 Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Famous/Famous, Baseball AU, American AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Healing, Hurt/Comfort "Louis still hates Harry. Totally. But he may tolerate him a bit today."

🍂 would it be enough if i could never give you peace? || hemakeshimstrongx || 129.9k 🍂 Famous/Famous, Singer Harry, Footballer Louis, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Taylor x Travis AU "Louis is sure he's flirting, and it's cute. It's definitely working, regardless of if it's intentional, that's for sure."

🍂 Sharp as Sugar, Sweet as Spice || @holdingontochaos || 60.2k 🍂 Age Difference, Strangers to Lovers, Single Parent Harry, Sneaking Around, Angst, Jealous Harry "'Rock climbing was a terrible lie. You never voluntarily exercise.' Well, she's got him there."

🍂 Cuddlebug || sun_flowr || 19.4k 🍂 Omegaverse, Alpha Louis, Omega Harry, Established Relationship, Kidfic, Adoption, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff "Harry laughs lightly. 'We are watching cartoons when the pup isn’t even awake. We’ve definitely fallen head first into this parenting thing.' 'We sure have,' he smiles, 'and I wouldn’t have it any other way.'" 

🍂 A Morning in the Frathouse || @marchessa || 2.4k 🍂 Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Fratboy Harry "'Louis?' 'Hello!' 'Oh, it's just H's wifey,' someone shouted at the top of the stairs."

🍂 Do You See What I See || @allwaswell16 || 2k 🍂 Vet Louis, Plot Twists, Humor "Dr. Tomlinson coughed. 'Um, Harry?'  'Yes?' Niall burst into laughter. 'Do you see what I see?' Harry got the feeling he was missing something." 

And for a bit of fun inspired by @starrysaturdays, here are my stats this month:

Words read: 421,026 - 242% up from August

Number of fics read: 4 (53 fics less than August) (Down the Line and the sequel are long oops)

Number of authors: 3

You can find past months rec list HERE and you can find a Directory of all the fics I rec HERE!

[httpsnali]

WEALTHY CHARADE

CHAPTER FIVE: Sacrifice

✬ Pairing: Park Sunghoon x Female Reader

✬ Genre: strangers/enemies to lovers!AU, angst!romance

✬ Synopsis: Forced into a union that promises more complications than peace, you must confront the ghosts of the past and decide if you will bend under the weight of family duty or carve out your own path.

✬ CW: toxic parenting, mild depictions of anger, y/n is really emotional, mild descriptions of anxiety, y/n is a mess

✬ WC: 7.6k

Sunghoon was exceptionally tired. Tired was an understatement. He was exhausted. He had spent the entire day responding to emails and rescheduling his appointments, and was now on his way to the dinner that his father had so frustratingly withheld the details of.  

His friends had expressed their concerns, and Jay had gone as far as threatening to lock Sunghoon in his apartment if he didn’t set aside some time to take a break. Sunghoon suspected they weren’t wrong. When his friends would nag at him concerning his work habits, he would brush it off like it was some playful concern. While he appreciated their sentiments, he knew he had no choice.

He wasn’t kidding when he told Jungwon that he was the backbone of the entire corporation. His father did a good job of being the face of the company, however, he was the one who handled everything behind the scenes. He secured deals with investors, both overseas and locally, sat in directors’ meetings and made sure that they were all in line and made sure to keep up appearances in public. He kept PTC afloat. He wasn’t CEO or anything, his father still held that title, but he might as well have been. He had done well to gain the trust of the directors and knew how employees would whisper in the breakrooms about his incredible dedication and contribution to the company. Sunghoon led the company because no one else could.

The man sitting quietly beside him as they drove to this mysterious dinner, whom he referred to plainly as Mr. Park, was as lousy a businessman as he was a father. Sunghoon regarded him with thinly veiled disdain. From as early as he could remember, his father only saw him as someone he could use to handle his affairs while he went about kicking back enjoying his wealth. Mr. Park would rather spend his time hunting or golfing with stepmom of the month, leaving his responsibilities to his son. The thought made him sneer but he was way past giving his father any kind of reaction.

The silence stretched until his father, staring out at the passing cityscape, finally spoke. “How are things at the company?”

Sunghoon let his father’s question linger for a moment before responding, “Fine.”

There was a pause, then silence befell them once more. Minutes later, Sunghoon’s phone buzzed with a text. He mentally cursed himself for not silencing his phone earlier only to see it was a text from Jungwon. He wasn’t sure how to feel about him still working despite him giving his cousin the rest of the day off. He didn’t linger on it for too long since it would be like the pot calling the kettle black. Jungwon was just as much of a workaholic as him, but he was in no position to say anything about it.

Jungwon: Hi Boss, I know you are at dinner with your father, but I looked into the joint venture rumors with AhnPharma. The media outlet confirmed that their source was credible. Although they didn’t disclose who it was, they said it was from one of the higher ups at PTC.

Sunghoon could feel a migraine coming in. Higher ups at PTC? What were they talking about? No one bypassed him on major company decisions, let alone something as big as a venture rumor, yet he knew nothing about this. Did someone skip protocol and release false information to the public? Unless…

He turned to his father, his suspicion growing.

“Is there something I should know about?” Sunghoon demanded.

“In regard to what?” Mr. Park replied, unfazed.

“Well, for starters, this dinner,” said Sunghoon. “You have given me no details about who we are meeting except that they are old friends of yours. I think I deserve to know more than that.”

Mr. Park scoffed and turned to face his son for the first time since they got into the car.

“It’s easy to believe we deserve things when we have done nothing to merit them.”

Sunghoon arched his brow slightly, already starting to get irritated. “I don’t have time for your word games. Just tell me who we are meeting and while you do that, tell me why I am seeing stories on talks about a joint venture with AhnPharma. Did you know about this?”

“Yes, I did.” Mr. Park admitted without sparing a beat.

Sunghoon pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to contain his frustration, “Why wasn’t I informed about this, since when did you approve of this?”

“Not too long ago, about a month or so.” His father responded casually.

“Why wasn’t I told about this?” Sunghoon took a deep breath, to avoid giving his father the satisfaction of seeing him upset. “How could you agree to this without running it through me first?”

Mr. Park gave an arrogant smirk, “I am running it through you. This dinner.”

“What do you mean? Are we having dinner with people from AhnPharma?” Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, glancing sideways towards his father.

“Just to finalize some details. Shouldn’t take too long.”

Sunghoon didn’t know what was more frustrating about this; his father’s nonchalant tone, or the fact that they were in the finalizing stage of a deal he knew nothing about. His thick brows knitted together in a frown, “This makes absolutely no sense. Why would you agree to this?”

His father looked away and stroked his jaw, ignoring the urgency in Sunghoon’s tone. The car came to a stop signaling their arrival. Sunghoon looked out the window recognizing the neatly kept estate of the Ahn family. He recalls attending a gala dinner with his father years ago, but the memory was too hazy and insignificant to remember much of.

“These are old friends of mine,” Mr. Park explained, “I am just doing them a favor.”

“I didn’t think you had any friends,” Sunghoon said sarcastically. “I can’t help but to wonder if you have a different motive.”

“You always expect the worst from me, Sunghoon.” He accused in a honeyed tone.

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” he pocketed his phone and clutched the car door handle. “And anyway, the company can’t go into a joint venture right now, so I guess the only thing we will be finalizing tonight is the fact that this deal is over.”

Mr. Park grasped his shoulder which made Sunghoon flinch slightly. “I gave them my word. We can’t back out now.”

“I don’t care about your word,” Sunghoon shrugged his father’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t go making promises that you can’t keep. I am the one who gets to decide what is good for this company and what isn’t. You haven’t set foot in that building in thirteen months, you don’t know how things work around here. What makes you think that you can go around making decisions for this company when you don’t even know the people who work there?” he closed his eyes briefly, “Do you realize that a joint venture means we would have to lay off nearly half of our employees? Have you considered that these are people with families to take care of? And what about new policies that they would have to adapt to? Did you consider that at all?”

Sunghoon pressed his lips into a thin line. He needed to keep himself in check. There was no use getting angry over a deal that he was not going to allow to go through. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, whatever reason you had for making this deal, I’m sure was…noble.” He said hesitantly after noticing his father’s sullen expression. “However, I’m afraid it’s come in too soon and we can’t handle this right now.”

Mr. Park cleared his throat and adjusted his collar. Sunghoon made a good point. He was so caught up in trying to do a good thing for his friend that he forgot to factor in the people that would be involved.

“Still, we should have dinner with them. Hear them out first, you might reconsider.” He concluded before stepping out of the vehicle.

«

You had just put the final touches into your look for tonight when a soft knock was heard on your door. Thinking it was one of the maidservants coming to assist you, you asked them to come in without glancing at the door. The sound of heels clicking made you look up to see your mother walk in and shut the door behind her. You stood up quickly unsure of yourself. This was the first time in a very long time that she had been in your room. It was an odd sight, nevertheless, you greeted her hesitantly.

“Good, you’re already dressed,” she said, dismissing your greeting entirely. She scrutinized you, looking for noticeable flaws before she approached your vanity and selected a pair of diamond earrings from among your jewelry. “These look better, and get rid of the pearls, they age you up.”

You followed her instructions, hands trembling slightly as you switched the dangling earrings you had on before for the plain but simple diamond studs. With a strut, she walked to the windows gazing out at the lush green gardens. Your mother was a picture of poise and elegance. She wore a perfectly tailored tweed set and had her hair pinned up into a classic French bun. She let out a soft sigh before she turned back to look at you, now having put the earrings on.

“Those earrings were a gift from my father,” she started. “I never got to wear them much, didn’t think they suited me.”

Your fingers flew to your ears as if on instinct and your heart started to beat fast. You realized you were nervous. Your mother was actually holding a conversation with you, and she was being…warm? You weren’t sure how to respond, afraid that anything you said could be used as a point for criticism from her.

“They are beautiful,” You settle on simply stating the obvious. You cleared your throat softly before adding, “are we celebrating tonight?”

Your mother observed you inquisitively, not giving much away with her unreadable expression. Part of you wanted to believe what Aeri said about things starting to look up, that maybe this was your welcome dinner and that they were finally going to admit they missed you through their actions. That maybe distance did indeed make the heart fonder, and your parents had missed you terribly and that just because they were not good with their words didn’t mean they couldn’t show you.

Your mother glanced down at her skirt, brushing away some imaginary lint before she took a step toward you. Still keeping her distance, she clasped her hands in front of her.

“Y/n,” she said, “we’ve decided something important for you. It’s time you stepped up and did your part for the family.”

You held your breath in anticipation as though bracing yourself for impact. You were not sure what had prompted you to act this way, but you didn’t like the sound of it, so your heart sank.

“You know how important family is, don’t you?” she asserted, and you swallowed.

“We’re at a stage where big decisions have started to come into play, and an opportunity has come up for us. You know your father and I have always worked so hard for this family. And sometimes…well, sometimes sacrifices are necessary.”

Her tone was curt and cold. All of a sudden, the room felt smaller, and the air felt thicker. You willed yourself to calm down and stop overreacting because you had no reason to. Still, you suspected that she was about to drop something on you.

“Sacrifices? What are you talking about?” You winced slightly as your hand instinctively rose to your neck, fingers searching for the pendant you always played with in moments like this. Disappointed to only find bare skin your hand lowered, lightly brushing over your collarbone instead.

“It’s about the future. Your future. And the company’s future. This is bigger than just you.” She raised her chin, her tone firm.

“What is bigger than me? What are you not saying?" you pleaded anxiously. Why couldn’t she just get to the point? She sighed deeply glancing toward the door as if wishing she would rather be anywhere else than here, having this conversation with you.

“The company hasn’t been doing so well, and a year from now, we could be on our way to bankruptcy,” she paced the floor cautiously with a solemn expression on her face, “We haven’t been able to acquire new investors for some of our trials and are slowly losing the trust of the ones we have. Two have pulled out already in the past six months, and if others get a whiff of this…well, it could be disastrous for us.”

“Okay, that sounds really unfortunate. But what does that have to do with me?” you ask as she takes a seat on the little bench at the foot of your bed. She arched her brow and scoffed lightly glancing at you for a moment.

“We’ve come to agreement with the Park family. Our investors need a solid succession plan and their son is…he’s an excellent match.”

You stare at her in shock, refusing to believe the words currently coming out of her mouth. There was only one way the Park son could be a successor of the company.

“You don’t mean…” it comes out in a mumble as this gnawing feeling begins to grow in your gut. You grab onto your vanity, leaning on it for support. Your mother avoids your gaze and glances at the door again.

“This is about stability, Y/n. Think about our family’s legacy.” She is defensive and trying to prove her point but all you are wondering is why breathing suddenly feels so hard to do.

“Are you serious?” it takes everything in you to make your voice sound stable and clear, “you’re marrying me off like some business deal?”

“This is not just a business deal. It’s an investment. You stand to benefit from this too!”

Something flips inside you and you’re furious now, “Benefit? How? By being a pawn in your plans? Did you even consider asking me about it? Did you think about what I want?”

The notion of arranged marriages wasn’t new to your family. Your parents’ marriage had been an arranged one. Still, you had expected them to want different for their children. Times had changed. Even if they had still insisted on an arranged marriage, you had expected to at least have the freedom of choice when it came to selecting who you would marry. You didn’t consider yourself reckless and irresponsible when it came to your choice of boyfriends. Granted, you didn’t have that much experience in dating, and most of your past relationships were short-lived, but they were all good people. You were able to choose someone good enough on your own.

“We know this is sudden, but you’ll come to see this as the best for everyone. Sometimes we have to put the family first.”

“No, you decided to put the company first,” Tears began welling up in your eyes. You felt utterly betrayed, unheard and alone, “You never cared about what I wanted. I can’t believe you’d do this to me!”

“Enough!” she snapped and stood up, “It’s already decided. The sooner you accept it, the better.”

It then hits you like a freight train. This whole evening, the dress, the jewelry. They were getting you ready to present you to your so-called future husband. You had walked into their trap without even knowing. You now felt stupid in that dress. You hated it. You hated yourself even more for having a sliver of hope that your parents actually cared about you. You didn’t want to go to that stupid dinner.

“Don’t make this difficult, Y/n. You know how much we’ve done for you,” she bores her gaze into you and takes an unwavering step forward. She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly in a way that makes you shrink back in shame, “You know how much you owe us. It’s time to repay by being useful, don’t you think?”

A shiver runs down your spine as goosebumps rise all over your skin. You swallow, hard and break away from your mother’s gaze. Your palms feel clammy as you dig your fingernails into them. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. You clench your fists harder to distract you from the pain you feel elsewhere.

Your mother seems to take pleasure in your reaction. Or distaste over it. Either way, she finally makes her leave but not before telling you to fix yourself up as the guests should be arriving soon. It was only after she shut the door behind her on the way out that you gasped for air releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding.

You collapsed to your knees on the floor and began to sob. Once the tears began to flow, you couldn’t stop them. You hated this. You hated this so much. You wanted to scream for help, but you knew no one would come to your rescue. It felt worse to know that your mother was right about you owing them. Technically, they were in this position because of you. This was your karma. You deserved to be treated this way; still, it stung like hell.

You squeezed your eyes shut and took big breaths to calm yourself. Straightening back up, you reached for a tissue on your vanity and blew your nose and wiped your tears. You weren’t going to go along with this, you decided. Whoever this guy was, you were going to make him realize just how big of a mistake he would be making to be marrying into this family. You were going to make him run for the hills terrified.

Oh, who were you kidding? There was nothing you could do to undo this. Your mother was very clear that their decision was final. And the part of you that loved to punish yourself suspected that this was the universe’s way of making you pay for your actions. You had lost the resolve to fight years ago when you left this place.

You lifted yourself off the ground and onto your chair. Your makeup was ruined, and your eyes were red. You fixed yourself up really quickly, occasionally hiccupping and tearing up. In the end, you decided to let your hair down to hide your flushed skin. After making sure there were no remnants of your little outburst, you stood up and made your way to the dining room.

«

Sunghoon was reminded of just how much he couldn’t remember this place the moment they entered the foyer. The room looked foreign. The interior design leaned toward vintage with various art pieces on the walls and placed strategically in the corners. It was evident that the owners of this house had a taste for art and finery—he could see why they were friends with his father. An expensive looking Persian rug stretched over the floor and up the staircase, seamlessly uniting the place. Seconds later, a man who looked to be in his late 50s came in through one of the doors.

“Jihoo!” the man greeted boisterously. He gave Mr. Park a fierce hug like they hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Hyung‑nim!” Sunghoon’s father responded, “it’s been a while. How are things going?”

“How many times have a I told you to stop calling me that, you’ll make me seem older than I actually am!” he let out a thundering laugh giving Sunghoon’s father a firm pat on the back. “I’m so glad good to see you in person, Jihoo. We’re so used to seeing just your face through a screen,” he paused and took a step back to study him, “Have you lost weight?” he joked.

The two exploded in laughter and it felt odd for Sunghoon to see his father be so likable to someone. He noted how the man mentioned seeing his father through a screen. The two must have been in contact for a while, discussing the details of this business deal. He silently hoped this wouldn’t complicate things too much when he inevitably declined it. The man finally seemed to notice there was a third person in the room when Sunghoon shifted his weight.

“This must be Sunghoon,” the man said addressing him directly. He bowed politely then shook his outstretched hand. The man’s grip was firm and steady.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“Sir?” the man repeated, “what’s with all the formalities tonight, eh?” he chuckled.

“We are quite tired,” Mr. Park explained, “the drive from the city was a long one. Hey, why did you have to live so far away? Why can't you get a town house like a normal person?”

The man pocketed his hands and stood up straight. He had an air of confidence and entitlement around him as he said, “The city is way too crowded, and my wife can’t stand the pollution.”

Sunghoon resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hated entitled people. They were the worst sort to go into business with. They would never agree to compromise and always had unrealistically high expectations. Still, he let out a light chuckle to be polite.

“Come though, you must be exhausted.” The man directed the two gents into another room that he could only describe as a waiting room. Similar art pieces were placed around the room while the walls were lined with shelves of different sized books and other vintage looking clutter. The man encouraged the two to take a seat while he walked to the mini bar in the corner and offered them a drink. Sunghoon was more of a cognac guy nevertheless he accepted the glass of whiskey. From the first sip alone, he could tell that wasn’t any cheap liquor.

“So Sunghoon,” the man started once he had sat down as well. He chose the single armchair across from where he and his father were sat, as though choosing to purposely single himself out. “How are things at Park Tech? You father tells me business is going well.”

Sunghoon sat up straight. It was now time to get into business, he didn’t enjoy beating around the bush and believed in tackling his problems head on.

“Things are going quite well. The company’s latest software release exceeded sales expectations and investors are more than pleased with the rise in quarterly earnings. Updates in the weekly board meetings are nothing but good news.”

The man nodded slowly, evidently impressed. Sunghoon felt a twinge of pride. He knew that his efforts did not go to waste, even if they did sometimes take a toll on his personal life.

“I like the sound of that,” said the man then he nodded to Mr. Park, “some talented kid you’ve got here.

“I agree, I wouldn’t have trusted PTC to anyone else. No one knows how to run the company like he does.”

“Which is why he is the perfect man for the job.” The man leaned back into his chair, taking a sip from his glass with a knowing smirk.

Sunghoon took a sip from his glass as well and shifted uncomfortably. He relished the burn of the amber liquid as it slid down his throat.

“Tell me, have you two discussed the details or our arrangement? I’m open to hearing your opinion…or any recommendations.” He laughed in a very businesslike manner that held no real delight in his voice.

His father beat him to it before he could answer. “No, but that’s what we’re here for, isn’t it? I thought Sunghoon should hear it from you first, then we will decide on the way forward.”

“Decide on the way forward? What do you mean, man? The decision was already made, was it not?”

This time, it was Sunghoon to interrupt his father. “With all due respect, sir, the announcement of this venture came quite unexpectedly,” he glanced sideways at his father, “so we have not been able to make the proper arrangements to accommodate it. Especially around this time of year. We have not allocated resources for growth or diversification.”

The man set his glass aside and leaned forward. “But based on your mid-year performance reviews, you seem to be doing well enough to pivot your strategies a little. And who knows, this could boost profitability before year-end.”

Did he know about their current performance? How much had his father divulged to him already? Sure, they were exceeding performance expectations, but they had already used the surplus funds to invest in new hires. They would have to go back to the drawing board and create a fresh budget, and possibly hold back on a few product launches. It was too much, and too soon, and he didn’t understand how he was expected to just say yes.

“What do you know about AhnPharma, boy?” the man questioned. Sunghoon hated the way the word boy sounded on his lips; almost demeaning.

“Aside from what’s common knowledge, I don’t know much, I’m afraid.” Sunghoon admitted sheepishly. He felt so unprepared for this. Had he known sooner, he would have studied more about AhnPharma which would have given him a broader idea of what they were getting into.

The man stood and walked towards a large painting that Sunghoon now realized was of his family. He recognized the man, who sat next to a poised woman who he assumed was his wife. In front of them stood two children: a boy and a girl. They both had similar features, but the boy seemed to be a year or two older than the girl. The painting was done years ago, the man before him currently looked older, grayer. Everything about him felt calculated. Even the way he slowly paced the room as if deciding on the best approach to take with this. Sunghoon wondered if he approached everything in his life in the same manner.

“The company was first started by my great grandfather in the 1920s. He discovered that by mixing and using simple herbs, one could cure different diseases. Together with his brothers, they were able to provide healing salves and medicine to the poor people who were not able to afford professional aid from the hospital at that time. By the time the Korean War broke out, they had already made a name for themselves in medicine and even provided our troops with aid.” He paused and now looked directly at the two and offered a tight-lipped smile.

“I’m not going to go into heavy detail, lest I bore you…”

“You could never bore us…” Mr. Park offered pathetically.

The man gave Sunghoon’s father a brief glance before fixing his gaze back on him, as if knowing where the true power to make the decision lay, and that it lay with him, not his father.

“My point is this; AhnPharma has always been the people’s favorite. We provide the best kind of medical aid to the people of this country and aside from that, we have some of the best investors lined up to support our work.” He sighed and stroked his beard, appearing to be deep in thought. “However, of late, we have started to lose the trust of some of them,” he continued before muttering an insult under his breath. “They believe that they should only invest in something if that thing is guaranteed to be profitable long-term.”

Sunghoon carefully took in his words. He was slowly starting to understand what the man was trying to say.

“So let me get this straight,” Sunghoon started. His glass, which he abandoned long ago, sat on the small table before him. He didn’t like drinking when talking business. “You are essentially looking for investors? You need money?”

Something flashed in the man’s eyes but then it was gone in an instant. He felt his father tense up beside him.

“Well, if you put it like that it makes us look like we’re begging!” He laughed but no one laughed with him. “What we need is something more long-term–”

He is cut off by a soft knock on the door. A servant came in and after bowing announced that dinner was served. He thanked her before she scurried away, looking obviously irritated at having been interrupted.

“Well, we will have to continue this conversation in the next room. My wife hates tardiness.” He says as he stands. They all stood up with him and made their way to the dining room. If money was all he needed, why didn’t he just tell his father that? Why did they need to go into a joint venture? PTC could just invest, that wasn’t so hard to do. He made a mental note to ask Jungwon to see if it was plausible, in the coming week.

They came back into the foyer, and he saw the man’s wife coming down the stairs with a practiced smile on her face. Then, his eyes fixed on you, who was just a step behind her, with your eyes downcast. He immediately recognized you from the painting. You had the same adorable nose and seemed to have grown into your other features. Your hair flowed angelically down your back and the dress you wore hugged your curves so perfectly, he felt his jaw go slack for a second. His face lit up for a second before sensing your sullen mood, then his expression dulled.

Your mother had given you a stern look for choosing to wear your hair down. She hadn’t approved of that; she had started to say. But before she could get a word out, you heard voices coming from the bottom of the staircase. She quickly plastered her welcoming expression and descended to greet them. You followed suit with a solemn expression on your face. Your appetite was long gone, and you could feel yourself starting to give out internally.

“Darling,” your father greeted. You couldn’t stand to see him right now, still bitter that he didn’t consider telling you of his plans to sell you off. “I believe you know Park Jihoo.”

Your mother stretched out her hand for Mr. Park to take. He stepped closer and bowed slightly before reaching for her hand. He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a brief, almost ceremonious kiss against her knuckles—a gesture that felt both old-fashioned and deliberate.

“So, you’re the man that’s been keeping my husband locked in his office at odd hours in the night?” She giggled.

“I apologize, time difference is the one thing I’m afraid I cannot control,” he pauses briefly and takes notice of you “And this must be your daughter. My, what a striking resemblance to you Mrs. Ahn.” He remarked.

“Please, call me Hye Sook.” Your mother chuckled giving him a playful shove.

“Y/n,” said your father, “be respectful and greet our guests.” His tone was firm and commanding. You stepped forward, greeted them and introduced yourself. Sunghoon noticed your forced smile and how you closed off you were being. He also took note of your red rimmed eyes and slightly puffy face. Had you been crying? The evening was proving to be quite strange, if he was being honest. He couldn’t wait to get home after this. Your mother directed your little group to the dining room. Your father walked in step with Mr. Park and spoke to him in a low tone while gesticulating vehemently. This left you with who you assumed was Mr. Park’s son.

The two of you remained silent for a beat while you wondered to yourself why you didn’t just follow your family to the dining room, and why your feet still seemed rooted to the ground even despite thinking this. The tension was so thick and awkward. Sunghoon was the one to break it.

“Y/n, right?” He stretched out his hand which you took albeit hesitantly. “Sunghoon. Just realized I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself,” he chuckled. You must have been around his age. And while he wasn’t exactly on the hunt for new friends, it wouldn’t kill him to be friendly.

It didn’t work. You didn’t even smirk. It was obvious that there was something going on with you, but it felt out of his place to ask. But the way in which you now looked up at him with your round eyes made you look so vulnerable and docile. In a way, it made him squirm in fear that he might spill his darkest secrets if you asked him to. You were small in comparison to his height, so he still towered over you. His breath began to hitch as you blinked slowly, scrutinizing his features.

He was handsome, you could give him that. He had good bone structure and nice teeth which you took note of when he spoke. His hand felt slightly rough to the touch but not too much, an indication that he probably used them a lot. He had very faint eyebags around his eyes. Did he not get enough sleep? His gaze was sharp, and you cocked your head to the side as you lowered your eyes to his lips which parted slightly. You caught a whiff of cologne and whiskey from him. You were studying him, which made Sunghoon uncomfortable. His face contorted and his expression visibly hardened. He cleared his throat and spoke again.

“Uh…maybe we should follow after them.” He stepped back and towards the direction your parents had gone. You quickly fell into step with him as you both made your way. What the hell was that? Why did she look at me like that? What is wrong with this family? He racked his brain and wondered if he was missing something. He then concluded that he was either just exhausted or that there was something strange going on. The sound of voices of laughter poured out of the room and everyone seemed to be in high spirits. You followed behind Sunghoon and went to find your seat. Your parents were opening a bottle of champagne clearly in a celebratory mood. Again, you felt betrayed by their lack of empathy. You quickly shoved your feelings aside, deciding to pull yourself together. You sat in your usual seat only for your mother to tell you that you would be sitting on the opposite side of the table tonight, which put you on Sunghoon’s left while your father sat on his right.

Dinner went by fairly smoothly and by the time you were done with the entrée, your parents had managed to turn almost every conversation topic into talking about you and your achievements and talents. You didn’t even know they knew you like that. It was clear that they were trying to show you off to Sunghoon, to make him realize what a ‘catch’ you were. It was utterly humiliating to sit there and listen to them talk about you like that. Like they were describing the specs of a product to an interested customer.

While he appreciated the gesture that the Ahn’s were making, for whatever reason, Sunghoon was eager to continue his conversation with Mr. Ahn. The three parents were consuming the champagne at an alarming rate which made him anxious. He did not want to continue this conversation another time, or worse, have to come here again. They were now laughing over something his father had said, and he took that opportunity to bring them back to business discussions.

“Mr. Ahn,” he interrupted, tone clipped, “I believe we were in the middle of discussing how we at PTC can help you out of your predicament. I still have a lot of questions.” All attention shifted to Sunghoon, but he did not waver. Business was business after all, and he wanted it to be treated as such. They were behaving in a way that made him feel crazy for being the only one to want to take this seriously. You held your breath and took a sip of your water. Your father’s cheerful expression slowly fell, and he set down his glass with a chuckle.

 “Ah, always straight to the point,” he gave a slow nod, “I admire that. But tonight, it’s less about business and more about celebrating what’s to come.”

Sunghoon frowned and glanced around the table. “Celebrating? What exactly are we celebrating? Nothing’s been finalized yet.” His posture was rigid, with a tightness to it, like he was holding back from speaking his real thoughts.

“Oh, but it has, son,” Mr. Ahn retorted with an almost patronizing smile. “There’s more to this than just contracts and plans.”

You glanced sideways at the man seated beside you. His eyes narrowed and the cords of his neck became rigid. He was clearly not having it, and you had to give it to him for displaying such control. Your stomach tightened and churned in anticipation.

“Then perhaps you would like to explain, because I don’t recall to agreeing to anything yet.” Sunghoon continued.

The older man leaned forward, his elbows on the table. “You see,” he spoke as if recounting a fond memory, “your father and I have been connected for years—through friendship, through shared values. And when my company began facing some…challenges we knew we needed a solution that went beyond mere collaboration.”

“What kind of ‘solution’ are we talking about?” his voice was sharp. His forehead creased as he gazed at the man before him. Out of his periphery, he felt you shift beside him. He heard your breath hitch as though bracing yourself. Mr. Ahn gestured between him and you, and he felt his stomach drop.

“You and my daughter. A union that ensures not just our company’s safety but the strengthening of both our families’ legacies.”

You wanted to collapse. You fixed your gaze firmly on the tablecloth before you, not daring to look at Sunghoon who had turned to see your reaction. You hated every single moment of this. You felt helpless and defeated. This is my fault. This never would have happened if it weren’t for me. This is my karma.

Sunghoon turned back to the man with a scoff, “You’re joking.” He stated simply. He was either joking or just plain crazy. This whole family is full of retards.

Your father reached back for his glass an air of calmness around him. He was being very casual about this like he just successfully bargained on a pair of vintage shoes. “It’s already been agreed upon, young man,” he declared, “There’s a binding contract, with penalties for breach—20 billion won to be exact. The contract has already been signed…”

“Woah, wait a minute,” his voice was now rising, “what contract? You signed a contract? Without telling me? Without my consent?” He was speaking directly to his father now, enraged at this revelation.

It took you by surprise as well. Your mother hadn’t mentioned anything about a contract. Disdain with a mix of betrayal began to fill you. You glanced at your mother only to find her wearing an unimpressed expression as if she was bored by the topic of conversation.

“Now, now, let’s not overreact,” Mr. Park tried to calm his son down, “this is a strategic decision, one that benefits us all.”

You flinched as Sunghoon’s chair loudly scraped the floor as he stood abruptly. His anger bubbled over as he addressed his father. “Benefit? Who?” he turned to your father, “This only benefits you. Your company is failing, isn’t it? And this is your way of saving it—selling your daughter off like some corporate asset.”

You suddenly felt the urge to let him know that you weren’t in agreement with this either, “I had nothing to do with this.” Your voice trembling, but firm.

He whipped his head around. “Didn’t you? You have been sitting here quietly, going along with all of this. You’re just as manipulative as your parents.”

Words could not describe how offended and outraged you were at Sunghoon’s words. You cast him a smoldering gaze as you grit your teeth in rage.

“How dare you?” Your tone was icy as you stood. “You know nothing about me, and you certainly don’t know what I think about any of this! I didn’t ask for any of this!” you felt your face get hot like you were going to explode.

Sunghoon scoffed, incredulous, “Didn’t you? You’ve been sitting here, letting them speak for you. Don’t act like you’re not part of this.”

You began to feel the sting of tears once more and clenched your hands into fists. “How am I part of this? Do you think I wanted any of this? You think I want to marry a total stranger who clearly thinks so little of me?” you exclaimed, your voice rising in exasperation.

“You’re not exactly making it hard to think that. Sitting there, letting them dangle you like bait in front of me—what does that say about you?” his words cut through you with hostility. His own face had turned red, but Sunghoon was past trying to be polite by masking his emotions. This entire night had been a set up and he felt stupid for not having caught on earlier. What, did they expect him to be easygoing and accept their little arrangement? This was his life they were talking about.

Your voice was shaking with anger and hurt. “It says I’m trapped! And unlike you, I don’t get to storm out of deals I don’t like. I don’t get to live my life on my own terms.” You gestured towards your chest feeling your tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn’t miss the way your mother scoffed as she continued to watch the scene unfold before her eyes.

“Oh, spare me the sob story,” Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. He didn’t believe you for a second. “You’re just as complicit as your parents, playing along with this whole charade—”

“I am nothing like my parents!” you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “You don’t know me—you don’t know anything about me! All you’ve done is sit here and judge me as if you’re somehow above all this. Newsflash, you’re in it just as much as I am.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I ruin your perfect little arrangement?” he countered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You ran a hand through your hair making a mess of what it already was. You couldn’t care less about it. “You’re impossible!” you scoffed. “You think the world revolves around you and your precious work. You can’t even see that I hate this as much as you do.”

Sunghoon paused for a moment, genuinely taken aback. You took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to marry a man who sees me as nothing more than an extension of my parents’ schemes. And for the record, I’d never marry someone as arrogant and self-absorbed as you.”

Still angry, but faltering slightly, he watched you closely, pondering on what you just said. You were trapped. You hated this.

“Then why are you even here? Why haven’t you said anything to stop this?”

You turned to your parents, voice raw with emotion. “Because it doesn’t matter what I say! It never does!” Your mother sneered while your father avoided your gaze altogether. “I’m just a tool to you, aren’t I? Someone to pawn off for your convenience. Have you ever cared about what I want? About what this does to me?”

“Y/n, that’s enough! Stop embarrassing us.” Mrs. Ahn said coldly, giving Sunghoon an idea of the kind of relationship you had with her.

“You will do as you’re told. You will not speak to us like that.” Mr. Ahn’s tone was sharp and threatening causing a twinge of anger to bubble in his gut on your behalf.

Your shoulders slumped in defeat and your voice dropped into a whisper, “Why do I even bother? You’ll never listen.” Your eyes are mixed with hurt and defiance. “You already hate me so much.”

You glance at Sunghoon one more time, “Welcome to the family.” Your expression was that of anger and despair, like you had given up on this conversation, or on something else entirely. You walked out of the room, steps heavy as they echoed in the now silent dining room.

A tense silence followed. Only the soft tick of the clock that was at one end of the room and the sound of crickets outside could be heard. Mr. Park was the first to break the silence, his tone condescending as he spoke.

“She’s just emotional. You’ll see, with time—"

“With time?” Sunghoon turned on him, his tone cold and biting. “You think this will blow over? You’ve sunk to a new low. Using a sham like this to manipulate me into something I’d never agree to. You’re exactly the same as always, selfish and untrustworthy.”

Mr. Park’s tone hardened, “Watch your tone, Sunghoon.”

“No!” he cut him off, voice rising. “I’ve watched my tone my entire life. You’ve done nothing but disappoint me, and now you expect me to just go along with this insanity? You’re as horrible a father now as you were back then.”

Sunghoon turns to leave the room as well but not before casting a withering glare at your parents. “You deserve each other.” His voice dripped with disdain. Without another word, he storms out of the room grabbing his coat at the door.

✬ A/N: first written chapter woohoo! it's actually embarrassing how long this took to write. we finally get to know a little more about the characters personalities. i'm still trying to figure out how to work this app so forgive me if my layouts aren't so cute. i haven't posted in so long and unfortunately i can't promise it will get better anytime soon. i start my exams next week so i won't be working on this fic. still i wanted to get this first written chapter out of the way. please look forward to more. also let me know if i should make a taglist for this and then tell me HOW to do it lolll. n e ways reblogs, likes and feedback are highly appreciated. i would love to hear what you guys think is going to happen next. i hope you enjoyed!!! xx

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[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my November 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Next to your Heartbeat (where I should be) by jaded25 (130k)

"We were meant to be but a twist of fate made it so we had to walk away"

All it takes for them to fall in love is one night. All they have to do is wait one year to see each other again.

Yet, when Louis returns after his year abroad, the boy who's got his arms wrapped around Harry isn't him. It isn't a stranger either, which should make walking away all that easier. After all, friend's don't lust after their mate's boyfriends.

Technically, doing the right thing should be easy - but when has Louis ever been known to taking the easy way out?

To Haunt a Heart by etherealbliss / @givesuethemoon (110k)

A high-profile double homicide in the quiet, small town of Ashford, WA sends shockwaves through the public. Louis, the lead detective assigned to the case, is headstrong, earnest, and desperate to prove himself. Harry, the widow of one of the victims, is insufferably rich, wears far too many vintage dressing gowns, and is desperate to prove he’s not guilty.

Their desperation unexpectedly blossoms into something beautiful behind closed doors, amidst the ticking time bomb of a slowly unravelling mystery that the two soon find themselves deeply entwined in.

Where Words Fail, Music Speaks by Larry_you_know / @larryyouknow (45k)

Louis is a world class violinist. He’s one year over forty, living his best life in New York. One day, he comes to a small town in Connecticut where he inherited a house from his late father. The town looks nice and its people welcome him warmly. The problem is that Louis never knew his father and he doesn’t intend to change anything about it - his father can stuff his last will up his treacherous ass. In a strange coincidence, Louis meets town troubadour Harry, who seems wonderful to him just right until he reveals that Louis’ father was like a dad to him.

Even though Louis tries to convince himself that it shouldn’t - it hurts.

written for 1D Silver Fox Fest

Too Much, but It’s Enough by ohpleaselarry / @ohpleaselarry (40k)

There are about a thousand things Louis wishes he could go back in time and fix. A thousand things, and nearly all of them include Harry.

There are the more simple things, like showing him more support, telling him it’s okay to be himself, gently reminding him that a condom in his pocket is rather obvious in skinny jeans, but if he could just choose one thing, just one to change, he’d probably just have told the lad he loves him.

Always has. And always will.

Baby, What a Big Surprise by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou (33k)

As Harry settles into his seat, self-consciously adjusting his shirt over his slightly distended stomach, he can’t help but wonder how he got himself into all this. But he knows, of course he knows. It isn’t exactly easy to forget the moment that changed his entire life forever.

It all started with a party.

Or, the one where shy, quiet Harry has no idea he's a carrier, and a one night stand with the most popular boy in school shows him just how wrong he was.

Featuring Lottie as Harry's best friend, Niall as her boyfriend, and, of course, Louis as the popular boy with a soft spot for his little sister's quirky friend.

Into This Mess by crimsontheory / @ireallysawanangel (20k)

The first day of Louis’ promotion is going well, far better than he expected. That is until his new partner shows up, who just so happens to be the guy who stumbled half-dressed out of his flat that same morning.

Or the enemies to lovers detective AU.

Have Me And Hold Me by letsjustsee (8k)

His clumsy trips were now even more burdened by the sudden downpour. Twice he almost fell making his way back to the ceremony area, mostly due to his insistence on running across the lawn in between trips. The rain was relentless, coming at him from all angles with a deafening wind that muted everything outside of his own heavy breathing. He felt like he was making pretty good headway, all things considered. His pace was stalled only momentarily when, on his tenth or so trip, he thought about what someone looking out the window at that moment would see. Louis in his formal shirt and trousers, barefoot, stomping through the muddy lawn to gracelessly lug two chairs at a time towards the building.

Or, a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.

If We Make It Through December, We'll Be Fine by penceypansy / @penceypansy (8k)

A job promotion of his dreams, an eight month long distance relationship, a cancelled train, and an emotional misunderstanding - Louis is just trying to make it home for the holidays.

No Faith Left to Lose by louieshalo / @louieshalo (7k)

Louis shoves an album booklet — Harry’s album booklet — into Harry’s hands, folded open to a familiar page. “I need you to tell me that that goddamn song is not about me.” His voice cracks a little in his vehemence, and ice fills Harry’s veins as he glances down at the creased page.

He doesn’t need to look closely to know what it is Louis is talking about — the title is printed plainly on the page, Second Chances, along with every incriminating lyric, line by line. It’s his most blatant offense off the entire album, probably; sickeningly indulgent and too obviously vulnerable to even defend himself against. The song is a surface-level dip into the fantasy world Harry toys with when the ache of loneliness gets to be too much in the middle of the night, the brief glimpse already toeing over the boundary he’d promised himself he’d set for his career.

Most damning, though, is the tiny embossed dedication at the bottom of the page;

“For who I’d be if I wasn’t afraid,” Louis recites, looking expectantly at Harry. “What the fuck does that mean?

or, the one where they miss each other more than anything.

With You I Am Never Alone by LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) (6k)

Louis comes up with the idea of holding a Thanksgiving dinner for their families. Harry loves it. And him.

[classygreydove]

kkob/obkk fic recs

5 kkob fics that are criminally underrated - obv we all love rocks fall; scene end, Kamui Blues, and New Recruit, (if you haven't read those, I highly recommend them) but these works deserve some appreciation too!

kakaobi fluff series by Eye_like_trauma - 6k, ONGOING

G, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito. Just a lot of fluff, crushes, and pining.

[dove's notes: Every single on of these one-shots is just precious. And also makes me laugh so hard. Peak content for this ship.]

2. Hey, Wouldn't It Be Mortifying If We Both Survived This? by Eye_like_trauma - 4k, COMPLETE

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Kakashi & Minato & Rin & Obito. Kannabi fix-it, love confessions, feelings realization, first kiss, fluff and angst, hurt/comfort

Obito can’t hear anything beyond the cave crumbling around them, thousands of tons of rock cascading down and crushing everything it can. Can’t see beyond the dust in the air, the vibrations of the world around him. Couldn’t, anyway, because he can barely keep his eyes open. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispers into Kakashi’s hair. He knows Kakashi won’t hear him. Wouldn’t, even if he were conscious. That’s okay; the words are as much for him as they’re for Kakashi. He presses himself closer, focuses on the warmth of Kakashi as the world fades in and out, as every bit of remaining light is snuffed and he can feel debris falling on every side of them, huge and heavy and deadly, if they’re hit. He can’t feel Kakashi’s heart beat past the world falling in on itself, but he tells himself it’s there, tells himself that Kakashi’s not dead.

[dove's notes: literally my favorite confession fic. i laughed, cried a little, and felt many fuzzy feelings. bb tsundere kakashi is adorable.]

3. The Things We Found in the Ashes of Our World by shefrommo - 40k, ONGOING

M, Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sukea/Tobi, strangers to friends to enemies, identity shenanigans

Ironically enough, Kakashi didn't start having treasonous thoughts until after he'd already committed treason. __ Or, during a mission gone wrong, Kakashi discovers Obito's alive. He never comes back from that mission. Five years later, Team Seven stumbles across a pair of Akatsuki members--both of whom are working under false identities, both of whom were declared dead years ago.

[dove's notes: Incomplete, but so so good. Tobi and Sukea (and their headspaces) are both very well-written, as is the relationship chemistry. The identity shenanigans are great.]

4. Quiet Revolutions by Anjelle - 68K, ONGOING

T, No Archive Warnings Apply. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, Sakumo & Kakashi, Sakumo & Obito. Canon div, dogteeth!kk, Hidden Cloud Village worldbuilding, Identity Shenanigans, Secret Identity, anbu!obito, enemies to friends to lovers

Tensions are running high between Kumo and Konoha. Between the targeting of the Hyuga clan for their Byakugan and an unknown ANBU running interference on missions, their tentative alliance is strained and war is just one slip-up away. Not wanting any part in this, Obito is dragged into it anyway when he's given a mission to find out who instigated the attack. Instead, he gets more than he bargained for when a certain Kumo-nin lies in wait on the other side of Kamui. OR: Due to extenuating circumstances, Kakashi grows up in Kumo and decides that this strange, masked ANBU skulking around his village would make for a fun distraction from his boredom.

[dove's notes: I really enjoyed the dynamics here. obito is bamf but also an idiot. kakashi is bamf but also an idiot. so canon dynamic, pretty much. also identity intrigue, worldbuilding, this fic is full of good stuff.]

5. Truth and what it takes (and what it gives) - 11K, COMPLETE

M, Graphic Depictions of Violence. Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito, TW for mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, Hurt/Comfort, Blood & Gore

"Kakashi's pupils are wide and fixed, like those of dead animals. The Uchiha has never seen him with that expression before. Obito wonders if he’s dreaming it, then he notices the metallic edges around his frame. The sink. A mirror. He’s looking through Kakashi’s eyes."

[dove's notes: very good relationship study of obkk during kakashi's anbu era, and the writing style is riveting. Dark, so not for fluff fans.]

[friend-lover-traitor-narrator]

Okay, I totally see this. Hear me out.

Phoenix and Jake don't know each other before the apocalypse. They meet because of it.

Phoenix grown up and still living in a rather rural area. She's got everything under control. Gets by somehow. She's smart, intelligent. Hunts. Sells what she brings down and doesn't need for herself. She gets by but she's lonely. Most of the people in her area are dead, so is her family.

Jake, the city boy, but only on the surface. He's grown up in the countryside just like Phoenix but he hated it. Hides it whenever he can, has lived in the city for many years now. Had a big city job, jawyer, exchange trader, something like that, nothing that comes in handy during an apocalypse. He's essentially lost during. It's surprising that he's still alive really.

Phoenix hates Jake at first sight. Jake meets her and sees his chance to survive if he only manages to stay at her side and make her enjoy his company.

Strangers/enemies to (friends to) lovers

When the world ends, collect your things. You're coming with me.

[thisonesatellite]

tomorrow never knows - CH5

AO3

PAIRING: Steve /Bucky

SUMMARY:

In East Berlin around the late 60s /early 70s, KGB Asset 3B-1 is tasked with eliminating a subject, but his personal equipment malfunctions and the whole thing gets switched to recon and this is how Asset 3B-1 finds himself watching a hapless artist sleep, mostly. But this is the heyday of spies and corruption and nothing ever being what it seems, and so Things Happen. Plot and action and secrets and lies Happen. Until of course the truth comes out, the way it always does. Because at the core of this are Bucky and Steve, as always---idiots who are being the most idiotic idiots about everything, especially each other.

A/N: i AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG.

i may or may not have melted down several times during the course of writing this because there were moments, many moments, when i felt like this was never going to come together.

The reason it did come together is @booksandabeer, period. BECAUSE SHE IS AMAZING and can lead you out of every plot hole and character wobble like it's not even hard.

And also @bittersweet-in-boston for what i can only call anticipatory patience and support, @hanitrash for impatient supportive support, and also @sparkagrace for shouty loving support, all of which i love to distraction, so there.

ANYWAY.

Here's where you find out some Stuff. Finally.

[paintedcrows]

Whenever Bill sees KingOfNJ's fics through Stan's eyes he just thinks they have the same taste in fanfiction (disgusting. unthinkable) continued

[me-writes-prompts]

-:“We just got together but I already love them” Wholesome new couple prompts:-

(AHH I RANDOMLY GOT THIS IDEA AND HAD TO DO IT. please tag me if you write any of these :’)

By @me-writes-prompts

“Can I…may I hug you?” They ask softly, when you’re done ranting about an exhausting day you had. (🥺❤️‍🩹)

Planning a picnic and making them food even if you’re an amateur cook, in hopes you’ll impress them more🫶🏽

^^ “Did you make this?” “Yes…is it not good? I’m sorry.” “No, no. It’s good, heck, it’s great!”

The way their eyes light up when their partner comes to them.

Leaving little notes by their bedside with a kiss on their forehead. AHHH

“Ok…so, umm I made this playlist for our first month anniversary. I hope it’s not too bad!” “Omg, this is- I can’t believe it! I always wanted someone to make me a playlist!”

Getting them way too many gifts for their birthday.

“Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, baby.”

The little kisses they share throughout their day, and getting absolutely flustered over it because it’s all so new

Cuddle session every. Other. Night.

Cooking their favorite meal together

Constant compliments and the little things they notice about each other as they grow together

Baking cookies for their families as it’s their first Christmas!

^^ “Your cookie looks better than mine!” “No, your does!” “No, yours!” “No-” And they just pull them in a kiss to shut them up with a smile already forming on their lips.

[vodid]

thinking about how optimus and megatron don't even know each other's new names in the final battle of tf one. they are now functionally complete strangers. to optimus, he doesn't recognize his best friend. whoever that mech is, is not d-16. and to megatron, it may not even matter. all optimus is to him now is a prime. an enemy.

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: Rival Dungeons and Dragons reader who has a tournament and ends up without clothes. Oops…

word count: 6,6k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, unprotected sex, asphyxiation, bad language, cumming inside, female masturbation, culilingus.

a/n: hey lol, i wrote this half asleep so idk how it turned out, i'll see if it's any good or not later, so if there is something wrongly translated or that you don't find makes sense, pls let me know, hugs!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

masterlist

part 2 !!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

The Sith Order.

All the members of the Hellfire Club and your group, The Sith Order, maintained a cordial and mutually respectful relationship, with the exception of the tense rivalry between you and the opposing leader, the insufferable Eddie. You hated him so much, especially now that you had bet your grand dice, which your brother had given you as a gift.

The abandoned cabin loomed like a shadow among the trees of the forest, a forgotten refuge that now housed your group of friends and your imaginary adventures. Inside, the air was filled with a smell of dampness and earth, a constant reminder of nature reclaiming its space. The once cozy and lived-in furniture was now covered in a layer of dust and cobwebs that wove complex patterns in every corner.

The sofa, your throne, was worn out, with upholstery torn in several places, revealing the crumbling yellowed foam at the touch. Dark stains of time adorned the fabric, and every time you moved, a cloud of dust rose like a sigh from the cabin itself. Sitting there, on your stomach, with a furrowed brow and crossed arms, you couldn't help but feel the rough and cold texture of the sofa against your skin, a reminder of your recent defeat in the game.

Around you, the tables wobbled on uneven legs, their surfaces scratched and marked with circles from past glasses. The faded and torn curtains hung sadly from the windows, allowing dim light to filter in and illuminate the dust particles in the air. The floor creaked under the weight of footsteps, and each floorboard seemed to tell a story of abandonment.

In this space, time seemed to have stopped, and every object told the story of a better past now eclipsed by neglect and desolation.

You felt as if a storm was brewing inside you, a mixture of frustration and challenge that consumed you as you sat on the sofa. The defeat in the friendly game was a thorn in your pride, a small battle lost in a war that seemed to extend beyond the game of dragons and dungeons. The rivalry with the Hellfire Club and its leader, Eddie, was the real dragon to be defeated, and every thought of him fueled the flames of your resentment.

Eddie, with his arrogant smile and his ability to bring out the best in his players, had become the antagonist not only in the game, but in your mind and life. You imagined him, with his tousled hair and carefree attitude, as the perfect villain for your campaign, one who seemed to enjoy every time his group came out victorious. The idea that he might consider your defeat as a point in his favor was unbearable.

While your friends continued with the campaign, laughing, stressed, focused, and rolling dice, you immersed yourself in your thoughts, planning your next move. It was not just a matter of winning a game; it was a matter of honor, of proving that your group could overcome any challenge, even the infamous Hellfire Club. Determination began to replace frustration, and although you still felt the bitterness of defeat, there was now a new goal on the horizon: to defeat Eddie and prove that your group was the best in the fantasy game.

But... were you really prepared for tonight?

...

Eddie, with a sly smile and a spark of malice in his eyes, steps forward to greet you in the lair of the Hellfire Club, the basement of the institute, the setting of countless campaigns and now the battlefield of your latest challenge. As the girls from your club gather in the space, filled with detailed maps and meticulously painted character figures, Eddie focuses on you, his most formidable rival.

"Welcome, oh great 'Mialee!'" he exclaims with an exaggeratedly theatrical and ironic tone, making a reference to the elven mage character to underline his mockery. "I hope your spells are as sharp as your tongue this time, and that your strategies are less predictable than your expressions of defeat."

You can feel the gaze of the others on you, some with complicit smiles and others with cautious curiosity. Eddie continues, not missing the opportunity to poke at your pride: "I hope you brought your Dragon Crystal Die, because something tells me you're going to need all the luck you can get."

The lair resonates with the stifled laughter of the club members, and although you know that Eddie's words are part of the rivalry game, you also feel that each joke is a challenge to your skill and determination. With a firm gaze and unwavering resolve, you prepare to show that this battle will be different, that this time, Eddie will be the one left speechless at the end of the night.

"You are living proof that not everything that glitters in a treasure is gold, and in your case, it's not even copper," you say, challenging him as you look him in the eyes. With a confidence that resonates in every word, you confront Eddie, your eyes shining with the reflection of the candles that illuminate the basement. "I hope you haven't forgotten your part of the bet, Eddie," you say with a firm and clear voice that cuts through the tension in the room. "That Orb of Entwined Destinies you so proudly show off will be mine before the moon reaches its zenith."

The Orb of Entwined Destinies was a perfect sphere of dark crystal, with a core that seemed to contain a miniature nebula, ever-changing and slowly rotating. It was more than just an object for Eddie; it was a symbol of his ability to manipulate probabilities and destiny within the game.

The mention of the orb makes Eddie's smile falter for a moment, a crack in his facade of confidence. You know you have hit a sensitive point, reminding him that you are not the only one with something valuable at stake. "Get ready, Eddie," you continue, "because when I'm done with you and the Hellfire Club, that orb will be the trophy of The Sith Order, and your luck will change forever," you spit, leaving the boys dumbfounded, unlike his group of friends, as they were used to this kind of speech.

Lucas, with a carefree smile and a tone bordering on disbelief, tries to lighten the atmosphere that has built up in the room. "Come on, guys, don't you realize? It's just a dumb bet, right? There's no need to turn this into an epic battle or something..." he comments, his voice a thread of sanity in the tapestry of rivalry unfolding before him.

However, his attempt to lighten the mood is quickly quashed by a severe look from both leaders, who in a rare moment of unity gesture to him with a stern gesture and an almost synchronized "Shh!" The seriousness of their bet is not something they are willing to downplay, even with Lucas' playful interjection.

The battle between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club unfolds in a fantasy world woven with the magic of dragons and dungeons, but the tension is as real as the beating hearts of the players. The room, illuminated by the flickering light of the candles, has transformed into an epic battlefield where each roll of the dice resonates like the clash of swords.

The Sith Order bravely faces the challenges posed by Eddie and his Hellfire Club. The dice roll on the table like distant thunder, dictating the fate of heroes and villains alike. You, The Sith Order, with characters ranging from cunning rogues to powerful sorceresses, maneuver through traps and puzzles that Eddie has crafted with malicious skill. The battle intensifies, with each strategic move and each spell cast adding layers to the unfolding narrative. Your characters fight hordes of infernal creatures, cross dark abysses, and decipher ancient codices to unravel the secrets that will lead them to victory.

As the night progresses, a tie seems imminent. The Hellfire Club has countered every attack, every plan, with a precision bordering on the supernatural. But you, with your leading character, are not willing to give up. With a mix of cunning and a bit of luck, you roll the dice for one last masterful play. Silence fills the room as the dice roll, dancing on the edge of the abyss between victory and defeat. Finally, they settle, and the numbers they show are the harbinger of a tide change. Your play has been successful, overcoming the defenses of the Hellfire Club and securing an unexpected triumph.

Eddie, with a look of genuine astonishment, acknowledges the victory of The Sith Order, albeit reluctantly. You, with a smile of satisfaction, accept the Orb of Entwined Destinies, now rightfully yours.

Amidst the euphoria of victory, one of the girls from your group, with a contagious smile and an overflowing energy, suggests an idea that captures everyone's attention. "How about we celebrate with some pizzas? It would be great to relax and enjoy the moment," she says enthusiastically.

The idea is met with a mix of nods and smiles. It is a comfortable and familiar proposition, a perfect way to lower the intensity of the night and simply enjoy each other's company. Everyone, except you and Eddie, seems to agree. The tension of the battle still clings to you, and the idea of sharing a table with Eddie and his club, even in a neutral and friendly environment, is something that you find hard to accept, just like Eddie.

However, aware that rejecting the offer could be seen as poor sportsmanship, both of you reluctantly agree with a gesture of resignation. "Fine, but only because I'm hungry," you murmur, trying to hide your reluctance behind a practical excuse. Eddie nods silently, his serious expression revealing his reluctant agreement.

And so, with victory still fresh and emotions running high, the group sets off to share a meal that promises to be as full of flavor as it is of interesting dynamics.

The night has slipped into a soft twilight when everyone, now relieved of the tension of the game, finds themselves in Eddie's van. The space is filled with laughter and the sound of bottles clinking together. "Cheers!" the group shouts for the sixth time, raising their beers in the air in a toast that has become a ritual.

Eddie's van, with its worn seats, stickers, dirt, and windows displaying the world passing by at high speed, has become a temporary sanctuary of camaraderie. With each new "Cheers!", the barriers between The Sith Order and the Hellfire Club seem to dissolve a little more, erased by the alcohol and the shared joy. Or so it seems...

Eddie's van snakes along the road, a lonely path flanked by the silhouette of trees gently swaying under the starry sky. In the front seats, silence between Eddie and you is a marked contrast to the bustle that reigns in the back, where the rest of the group sings enthusiastically game anthems, interspersed with laughter and the sound of opening beers.

You, with crossed legs and a beer can resting in your hands, get lost in contemplation of the nature that unfolds before your eyes. The moonlight bathes the landscape, transforming each tree and bush into dancing shadows that play hide and seek with each turn of the road.

Eddie, with his attention focused on the road, drives with a slowness that seems to respect the shared silence. His profile stands out against the occasional glow of distant street lamps, and although you are together in the cabin, an abyss of unspoken words stretches between you.

"Hey..." Eddie's voice breaks the silence, a word hanging in the air that seems to wait for permission to continue. He does not look away from the road, as if fearing that a moment of distraction could reveal more than he intends.

You turn your head towards him, an eyebrow arched in a mixture of surprise and curiosity. It is strange, this attempt at conversation. Outside the game, words between you have been as scarce as leaves in winter. You have never crossed more than strategies and challenges, and now, this attempt at dialogue seems as out of place as a barbarian in a library.

The tension between you is palpable, a taut thread that is woven with each kilometer the van devours. What words will follow that "hey"? Will it be an attempt at a truce, or perhaps the prelude to another challenge? Time seems to stand still as you wait for Eddie to continue, and in that moment, the van is not just a moving vehicle, but a space where two rivals might, just maybe, begin to see each other as something more.

"No... no, nothing. Forget it..." he murmurs softly, not taking his eyes off the road, but now looking more tense, sighing.

You decide not to insist, but this time not averting your gaze from those long locks, but discreetly examining them for some kind of response.

Eddie's van glides to a smooth stop in front of a caravan. As he turns off the engine, Eddie's expression transforms. The seriousness that marked his face during the journey gives way to a genuine smile, an open invitation to continue the night in a space that is as much a part of him as the game they both love. "Come on, guys! The party continues at my place!" he exclaims with enthusiasm, his voice resonating with the promise of more laughter and memories to be created. "We can drink as much as we want, and if anyone's interested, there's weed too. My uncle works nights, so we have the place to ourselves."

Friends and friends respond with a chorus of approval, their stumbling steps and complicit smiles sealing the tacit agreement to extend the celebration. One by one, they enter the caravan, a cozy space illuminated by dim lights and adorned with mementos from trips and caps. A bit messy, but cozy.

You, with a mix of caution and curiosity, are the last to cross the threshold. Your eyes meet Eddie's, and for a moment, the outside world fades away. Eddie closes the door behind you, a simple gesture but loaded with meaning. You stand there, still, remembering the unfinished conversation, the words that Eddie left hanging in the air.

Feeling the weight of the night and the looks charged with unanswered questions, you decide to join the group that has settled in the caravan. You grab a few more beers, your hand brushing against the cold surface of the can, and sit at one end of the narrow sofa from where you can observe the scene. Eddie, on the other hand, seems different tonight. The usual arrogance that characterizes him has given way to an unusual stillness, almost reflective. Was defeat the cause of this change? Or was there something deeper behind his silence?

With each passing minute, glances between you meet like swords in a silent duel, full of questions that neither of you dares to voice aloud. After an hour of this game of looks, you feel the need to escape, if only for a moment, from the intensity of the atmosphere.

"Where is the bathroom?" you ask, your voice strangely formal in the relaxed atmosphere. Eddie points to a small hallway at the back, and you get up, navigating the space filled with laughter and conversations until you reach the bathroom.

Inside, you find yourself facing the mirror, your reflection returning an image of someone who seems to be on the border between two worlds. You wet the back of your neck, not wanting to ruin your makeup, and step out, feeling refreshed but still restless.

As you pass through the narrow exit of the bathroom, you collide with the partially open door of Eddie's room, and curiosity gets the better of you. You discreetly peek inside, your eyes scanning the space that is so intimately his. The room is adorned with posters of rock bands, metal, clothes everywhere, magazines scattered on the floor, and action figures of fantasy heroes, a mix of passions that reveal facets of Eddie that you had never considered. On the bed lies an open diary with scribbles and handwritten notes.

Eddie, with his carefree smile, leans against the doorframe, watching you with curiosity as you try to process the mess. "What are you doing here?" he repeats, his voice gentle but clearly amused by your confused expression. The scent of marijuana is evident, and his eyes, although red, gleam with a mischievous spark. He seems not to mind in the least your presence in his personal sanctuary. You feel like an intruder in an unknown world, every object in the room telling a story that only Eddie knows. However, he, with that calm bordering on indifference, gestures for you to enter. "Come, I'll show you my collection," he says casually, and suddenly, the place transforms. What was chaos before now seems like an art gallery, each hanging T-shirt, each vinyl, and each magazine clipping is a piece of his identity. He guides you through his space, narrating anecdotes of concerts and trips, his voice a thread weaving a tapestry of lived experiences.

The initial embarrassment fades away, replaced by fascination at discovering the depth of Eddie's personality. And as he shares his world with you, the messy room becomes a map of his personal universe, a place that, despite the disorder, now makes sense.

As you survey the room with your gaze, something catches your attention and takes your breath away: a proudly displayed B.C. Rich guitar hanging on the wall.

It is a red and shiny beauty, with its aggressive shapes and air of mystery, a piece that any metal lover would desire. Your heart beats with excitement, not only because of the surprise of finding such a treasure in Eddie's room, but because metal is your passion, one of the many things you have in common with Eddie without even knowing it, a detail he is unaware of.

He notices your excitement and, with a mischievous smile, takes down the guitar and hands it to you. "It's all yours, at least for now," he says with a wink. You hold it in your hands with reverence, feeling the weight of the wood and the coldness of the metal.

With shyness but moved by the emotion, you ask Eddie to play something. He shrugs, regretting the lack of an amplifier, but he is not discouraged. With a mischievous smile, he starts "playing" the guitar silently, mimicking the sounds with his mouth. It's a parody, but there is something about his attitude that invites you to play along.

"Come on, guess which song this is," he challenges you, as he moves his fingers in the air and imaginary sounds of a song fill the room. You concentrate, trying to follow the rhythm and melody that Eddie creates. The silent notes seem to come to life, and suddenly, you recognize it. It's 'Time Is Right' by Whitesnake.

Laughter fills the room as you guess it, and Eddie nods approvingly. "I knew you were one of mine, babe," he says, and in that moment, the guitar is not just an instrument, but a bridge between two souls who share a hidden passion for metal and many other things.

A blush creeps up your cheeks, an unexpected warmth that takes you by surprise. The word "babe" resonates in your ears, a term so casual and yet, loaded with an intimacy you did not expect. It feels as if you are inside the pages of one of those erotic books your mother used to read in secret, where the protagonists, initially at odds, end up wrapped in a story of love and rough sex.

Eddie's gaze has become more intense, his eyes no longer just reflecting the reddish glow of a pot smoker, but also a different glow, deeper, provoked by your presence. There is something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel like you are the only person in the world at that moment, but at the same time, as if he is undressing you.

You find yourself returning his gaze, unable to look away from his eyes. There is a connection, an unspoken understanding that seems to transcend words. And while a part of you wants to laugh at the situation, at how absurd it is to feel like a character in a pornographic novel, you cannot deny the electricity in the air, that spicy tension that hangs between the two of you.

Eddie takes a step towards you, his proximity overwhelming, and although he does not say anything more, he doesn't need to. Words are unnecessary when the looks speak for themselves. And in that instant, in that messy room that smells of marijuana and freedom, you understand that sometimes, real life can be as surprising and exciting as the stories hidden within the pages of a book.

After that moment, the room seems smaller, as if the walls had closed in to witness the silence shared between you. You decide to break the tension with a nervous smile and a change of subject. "Hey... what did you want to ask me before, you know, in the van?" you ask, stuttering slightly as you feel Eddie's scent filling your nostrils.

Eddie leaned against the threshold of the door, just inches away, watching your lips adorned with an intense crimson and your lined eyes attentively. "Ah, that..." he wondered, feigning forgetfulness. "I think I wanted to say something about Dungeons and Dragons, right?" he inquired with irony, biting his lip as he laughed and crossed his arms.

None of this compared to the fantasies you had with Eddie. Let's admit it, you had imagined countless similar scenarios, all related to the game and its protagonist, Eddie. You had wished for him to touch you in the same way he caresses his guitar. You wanted to be that fucking guitar.

"I don't think I want to talk about that right now..." you whispered, slowly moving closer to Eddie, who raised an eyebrow and smiled widely, catching your hint.

"Well then, if you don't want to listen to me, why don't you shut me up?" he whispered near your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. He grabbed your belt, holding your short denim skirt, forcing you to be pressed against him. "I said, why don't you shut me up..."

Eddie played dirty even outside of his character. He wanted you to take the initiative, perhaps to mock you or further feed his ego, but you wouldn't allow that to happen. With confidence, you ran your tongue over your lips and approached his neck, whispering, "I don't plan on silencing you. I enjoy listening to you and narrating each campaign..." This excited him, caressing your shoulder and getting closer, causing your breasts to press against him, eliciting a reaction in his groin. "Then, shut me up. I know you've wanted to since you met me," you whispered, trying to provoke him, with some success.

He responded by pushing you against the wall, trapping you between it and his body, placing his thigh between yours and gripping your waist tightly, feeling the coldness of his rings against your bare skin. "What I've wanted since I met you is to fuck you on the Harken map, so that your screams scare away the undead lurking there..." he muttered with a deep voice, softly kissing your collarbone, causing a sigh to escape your lips. With captivating slowness, Eddie guides his lips to yours, each movement deliberate and filled with anticipation. When they finally meet, the kiss is like an explosion of fire, burning and passionate. His lips sink into yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless, and his tongue boldly slides in to explore every corner of your mouth from the very first moment.

As your lips entwine in a sensual dance, his hands find your breasts with a firmness that surprises and excites you at the same time. The pressure of his hands cupping your breasts sends a wave of pleasure through your body, making you involuntarily shudder at the intense and unfamiliar sensation. You never expected this reaction, but you find yourself completely captivated by the desire that Eddie awakens in you, leaving you craving more of his passionate touch.

Eddie suddenly stops, his fingers noticing the absence of the bra he expected to find. A mischievous spark shines in his eyes as he looks at you with a mixture of surprise and desire. With a naughty smile on his lips, he whispers in your ear in a seductive tone, "Wow, looks like the girl comes with nothing...," murmuring with a hoarse voice, his warm breath sending shivers down your naked skin. His comment, though bold, is imbued with an irresistible sensuality that makes you blush and feel even more drawn to him. It feels like you're in a scene taken straight from one of those forbidden novels your mother used to find in the library, but this time, you're the protagonist, enveloped in the heat of shared desire with Eddie.

With expert dexterity, Eddie deepens the kiss, intensifying each brush of his lips against yours. As his tongue explores yours with unrestrained passion, his thigh slides and exerts pressure between yours, finding its way under your denim skirt, lifting it almost completely, hitting just that sensitive spot that makes your whole body react instantly.

"Mhmmm..." an involuntary moan escapes your lips as you feel the perfectly placed pressure of his thigh against you, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You feel the need to ride that leg. You were very wet at that moment, so the touch was making you even wetter.

He moves it with precision between yours, creating a delicious friction that awakens sensations that make you gasp against his lips. Each movement is calculated, designed to provoke maximum pleasure, as his thigh finds that sensitive spot on your body, sending waves of excitement through you.

"You've got me so hard..." with a throaty whisper, he makes you aware of the effect you have on him, sending a thrill of excitement down your spine. His warm breath against your lips only increases the intensity of the moment. You feel your heart pounding hard as you let yourself be carried away by the passion swirling around you. Then, with seductive skill, he leans slightly down, his strong hands gripping the bottom of your thighs to open you up and wrap around his waist. The change in position allows his bulge to press directly against your underwear, which is exposed by the previous lifting of your skirt. A wave of desire surges through your being as you feel his prominence brushing directly against your sensitive and swollen clit, sending sparks of pleasure that seem to electrify every fiber of your being.

The movements of his hips are precise and deliberate, each delicious brush torturous while engulfing you deeper into the abyss of pleasure. The sounds of your ragged breathing blend with the seductive whispers and soft moans escaping between hot kisses. You are completely at the mercy of the passion Eddie unleashes in you, lost in the whirlwind of overwhelming sensations that threaten to consume you completely.

The barely contained moan escapes your lips between kisses as you feel Eddie's gentle hip movement, a movement that sends you soaring to the heights of pleasure. Still with your thighs tightly wrapped around his hips, you give in to a wild and passionate kiss, with an intensity that defies any limit.

The kiss becomes a whirlwind of unabated passion, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you let yourself be carried away by the overwhelming sensations. Amidst the heat of the moment, you feel Eddie release one of your legs, changing the dynamics of the position and making you feel his bulge even more. Now, in this new position, the contact with his clothed cock is even more evident, causing you to instinctively arch your hips towards him, seeking more contact, more friction. You feel his hands grip your buttocks firmly, aggressively pressing you against his jeans, as if he is eager to feel you even closer.

The brushes and hip movements become increasingly intense, a symphony of pleasure that seems to have no end. You are completely immersed in the moment.

"Mmhm... fuck..." Between moans escaping your lips, accompanied by the sensual movements of your hips, Eddie suddenly stops, only to turn off the bedroom light and then guides you, still with your body on top of his, to his disheveled bed. He places you on your back on the tousled sheets, and positions himself above you, burning desire reflected in his gaze as he begins to explore your neck with hot kisses and licks. Each touch of his tongue against your skin awakens an electric sensation that makes you tremble with pleasure. His expert hands play with your nipples from inside your top, squeezing and teasing them while his thighs continue to exert delicious pressure on your intimate area, making you gasp with each movement, holding onto his back.

Slowly, your rival moves down your body with controlled impatience, licking and kissing your abdomen eagerly before quickly lifting your top and leaving you exposed before him. His lips find your breasts, and he kisses and licks them with devotion, as if they are the most delicious thing he has ever tasted. His long hair sometimes gets tangled in his face, but when you start gently tugging on it for pleasure, he moves away, leaving behind an incredibly enticing scene that makes you arch your hips forward instinctively.

While Eddie continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his hands begin to explore above your underwear with his ring finger, stroking gently from top to bottom. "Do you like it like this?" he asks between kisses and licks, asking you with a husky voice if you're enjoying yourself, establishing an intimate and desire-filled dialogue that only increases the sexual tension between you. "Or is it better like this?" he increases the speed of his touch.

Your silence prompts Eddie to grab your chin firmly, his fingers exerting a dominant and sexual pressure as he forces you to look into his eyes. When you finally respond to his question with an intense gaze, he slowly releases you, going back down to give attention to your body. His lips find your panties, and he kisses and licks them eagerly, soaking them with his saliva mixed with your own excited wetness.

With precise and deliberate movements, Eddie slowly pulls down your panties, placing soft kisses on your inner thigh as he slides them down your legs. Once he has removed your panties, his eyes meet your exposed, naked, and wet pussy, and he can't help but feel his cock throbbing with an unprecedented intensity, eager to satisfy the burning desire between them. You feel incredibly exposed under his heated gaze, but Eddie sees you as a work of art, a sight that excites him to the limit. Without wasting time, Eddie gives you a generic lick to your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers to access your exposed clit directly. An overwhelming moan escapes your lips at the wave of pleasure that courses through your body, but Eddie quickly covers your mouth, whispering that you can't moan to avoid being heard in the common area where the others are.

With a mischievous smile on his face, Eddie realizes that the loud music has concealed any sound that would have revealed their activities in the bedroom. With your mouth still covered, he delves into the task with renewed eagerness, licking and sucking your clit with an intensity that makes your body arch in response. Each suck and each lick sends waves of pleasure through you, taking you to the edge of ecstasy over and over again. Your hips move instinctively in response to the overwhelming pleasure, but Eddie firmly controls them, maintaining a rhythm that takes you closer and closer to the precipice of pleasure. With an expert hand, he begins caressing your abdomen, slowly descending until reaching your clit, parting his mouth for a moment to touch it with his fingers before inserting two of them without any prior preparation.

The sudden stimulus causes your eyes to roll back, and your thighs tighten with force from the pleasure that overwhelms you, arching your back and moving your hips towards the direction of the long-haired person. In a short time, Eddie goes back to action, losing himself between your thighs as he continues moving his fingers with unwavering determination.

He continues like this for a few minutes, not stopping for a moment, until you feel that you're about to reach climax. You grab his hair with incredible strength, almost burying your fingers in its roots, urging him to continue, feeling like you're about to burst in his mouth. But just as you're on the edge of orgasm, he pulls away from you, leaving a thread of saliva mixed with your wetness as a separation between his mouth and your pussy, leaving you in a state of uncontrollable anticipation and desire.

Eddie, eager to satisfy his burning desire, hastily fumbles with his zipper and unleashes his erect cock, ready for action. Eddie's cock, although of average size, has a peculiarity that sets it apart: a curved shape that gives it a unique and distinctive appearance. Its thickness is notable, and the veins that run along its length add texture to its look. The skin that covers it has a pink tone, with a reddish hue indicating the excitement that engulfs it. A slightly glistening liquid adorns its tip. It is an image that reflects virility and desire, a promise of intense pleasure about to be unleashed.

"How does this look, huh?" he moves it, noticeably sensitive, gently rubbing it against your clit, giving you a mischievous look as if he's playing a game with you. Without warning, after lightly masturbating it, he quickly and decisively inserts it into you, completely surprising you and leaving you breathless. "Mhmmm..." he sighs deeply, as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, arching his head backward. From the very first second, he begins to thrust into you with a dizzying rhythm, penetrating you deeply over and over again. You are overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure that engulfs you, unable to articulate a single word as you completely surrender to the wild thrusts of the guy. Each thrust hits your insides with overpowering force, sending waves of ecstasy through your body.

Despite the initial discomfort from the lack of preparation, you find yourself immersed in a whirlwind of sensations that make you lose track of time and space.

You writhe under him, unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips as you completely surrender to the frenzied pleasure that consumes you. Although it hurts, you can't help but enjoy every thrust, every touch of his skin against yours ignites a burning fire inside you.

He grabs you by the neck with a firm but dominant hand, stopping any sound that could escape your lips. His warm breath brushes against your ear as he whispers with a husky and authoritative voice, "Shut up." The words, loaded with desire and determination, send a shiver down your spine, leaving you breathless and obedient to his command. You are completely surrendered to him, unable to do anything but obey his orders as you let yourself be carried away by the frenzied passion that burns between you. The orgasm that you had almost experienced less than a minute ago begins to resonate through your body again, but the intensity of Eddie's thrusts makes you feel like you're on the verge of a great climax. You are completely overwhelmed by the avalanche of sensations that envelop you, unable to resist the tide of pleasure that drags you into an endless abyss of ecstasy. Your increasingly intense and uncontrolled moans blend with the background music, creating a symphony of pleasure and ecstasy that fills the room. Eddie, releasing his hand from your neck, begins to hit your thigh and butt with a mixture of desire and unbridled passion. As he continues to thrust into you with force, his lascivious words fill the air, whispering in your ear with a deep and seductive voice.

He tells you how much he has wanted to fuck that pussy of yours, expressing his most intimate desires with an exciting crudeness that makes you shiver with pleasure. He calls you a slut with a tone of desire and adoration, celebrating your sexuality and the way you grip his cock with every thrust. Those words, charged with lust and desire, only increase the intensity of the moment, pushing you closer to climax with each word that comes out of his mouth.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, every thrust of Eddie sending waves of pleasure through your body. He perceives it too, thanks to the way your pussy grips his cock, and he lets out a guttural grunt of satisfaction. You're on the edge of the abyss, about to let the ecstasy completely envelop you, while Eddie's lascivious moans and words push you towards the most glorious climax you've ever experienced

You feel the ecstasy completely enveloping you, a overwhelming wave of pleasure that shakes you to your core. Your walls contract tightly around Eddie's cock, squeezing with an intensity that makes him moan with pleasure. "Damn, you're so tight..."

Your body trembles uncontrollably, your eyes rolling back in your head as a guttural groan escapes from your lips, louder and more heartbreaking than ever before.

However, before you can fully recover from your orgasm, Eddie aggressively grabs you by the throat again, his expression a wild mix of concentration, excitement, and a hint of anger. With notable abruptness, he continues fucking with a renewed ferocity, as if taking revenge for something, but this time he has absolute control. The sensation of being taken with such force awakens a wild fire inside you, a overflowing passion that mixes with pain and pleasure in a symphony of indescribable sensations. You are completely immersed in the erotic game between you and Eddie, each thrust taking you further into the abyss of shared desire.

Thegame is now tied, each one taking the lead at different moments. You feel Eddie moaning with an unusual intensity, sensing that he's about to reach climax. You want to warn him not to come inside, but your throat is blocked by Eddie's firm hand, keeping you from articulating any words. A slight shiver runs through his body when he perceives your attempt to communicate your desire, but it's too late.

With a few final shaky thrusts, Eddie gives in to the avalanche of pleasure, releasing his hot and trembling liquid inside you. You accept his release without reserve, watching Eddie's expression as he does so. His face shows an unusual vulnerability, with arched eyebrows and a lost look somewhere in the room. His slightly parted lips release his moans of pleasure, and his hands grip your hips tightly, as if clinging to you for support.

After Eddie releases his liquid inside you, he slowly retreats and lies down by your side. Both of you remain staring at the ceiling, and suddenly, a nervous and uncontrollable laughter overwhelms you. Eddie looks at you strangely and asks what's happening. Between laughs, you respond that you just imagined that all of this was one of his campaigns, a kind of joke or experiment designed to test your limits and reactions. The surprise on Eddie's face turns into a knowing smile when he realizes that you have disarmed the tension of the moment with your humorous comment. Both of you give in to laughter, releasing the accumulated tension and sharing a moment of complicity after the unrestrained passion you just experienced together. It's an unexpected and light ending to an intimate and passionate encounter.

[brairslair]

(i debated whether or not to ask this anonymously)

so yknow how eddie has a W.A.S.P pin on his vest? can you plz write an eddieXreader scene inspired by their song

Animal (F*** Like A Beast) ?

😅😊

i absolutely love this reqqq, tysm for letting me run with this! hope you like how it turned out @nerdyhooker

Like an Animal - E.M.

18+ ONLY (minors please dni)

a/n: finally figured out an idea i liked for this, and i think it turned out pretty good! although i may have gotten a bit carried away lmao. not sure if this is as rough as you might have had in mind, but i tried to pull as much from the lyrics as possible! i hope you like what i ended up with <3

wc: 5.8k

cw: eventual smut, fem!reader, bartender!eddie + english teacher!reader, kinda fuckboy eddie vibes?, enemies to lovers vibes, light bondage (handcuffsss), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not do this), oral (fem receiving), pet names (princess, sweetheart, honey, baby), technically drinking and driving, smoking (cigs + i don’t smoke so idfk what i’m talking about), brat reader but she gets super subby, kinda mean but soft dom eddie?, light dacryphilia, these idiots have been head over heels for each other since high school and neither of them knew it bc they’re stupid and stubborn, extremely vague mention of aftercare, not proof read, lmk if i missed anything!

don’t forget to like, reblog, follow, and comment to support my work! it always makes my day, mwah

“well if it isn’t the little princess”

Just like that, nine months down the drain. You massage your temples as you recall the past few days. The countless arguments between you and your, now ex, boyfriend form a persistent migraine between your eyes.

In hindsight, you really should have seen it coming. Your relationship had been rocky for months, but you were so busy with other obligations that you hadn’t had the time to confront any of it head on. Fortunately for you, he was more than willing to step up to the plate.

You wouldn’t let yourself admit it out loud, but you almost felt relieved with his absence in your small apartment. That was until you remembered the loss of his half of the rent.

Everything happened so fast, it was hard to process any of it. It all felt like it was swirling around and around too quickly for you to pick any one thing out. Your solution? Alchohol.

You grabbed your keys and hopped into your polished, clean, mint green beetle, setting off for the local dive bar. You could only recall one other time you had been to the small bar, having been dragged there by colleagues in the name of “bonding” after a particularly long day at work.

Drinking wasn’t something you did often, reserving a glass of wine for holidays and special events. Tonight, you decided you needed to make an exception.

As you parked and stepped out of your car, you felt nerves twist in your gut. The place was undoubtedly busy, which wasn’t shocking for a Friday night. People were smoking and talking out front, and you couldn’t help but notice how out of place you must’ve looked.

A knee length grey skirt fell loosely over your hips, paired with a rose colored, ruffled blouse, and a pearl necklace with matching earrings to top it off. Not a single tattoo in sight, and certainly no cigarette in hand. Your heels clicked against the pavement, smoothing down your skirt as you made your way inside.

The second you enter, you’re hit with a haze of smoke and the overwhelming smell of alchohol, nicotine, and sweat. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting before you head for the bar.

You shuffle your way over to an empty stool at the front and take a seat, plopping your beaded purse on the counter. As you wait for the bartender to make their way to you, you take a better look at your surroundings. The place felt oddly cozy for being in such a frumpy looking building, and a band was playing some sort of aggressive rock song you had never heard before. Despite it being a little too loud, and a little too cluttered, you were already starting to relax a little.

“Hey there, what can I get for ya?”

You whip your head around at the voice, and your stomach instantly falls into your shoes. It would be impossible not to recognize the dark mop of curls that you got so used to seeing bouncing about the halls you shared all those years ago.

Although now it was pulled back into a sloppy bun at the back of his head, loose curls falling around his face. You’d hate to admit it, but he looked really nice.

“Well if it isn’t the little princess.” he laughs, and you feel your fists clench at the old nickname. “Didn’t think this was really your scene.”

“Well that would be a correct assumption, Munson.” you bite, bouncing back from the initial shock, “Unfortunately, it was the closest bar to my apartment, and I wasn’t in the mood to drive across town.”

Your grumbling makes you feel like a petulant child with a grudge, but you can’t help it. Eddie just always has getting on your nerves.

“I didn’t know you worked here, or I would have made the sacrifice.”

Eddie smiles his big, toothy, infuriatingly smug smile, and shakes his head, “You haven’t changed one bit, huh princess?”

“Don’t call me that.” you demand through gritted teeth, holding on to every ounce of restraint you have not to scream at him to just get you a drink.

He leans forward on the counter with a lopsided, goofy sort of expression, invading your space and ignoring your little outburst. “So what brings you in here tonight, princess? Boy troubles?” he mocks with a pouty tone.

You glare daggers into his skull, and he knows he’s hit the nail on the head. “Just a beer will do.”

He gives a small salute before leaving to get you your drink of choice.

The rest of the night is spent drinking, wallowing, and actively avoiding any and all interactions with the familiar bartender. The minimal interaction you did have involved him pushing every button in sight, and you fighting to maintain an ounce of self control.

Any time your eyes made their way over to him, of their own volition, his eyes were already on you. He had this look, like he knew something you didn’t, and it infuriated you. Oh how you hated him.

It had always been this way, ever since high school. He made it his mission to push you to your limit, and you always had to one up him somehow. It became almost like a game. You weren’t surprised to see he hadn’t changed after all this time. It was almost comforting in way, if you thought about it long enough.

As the night went on, the activity slowly started dying down, and the atmosphere got quieter. You were on your second beer of the night, trying to let the cold liquid take the edge off. Even still, you felt your fingers tap against the counter with anxiety.

How could he leave you to fend for yourself at the drop of a hat? After nine months? Did your relationship hold that little of value? How were you supposed to afford next quarter’s rent? There’s no way you could afford to live in your current apartment. You would have to move. How would you find somewhere decent to stay in such a short amount of time? You were screwed.

“Hey sweetheart, we’re gettin’ ready to close up.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up to see the one person you wanted to see the least right now. His expression was soft. Softer than you’ve ever seen it aimed in your direction. It made you want to dig your nails into his skin.

“You alright?”

The question takes you aback, your brows furrow at the uncharacteristic behavior. “Fine, thanks.” you mumble, taking another gulp of your drink.

He looks at you with what can only be described as sympathy, and you feel your chest tighten. “Wanna step out for a smoke?”

You mull over the words for a moment. The answer should be so simple. You don’t smoke. In fact, you’ve never smoked once in your life. Why would you ever agree to smoke with him of all people?

But then his hand is outstretched across the bar for you to take a cigarette, and his eyes look so… kind? You’ve never thought of that word to describe him before. Maybe it was the alchohol, or maybe he put some sort of curse on you, because suddenly you’re taking the cigarette and following him out front.

You can’t help but watch as his thumb flicks at the lighter, putting it up to your lips before bringing it to his own. You follow his lead inhaling the smoke, and then you’re instantly coughing and spluttering it back out of your lungs.

He laughs lightly as he cooly blows the smoke to the side to avoid getting it in your face. “I take it you’ve never smoked before? If you wanted to talk to me, all you had to do was ask.”

“Shut up, Munson.” you spit out, face heating up with embarrassment as you make another attempt, ignoring the burning in your throat.

It’s silent for a while, before anyone decides to break it.

“So,” he starts, “You a big time writer now?” he asks, staring at the pavement.

He remembered you wanted to be a writer? You didn’t even think he knew that about you. “English teacher, actually. Hawkins High.”

He looks at you then, dropping the butt of his cigarette to the ground and crushing it under his boot. “You stuck around that hell hole? No wonder you’ve still got that stick up your ass.”

You scoff bitterly, “Well I guess some of us are more academically inclined than others.” you glare, “I actually enjoy my job, shocking as that may be to you.”

“I'm sure you do, sweetheart.” Eddie replies smugly, causing you to grit your teeth as he leans against the brick wall of the building. "Gettin' to boss people around all day must be a dream come true for you." The parking lot is almost completely empty at this point.

Of course his civility was just a calm before the storm. You mentally pinch yourself for your momentary lapse of judgement. “God, you are such a-“

“Comedian? Kind soul? Sight for sore eyes?” he offers dramatically, eyes twinkling at your grimace.

“I was going for obnoxious, conceited, prick.” You hiss, stomping out your cigarette, “and I do not have a stick up my ass!” you shout, turning on your heel to leave.

Eddie rushes to catch up to you, laughing boyishly in a way that makes you speed up. “Aw come on, princess, don’t be like that. I was just teasing.”

“I said not to call me that-” You whip around to face him, and suddenly you’re practically chest to chest, craning your neck to meet his eyes. You’re so close you wonder if he can feel your heart racing behind your ribs.

Then he’s looking at you with that look. The one that makes your insides bubble over with fury. The one that makes you feel like he knows some sort of deep secret about you. It makes you want to slap him in his smug face. Yet, for some reason, you can’t seem to look away from his gaze.

Finally, you pull yourself away, and march over to your car. Just as you open your door, you hear a retreating shout of, “Next drink’s on me, princess!” and then you’re out of there faster than you can process your heaving chest and shaky hands.

After that, you somehow end up back in that same bar every Friday. Some sort of force, unbeknownst to you, seemed to draw you in like a magnet. As promised, the next drink was on him… and the next, and the next, no matter how many times you tried to refuse.

No matter how much you tried to talk yourself out of it, you always ended up sitting on the same stool, at the same time, with the same drink in your hand. Every week, without fail, you would leave the bar a fuming, heated mess with only one thing on your mind. Eddie fucking Munson.

This week in particular was different. You were absolutely swamped with assignments that needed to be graded, and you spent all of Thursday night and Friday working on getting them done.

It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you noticed the hiccup in your routine, and for some reason it made you sad. It wasn’t like you were obligated to go every weekend, but a part of you had grown to enjoy your Friday nights at the bar. Then some sick, twisted part of you wondered if he had noticed your absence, but you shoved the thought away as soon as it surfaced.

As the day went on, you convinced yourself it wouldn’t hurt to just go tonight instead. After all it was a Saturday night, and you had already cleared your workload for the week, so it’s not like there was any real harm in it.

Alternatively, it was a Saturday night. Eddie’s band performed Saturday nights. You didn’t want him to think you were there to see him, because you most certainly were not. You just didn’t want to miss out on your weekly drink, that’s all. Nothing more.

Still, it was a Saturday night. It would do you some good to look a little nicer, right?

You start to regret it the second you park your car. The shift in the air is blatantly obvious as you enter walk towards the crowded space. Men out front whistle at you as you walk to the door, and you can feel eyes practically digging into your skin as u head for your usual seat at the bar. Your leg bounces with nerves at the attention. You've never worn this dress before. Never had a reason to. You don't allow yourself to wonder why you chose to wear it tonight.

You ask the bartender for a long island iced tea, and catch yourself checking the small stage in the back of the room. You internally scold yourself and glue your eyes to your drink.

It isn’t long before cheers are heard around the bar, pulling your attention up to see Corroded Coffin walking out on stage.

“How’s everybody doing tonight?” Eddie’s voice booms out of the speakers, causing people to whoop and holler in reply. You feel your leg begin to bounce.

He continues talking to the small crowd while his band finishes setting up, and you can’t stop yourself from ogling at him. You desperately want to pull your eyes away, to look at anything else, but you can’t.

He’s wearing an old band t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off his arms, chest, and a sliver of his waist. Your eyes trail across the exposed skin, noticing he has quite a few new tattoos littering it, and your stomach twists. He has leather and chain bracelets decorating his wrists, curls falling wildly around his face, and you notice light bouncing off of his signature rings still adorning his fingers. You definitely don’t remember him looking like this in high school.

As he moves around the stage it’s abundantly clear how confident he is up there. His stage presence is truly impressive, and his voice is really something. It's gotten deeper since the last time you heard it. You subconsciously wet your lips as you watch his fingers move around the neck of his guitar. He’s come a long way since the last time you saw him perform. You can’t help but smile as you watch him in his element.

Then the smile is wiped clean off of your face when he makes direct eye contact with you from across the bar. You freeze, feeling like you suddenly have shards of glass lodged in your throat. Has he known you’ve been sitting here the whole time? If he saw you smiling you might have to run into oncoming traffic.

Then you notice what he’s singing.

“I'm on the prowl and I watch you closely I lie waiting for you I'm the wolf with the sheepskins clothing I lick my chops and you're tastin' good”

Your stomach flips and you can feel your whole body heating up. Something tells you he notices too, which makes it a million times worse. What the hell is wrong with you?

“I do whatever I want to do ya I'll nail your ass to the sheets A pelvic thrust and the sweat starts to sting ya I fuck like a beast”

You shift in your seat, the eye contact becoming far too overwhelming. You opt to look down at your lap for the remainder of the song to prevent yourself from doing something embarrassing.

Soon enough the set is over, and the band starts breaking down their set up. You’re so deep in your own thoughts by the end of it that you fail to notice the man approaching you, until his arms are caging you against the bar.

“Well hello there, pretty lady.” You gasp at the familiar voice speaking directly into your ear, feeling his shirt graze your back. “Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He beams down at you, watching you huff and roll your eyes as you turn to face him. Your fingers wriggle with the efforts not to hit him.

“It was an impulsive decision.” You mutter quietly, eyes briefly darting to his toned arm beside you before snapping back to his face, “I didn’t come yesterday.” You concede, unsure of what else to say.

He smiles, seemingly amused. “I know. Your seat was empty all night.” he says lowly, face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your lips. For a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s pushing off of the counter to head back behind the bar and help clean up.

So he did notice. Did he miss you? Was he saving your seat, or is it just a coincidence?

You feel dizzy with a million questions. Why did you let him get so close? Why were you going to let him kiss you? Why does he look so good. Why do you care so much? You should have said something, anything.

You finish your drink in silence, watching Eddie as he flits around tidying up the place, and then the bar is closing. You feel your gut twist at the thought of going home, and you don’t quite understand why, but you blame the alchohol.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Eddie jogs up to you as you grab your purse, arm outstretched and offering a cigarette. His hair falls prettily around his shoulders, and you only now notice that he takes much better care of his curls now than he did in high school.

“Care for a smoke?”

His charm must be cranked up to 100 tonight, because, once again, you agree with less hesitation than you would have liked.

You stand out front, Eddie waving goodnight to Garret as he heads to his car, and you watch as the last car whirs out of the lot. Then you are alone. Just you and Eddie. Your heart hammers in your chest.

“How’d you like the show?” he asks, exhaling a puff of smoke in the process.

You handle the burn better this time, holding back a cough from erupting as you take a drag. “It was… good.” You say hesitantly.

He quirks an eyebrow at you, “Just good? Wow, then we really need to get our shit together if we're gonna-“

“You were amazing.” You blurt out, unsure of why you felt the need to boost his ego. You clear your throat before amending your statement, “It… The show was amazing.”

Eddie hums in satisfaction, smile tugging at the corners of his lips around his cig. “You know, you didn’t have to dress all fancy for lil ol’ me.”

You wore a tight, low-backed, black dress that hugged your curves perfectly, sheer black stockings, black boots, and some dainty silver jewelry. Nothing too crazy, but definitely much different from how you would normally dress. Admittedly, you felt a little self conscious.

“Well good thing I didn’t dress fancy for you.” You huff, starting to feel a little silly for trying so hard to fit in. God, did he always have to be so cocky?

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” He starts, pushing off the wall to step towards you. “You look fucking incredible. Of course, you always look incredible.”

Smug bastard.

“Thank you.” You feel yourself flushing at the words, immediately getting sick to your stomach at how much you care what Eddie Munson thinks about how you look. “Glad I got your seal of approval.” You quip sarcastically, desperately trying to pick a fight. Anything to stop you from feeling whatever it is that you’re feeling right now.

Why did he always find a way to get under your skin? No one else makes you feel as utterly frustrated as he does.

He’s absolutely unbearable.

You force down another inhale of smoke as you watch Eddie slowly make his way closer to you. The way he’s looking at you makes your mouth go dry. You can’t tell what he’s thinking and it’s driving you up the wall.

“You know, you don’t always have to be such a brat.” He exhales casually, pausing in front of you. Your heart stops. “It wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me every once in a while.”

“It might.” You rasp out curtly, just now realizing how out of breath you suddenly feel.

He laughs, and the sound makes your insides flip.

“You have such a big fat crush on me, don’t you sweetheart?” He smiles down at you wolfishly, and it almost makes you shrink under his stare. You suddenly are acutely aware of your surroundings.

You scoff and cross your arms defensively, “I most certainly do not have a crush on you, Munson.” You spit out venomously. How dare he even suggest such a thing? It couldn’t be farther from the truth. You loathe him.

“Oh yeah?” he challenges, taking a stride closer to you, making you step backwards.

“Think I don’t notice how you stare at me? How you sit up a little straighter when you see me?”

Your back hits the wall.

“You aren’t subtle, princess.”

You feel like a fucking deer in headlights.

“Staring and glaring are two very different things.” You pant, desperately searching for oxygen. Anger burns in your throat at his absolute audacity, and your skin feels like it's buzzing.

“Is that so?”

You can feel his chest press into you as the brick digs into your shoulders. He takes a long inhale of smoke, and your head is screaming at you to push him off of you and curse him the whole way home, but you can’t bring yourself to move.

It feels like everything is moving in slow motion as he grabs your chin, and then, unexpectedly, he‘s pulling your jaw down to part your lips. All you can do is stare at him and his cocky fucking smile at your compliance. You feel like you’re in a trance.

Before you can even think, his lips are pressed against yours and pushing smoke past your lips. You gasp at the contact, effectively inhaling the smoke and sighing against his lips. Your brain short circuits and goes completely numb. His lips feel like the cure to a disease you've been plagued with for years.

For a moment, you almost forget who you’re with, until he pulls back to look at you.

“Well if you hate me so much, then why are you squeezing your thighs together?”

You immediately rip your legs apart, not even realizing what you were doing until it was too late. You can feel steam pouring out of your ears at this point.

“You’re insufferable.”

“You love it.”

He’s right. For some reason, you do love it. Something about him makes you crave more, and you’re starting to believe he may be an incubus. It’s making you go insane.

So you finally wave the white flag.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Munson.”

So he does. Again, and again, and again, until somehow you end up back at Eddie’s trailer with your wrists handcuffed to his bed frame and your clothes thrown around his room.

Hard rock music plays faintly in the distance, and the room smells vaguely of incense and weed. You feel like you've been transported to an alternate dimension.

His lips feel like they’re everywhere. Your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and then he’s leaving sweet little kisses on your tits, making you whine and arch your back towards him.

“Gotta teach you how to let loose, yeah?”

He gently tugs on one of your nipples and you gasp, and Eddie can’t help but laugh as he kisses his way further down your body.

“You’re fucking adorable when you’re not being a pain in the ass, you know that?”

You groan as he spreads your legs open, kissing and biting at your thighs. “Shut up, Eddie.”

“Oh I’m Eddie now?”

Your hips buck up in frustration, glaring down at him with a scowl. It feels like he’s been teasing you for forever. “Eddie” you whine out, “Stop teasing.”

He slowly starts kissing closer to where you need him most, but not quite close enough. “You don’t think you deserve it? Why do you think your wrists are locked up then, sweetheart?”

You wiggle and writhe beneath him, but don’t answer. Eddie moves his face closer to your cunt, and you finally think you’re going to get what you want, and then he blows on your clit. You whimper and clench around nothing, flinching away from him. It's absolutely pathetic, getting so worked up when he’s barely even done anything yet.

“I asked you a question.” Eddie tries again, rubbing soothing circles into the back of your thigh while he waits for a response.

“My wrist’s are locked up because…” You take a deep sigh and force yourself to just spit it out so that he’ll touch you already. “because I was being a brat." you grumble. He’s lucky your wrists are locked up right now, you think.

Eddie kisses your thigh in approval, “That’s right, and bratty girls don’t get to call the shots. Right?”

You huff and pull against your restraints once more, before ultimately complying. “Right.”

You figure it won’t do you any good to act out, especially given your current position.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Eddie grins up at you, before finally leaving a gentle kiss right on your clit.

You throw your head back into the pillows, immediately feeling relief at the small touch. He then runs his tongue up your slit, swirling it nice and slow around your little button, making you sigh and melt into the bed. His curls tickle your thighs where he works diligently.

It quickly becomes apparent that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that makes you wonder how many other women have been in this exact same position. The thought makes you dig your nails into your palms, but the it’s is quickly forgotten when you feel him slide a finger into you.

"See?" He starts, words muffled by your folds, "Just needed someone to put you in your place, huh? To take the reigns?"

You flutter around him, and every fiber of your being wants to say something snippy in response, but all you get out is a blissed out sigh. He hums happily.

His fingers are much thicker than your own, calloused from his years of playing guitar. Looking down you notice he took all his rings off and set them next to you on the bed. He never takes his rings off, ever, you remember that. For some reason the simple act makes your heart leap out of your chest.

He pulls his face back from your slick for a moment just to watch the way you suck in his finger, and he moans at the sight of you. The sound makes your brain feel like static. “Fuck, baby, you needed it bad, huh? You’re fucking dripping all over my sheets and I've barley started.”

All you can do is nod your head and hum in response, and your jaw drops open with a soft moan as he slides in a second finger with ease.

“How long have you been wanting me like this, sweetheart? Be honest.” He asks, never faltering in his pace.

You whine at the question, embarrassment flooding your features as you turn your face to hide it in his pillow. He quickly kisses up your body, gently turning your head back to look at him. “You can tell me. No need to be embarrassed.”

You take one good look at his face, and you know that he already knows. He’s giving you that look. He just wants to hear you say it.

“Mm… Since-” you hesitate to finish your sentence, and then a particularly hard thrust of his fingers does it for you. “Since fucking high school! Christ, Eddie-”

A groan erupts from the back of his throat as he kisses you hard, licking and biting at your bottom lip, and then suddenly his mouth is back on your clit and you feel like you’re floating. He picks up the pace, eating you out like a man starved, flicking his tongue in time with the thrusts of his fingers.

You feel your hips start to move against him, and he groans into your pussy making you cry out. “Yeah, that’s it.” He mumbles against your core, “Ride my face, honey.”

You can’t control the plethora of sounds that escape you, and your body seems to have a mind of its own. You writhe on the bed as Eddie devours you, holding your thighs over his shoulders. He searches for your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers, and he knows he’s found it when your eyebrows pinch up, a high pitched whine reverberating throughout his bedroom.

You can feel him smile against your cunt, continuing his assault against that spot that makes you see stars. He never stops looking up at you to watch your face contort with pleasure. His already dark eyes are now fully eclipsed with lust and need.

“Oh my god-” you gasp out, heaving for air as your legs begin to shake around his head.

He can tell you’re close from the way you’re squeezing his fingers and writhing under him. He doesn’t speed up or change his pace, he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moving the flat of his tongue back and forth against your clit and curling his fingers up into you just right.

“Eddie, mm… i’m so close-”

The second the words leave your lips, he pulls off of you. His mouth and fingers are completely gone in an instant, and you feel like you’re about to cry.

“What the fuck?!” You shout at him, voice weak with tears threatening to spill, “Why did you stop?”

Eddie grins from ear to ear, lips and chin glistening with your slick, “We talked about this, remember?” he says cockily, leaning down to lick a bead of sweat from your chest, “Brats don’t get to call the shots. You’ll take what I give you, won’t you sweetheart?”

You grumble and kick your legs out in frustration, but he kisses you to make it better. You slowly let him melt you back into putty in his hands, tasting yourself on his tongue. He presses his knee directly against your puffy cunt, groaning at your wetness against his skin as you sigh into his lips. You go to move your hips against him but he quickly stops you, moving his hand up instead to push down his boxers, his dick already hard and aching to feel you.

“Promise I’ll make you feel so good, just gotta be good for me first alright?”

You nod your head frantically, completely and utterly at his mercy. He looks like sex personified, and you just want to feel him. “Please, Eddie-”

He smiles sweetly at you, kissing your cheek as he slides the tip of his cock through your folds. “Awh, look at you and your manners.” he taunts, but this time you can't seem to care. In fact, you realize, you kind of like it.

You like hearing his voice.

You like it when he’s mean.

He pushes just the tip against your dripping hole, and you’re practically sobbing. “How can I say no when you asked so politely?” and then he’s sliding all the way into you, and you’re already a wreck.

“Holy shit- you feel so fucking good” he groans and huffs as he starts to slowly pump in and out of you, making sure you feel every drag of his cock inside you.

You’re already panting, stretching your hands against the cool metal to try and grasp for anything that can ground you, but you come up empty. He’s so much bigger than you expected him to be, and the stretch is practically making you drool.

“Eddie, fucking- god”

“That’s it, keep screaming my name just like that baby.” He encourages, kissing and biting at your collar bone, sure to leave marks, “You sound so goddamn pretty when you say my name.”

Eddie adjusts your position, pulling your leg over his hip and pushing it against your chest. The new angle has your back arching off the bed, a whimpering mess as you claw at the handcuffs.

Eddie leans his head to rest in the crook of your neck, panting and whining into your ear. “Shit, princess-”

Your cunt squeezes him at the nickname, and the moan that slips past your lips is guttural. “Oh, fuck-” He clamps his eye shut with a deep groan, gripping your thigh so hard it’s sure to leave little bruises.

That’s the first time he’s used that nickname since you started, and he knows it. He did it on purpose.

He lifts his head to look at your blissed out face, a goofy, lopsided, fucked out grin on his lips. “I knew it.” he gloats, thrusts getting harder, “Look at me.”

You muster up the energy to flutter your eyes open and look at him. The pretty smile on his face makes your legs shake.

“You like it when I call you that,” he beamed, “That’s why you hated when I used that name for you in public, huh. Cause’ it made you fuckin’ soak your panties?” he laughed meanly, watching tears fill your waterline. He leans down to brush his lips against yours, voice lowering into something sweeter. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you practically scream. He looked so pretty, and he felt so good, and you wanted him closer. It was all too much, you needed to hold something, anything. You needed to pull yourself back down to reality.

“Eds- Eddie, please can I touch you?” your fingers twitch where they’re held above your head, “Wanna feel you- please, i’ve been so good-”

Eddie whines at your sweet pleas, but maintains composure. He wanted to stick to the plan.

“Oh, honey, no” he pouts out at you mockingly, watching the way you strain for anything to grasp and his dick twitches inside you, “No, you gotta give me one first. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Too fucked out to formulate a simple response, you simply sob and nod your head. Your hips start to rock up into his thrusts, but Eddie grabs your hips with one hand and pushes them back down into the sheets. You feel like a live wire.

Then he brings his thumb down to your clit, gently rubbing circles on it, and your eyes clamp shut. He kisses your open mouth and you try your best to kiss him back, but he’s moaning into your mouth, and he’s touching you, and fucking you, and Eddie Munson is fucking you, and it’s all so good that you just can’t.

“Eddie, i’m gonna-” you babble, almost incoherent, feeling the knot getting tighter and tighter, “Please please please don’t stop!”

He puts more pressure on your clit and leaves sweet little kisses on your neck, “I’m not got stop, it’s okay.”

You’re so close you feel like you’re about to explode.

“You can cum for me, princess”

That’s all you needed to see stars, black clouding your vision as he rides out your high, not once stopping or slowing down his pace. You can vaguely hear him talking you down, but nothing registers past your ears ringing.

Then your wrists are released and he’s flipping you over so that you’re on top, straddling him, and your hands and lips are all over him in an instant. In this position he hits your g-spot perfectly, and you can’t help but sob against his chest at the overstimulation.

“Just one more for me, I promise.” he soothes, gently rubbing your hip as his guides your hips back and forth on his cock, making you both cry out. You start to set your own pace riding him, leaning back against his legs to give you the perfect angle.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters, breathlessly, “My pretty girl- fuck.”

Eddie was now moaning and whining louder and more freely than before, you can tell he’s getting close now too, and you’re already reaching your second climax of the night.

“Wanted you for so long,” Eddie admits, gripping your hip tighter, “can’t believe this is real.”

You whine at the confession, leaning forward to press your lips to the shell of his ear. You make sure to let your pretty noises and praises flow freely, just for him. Your fingers gently brush hairs from his forehead before scratching your way down his chest.

“You fuck me so well, Eds”

“Oh my god- you feel so good”

“Please, Eddie, I wanna feel you cum”

He’s an absolute mess, wrapping both hands around your hips and bending his knees up so that he can fuck you down onto him. “Wanna cum with you sweetheart. Want you to give me another one.” He rambles against your chest, and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving little red marks behind.

“I’m so close, honey, c’mon. You can give it to me."

You bite and claw at his skin, so close to tipping over the edge.

"Soak me.”

You collapse forward as tears of overstimulation fall onto his inked skin, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder to ground himself while he paints your walls white. You ride out your highs, clutching each other like a lifeline. When you’re both back on planet earth, he cleans you up nice an gentle, and whispers pretty little praises into your skin as you fall asleep with your limbs intertwined.

“Knew you had a crush on me, princess.”

Let’s just say you no longer have to go apartment hunting!

asks are open!

[marzghost]

Had to sketch them out. You can't tell me this didn't happen at least once a week while training. Might finish this later since their on my mind and have been steadily taking over.

[eustassslut]

Out at Sea, ASL x reader fic series (Coming Soon)

Safe on Land - Lifeguard & Sea life rescuer! Sabo x CEO's daughter! Reader

Born to Ride - Surfer! Portgas D. Ace x Lifeguard! Reader

Under the Sea - Diver! Luffy x Archeological Assistant /Researcher! Reader

[thisonesatellite]

tomorrow never knows -- CH1

AO3

PAIRING: Steve /Bucky

SUMMARY:

In East Berlin around the late 60s /early 70s, KGB Asset 3B-1 is tasked with surveiling a subject that has raised some low grade red flags. Nothing too serious. The original order is to just eliminate the subject - kind of like you would swat a fly before it becomes a nuisance - but Asset 3B-1's personal equipment malfunctions and the whole thing gets switched to recon first and this is how Asset 3B-1 finds himself watching a hapless artist sleep, mostly. But this is the heyday of spies and corruption and nothing ever being what it seems, and so Things Happen. Plot and action and secrets and lies Happen. Until of course the truth comes out, the way it always does. Because at the core of this are Bucky and Steve, as always---idiots who are being the most idiotic idiots about everything, especially each other.

A/N: Yep, it's sat going down another canon-bending rabbit hole, this time in the footsteps of John le Carré and every Cold War spy movie ever. Strap in, darlings.

This is a gift for two of the most amazing people i know:

@booksandabeer -- whose beta prowess is responsible for every single good thing in this fic, i am not joking. This would be nothing without her. NOTHING. She is invaluable and i do not deserve her. Make no mistake about it, without her amazing contributions and encouragement there would be no fic.

And @bittersweet-in-boston -- who screamed "'EAST GERMAN SPY FIC? INJECT IT INTO MY VEINS!"' back when i first tossed around the zygote of a possible cold war idea more than a year ago. She is a treasure and i do not deserve her. Make no mistake about it, without her shouty love and encouragement there would be no fic.

And to all of you out there who follow me down into these story jungles and gift me with your endless patience as i try to wrangle all the plot boa constrictors -- thank you so much. i love you all.

💕💕💕💕💕

(PS: i am never ever writing anything that requires block quotes or bullet lists ever again. EVER. 😂)

[munsster]

Sometimes you think you'd never like Eddie Munson like that. You're polar opposites and you have vastly different hobbies and taste and you constantly call each other names. You bicker and throw jabs and gossip for hours and hours on end. He doesn’t like you like that, and you don’t like him like that either. It’s a beautiful, blossoming friendship, and you'd never dare to fall in love.

But then, sometimes, the sun shines through his frizzy curls and kisses his cheeks with the softest freckles in the world and suddenly he's this ethereal portrait of long lashes and honeyed hazels that you wanna capture forever in a stupid polaroid. Sometimes he flashes that batshit grin or shyly suggests you look hot in those jeans and it's a wonder you've kept him at such a distance all this time.