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ama0310 · 5 months ago

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Silver Springs (S.R)

Character: Spencer Reid

Requested: No

Type: Angst

Summary: A chance encounter during a murder investigation forces Spencer to confront his past when he comes face-to-face with Y/N, his ex-girlfriend and new victim, rekindling old feelings and tensions.

AN: It's basically Daisy Jones & the Six meets Criminal Minds type of vibe.

"Another day, another case."

Spencer Reid had grown accustomed to the relentless pace of his work with the BAU. Evil, it seemed, never took a day off.

This explained why he now found himself en route to interview the latest victim, accompanied by Morgan.

Four murders in two weeks, and the body count showed no signs of slowing. All signs pointed to a disturbing connection within the music industry. The first two victims were singers, their vocal cords savagely ripped out. The third, a guitarist, had his hands severed. The most recent victim, a band manager, had his eyes gouged out in a grotesque display of violence.

As they walked briskly down the bustling Nashville street, Morgan voiced his frustration. "I can't wrap my head around why each murder was so different. It's like we're dealing with a completely new MO each time."

Reid's brilliant mind was already piecing together the puzzle. "Actually, there's a twisted logic to it," he explained, his words tumbling out rapidly. "Each mutilation corresponds to the victim's role in the industry. Singers silenced, a guitarist robbed of his ability to play, and a manager blinded, unable to oversee his clients. The unsub is targeting what makes each victim valuable in their profession."

"Do we know who we're meeting?" Reid inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Morgan nodded, consulting the notes from their technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. "Her stage name is Y/S/N, twenty-six years old. She's the lead singer of a band called The Springs. The band's manager reported an attempted abduction last night. She fits our victim profile perfectly: female, location in Nashville, related to a band. This is our first witness, Reid. She could be our key to catching this guy."

As they entered the recording studio, a frazzled assistant greeted them. "Hi, I'm Cary, the manager's assistant. Thank you so much for coming! Jason has been a nervous wreck. Please, follow me."

Morgan took the lead, his FBI credentials at the ready. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We need to speak with Y/S/N as soon as possible."

Cary nodded, guiding them towards a red door. With each step, the muffled sound of music grew louder, and a hauntingly beautiful voice became clearer.

"The band is actually recording their latest song right now," Cary explained in a hushed tone. "You'll need to be quiet, but the manager will brief you further."

As they approached the studio, the lyrics washed over them:

Time cast a spell on you, but you won't forget me I know I could've loved you, but you would not let me

A chill ran up Reid's spine. Something about that voice tugged at his memory, but before he could place it, he collided with Morgan's back.

A man stood before them, his face etched with worry. "Thank you for coming. I'm Jason, the band's manager. I wanted to take her straight to the police station, but she insisted on—" His eyes widened in recognition. "Spencer?"

Reid froze, suddenly face-to-face with a ghost from his past. "Uh, hi?" he managed, his usual social awkwardness winning again. How does one greet their ex-girlfriend's best friend after years of silence?

Morgan, sensing the tension, stepped between them. "I'm Agent Morgan, and this is Dr. Reid. We're here to speak with Y/S/N."

Jason's eyes darted between the two agents, his expression hardening. "Actually, I'd prefer if he wasn't here," he said, gesturing to Reid. "No offense, but I don't think it's wise for either of you to cross paths again."

Morgan, though confused by the unexpected connection, maintained his professional demeanor. "With all due respect, Dr. Reid and I work as a team. We both need to speak with Y/S/N to conduct a thorough investigation."

As the two men argued, Reid's gaze drifted to the recording booth. Through the glass, he caught sight of the band, and his breath caught in his throat. There, at the microphone, stood a face he thought he'd never see again—a face that to this day still haunts his most amazing dreams.

I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you Give me just a chance

The lyrics pierced through Spencer Reid's carefully constructed walls, flooding his mind with memories he'd long tried to suppress. He was transported back to a time when life held more than just case files and criminal profiles—a time when he had someone to come home to, when he felt truly free rather than trapped within the labyrinth of his own brilliant mind. A time when he and Y/N L/N couldn't imagine a life without each other.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

Despite his best efforts, Spencer's heart threatened to burst from his chest, yearning to reunite with its other half. For that was what Y/N had been—his perfect complement. They had met when she was seventeen and he was nineteen, initially friends until, two years later, they could no longer deny the intensity of their feelings.

Their love had been a force of nature—intense, pure, raw, and undeniably real. Until life's cruel realities came knocking at their door.

Y/N was a free spirit, driven by her passion for music. She'd twirl until dizzy, her long hair a wild tangle, singing until her voice grew hoarse. Music moved her in a way nothing else could.

Meanwhile, Spencer was on the cusp of graduating from the FBI Academy, with whispers of a fast-track position in the prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Two paths diverging, leading to an impossible choice.

He did what he thought he had to do, breaking things off for both their sakes. He had run the probabilities, analyzed every scenario, and a happy outcome seemed frustratingly out of reach. They wanted different things, or so he had convinced himself.

That fateful night was seared into his memory. Y/N was about to leave for New York to meet with a record label—an opportunity that Jason, her best friend and now manager, had excitedly relayed during their date. Spencer saw the yearning in her eyes, the spark of a dream about to be realized. And so, he made the agonizing decision to end things.

Her tears, her desperate pleas, her hands clutching at him as he walked away—it all haunted him still.

Was I just a fool?

I'll follow you down 'till the sound of my voice will haunt you

Spencer watched, transfixed, as Y/N sang in the recording booth. She swayed to the rhythm, smiling at her bandmates, lost in the music. Everything about her still captivated him. Their relationship had been a bittersweet dream he never wanted to wake from.

Give me just a chance

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you

He stood rooted to the spot, oblivious to Derek's hand on his shoulder or the sudden silence as the band stopped playing. Then, Y/N turned towards the glass, and their eyes met for the first time in years. The world seemed to stop spinning.

Her gaze flicked to Jason, her expression morphing into a glare as she mouthed, "What the fuck?" The spell broken, she grabbed her bag and bolted through the back door.

Everyone sprang into action. Jason was the first to follow, with Derek close behind. Spencer remained frozen until his partner turned him around.

"Look, I don't know what history you have here," Derek said, his voice laced with concern and confusion, "but we have a job to do. If you can't handle this, go wait in the car. If you can, let's move." He pressed the car keys into Spencer's hand before chasing after Jason.

Against his better judgment, Spencer followed. A selfish part of him needed to be near her, even if it meant causing more chaos.

As he approached, he heard Y/N's voice, sharp with anger and pain. "I don't give a fuck if he's the president of the goddamn country. I'm not speaking to him. So you can either throw them out or let me leave."

Spencer rounded the corner to see Y/N already in her car, engine running, poised to flee.

"Look, Miss," Derek began, his voice firm but empathetic, "we can't let you go. You're the only survivor of this serial killer. If you don't talk to us, more people will die. Is that something you can live with?"

Jason, his arm still through the car window, pleaded with his client. "Come on, Y/N. You and I both know they're here to help. Let's get this over with, and then we can get you out of state within hours. This is for your safety and the safety of others."

Y/N's gaze flickered between her manager, the new agent, and Spencer, who was approaching hesitantly. With a heavy sigh and her heart in her throat, she turned off the ignition and moved to open the door, forcing Jason to step back.

"Get me a whiskey and a glass of milk," she demanded, grabbing her purse and striding back into the building without a glance at the agents.

Jason turned to Derek, his expression grave. "I strongly advise against having him there," he said, nodding towards Spencer. "As you can see, it won't end well if he's present."

Derek, still loyal to his partner, bristled at the suggestion. "And I advise you not to tell an FBI agent how to do his job. We've got it from here." He turned to Spencer, concern evident in his eyes. "Is he right? Should I listen to him?"

"No. I'm fine," Spencer insisted, though his tense posture suggested otherwise.

"And what about her?" Derek pressed, before noticing Carly, the assistant, anxiously tapping her foot nearby.

"She's in room 24, waiting for you," Carly informed them, pointing towards a door. "Um... good luck!"

As they entered the room, they found Y/N and Jason in the midst of a heated discussion.

"Everything alright?" Derek intervened, causing Y/N to roll her eyes dramatically.

"Yup, everything's perfect!" Jason's forced cheerfulness was palpable. "You guys can have a seat. I'll be right outside." He looked at Y/N sternly. "Be good. And tell them everything, please."

"Yes, Dad," Y/N replied, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she took a sip of whiskey. Once Jason left, she glanced between Derek and Spencer. "Well, are you going to sit down, or are we having a stand-up interview?"

Derek motioned for Spencer to sit beside him, both agents studying the woman before them. Y/N held a cigarette in one hand and whiskey in the other, while a glass of milk sat on the side table—an odd combination that spoke volumes about her state of mind.

"I'm Agent Morgan, and I believe you know Dr. Reid," Derek began cautiously. "We just have a few questions about what happened to you yesterday."

Y/N took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly before tapping it on the ashtray. "And what exactly do you want to know, Agent?"

Spencer cleared his throat, drawing her attention. "Jason mentioned you survived a failed abduction. Can you walk us through what happened?"

Y/N tilted her head, her gaze fixed on Spencer with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. "We finished recording one of our songs yesterday, and the band wanted to go out for drinks. I was still hungover from the night before, so I decided to sit that one out." She took a gulp of whiskey, chasing it with milk in a bizarre ritual. "I stayed in the studio for a few hours, just writing. Around three a.m., I decided to head back to my hotel. I'd parked two blocks away, and as I approached, I noticed someone loitering near the parking lot entrance."

"Did you engage with him?" Derek interjected, earning an eye roll from Y/N.

"I'm not fucking stupid," she snapped. "I walked past as quickly as possible. He tried to talk to me, but I ignored him. Guess he didn't appreciate that, because the next thing I knew, he was behind me, trying to force a plastic bag over my head."

The room fell silent as the gravity of her words sank in. Spencer leaned forward, his analytical mind already piecing together the details. "Can you describe the attacker? Any distinguishing features, voice, or mannerisms?"

Y/N's eyes locked with Spencer's, a flicker of their shared past evident in her gaze before she quickly looked away. "He was tall, probably six feet or so. Muscular build. I didn't get a good look at his face, but his voice..." She paused, taking another drag of her cigarette. "His voice was deep, with a slight Southern drawl. Not local, though. Maybe Texas or Oklahoma."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "How did you manage to escape?"

They could see Y/N physically reliving the traumatic experience, her leg bouncing with increasing anxiety. The calm facade she had maintained began to crack under the weight of her memories.

"Hey, it's okay," Derek said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Take your time."

For a moment, Y/N seemed to relax, but just as quickly, her emotional walls snapped back into place. She crushed out her cigarette and downed the rest of her whiskey in one swift motion.

"I'd heard about the murders before," she began, her voice steadier than her trembling hands. "Even before that, I always carried a pocket knife and pepper spray. Call it paranoia or just good sense in this industry." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I managed to scratch his left arm before kicking him. When he loosened his grip, I turned and pepper-sprayed him. Then I just... ran. Got to my car and drove straight hotel. That's when I called Jason."

Derek leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "And you didn't think to call the police?"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger. "I wanted to forget about it," she snapped. "I was planning to leave anyway. Sometimes denial feels safer than facing reality."

"Yet you still came in to record a song right after that?" Spencer's quiet question drew her attention, earning him a look that was equal parts resentment and something harder to define.

"I have a job," Y/N replied, her tone clipped as she turned back to Derek. "We have an album coming out soon, and we needed to finish recording. We love working in Nashville, so yes, I wanted to get it over with and then leave. Music... it's always been my escape."

Spencer cleared his throat, treading carefully. "Can you describe anything else about him? Any details you remember?"

Y/N's gaze softened almost imperceptibly as she looked at Spencer. "I think he was wearing a blue sweater, but I'm not certain." She paused, her brow furrowing in concentration. "What I do remember clearly is his smell. It was... odd. Like scented candles, the kind you'd find at Bath & Body Works. It was strangely out of place, but unmistakable."

Derek nodded, jotting down notes. "Alright, thank you for your time, Y/N. Here's our contact information if you remember anything else or need assistance." He stood, extending his hand, which Y/N shook briefly. As he walked to the door, he noticed Spencer hadn't moved. "Spencer?"

Spencer glanced between Derek and Y/N, who was now staring at him intently. "Give me a second," he said quietly. "I'll meet you at the car."

Derek hesitated, giving Spencer a questioning look. The younger agent's eyes pleaded for understanding, for a moment alone with the woman who had once meant everything to him. With a slight nod, Derek acquiesced and left the room.

As the door closed, the air grew thick with unspoken words and years of regret. Spencer and Y/N sat in tense silence, neither quite ready to bridge the chasm between them.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Y/N, I... I'm sorry. For everything. I know it doesn't change anything, but I need you to know that."

Y/N's carefully constructed mask slipped, revealing a glimpse of the pain she'd been carrying for years. "Why now, Spencer? After all this time?"

"Because I never stopped caring," he admitted, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "And seeing you in danger..." He couldn't even finish that sentence. "Please, promise me you'll be careful.

Y/N studied him for a long moment, conflict evident in her eyes so she does what she does best. Ignore it. "Congratulations are in order, Mr. FBI," Y/N said sardonically, reaching for another cigarette. The acrid smell of tobacco filled the air, a scent that brought back a flood of memories for Spencer.

"Smoking causes about 90% of all lung cancer deaths," he recited, unable to stop himself. "More women die from lung cancer each year than from breast cancer." It was an old argument, one they'd had countless times before.

Y/N took a long, deliberate drag, exhaling slowly as if to challenge his statistics. "We're all meant to die one day, Spence," she said, her voice tinged with a familiar fatalism. "I always told you that."

Indeed, she had. It was her motto, her way of justifying living life to the fullest, consequences be damned.

"I thought you quit," Spencer said softly, his eyes fixed on the glowing ember of her cigarette. "When did you start again?"

"A few months after my twentieth birthday," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the floor. "The record label signed us, and suddenly we went from doing a few covers a week to churning out originals every month. Needed a stress reliever."

Spencer studied her, noting the way she avoided his eyes. There was more to the story, he was certain. "Y/N/N," he said gently, using the old nickname that once came so easily to his lips, "are you okay?"

Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing. "Why would you assume I'm not?"

"Well," Spencer began, slipping into his analytical mode, "you drank that whiskey rather quickly. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you're flushed—signs of prolonged alcohol consumption. The fact that you're willing to record and drive in this state suggests it's become a habit. And then there's the cigarette addiction. So, naturally, I'm concerned about your well-being."

Silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken words and years of separation. Y/N broke first, standing abruptly and grabbing her purse. "I've told you what you needed to know," she said, her voice brittle. "I have to leave. Hopefully, Jason's already arranged my flight out of here."

As she turned to go, Spencer's hand shot out, catching her wrist. The contact sent a jolt through both of them—a spark of electricity, familiar yet now terrifyingly foreign.

Y/N's eyes traveled from his hand to his face. "Let go, Spencer," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

He couldn't. Not yet. Not when he'd finally found her again, when there was so much to explain, so much unfinished between them. But he also knew that Derek would come bursting through the door at any moment.

With reluctance, he released her wrist and pulled out a post-it note and pen from his bag. Hastily scribbling his number, he held it out to her. "Take it. Please. If you need anything—and I mean anything—call me, okay?"

Skepticism clouded Y/N's features. Did he really expect her to take his number, to even consider calling him after everything?

Seeing her hesitation, Spencer pressed on. "Look, Y/N, I know you have every reason not to trust me, to want me out of your life. But please, give me a chance to prove that I'll be there for you. We'll catch the guy who attacked you, and if you need help with anything else, anything at all, come to me. Please."

Y/N stared into his pleading eyes. A part of her recognized his sincerity, but the wounded 20-year-old inside her still ached from old betrayals.

With a resigned eye roll, she snatched the note from his hand and left without a word, leaving Spencer rooted to the spot.

As she passed a trash can in the hallway, Y/N paused, the note burning a hole in her hand. For a moment, she hovered on the brink of tossing it away. But something—sentiment, curiosity, or perhaps a stubborn refusal to let go—made her slip it into the back pocket of her jeans instead.

You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you

The lyrics of her song echoed in Spencer's mind as he watched her go. And in that moment, he realized with startling clarity that he didn't want to get away. Not anymore. Not ever again.

As Y/N disappeared from view, Spencer was left alone with the lingering scent of her perfume and cigarette smoke, and the weight of years of regret. He knew that solving this case was now about more than just catching a killer—it was about second chances, redemption, and the possibility of healing old wounds.

With a deep breath, he steeled himself to face Derek and the investigation ahead, all while knowing that the most challenging case of his life might just be winning back the trust of the woman he'd never stopped loving.

Author's Note: I absolutely love Silver Springs. I belt it out all the time lol. I also was obsessed with Daisy Jones & The Six when it came out. Used to read a lot of those fanfics.

Also let me know if y'all want a part 2.

Thank for reading!

#spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #daisy jones and the six #silver springs

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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago

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We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #honey's birthday bash #honey's holiday celebrations

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minzart · 4 months ago

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Blazing eyes

Maleficent x Reader(GN) x Hades . ROR-VKs & You

“professor-” he slams the door close, leaving you alone… you naturally louch yourself to the door and try to pry it open, sadly it won't budge “cursed old fucking man -OPEN! ABRACADABRA! PRESTO! BIBIDBOBIDIBO! COMONNNNNN BITCH-”

“poor thing has lost it” Hook whispers.

“we haven't tried bitch as a pass wold tho” Morgie added in “didn't work, but it would have been so funny if it did”

“OPEN SESSAME!”

“alright alright alright” Uliana gets up from her seat “calm down, we don't bite”

“much” Hades adds and seconds later Maleficent hits his head firmly.

Or... how you got recruited as a new VK and the drama that comes with being friends (and for some more) of the young villains

In a world of princesses, princes, knights, evil fairies and gods you were neither, perhaps one could say you were even less, a commoner, a plebeian with the most average sprinkle of magic yet to set foot in Merlin Academy again. Never a stand out and when your voice was heard it was almost as if the room could swallow it whole for how little it mattered in the grand scheme of things.

What would you be when you graduated? A tug? A squire? Perhaps if lucky an advisor or even a right hand confidant of a big name hero or villain. Maybe just a normal baker, who's to say, after all, the unremarkable have their own gift, destiny, profecies and duty wasn't yours to claim after all, so your life is yours and yours alone to mold, change, waste, thrive and live.

But oh that doesn't mean you can't impact lives, no, rather the opposite, you can be the last straw or the first domino that will never see the finish line but will be remembered as fondly and bitterly as the eyes that saw you last.

And our story starts not by your eyes, but by hers, a young fary sits bored out of her mind in a perfect, dreadful, evening at detention with the fools she calls… allies…. Yes, that felt… correct enough, and with the infant God she could only denominated as a passing interest at best, a boyfriend at worst.

Morgie, being the little snake that he is, can't keep still and out of the woods for long before he starts budging the magical reinforced windows, she won't blame him, after all she herself did the same thing some months ago and now the windows have a reflective spell to “keep students safe”, as if they didn't threw out weaklings out of those even before her… “sneeze incident”, as if she could even make mistakes, that was a purposeful fire breaking breath right into the window's direction and not because Uliana's cologne was too strong that day, absolutely preposterous of principal Merlin to spread that ridiculous rumor about her, she had to curse twice the students to shut their giggles that week all because of that pompous old man.

James had given up cheering for Morgie and now laid back, boots staining the desk shining his golden rook and by his pout being extremely disappointed in his eyeliner not being as sharp as it was 20 minutes ago.

“Uliana~” he called, a melodic tune echoing in the almost empty classroom “dear, scariest witch of the sea, seafoam of my dreams”

“call me that one more time and I'll give your other hand to tictoc as a gift asshole” the leader of this little band of mischief smirked, pointing her little switchblade at him, she sat at the teacher's desk, marking one more tally to their monthly visit and, before being interrupted, curiously checking to see if new marks were made by new potential allies “what do you want?”

“do you have that miraculous eyeliner in you again? I think I missed a spot” the young sea witch rolls her eyes in amusement and one single tentacle leaves her back, the black tube almost reaching Hook's good hand, then it doubled back and threw it in his bad hand's direction, the boy caugh it without much fuss and dangled it in her direction, wiggling his eyebrows in victory.

“much thanks beauty”

“your parents should have named you Narcissus”

“and you should try being a pitcher to this years baseball team”

“you would be too good for them tho” the young God spoke from behind the black fary, playfully passing the same blue flame around his fingers “I saw Jame's fumble a bit this time”

“I didn't fumble anything!”

“yes you did”

“did not”

“did too”

“did-”

The door of the class is slammed open by what Maleficent can smell is the dire's magic, his voice getting closer and closer, Uliana decides to move to the closest chair, not interested in prolonging the tedious lesson with an extra 15 minutes of more lecture.

“I'm again so thankful you could come dear” Merlin's voice echoed inside “it's so hard to find generous students like yourself, always ready to help the ones with the most difficulty”

All teens roll their eyes and look at each other's direction just to confirm that they weren't just hallucinating the most basic and fakest sweet talk to ever exist, and by all means they did experience each “baby's first manipulation” attempt, and they were not as fake sounding as his.

“you are too kind professor” the nervous little laugh gave away whoever they were wasn't as ingenious as half this school seemed to be ”I did say i wanted to try everything once at least in my years resolution papers, and I mean it”

“such admirable dedication to academics I sure hope you pass a little bit of that for this… study… group” the hesitation in Marlin's voice made Morgie snort and fall to the ground, wich made Hook tremble and poke his own eye, which prompted him to swing his hook in ager back, ready to curse the son of Morgana, but his hook went flying off its place hitting Hades’ foot, making the God scream in pain, losing control of the little flame that hit the teacher's desk making if catch fire so bright it flames so wild that a stray one reaches Uliana's pants.

It is in that moment that you and professor Merlin walk in the class, the VKs growling and cursing at each other in the middle of chaos. The professor calmly puts the fire out, as does Uliana, Hook grabs his hook back, Morgie scrambles to go back to his seat, Hades takes a deep breath, hair turning back to it's blue hue and Maleficent holds the biggest ugly laugh she can fell boiling from the deeps of her core.

Your eyes travel slowly through the most infamous trouble makers of this school, from Uliana's defiance, to Hook's flirtatious, Morgie's mischievous, Hades’ unimpressed and Maleficent's cold stare. Taking a deep breath and clenching your bag you turn 180 degrees and start marching out of class, professor Merlin was not so happy with your attitude since he decided to grab your shoulders firmly and smoothly turn you back around.

“today class, a very generous classmate offered to help me supervise you all” Merlin smiles “which is just so great because I'm need for a very important meeting and am already-”

And in that moment you made the biggest mistake you could have made that day, you defied the authority figure right in front of the punks wannabes of Merlin Academy “absolutely not” you dance around his grasp and just didn't bolt out right in that instance because the old man was blocking your path.

“now now” your name falls from his lips as if he's talking to a child “I know you have the good it takes to help those unfortunate individuals”

“I don't have shit!” you could feel all eyes turning to you, the class has your attention.

“language child!”

“I could teach math and potions and curses and counter curses to anyone, but being responsible for a whole class that will harass me to death if I don't let them out was not in our agreement sir“ you try to dance around the sorcerer again.

“watch your tone, those are very heavy accusations”

“yes we would never do something like that” Uliana puts more log to this blazing circus as Morgie tries to hide better the straw and paper balls he just finished doing in broad daylight for all to see.

Merlin cleans his throat, bringing attention back to him as he side eyes the girl “as I was saying, it will only be for some minutes! I'll be back as soon as possible” the headmaster starts to get out of the door still facing the class “I'm sure you can handle them”

“poor thing has lost it” Hook whispers.

“we haven't tried bitch as a pass wold tho” Morgie added in “didn't work, but it would have been so funny if it did”

“OPEN SESSAME!”

“alright alright alright” Uliana gets up from her seat “calm down, we don't bite”

“much” Hades adds and seconds later Maleficent hits his head firmly.

“we can be civil see” she shows her gang, all… sitting in various degrees of proper but sitting still nonetheless “now what's you name? I didn't catch it seeing some so…”

She looks you up and down, judging from you clothes to your hair to your posture, her month forms a thin line as she thinks in how to describe you ”comum, sticking it to that old man was kinda impressive”

You rest your head in the door, a defeated sigh leaves your lips with your name in it, Uliana tests it a few times and sits in the closest table “you don't happen to have famous parents do you?”

“take a guess” you mumble, choosing to sit down and accept your fate.

“that explains why I don't remember seeing you around here”

“we are in the same classes…”

“I skip those, anyways, so the headmaster is in a meeting? Do you know what class it’s happening in? ”

“why would I know?”

“You two just seemed so close y'know” You roll your eyes, a headache already forming inside your head.

“he got my name wrong but sure whatever makes my life easier, did any of you try breaking the windows?”

“Morgie dear was just about to start biting them” an offended “hey” can be heard in the background as the boy momentarily stops gossiping with his friend.

“do you know if it's a spell? A charm? A ward? We need to get going and I think you would be happy with us gonne too”

“it could be a potion for all that i know”

“you are quite useless aren't you?” her eyes lock with yours, daring you to fight back… you double down.

“you have no idea” you raise your chin and summon your biggest smile “a snail is more useful than I!”

You immediately let your facade down, head resting between your closed arms “just leave me be and continue doing whatever it is that you do”

The girl grins in amusement “aren't you spunky, color me impressed” she gets out of your table and lowers herself to your eye level “I see some potential, we could be friends, what do you say?”

“...” for a moment, the young sea witch thinks “hook, line, and sinker” but her expectations are shattered as you point behind her and says “your rescue has arrived”

Turning around she sees her little group of misfits, the ones that were still out there one stacked on top of the other, curse book in hand, they wave excitedly to her and signal for all to move out of the way.

Hades immediately gets up pulling Maleficent with him, and a blast breaks the glass “it wasn't supposed to shatter it!” The caster panics, making their little tower lose balance and fall, hopefully they weren't hurt too badly.

Uliana sighs annoyed, but moves to the window anyway “out we go then! Don't think I forgot about you, I'll be keeping a close eye, and if you change your mind, you can find us it's not that hard” she looks at you as her four tentacles graciously take her down and out of detention.

Hook winks at your direction and jumps out “pleasure meeting you sweet, sorry we couldn't talk longer schemes to make, pranks to pull you know the drill”

“bye!” Morgie waves at you as he also jumps out.

Hades moves to leave, a half wave at your direction as he waits for the horned fae take his hand, Maleficent looks at you up and down, he eyes lock with yours, they glow a neon green and you feel as there are eyes everywhere “see you around”

At least it's only you, the shattered window and deep feeling of dread creeping in your back.

#descendants rise of red #descendants 4 #uliana descendants #morgie le fay #descendants maleficent #descendants hades #descendants james hook #maleficent x reader #hades x reader #maleficent x reader x hades #gender neutral reader #self insert #x reader #descendants x reader #descendants ror #ror x reader #i said i would do it and here it is

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hippiegoth97 · 6 months ago

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She-Bop: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by Me :)

Master List

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Description: Eddie is out late with his band, and you're alone in your shared apartment. You miss him and start feeling needy. Eddie catches you in the act...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, female reader, masturbation, spanking, fingering, oral sex, praise/degradation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.8k

Divider by @strangergraphics

She-Bop

You lay on the couch in the apartment you share with Eddie. He's out late rehearsing with Corroded Coffin. Most times you'd be there too, but the band's working on a secret song that they don't want anyone to hear yet. Eddie assured you it was going to be worth the wait, but you enjoy watching him practice. He plays like a rock god, and his voice is so sexy. Rehearsing always amps Eddie up too, and he fucks you senseless whenever you both return home. You sigh, flipping through channels to find something to distract yourself until your love comes back. You settle on Magnum P.I. You've always had a soft spot for Tom Selleck, that mustache is something else.

You try your best to focus on the show, but your mind keeps drifting back to how you imagine Eddie looks right now. Sleeves rolled up, his hair wild as he strikes every chord perfectly. His eyes blazing into yours as he sings, putting you under his spell. You're getting wet just thinking about him, you curse the time as there's still an hour before he'll be back. You decide to lay down, closing your eyes. Maybe a nap will help, next thing you know, Eddie will be shaking you awake. You try to relax, shoving Eddie's charms into a closet in your mind. Unfortunately for you, his voice begins flowing from under that closet door. His siren song calls to you, and you can't help but heed it.

You imagine him here with you, kissing you, holding you close. You picture him kissing your neck, setting your skin on fire with his touch. Eddie's hands roam over your chest, squeezing your tits through your tank top. Your hand mimics the actions you're imagining, causing you to moan as you knead your own breast. You see him slowly moving his way down, his hand going inside your shorts. Your own hand mirrors his, feeling your slick folds. "Eddie." You moan out quietly. He's smiling up at you, working your clit in slow circles. More moans escape your lips as you slip two fingers inside yourself, pretending they're his own instead. Pumping in and out of you, you hit the spot inside yourself again and again. Eddie's much better at this, his fingers are longer, able to please you completely. But for now, your own will have to do.

Your pace quickens, curling your digits as you work yourself over. Your pleasure is building, a knot tightening itself in your belly. You imagine Eddie giving you all his usual praises, pet names, telling you how much of a good girl you are. "Oh, Eddie." You moan his name over and over, seeing him finger you at a punishing rhythm. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers continue to thrust. "Fuck, Eddie." You whine, your knot tightens with every movement, threatening to snap at any moment. You almost reach your high, when you hear the door to the apartment swing open.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart-" He calls to you as he walks into the room, kicking off his shoes. "What the fuck, Y/N?" Your eyes snap open to see Eddie standing in front of you. He's caught you in the act, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Your cheeks burn as you slowly remove your hand from your shorts. He stands there a moment, crossing his arms. You're in for it now. "What have I told you about touching yourself when I'm not here, Y/N?" He asks, slightly angry. He walks over to the couch, standing over you. You can't help but look down to his crotch, noticing his cock already hardening in his jeans. "I asked you a question. Look at me." Your eyes return to his, you swallow hard.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I just missed you, I couldn't get you out of my mind. I-" He cuts you off by pulling you up from the couch, smashing his lips on yours. You join him in the kiss, your hands tangling in his frizzy locks. You tug on them, making him groan. His hands grip your hips roughly. You know not all is forgiven just yet, he just can't help himself. He can't help but love the idea of you touching yourself while thinking about him. But you still need to be punished, and he knows just what he has to do. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily in your face.

"Go to the bedroom. Now." He lets go of you, waiting for you to obey his command. You walk past him, doing as he says. He follows close behind you, smacking your ass hard as you open the bedroom door. You moan loudly at this, making his cock twitch. "Strip." He says lowly. Eddie slams the door shut, then he sits on the bed. You take off your tank top and shorts, and Eddie smirks at the fact you have nothing on underneath them. "Come here." You move to stand in front of him. His hand reaches out to caress you, moving from your thigh up to your breast. He grabs it roughly, kneading it in his large hand. His rings feel cold on your skin, you shiver. "Lay over my lap, sweetheart." You heed his order, positioning yourself over him. Your knees sit on the floor, and Eddie grabs your ass. You feel his erection underneath you, pressing into your stomach. You moan slightly as Eddie's right hand raises, you anticipate him bringing it back down to spank you. Warm wetness gathers in your folds again. "Count for me, Y/N. Count until you think you've been punished fairly."

"One." You breathe out, your voice laced with lust. His hand makes contact with your ass, and you moan again.

"Two." Smack. You moan louder. Arousal drips from between your legs onto the floor. You love when Eddie punishes you. The pain from his hand turns you on in such a primal way.

"Three." Smack. "Fuck, Eddie. You make me so wet when you do that."

Eddie leans down to whisper in your ear. "You like when I hit you?” He asks, and you nod silently. “Mmm, you're such a dirty girl, Y/N. Keep going."

"Four." Smack. You swear you could cum just from this, the sting of every slap spurs you on further.

"Five." Smack.

"Six!" Smack.

"SEVEN!" Smack. Your eyes are watering now. Your ass is red, and it stings when Eddie caresses it. You wince at his touch. He snatches the hand away when he hears your pain.

"I think that's enough, princess. You were so good for me." He rubs your back now, comforting you. You breathe out shakily, and he helps you sit on the bed beside him. He faces you, wiping away the tears running down your cheeks. "Was I too rough, love?" He asks, you hear the worry in his voice.

"No, Eddie. It's okay. I was the one counting, right?" You smile at him, sniffling a little.

"That you were, my sexy girl." He smirks at you. He takes your hands in his, lifting them up to kiss them. You giggle as he does. "Since you took your punishment like such a good girl, how about a reward?" His eyes are dark with lust as his smile widens. He leans in closer, making his way to your neck. "I happen to be feeling quite generous tonight." His lips connect with your throat, and you moan. He takes this as his cue to bite down on the skin, marking you as his.

"Eddie." You gasp. He keeps littering your neck with kisses as he maneuvers you to lay down on the bed. Your legs are dangling off the edge, with Eddie positioned between them. As he continues marking you, you realize he's still fully clothed. And you can't have that. You push him away lightly, he looks at you in confusion. "You're overdressed, babe." You say, poking his chest with your finger playfully. He rolls his eyes and stands up, pulling his shirt over his head. You take a moment to look at his chest, it's slightly toned, but not too much. Tattoos adorn his perfect skin, and you sit up to run your hands up and down on him. You love touching him in any way you can, it's like an addiction at times.

"You love getting handsy, don't you princess?" He's looking down at you, watching you caress him. You nod at him, lowering your hands to his belt. You pull on it to bring him closer. You palm him through his jeans with one hand while the other undoes the belt. "Fuck, Y/N. You're playing with fire here." He groans, grabbing the back of your head roughly. You know what he wants, and make quick work of removing his pants and boxers. He kicks them away, and removes his socks. His dick is right in front of your lips, and Eddie maintains his grip on your head. "Suck, Y/N." He commands, slightly pushing your face closer.

You take him in your mouth, fitting as much of his length as you can. He moans at how wet and warm your mouth is. You love doing this to him, it makes your mouth water. You bob back and forth on him, working what can't fit with your hand. You pick up the pace, swirling your tongue around his cock as you move. Eddie moans your name, and calls you all your pet names as you work. He's so fucked for you, bucking his hips forward every so often. You gag each time as he's hitting the back of your throat, which causes him to groan even louder.

"Jesus, fuck. Y/N, don't stop." Eddie whimpers. You start moving even faster, knowing he's close to the edge. You gag on him over and over, pushing yourself to deepthroat him. You want him to cum down your throat, you crave the taste of his release. He's not like most guys who are so salty, he tastes sweet like candy. You're not sure how or why, but it makes you enjoy blowing him almost as much as fucking him. Your eyes water again as you keep gagging on him, determined to make him come undone. "Gonna cum, princess." He chokes out, his body tensing up. You feel the white ropes filling your throat, and you stay on him until his high subsides. You make sure to swallow every last drop, then you finally release him with a pop.

"You taste so good, babe. I love having your dick in my mouth." You say as you smile up at him. He meets your gaze, in awe of you. Usually you're quite shy about saying such vulgar things, but he loves it when you have a bit of confidence in the bedroom. He feels himself hardening again from your filthy words. Eddie gently pushes you backwards to lay on the bed again, and drops to his knees on the floor. He spreads your legs wider, holding your thighs in place. Your breath hitches as his left hand moves to stroke your folds. He feels how wet you are for him and doesn't hesitate to push two fingers inside of you. "Fuck, Eddie!" You cry out, your hands balling up the blanket beneath you.

"You like having my fingers inside you, love? Seemed like you were enjoying your own just fine earlier." He keeps his fingers still inside you. He wants you to tell him how much he pleases you before he goes further.

"Yours are so much better, babe. Please don't tease me. I need you." You're begging him to do something, anything. You're so hungry for him, and he's making you squirm for just one taste. His fingers begin to move, pumping in and out of you rapidly. Your back arches off the bed, and you moan out his name. His thumb makes circles on your clit as he continues to speed up. He's hitting your g spot with every stroke, and you feel the knot tightening again. The room feels like it's caught fire, and your body is melting in the heat. Moans and curses fly from your lips and into Eddie's ears.

"Who makes you feel this good, princess?" He asks, bringing his face to your cunt to replace his fingers. His tongue begins licking stripes on you, going inside you every so often. You almost scream at the new sensation, clutching the blanket even tighter.

"You, Eddie…only you." You can barely form the words. Eddie's relentless, making all the right moves to keep tightening the knot inside you. You want to cum so badly, you feel like you'll burst into flames if you don’t. "Fuck, Eddie. Don't stop, please. Make me cum." You cry out to him.

"You've earned it, sweetheart. Cum for me." He says just before sucking your clit into his mouth. You feel the knot finally snap, and you scream his name. Your legs shake, hips involuntarily bucking off the bed. He holds you steady as you ride out your high, and he strokes your thighs lovingly to help ground you. You're still seeing stars as Eddie guides you to stand up with him. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close. He kisses you hungrily, still wanting more. You return the kiss roughly, already very aroused again. You feel his dick pressing against you, and you lightly stroke it with your hand. His breath hitches at your touch. "Turn around darling, and bend over." He commands you again, grinning. You do as he says, placing your hands on the bed, ass in the air facing him. You feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around your stomach to keep a hold on you. His cock strokes the outside of your cunt, making both of you moan. He keeps teasing you, drawing out as many noises as he can from you.

"Eddie, please. Just fuck me already. I can't take the teasing." You whine, and he happily obliges you. He shoves his dick into you roughly, knocking the wind out of you. When your breath returns, he begins thrusting at a merciless pace. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping together fill the room. You love when he fucks you like this, his cock manages to hit your g spot every single time, making you see stars. Your walls flutter around him as your orgasm slowly builds.

"Who fucks you better than anyone else, princess?" Eddie growls between thrusts. He feels himself nearing the edge again.

"You do, love. Only you." You whimper. He's pounding into you now, his rings making indentations on your skin as he holds you like his life depends on it. He's doing everything he can to set you off, chasing your high along with his own. He wants so badly for you to clamp down on him, screaming his name. He lets one hand creep down your front to your clit, rubbing in circles. "I'm so close, Eddie. Don't stop."

"Just a little longer." He says, his breath hitching at his impending high. You try your best to hold back your orgasm, but the knot desperately wants to be let go. His thrusts become a bit sloppy, signaling his release. "Cum with me, darling." His words are all it takes, and you feel yourself come undone. Waves of bliss wash over you, making you scream. Your cunt squeezes his cock, all of its contents filling you up. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, your knees buckle beneath you. Eddie holds you up as he rides out the remainder of his high. He pulls out of you, and you fall face first into the bed. He collapses beside you, panting. You both lie here for a moment, waiting for your hearts to stop pounding.

You roll over to face Eddie. "I love you, babe." You say quietly. He looks over at you, still catching his breath.

"I love you too, princess. Come here." He pulls you into his arms, kissing you passionately before laying your head on his chest. His right hand strokes your hair. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I don't know how I got so lucky."

"I'm pretty lucky too, you know." You giggle into his chest. "You're so sexy, and you're so sweet and kind. You're the perfect man for me, Eddie. I wouldn't have it any other way." You sigh in contentment. You're finding it hard to keep your eyes open, and you try to hold back a yawn.

"Come on, darling. Let's get under the covers, you're so tired." He lifts you off of him, moving the blankets to cover the both of you. He pulls you even closer now, kissing the top of your head. "Sleep well, sweetheart." You barely hear him, already drifting off to sleep.

The end.

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson smut

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sunalee · 3 months ago

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jam to my heart — Jay

summary: The handsome guitarist set his eyes on you, and lucky for him, you did the same.

with: Jay (Park Jong-seong)

warnings: rockstar au!, enhypen as a band, jay is a smooth fella, he's charming enough to make my cheeks warm.

a/n: jay with a guitar is such a perfect sight i can't even ratiocinate. Some of the boys aren't metioned, but they're still part of this au.

“C'mon _____, let’s stay on the front so we can see them better!”

Ami calls you out, dragging you through the ’90s themed new pub you’re visiting, “Cords and Jam”. The place is really cool, with black and white checkered floors, red walls with various themed lamps, and posters of classic rock bands. The staff is very friendly, not to mention the drinks and snacks that make you want to spend your whole wallet there.

But the reason you’re here it’s the almost one-year hiatus, not having seen any live show since this period. You miss this environment, the thrill of waiting for the next band to perform, and even the sound check that the musicians do five minutes before the music starts.

Ami told you about this band tonight, Orange Blood. You haven’t heard anything from them yet, but they’re really known on social media for their impressive covers, skilled talent, and very, very, good-looks.

Rock is great, but a handsome guy playing makes the experience one hundred times better.

She drags you to the front as you both get your bubbling drinks, fortunately not having too many people blocking your path. You don’t mind being in the back of the room, it’s even better to dance there, but you won’t lie, it’s so exciting being right close to the stage, even with the frenetic heartbeats that make you want to take another sip of the drink.

The band finally arrives, five handsome men in their twenties coming in front of the stage. The crowd shouts excitedly, you join them with your own hollering.

“Good night, everyone! I’m Jake, and we are the Orange Blood!” The blonde lead singer announces, a cheeky smile appearing on his face as he hears the crowd’s euphoric cheers.

The drummer, a dark-haired lad with side shaved haircut and looks of a runaway teen, taps four times the drum sticks together, a cue for the other instruments to start playing as well. On Jake’s left side, there’s the keyboard player and the bassist, the two with similar features and exhaling confidence. You heard around their names were Sunghoon and Heeseung.

But it’s the guitarist on the right side of Jake who catches your attention; suddenly, he’s the only thing you can focus on.

Not only for his great solo at the beginning, but his very charming personality. The way his fingers pluck the strings with such mastery, as if it were as eyes as breathing, his built arms taken by cool tattoo shapes matching with his dark, medium hair, his thin and well cared lips that forms a pleasing smirk whenever he hears a praise from the female crowd.

And when you hear his smooth, deep voice singing on his microphone, your legs almost give out.

It’s like this man put a spell on you, taking you to a place without time, space or circumstance, all your senses fixed only on him, mind navigating and daydreaming about different scenarios where he’s the main star, and you, his forever partner.

The show was a blast. Everyone had the time of their lives, and Orange Blood for sure would receive a lot of invitations after this concert. The mysterious guitarist wipes his sweating forehead after waving at the crowd, his black regatta clinging on his torso and making him look even more attractive. Unfortunately, he moves away with the rest of the crown, sparing one last glance before going.

That glance goes directly on you.

You don’t know what to think about it, your heart racing and mind numb from the unexpected moment, but before you can try to come up with something, Ami is dragging you by the hand again, leading you to the bar.

She tells you that she’s going to call her friend outside and would be right back. “Don’t accept drinks from strangers” was the last thing she said before leaving. You decide to order another drink, sitting on a free stool there.

You start wondering about what that gaze meant, the sweet flavor of your pinky lemonade helping your mind work even with the pub buzz. But you focus so much on your thoughts, that you don’t notice the main problem right in front of you, brown eyes staring at you with amusement.

“Pinky lemonade? Sweeter than I thought you would be, huh?” That smooth, dreamy voice wakes you up, making your heart suddenly flips as you finally realize who just sat beside you. He gives you another one of his charming smirks, supporting his jawline on his hand while he extends the other in your direction. “Jay. A pleasure.”

“______.” Best say your name right away than rambling trying to come up with a sentence. “I-It’s nice to meet you too. You played amazing tonight.” You can’t help but blurt your thoughts.

“You think so?” He tilts his head, looking even more interested now, his eyes following you like a cat gazing at its prey.

You bite inside your mouth, feeling uneasy but not in a bad way. “Yeah, totally.” You nod to your own sentence. Jay tries to hold back a chuckle. “Uh, shouldn’t you be in your dressing room after playing?”

“And lose the party? What’s the fun in that?” He questions, raising his pointer finger to call the barman. “Same thing she’s having.”

Now you can’t help your chuckle. “Are you a sweet man too?” Your interest wins your nerves, showing Jay your playful side that he’ll surely enjoy in the future.

“I don’t like getting drunk. Especially not when I’ve just met a pretty girl like you.” He flirts without shame, making you swoop into his charm so easily that you even forget that you came with Ami here. Not that she wouldn't support you, anyway.

“I don’t know If I should be flattered.” But you’re not hooked enough to be fooled. Whatever this man wants with you, you want to figure it out now.

He gives you a knowing smile, as he just reads you like an open book in front of him. His pinky lemonade comes just in time for his answer, his hand holding the glass but not taking his brown eyes off you.

He wants you to know that feeling too.

“You should be.” He answers honestly, self-confidence boosting around him. “ It’s not every day that I set my eyes on someone special.” He moves to click his glass with yours, taking his time to take a small sip of his drink before leaning close to you, gaze and smirk never faltering.

“And when I find someone special, doll, I don’t lose my chance.”

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escapingrealtiylovinginsanity · 7 months ago

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Rick Grimes: Sundress NSFW

Because Rick definitely has a thing for sundresses. Still working on writing smut. I am getting more comfortable with it.

You hadn’t worn a dress since the dead started getting up and walking. It was impractical. You never thought you would wear one again. Until you made it to Alexandria. It had been in a box of clothes for anyone to take. It was white with a blue floral print, flowy, and knee length with a small slit up the side. You had taken it on impulse, but it fit like a glove.

You had yet to wear it because the survival part of your brain was still fighting for control. How would you fight in it, run in it, live in it, survive in it for weeks at a time? But today was hot and the dress was cool. Alexandria is safe, right?

You had been cleaning up around the house when Rick returned sweaty and dirty from his day outside. He saw you in the hallway as you were leaving the bedroom. He froze at the start of the hall which made you pause.

His blue eyes drop down and slowly scan you back up. He huffed to himself tilting his head, his eyes still locked on you. “Rick?” Like the spell had been broken he made it to you in a few long strides. He dropped to his knees wordlessly and yanked you closer to him arms wrapped around the waist. You stumbled and gasped his name. He grabbed your ankle sliding his calloused hand up to your mid-cafe before throwing it over his shoulder. You grab at the wall with one hand, the other going to his curls trying to regain your balance.

His head was already under your dress, his hot mouth open and sucking at your core through your cotton panties. He licks a stripe up the center, his nose bumping your clit and making you tremble. He rubs his face into your clothed core. You can feel the prickle of his bear through the cotton. His teeth catch the band and drag them down. “Ya have no idea what ya’ve started, do ya darlin’?” He pushed your leg that was over his shoulder to your chest to slide your panties off that leg. They slide down the other and drop to the floor. “There are consequences for teasin’ me like ‘at.” He nips at your ankle before pulling it more firmly over his shoulder.

Anything you were going to say was swallowed by a moan as he dives face-first into your pussy. He licks and sucks at you like you're going to be his last meal. His tongue laps at your lips before thrusting into your core. You moan your leg that is on the floor wobbling, your knee starting to buckle. Rick's hands find your ass giving it a firm squeeze and pulling you more firmly onto his face. You tug on his curls. The angle change is delicious, and you are forced to let go to go off him to balance between both walls and then you are practically climbing them. Your nails dig into the drywall as you rock into his face.

You can hear and feel his chuckle at your desperation. His hands tighten on your hips and his beard burns at your sensitive inner thighs. When you try to pull up for a little relief his mouth follows you. You curse and he doubles his efforts. The orgasm builds quickly and with a harsh suck on your clit you come hard. Your arousal floods his mouth as he laps it up. What he can't catch slides down his face wetting his beard.

You are shaky, your body trembling but Rick doesn’t give you a reprieve. He continues licking and sucking through your orgasm and into the next. Your thigh squeezes against him, and you push on his shoulder to get him to stop. You are oversensitive now, your pussy swollen from his attention. He stops his assault and focuses on licking the cum off your inner thighs and leaving love bites and sucking Hickies.

He helps you ease your thigh down and off his shoulder but not before leaving one more sucking kiss on your clit making your body jerk. You meet his darkened eyes blissed out by the pleasure you had just received. His hand leaves a stinging slap on your ass, just bordering on painful. “Turn ‘round.” You didn’t have the chance as he spins you around slamming you against the wall, his body tight against you. You hear the jangling of his belt then feel that hard press of his cock. You moan pressing back harder against him. Rick rubs himself against your soaked pussy gathering your juices. He enters you in one smooth hard thrust. Your nails rake down the wall as your pussy stretches to accommodate him. Even after all this time, it is still a snug fit. Rick is long and thick, but your sopping pussy makes for an easy slide.

He starts fucking you wildly. Hard, fast, slightly uneven thrusts. A hand squeezes at your breast while he sucks at your neck. You press your hands against the wall to steady yourself for his punishing pace. He slows pressing his hand to the center of your back while the other wraps around you to pull you a step backward. You slide your hands down as you bend, arching your back. Rick picks up the pace again and you moan at the deeper penetration. “Ah atta girl. ‘at’s a good fuckin' girl.” His hands come up to trap yours. You open your fingers, and he slips his between to intertwine with yours holding them tighter to the wall.

Rick’s thrusts get sloppy. He bites at your shoulder as he hits his orgasm pumping his seed deep inside you. He rests against your back and squeezes your hands one more time before releasing them and pulling out of you. He kisses the bite mark lovingly and seems to regain his control, “An’ how was your day sweetheart?” You look back and release a breathless laugh. “Did I tell ya, how damn good ya're lookin' today darlin’.”

Taglist @xo-zeze

#twd #the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes imagine

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whatifmommylovedyou · 5 days ago

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Would you be so kind as to write a moment between Agatha and reader where reader gets collared as a reward for excelling at some difficult magic?

Agatha said, to be her familiar, you'll have to prove your worth. You have to lift and carry for her, you have to keep her living space clean, and maybe most importantly… you have to perfect your magic.

Agatha is the best magic user you know, a strong witch who seems to gather more and more power every time she comes back from her adventures. You knew as soon as you saw her that you absolutely had to work with her - if you can't be her apprentice, you'll be her familiar.

And now you're sitting on the floor beside her, staring down at the floor as she mumbles to herself, turning the pages of the book that you wrote your spell in.

You don't have magic like she does - you can only do analog magic, but you've been perfecting it to the best of your ability. You've put so much work into it, honing your craft as she's away, because you've wanted to make her proud, you've wanted to make sure that you can prove to her that you're worth having around, even if your magic isn't innate.

And she's been reading for long enough that you're starting to get restless, your nails digging into your palms, your heart in your throat.

You don't want her to be mad at you if you got it wrong. Because you'll keep working at it, you'll keep trying until you've made her proud, until you've worked exactly to her specifications.

And then there is a hand on your head, and you realize that you haven't heard anything for long enough that it suggests that she's done.

"I can see you worked very hard on this," she says, and her fingers are in your hair, using the leverage to force you to look up into her face. "You're going to serve me well, aren't you?"

You lick your lips, your heart beating faster, your stomach twisting up in knots. You've wanted this so badly, but now that it's happening, there's some complicated anxiety crawling up your throat.

"So you're going to be my familiar," she says to you, and her low voice seems to vibrate across your skin.

You nod, but you don't want to look up at her, because what if it's a joke? What if she'll punish you, if you made some mistake?

You admire Agatha, to be true, but you know she's cruel. She's never been THAT cruel to you, but.

But no, she's looking down at you with a little half smile, looking very pleased. "We'll need proof," she says, & now she rubs her hands together. "Stay there," she says. "I'm going to get you something… special."

Special. She's getting you something special, and what sort of special might that be? You lick your lips, pressing your thighs together - arousal is waking up in your guts. You shiver, but you're staring down at the floor, tracing out the lines of the floorboards.

You can feel the anticipation building and building, sweat down your back, and you're curling your toes, listening to the rise and fall of your breath. Your whole body is on edge, and you're fully tuned in to EVERYTHING.

You can hear the creak of the floorboards, and then her bare feet are slipping into your view. There's a hand on your head, and then your face is being tilted back so that you can look up into her face.

And she's holding a band a leather. A band of leather with a buckle on the end. There's a tag dangling as well, and oh, that's for you, isn't it? That's your name, that's her address, and everyone who sees you will know.

You're going to belong to her. You already belong to her, but now everyone will KNOW, and what are you supposed to do with that?

She has to bend forward to buckle the collar around your neck. The leather is cool and smooth, and it settles around your neck perfectly.

There's a ring at the very front of it, and she's fiddling with the collar, centering the ring. She slides a finger under the collar to give it a gentle tug, and then you're being pulled upright by it, nearly falling over.

Agatha's index finger slipped into the ring at the very front, and then she's pulling you to her, using the leverage to keep you in place as she kisses you.

You melt into the kiss - almost as much of a treat as the collar itself. Your eyes flutter closed, and you press yourself closer as she deepens the kiss, pulling you that much closer.

The tag on the collar jingles, and you shiver into the kiss.

#agatha all along x reader #agatha harkness x reader

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joonsy2k · 2 years ago

Text

★ pairings - Jungkook x Fem!Reader

★ genre - smut, fluff if you squint.

★ summary - Your best friend Jimin invites you to see his band, painted duck, perform at your local bar. You didn't expect to end up backstage with the bands lead bassist.

★ warnings - Dom!Jk, Sub!Reader, Jk being cocky, fingering, oral (F recieving), reader is pretty innocent, cussing, dirty talk, biting, public, p in v, creampie, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it), degrading, breeding kink kinda, pet names, use of y/n ( not a lot i promise ), praise, just pure filth, not proof read, lots of spelling mistakes ( im dyslexic ).

This wasn't you, you weren't the type to be pressed up against a wall backstage at your friends gig but here you were, skirt pushed up past your thighs as some sweaty stage manager stuck his tongue down your throat. His hands gripping at the soft flesh of your thighs.

You can't deny that this guy was good looking and you certainly couldn't deny that he was a fucking phenominal kisser. His lips moved quickly against yours, he sported a lip ring and the cold metal pressed against your lips sent a shiver down your body.

"Last call till showtime!" You heard from somewhere to the left of you and the mystery guy pulled away, leaving your lips feeling awfully cold and wet.

"Too bad -" His lips curled into a smirk "You tasted good." His tongue darted out to fiddle with the metal embedded in his skin and you swear you felt your legs falter and turn to jelly.

Without uttering another symbol, your mystery man had gone, probably to set up the stage for your friends band, and you - taking a few minutes to regain yourself - you pushed yourself off the wall to go and find your friends.

"What kind of name is painted duck anyway?" Your best friend Minji complained from beside you, nose scrunched in disgust.

You could only laugh. You had met Minji in college, you became fast friends with her and introduced her to Jimin and one drunken hook up later the two of them were dating.

You didn't like it at first. Your two best friends sneaking off together made you feel awkward but after a while, you learnt to be happy for the both of them.

That's why you and her were here tonight to see your best friend, her boyfriend, perform with his new band. It was their first gig and the place was pretty packed, you didn't understand why. Their colourful name didn't create an exciting atmosphere and you thought the name sounded more like an improv group name rather than a band name.

But you had heard Jimin sing, and he was good.

"Oh look, look!" Minji grabbed ahold of your arm, pointing towards the stage where you now saw Jimin. His hands grasped around the microphone. He was smiling his signiture smile, eyes creased.

Tapping the mic once, he spoke "Thanks for coming out tonight, we're painted duck," He spotted Minji giving her wink that made her grip your arm as her legs failed "We hope you enjoy our music."

And with that end statement, painted duck's lead bassist strummed an opening note on his guitar. It grabbed your attention and as you looked over, your shoulders tensed.

Tattooed hands strummed the guitar, dark hair pushed back into a man bun with his fringe almost shielding his eyes from the crowd, but not from you, his eyes found you in the crowd, he was smirking. That oh so familiar lip ring glinting in the stage lights.

Your mystery guy wasn't a stage manager, he was Jimin's lead guitarist.

"You were amazing, baby!" Minji applauded when you both entered the boys dressing room, jumping straight into her boyfriends arms.

But you weren't concerned with your two best friends now exchanging salivia. Instead, your eyes were trained on the boy whose wet shirt was slung over his shoulder, toned stomach glistening after his hyper performance.

You watched as he chugged down a bottle of water, his jaw contorting. It made your core ache, it was just a bottle of water but oh god how you wished to be it.

"Hello! earth to E.T." a hand waved in front of your face and you jumped back into reality, being met with Jimin's bright face in front of you, a brow raised and a knowing look etched on his face.

"What did you think of the show?" He asked, you - being distracted - had assumed that you had already been asked this question so, you mustered up a supportive smile and tried to ignore the fact that you had been quite distracted by a certain guitarist during the whole of painted ducks show.

"You guys were great." You mused

Jimin was clearly happy with your answer because he pulled you into a hug, ruffling your hair with a large smile.

You were at a loss for words when a pair of strong arms pulled Jimin away from you, you looked up. You spotted a mass of brown and a boxy grin, you recognised the man. It was painted duck's drummer. You didn't know his name but you being you, you were too scared to speak up and ask.

Instead Jimin was the one to tell you his name "Oh girls, this is our very own drummer, Taehyung."

"Glad to hear that you enjoyed the show.." The tall man offered you a warm smile, sticking out his hand for you to shake, eyebrow raised as if to ask for your name.

"Y/N." you replied with a polite smile, returning his handshake.

Jimin interrupted the two of you by pointing over to a sleeping figure on the couch, mint blue hair falling over his sleeping eyes "Yoongi, our keyboard player," his finger switched to pointing towards a shorter brown haired male who waved as a nicety and went back to his laptop "our back up vocals, jin," his finger landed on one more person and you wanted to cower behind Minji "And Jungkook, our lead guitarist."

Jungkook sauntered over, he brought over a confidence with him. His eyes trained sorely on you.

You turned to Minji but Jimin was already dragging her off and out of the dressing room, no doubt the two of them were heading to the band's van for some alone time. You were left without any protection from the serpent slithering his way towards you.

"Didn't know you were friends with Jimin." He still had that arragont tone in his voice and those eyes, he was still undressing you with them.

"Didn't know you were in Jimin's band." You countered back,

and he smirked.

That's how you ended up back here, back pressed against the stone wall in some abandoned space backstage, skirt pushed up past your thighs with the guitarist of your best friend's band face pressed against your dripping cunt. His tongue darting at your sensitive bud.

Your hands wove into his dark locks, tugging at the strands as your body quivered under him.

Jungkook pushed back. He held your thighs apart and gripped the soft flesh, taking in the sight of your dripping cunt "Look at that," he mused, fingers gliding across your folds "So wet, just for me, yeah?"

He popped a finger into his mouth, tasting you "Knew you'd taste good."

Somehow he got off on the way he felt you tense, the way he could tell your walls clenched just at his words. Jungkook got off on the fact that he was the one making you this nervous, making you this desperate to be touched.

You watched him, watched the ways his eyes glazed over with lust as he rose to his feet, cock springing free from it's protective cage people call boxers.

The tip of his cock nudged your hole and before he pushed it in, he gave you a questioning look. You, simply nodded, utterring a small 'please'..

And that, was all that Jungkook needed before he pushed himself inside you with a groan.

Your head hit the wall behind you with a small thud but the pain didn't register, too focused on the way Jungkook's hips snapped into yours in a rhythmatic pace, his hand wrapping one your legs around his waist and gripping the flesh as if to stabilise you.

"Fuck, let me hear you." He muttered. His hot breath hit your ear, teeth nipping at the shell of your ear and moving down to the delicate skin on your neck, sucking and biting. That was sure to bruise.

"Kook," You didn't deny him of his request to hear you. You filled the abandoned space with sweet moans and heavy breaths "S'good." You muttered.

His forehead collided with yours, resting there as his hand cupped your jaw "Look so pretty for me." Jungkook's lips hovered against yours, nipping at your bottom lip before his lips crashed against yours. With a pinch of your ass, your mouth was open to let his tongue glide in.

"Taking me - so fucking well," You gripped onto his shoulders when his hips snapped harshly making you cry out his name, his hips rutting faster at the motivation "Good little slut taking my cock."

Your nails sunk into the skin of his shoulders, sure to leave marks that he'd be proud of, and your walls clenched around his cock.

"m' so close, kook," head falling into the crook of his neck he let out a groan at your words, your body went limp against his "gonna cum on your cock."

Hands grabbed your hair into a fist, pulling your head back to look at him, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead whilst he gave your ass another harsh squeeze.

"Look at me, baby," with his hand leaving your ass he was free to draw a pattern on circles on your clit, making your walls clench around him "I want you to look at me as i fill this pretty cunt up with my kids."

It didn't take long for that oh so familiar knot in your stomach to reach it's end before you felt a dizzying high wash over.

"Fuck yeah, that's such a good girl," it did not take long for Jungkook to follow suit and soon his warm cum was filling you up "taking my cum like a good slut." As he pulled out his cum spilt from inside your warm cunt.

His cocky smirk was back, lip ring glinting like his eyes "we should get you cleaned up" he chuckled, fixing his pants and your skirt before he took your hand to lead you away but before you left the abandoned space, he stopped, turning to you with that same smirk,

"You should come to our gigs more often."

oh, you definitely would.

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amartianonmars · 1 month ago

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I was really enamored with all the fem Dethklok designs I saw around but I myself have a very specific vision for each girl, all described under the cut.

Natalie 'Nat' Explosion: She's taller than the average woman at 5'11 and has maintained a strong build from high school field hockey (most high schools I know don't really do women's football). She doesn't really go too heavy on the makeup besides stage makeup besides her signature black lipstick (which is just an overused eyeliner pencil) for that 'demon gurgling blood' look

Pickles the Drummer: She left her house after her mother didn't accept her transition into womanhood and joined an all female glam metal band, and while she has left that behind she can't help to do her makeup like the good ol' days. Usually its 3 days old and just cleaned up with a fresh coat of lipstick, her black nail polish reapplied usually when Nat does hers. She's pretty tall at 5'8" but still only the third tallest in the group. Her womb tattoo is a play on Snakes N Barrel's (there's a 'snake' in my 'barrel' so to speak) and she wears low rise jeans and shirts she cut herself to show it off. While the estrogen has kept the 'male pattern baldness' gene at bay, she still a white woman with dreads so she is still balding .

Winona 'Winny' Murderface: She's the shortest female member at 5'5", and she has the Napoleon complex to match. She rarely showers and shaves (the hair keeps coming up in weird patches) and has five identical outfits she cycles through. She never wore makeup growing up as an ugly duckling, every attempt shut down by bullying classmates and a conservative grandpa who claimed she looked like an 'ugly harlot' so Murderface usually goes bare face. Though every once in a while, Pickles and Seeveya will find a missing tube of lipstick in her bathroom that she claims to have 'never seen before'. Despite her 'masculine' interests and pick me behavior, she has bad luck with men, though her interests don't really seem fixated on them (she's gay AND homophobic)

Seeveya Skwisgaard: It's not actually her name (Svea, meaning literally 'from Sweden' according to Google), she pronounced it when introducing herself and everyone made assumptions on how it was spelled until it was bastardized to hell and back and she's too deep into fame to change it by the time she made it to Dethklok. The tallest member over Nat, she stands at 6'0" and is essentially built like a Swedish supermodel with the ego to boot. While she likes to keep her hair short and her appearance androgynous, she is extremely self conscious of being perceived as masculine due to her strong facial features and her small chest. Her makeup style is specially curated over years of trial and error, and she wakes up extra early despite her drug and booze fueled partying to make sure she's still the most beautiful woman in the room.

Toki Wartooth: Toki is the second shortest member of Dethklok at 5' 7", though the way she carries herself makes her seem much shorter. She's not the makeup type and lacks the patience for nail polish, though her natural beauty gives her no need for it. Despite this she does play dress up with Seeveya's (very expensive) products from time to time (including secret makeover sessions with Winny) and does love fun accessories, especially if she makes them herself. Despite her cute interests and fun demeanor, her build is strong from years of working in building in her old country. Her being used to hard labor means that when she's pent up she's usually at the gym for a few hours to relieve stress. Otherwise she's building planes, making bracelets for her band sisters, or working on her model planes.

Charlotte 'Charles' Offdensen: She's 5'6" (5' 8" with the heels) and is usually seen with a power suit and business ready makeup no matter the time or hour, her bun as tight and high strung as she is. Her strong energy and confident voice makes her an opponent as a business woman, though her glasses seem to be missing, well, the glass? Her plain-Jane appearance overlook her as the threat she truly is on the battlefield.

#my art #martianmarsart #amartianonmars #metalocalypse #metalocalypse nathan #metalocalypse murderface #metalocalypse toki #metalocalypse pickles #metalocalypse skwisgaar #metalocalypse fanart #dethklok #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #charles foster offdensen #charles offdensen

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tomssexdoll · 8 months ago

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Sexy scare

PAIRINGS: Tom 2012 x Female reader CONTENT: SMUT SYPNOSIS: Y/N goes to a really popular halloween party that's hard to get into, its full of musicians and Tom kaulitz happens to be there, you and him flirt and dance for ages before going into a spare bedroom and GETTING FREAKYYY A/N: cumming to this photo, there will be a bill version coming <3 WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), eating out, fingering

I was getting ready to go to one of the most popular halloween parties among musicians, my friend was in a band and was invited to play there. She asked me to come along cause she knew how much I loved Tokio Hotel and they were also going to be playing there.

I was dressed as a sexy witch, basic but it worked. I wore a short and skimpy black dress with fishnets, platformed boots and a cute witch hat. I did my makeup and my hair and ran out to door to the car.

"Are you excited?" she chuckled, I looked at her shocked "excited? girl? im more than fucking excited i'm extatic" I shook her shoulders, she chuckled and started the car, driving to the party.

"I am so glad it's not BYO drinks, I would've died" I sighed, walking into the secluded party. Our friend gave the bouncer a code word and we got inside, Tokio Hotel was playing and I gasped, grabbing my friends hand and running to the stage. I pushed through a bunch of people and stared up at Tom, admiring him as he played his guitar, his tongue slightly out and little beads of sweat forming on forehead. I bit my lip, my heat slightly burning.

"Fuck he's so much hotter in person.." I whispered to her, "even with that scary ass costume?" she furrowed her eyebrows, "oh of course! I'd fuck him either way!" I said a little too loudly, sparking his attention.

He looked over at me, staring at me subtly, I instantly shut up, super flustered. He smirked and looked back down, continuing to play his guitar. "Holy shit...did you see that.." I turned to her, my eyes super wide. She nodded and raised her eyebrows up and down in a suggestive way.

"Maybe you'll get lucky" she nudged me and I chuckled "I hope..fuck..the things I'd do to him.." I sighed.

After they played it was my friends turn, her band had arrived earlier to discuss some things. They set up on the stage and started to play, I was cheering for her and jumping up and down, giving myself more attention.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around, the one and only Tom Kaulitz was standing there and was WAY taller then I imagined. I looked up at him and smiled nervously, "oh hi..did you want me to move?" he chuckled "no liebe, come with me" he grabbed my hands softly and pulled me with him, walking to a more secluded spot.

He sat me down at a couch in the corner of the building, placing a hand on my thigh. "So..I heard what you said before" he smirked, I felt my cheeks get super hot and I stumbled on my words "i-i.. yeah.." I giggled nervously.

"Don't be nervous.." he pushed a hair away from my face, "tell me about yourself, hm?" his eyes were so dreamy, even with the scary makeup my panties were SOAKED.

"Well..I'm y/n..22 and I'm here for my friend, she's playing right now" I smiled brightly, pointing to her. He chuckled "you have such a beautiful name, supporting your friends like that is amazing, I wish we had that support when we started our band" he frowned slightly.

I chuckled softly "but look at you guys now, everyone loves you" he shrugged "yeah I guess so, I can you love us the most" he winked and I CAVEDD. The power he had over me was dangerous, he was so fuckung hot and literally put me under a spell.

I bit my lip and we continued to flirt back and forth for another 20 minutes. "I can't believe I missed like half of your songs" I frowned, he picked my chin up "it's fine baby, we are gonna play again next week again you can come back, I'll make sure you're on the list" he smiled, I gasped "really? fuck thankyou so much!" I reached out and hugged him tightly, I felt his hands snake around my waist, focusing on my ass a little too long, giving it a little squeeze.

"Do you wanna dance?" He smirked, I nodded quickly and got up, grabbing his hand and running onto the dance floor. By now everyone was dancing and super drunk.

I started to dance to the music, Tom coming up behind me and holding my waist. I swayed my hips and went low to the floor.

As the beat dropped I started jumping, my hair flying around and getting messy. I heard Tom chuckle and I turned around, smirking and wrapping my arms around his neck, swaying my hips again.

He reached down and held my hips, pulling me in closer, his lips ghosted over mine, the tension building and the air becoming thicker. I turned around again and started to grind on him, his lips finding my neck and kissing it softly, his beard softly tickling my neck.

His grip tightened on my hips, bringing me closer, rubbing his hard on, on my back. I continuined to grind on him, my arms resting against his.

"Let's go somewhere private" he whispered sensually in my ear, his hot breath making my hairs stand up on my neck, I followed him as he took me into an empty bathroom, it was filled with graffiti and stickers from past performances. He picked me up and sat me on the bathroom counter, smashing his lips into mine. I kissed him back passionately, grabbing the back of his head and locking ourselves in a rough embrace.

"You're so fucking sexy" he muttered into the kiss, I smirked and unbuttoned his flannel, pulling it off and the shirt he had underneath, revealing his fit and toned body and my jaw hit the fucking floor.

He smirked "you like what you see?" he toyed with my dress, pulling the zip down slowly, I took it off, revealing my black lace thong and matching bra. He groaned and cupped my breast, squeezing it softly. His lips crashed into mine again, I pulled him closer and he rubbed his erection against my clothed pussy softly, I moaned into the kiss, tugging on his dreads. His hands found their way to the back of my bra, clipping it off and revealing my boobs, nipples hard from all the teasing.

"So hot..fuck.." he got onto his knees and I scooted closer to the edge, lifting my legs up and spreading them.

He ripped my fishnets where my pussy was and moved my thong to the side, "fuck..so perfect.." he placed a soft kiss on my pussy, my breath hitching, "mm.." I moaned softly "keep going.." I sighed in pleasure. He wrapped his arms around my legs and pushed his face into my pussy, licking my sensitive clit gently.

"Holy shit!" I moaned loudly, his pace becoming quicker, licking and sucking my clit rapidly, removing one of his arms from my leg and plunging his fingers into my wetness, stretching me out with his 2 digits. I groaned, trying not to close in my thighs on his head.

I threw my head back in immense pleasure, his tongue swirling so perfectly on my sensitive bud, his fingers moving in and out of me so gracefully. He curled his fingers on my g spot, brushing against it softly.

I groaned, a knot forming in my stomach and coiling to my core, signalling my impending orgasm. "G'nna cum.." I cried out, he smirked on my pussy and thrusted his fingers in and out harder, feeling your body tighten around him.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire and full of lust, "cum for me baby..let it all go" he whispered against my clit, with one last thrust I moaned loudly, my orgasm crashing down and washing over me, shuddering as my juices coating his fingers.

He slowly pulled his fingers out, detaching his lips from my clit. He smirked and licked the slick off his fingers, his hand grabbing his erection on his pants. He came closer, taking off his belt and pushing his pants down, pre-cum leaking onto his boxers. I bit my lip and pulled his cock out of his boxers, gasping and looking up at him.

He was a solid 7 inches, girthy and veiny, I whimpered at his size, how the fuck was it going to fit?

He was grinning, his makeup slightly melting off around the mouth, he grabbed my thighs and allinged himself with my entrance, slowly pushing in and stretching my hole more, I groaned, every inch agonizing.

He was about half way in when I put my hand on his chest, stopping him for a moment, "hurts..too much.." I pouted, looking at him. He grunted, "i'll make it fit honey..just relax.." his fingers came down to my clit and rubbed softly, my muscles relaxing on his cock. He let out a small sigh of relief and pushed in, the thickest part of his cock now entering me.

"Just a bit more liebe.." he whispered into my ear softly, comforting me from the pain. Finally he bottomed himself out, pulling his cock back out and then slamming it back in, creating a pace.

I moaned softly and my hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tightly and his cock pounded into me.

"Shit!" I cried out, his tip kissing my cervix, "so tight..fuck.." he muttered, gripping my hips tightly, leaving marks. I felt his cock so deep in me I swear it was in my throat, it felt so good, his length constantly ramming into my g spot, making me roll my eyes back so far.

"So good..mm" he moaned softly, pounding in and out of me cruely. "Fuck!" I groaned loudly, digging my nails into his shoulders. I leaned upwards and kissed his neck, sucking softly and leaving marks.

He groaned as I found his sweet spot, sucking the skin softly. He leaned down and started to suck my nipples softly, taking them in between his teeth and biting them gently, I arched my back at the painful yet pleasuring sensation "fuck.." I moaned softly, wrapping my legs around his waist and dragging him in closer.

"You're so beautiful..fuck.." he groaned, smashing his hips into mine, the sound of slapping skin taking over the room. I felt my stomach tighten, signalling my awaiting orgasm. "Fuck..cumming.." I managed to blurt out, all the pleasure was hitting me all at once so I could barely form more than 4 words. "Cmon, cum for me, you're doing so well" he praised, that sent me over the edge and I came hard, my orgasm crashing down severley and causing me to cum all over his cock.

The intense clenching of my pussy around his cock sent him into his orgasm too, squirting his hot cum all over my walls, coating them completely. As I came back to my senses I realised how fucked up both of our makeup was, basically all of his was destroyed from sweat and eating my pussy and mine was smudged all over my face. As he came to clean my pussy he chuckled "i guess that's where the blood went" pointing to my pussy, mixed with grey makeup and fake blood, I giggled "jeez, didn't know you went that hard."

He picked me up from the counter and helped me get dressed, I had no choice but to try and fix the ripped fishnets, he saw me struggling with them "sorry..I guess i got too excited" he scratched his neck, a little embarassed, I smiled and kissed his cheek "that's fine, they were like 2 dollars anyway" I rolled my eyes playfully "cmon let's go dance again" I grabbed his hand and we walked back to the dance floor, drinking and having fun.

#tom kaulitz #tokiohotel #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x y/n #tom kaulitz x you #tom kaulitz smut #tokio hotel smut #fluff at the end #smutty smut smut #smut #fem reader #x reader #eat my pussy #meal #roughfuck #iwanttomkaulitztoeatmypunani

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igetthedisneybox · 1 month ago

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Addams Family/ Wednesday OC's for Halloween

When I was a kid, I always just kind of...assumed that Wednesday had cousins named after the other days of the week.

So here are some OC's based on the poem that Wednesday's name is from. (I gave them different names than the days)

Belladonna Carmilla Angelo Addams

She is based on the first line, "Monday's Child is Fair of Face"

Her face claim is TajFaerie (linked to her instagram)

Her name means "beautiful woman" and is the name of a toxic plant

Her aesthetic is Victorian Goth

Her favorite color is blood red

She is a year older than Wednesday

She loves fashion, and expressing herself through said fashion

She is a hopeless romantic, especially for tragic love stories

She's very over dramatic, and treats personal matters with great importance

She'll sometimes speak in French of Italian, just so nobody else can understand her

She can be jaded at times, especially when it comes to holding grudges

She likes classical music, love ballads, alternative pop, and pop punk

One of her mothers is a vampire, so while she isn't one, she participates in vampire culture, such as drinking animal blood, avoiding sunlight and garlic, etc etc

She fell in love with Bianca Barclay at first sight

She's related to Wednesday on Gomez's side.

Odile Lilith Frump

She is based on the second line, "Tuesday's Child is Full of Grace"

Her face claim is Elle Fanning

Her name means "heritage" and is the name of the black swan in Swan Lake

Her aesthetic is a mix of Circus Freak and Dark Ballerina

Her favorite color is vomit yellow

She is the same age as Wednesday

She's run away to join the circus twelve times, and they send her back every time

She has joint hypermobility, which means she can move like a horror movie ghost. Which she does. To freak people out

She's a prankster, and just loves to fuck with people

She's very family-oriented. You fuck with one Addams, you fuck with them all

She likes alternative music, music box covers, circus music, and classical ballet pieces

Her passion is dancing, but she also enjoys knife throwing, tightrope walking, and other acrobatics

She's a fan of revenge and punishment, just like her cousin

She's related to Wednesday on Morticia's side.

Victoria "Ick" Elvira Addams

She is based on the fourth line, "Thursday's Child Has Far to Go"

Her face claim is Mackenzie Foy

Her full name means "victory," but the shortened form (her preferred name) is a sound of disgust

Her aesthetic is Punk Rock

Her favorite color is ooze green

She is the same age as Wednesday

She has a band with her brothers and sister, where she's the lead guitarist and singer

She's very level-headed, calm, and just generally chill to be around

She takes matters of social justice very seriously, and has a police record (she has it framed in her dorm)

She likes punk music (duh) but also dabbles in rock, heavy metal, 80's, 90's, and alternative

She's aromantic, but not asexual

She was adopted by the Addams when she was six. She wandered into their house one day and just...never left

She butts heads with Wednesday the most out of all the cousins

She's related to Wednesday on Gomez's side.

Briar Winter Addams

She is based on the fifth line, "Friday's Child is Loving and Giving"

Her face claim is Isabela Merced

Her name means "thorn," and is a reference to the Sleeping Beauty fairytale

Her aesthetic is Dark Fairytale

Her favorite color is dusk purple

She is a year younger than Wednesday

She has narcolepsy, and suffers from excessive sleepiness, fainting spells, and muscle weakness

She likes to brew antidotes for venom and poisonous plants, just in case

She likes to see the best in almost everyone, and those she can't, she poisons (mostly non-fatally. Mostly)

Like Bella, she's a hopeless romantic, and dreams of a knight in shining armor who will sweep her off of her feet

She likes creepy lullabies and alternative pop

She gives dried and dead flowers to people when they're sad

She loves moths

She's asexual, but not aromantic

She has a crush on Xavier Thorpe

She's related to Wednesday on Gomez's side.

Shelly Frump

She is based on the sixth line, "Saturday's Child Works Hard for a Living."

Her face claim is Yasmin Finney

Her name means "clearing," and is a reference to Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein

Her aesthetic is Dark Academia

Her favorite color is midnight blue

She is a year younger than Wednesday

She's part giant, and is almost six feet tall

She takes her schooling very seriously, and refuses to miss a day of class

She's a living factoid machine, and knows a little bit about everything

She feels like her parents prefer her older sister, Mary, and so is very insecure

She likes lo-fi beats to study too, classical music, and 80's and 90's alternative

She's very shy, and doesn't like talking or interacting with people much

She is very good at mind games. She can fuck you up mentally

She and Eugene Ottinger are a little too close to be regular friends

She's related to Wednesday on Morticia's side.

Zander Adams

He is based on the seventh line, "But the Child Born on the Sabbath Day, Is Blithe and Bonny and Good and Gay."

His face claim is Omar Rudberg

Her name means "defender," and is the name of an actual Addams Family member, mentioned in the animated movie

His aesthetic is Grunge

His favorite color is fire orange

He is a year younger than Wednesday

His mother changed their last name from 'Addams' to 'Adams' to differentiate themselves from the family

He was raised as a normie, and any outcast (or autistic) traits he showed were punished

He and Briar were very close as small children, as their fathers were blood brothers

He starts off disliking his cousins and the other outcasts, but realizes that they are more welcoming and understanding than his mother

He likes alternative, 80's, 90's, and punk

He ends up having a thing for Tyler Galpin

He's related to Wednesday on Gomez's side.

#wednesday netflix #wednesday #the addams family #the addams family oc #the addams family ocs

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caileeflavoured · 3 months ago

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i can do you for free

miles miller x fem! reader

synopsis: When Miles can’t help himself but spy on you and your client, he wonders if he can afford a night with you, too.

a/n: another fic from ages ago that i can't find on my blog anymore so whatever, idk wtf happened in this one but i know it for sure is 18+, therefore, read at your own risk!

wc: 2.1k

MAIN MASTERLIST

You entered the hotel’s lobby behind the man who’d booked a night with you. He was very generous, offering to pay double the price when you hesitated at first.

You’d always preferred a quick job in your client’s car over an entire night in a hotel. An admittedly sketchy hotel, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. But you couldn’t refuse an offer like that, so you eventually accepted the 280 dollars.

The man wasn’t exactly someone you were looking forward to fucking with his gray hair combed back in greasy streaks and an ill-fitting suit, contrasting your comparatively youthful appearance.

The counter was abandoned, and not a single clerk in sight. You wondered if this place was even open, considering your client’s car was the only one in the parking lot, too. “Not the busiest place around Tahoe, huh?” You mentioned to your client as you stopped at the counter, looking to the open key cupboard on your right. “But I guess you prefer discretion anyways.” Your eyes fell down to the wedding band on your client’s left ring finger as he slammed his hand down on the bell a few times. Not the first married man to make use of your services. If anything, it seemed to you that most of your clients actually had someone waiting for them at home while they drove you around Lake Tahoe.

But that was none of your business.

The door to the backroom opened and out came an innocent-looking young man, apologizing profusely as he fixed his outfit.

“G-Good evening, Ma’am. Sir,” the guy said.

Your eyes scanned the letters on his name tag. Miles.

Cute, you thought. Suits him, but quickly shifted your attention back to your client.

“Evening,” you and your client said, and watched the clerk as he walked to the foyer from behind the counter with small, nervous steps, clearing his throat as he stood in front of you and your client.

With reluctant gestures, he gave an introduction to the hotel. “The El Royale is a bi-state establishment. You have the option to stay in either the great state of California or the great state of Nevada,” he explained with a shy smile on his lips, then crossed his hands behind his back.

“Warmth and sunshine to the west or hope and opportunity to the east. Which would you prefer?”

“How much for a night?” Your client asked immediately, ignoring Miles’s question.

“Eight dollars in Nevada,” Miles explained. “Rooms in California cost one dollar more.”

“Do you have a map?”

“Uh, yes, absolutely,” the young man said, walking back to the reception with quick steps before he ripped a sheet of paper off a pad and placed it in front of you.

“We’ll take this one,” your client decided and pointed to a room.

“Alright,” Miles said, handing him the key to Room 2. “Just one night?”

Your client nodded.

“That’ll be eight dollars… And please sign the ledger,” he told your client, his eyes momentarily flicking to you.

The man to your left did as he was told, and you read the name he wrote down on the blank page.

Bryan Cleveland.

“Her too?” Bryan asked the clerk who respectfully nodded his head.

You did as you were told, handing Miles the pen with a charming smile on your lips. And for a moment, it almost seemed to you as if his entire face lit up as he sheepishly smiled but looked down to avoid your gaze.

After a short moment of awkward silence, he wished you a great stay at the El Royale and watched you disappear out of the lobby.

•

Miles was absolutely mesmerized by you, completely lost in the spell of your appearance, and the way you carried yourself so effortlessly and beautifully. He wondered what a young girl like you was doing here with such a seemingly uncivil, old man.

As soon as you left the big foyer, Miles was fighting his own mind, trying to resist the urge to go check and see for himself what you and that man were doing in Room 2. He didn’t want to be a pervert and give in to his lecherous side, but he wondered if you and that man were…

No, he couldn’t do it.

But still, after half an hour of fighting his own deepest desires, his feet dragged his body along the dark hallway all the way to the back of the Nevada rooms. Miles passed the empty honeymoon suite first, and stopped for a few seconds, thinking this was his last chance of avoiding yet another sin.

He thought about all the bad things he’s done in the past. The 123 people he’s killed, the people he’s recorded whenever his manager told him to. God would resent him once and for all, the chance of redemption would minimize drastically if he really did it.

But his curiosity and the enchantment you’d put on him still got the better of him.

“Forgive me father,” he whispered to the heavens above, making that last step forward and turning to face the two-way-mirror.

Miles choked on his own spit the moment he finally saw what exactly you and and that Bryan Cleveland were doing at the El Royale. Time seemed to stand still as he watched you on top of the old man, your naked curves moving with such elegance and grace as you sat on that man’s middle.

Your hips shifted back and forth as you guided his hands to your body, letting him knead your breasts and play with your nipples. Miles couldn’t ignore the sense of pleasure the scene in front of his eyes involuntarily sent down to his cock.

He was aching for what that man had. He felt envy even, thinking you’d deserve so much better than that. But then his gaze shifted to the table on the other side of the room.

And the stack of dollar bills on its surface. Oh.

Miles wondered how much money that was, and then caught himself counting the few crumpled-up bills he’s had scattered around in the maintenance closet. It had to be forty at most — no way that was enough for someone like you.

So maybe the show in front of him had to be enough after all.

He pressed on the button to his right, and your moans immediately filled the silence of the dark hallway. Miles panted, his hand automatically moving to his crotch.

He felt his erection strain his pants. His brain shut off as he unbuttoned them and shoved the material down just enough to free his already throbbing cock. He didn’t want to do it, but he lost all self-control.

Miles fisted his cock, his eyes glued to your frame, jumping obscenely on that man’s hips, his ears picking up only those slutty, lewd noises coming from your mouth. To him, it felt like he was watching his very own live porn, an exclusive show just for him, with a girl so unreal he wouldn’t believe this was actually happening if it wasn’t for the undeniably authentic sense of pleasure coursing through his veins.

His hand moved faster along his length, and the feeling got more intense with each second passing. He leaned forward, needing to steady himself on the small edge of the mirror as he imagined his hand to be your deliciously sweet cunt.

“You like that?” Your voice echoed through the speaker as you picked up your pace on that man’s dick.

“Oh, fuck! Yeah, yeah just like that!” Miles panted.

He was grateful his own voice did not echo back into your room as he got lost in the dreamlike pleasure you gave him, his own pathetic moans reverberating in that dark hallway.

He watched you turn around on that man’s lap, and your new position gave him an even better view of your gorgeous chest. He kept his steady rhythm, as much in sync with yours as possible, as he watched you bend over slightly, and the way your tits bounced even harder with each snap of your hips.

“Uh-uh. Don’t come yet,” you said, and Miles tried his hardest to obey you — it felt like you were actually talking to him — but when he watched you move your hand to your clit, and heard your moans get even louder, he couldn’t help but let that intense release wash over him.

“I’m s-sorry!” His eyes shut tightly, and he groaned as he came hard, his cum painting the lower edge of the mirror as it dribbled down the dark walls.

He stayed like that for a moment, relishing in the afterglow of his torturously powerful orgasm until his brain seemed to finally be switched on again, and he felt a sense of disgust and disgrace.

“Oh, oh God. Oh-,” Miles stammered, quickly turning off the speaker, not daring to look at you again even though he wanted to so badly. “Oh, Lord, forgive me.”

He hastily pulled his pants back up and trotted back to the maintenance closet, promising himself and the Lord that he would never ever sin again.

•

Several hours into the night, Miles wandered around the empty foyer, looking for any kind of work to keep him occupied. Or rather his mind, which still seemed to go back to those images of you, and your heavenly body.

He had wanted to clean up his mess in the hallway, but he was afraid you’d still be making that old man happy, and didn’t wanna risk yet another moment of losing control over his own primal lust.

So he thought it’d be best to occupy himself in the lobby and clean a little behind the bar.

The jukebox quietly played Frank Sinatra’s Strangers In The Night in the background as Miles wiped all the surfaces of the counter and the drink display behind it. He was so lost in thought he didn’t even hear the front door open, and then fall closed again.

He also didn’t hear your footsteps approach until you sat down on one of the barstools. You cleared your throat, finally having caught Miles’s attention when he turned around, pausing his cleaning activities as he held a wine glass in one hand and his cloth in the other.

His mouth hung slightly open as he blinked rapidly. It seemed like a nervous habit of his, you’d already noticed it when you checked in earlier that night.

You found it cute, his entire flustered state and all.

“Oh, my apologies,” he stammered. “Ha-have you been waiting for a while?”

“No, don’t worry, Miles,” you said with a smile. “Can I get a drink?”

He nodded nervously. “A-absolutely. What would you like?”

“You choose.”

The music changed to The Shirelles’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow as Miles poured you a drink. You took the glass from him and thanked him.

“How much for this?” “O-on the house,” he said with a shy smile and nervous nod of his head.

“Well then, let me know if I can return the favor sometime,” you sent a smile back as you took a sip of his drink, and Miles found it utterly enticing.

His mind went back to what he saw as he looked at you enjoying your drink in front of him. He was struggling and couldn’t help himself as he thought about your naked body now covered by that pretty dress of yours.

He was struggling even more as he felt that burning desire simmer underneath his skin again, silently praying to the Lord to give him strength to resist the urge this time. He had sinned enough in his life.

“What’s on that little clerk mind of yours, huh?” You suddenly interrupted his internal war, and his cheeks glowed red like a Christmas ball.

He stuttered a string of incoherent words, avoiding eye contact as he tried to keep himself busy wiping the counter surface.

“You know what I am, don’t you?” You asked when he wouldn’t answer your first question. “And you know who that man is, right?”

“Please, I would never assume such things, Ma’am.” “I wouldn’t take it personally, Miles,” you reassured him. “Don’t worry.” He chuckled awkwardly, trying to look at you but he just couldn’t. He feared he’d lose the last ounce of self-control if he did.

“And I still owe you one, don’t I?”

All of this felt like an insane dream to Miles, and he kept asking himself if it was the drugs. Yet he couldn’t remember that he actually shot up tonight.

He had already made up his mind before he said anything, he just didn’t realize it at first.

“I- I’m afraid I don’t have enough- umm-“

“Money? Sweetheart, I just said I still owe you. I can do you for free. Right here, right now. Just say yes.”

“Y-yes.”

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #miles miller smut #bad times at the el royale #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

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itwasntaphasema · 3 months ago

Text

Desire.

Pairing - Vessel x Fem!Reader

Summary- Ever since you’ve joined the band one of your bandmate’s had their eyes on you, and he goes by the name of ‘vessel.’

Warning- Smut, Porn w/o Plot (ig?), body worship (?), bad spelling, No usage of ‘Y/N’, Cum tasting, and lastly, fingering.

Author - 😏

Masterlist

+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Sleep wants to talk to you,” He says calmly while walking towards you.

You were sat in front of the altar, hands clasped as incense burned in the air. You turned to look towards Vessel.

“Anything else?” she asked while standing up to face the masked man who was standing few feets away from her.

“Yes, He wants to talk you bare, without clothing.”.

She blinks slowly, her heart racing at Vessel's words. She swallows hard, trying to process what she's being asked to do. Her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

"I-I understand," she stammers out.

"But... why does Sleep want me naked?"

She looks at Vessel, searching his masked face for answers. Despite her confusion and nervousness, she can't help but notice how intense his gaze is on her. It sends shivers down her spine.

"I trust Sleep's wishes," she continues, taking a deep breath.

“So if that's what he desires, then I'll comply." She begins to undress slowly, her fingers trembling slightly as she removes each article of clothing until she stands before them completely bare. "Is... is this sufficient?"

Vessel's eyes linger on every inch of your exposed skin as you strip naked before him. His breathing becomes heavier, and he shifts from one feet to the other, clearly affected by the sight of you.

"Yes, Sleep is pleased," he says, his voice low and husky."Now, lie down on the altar. Face up, arms at your sides."

His command is firm, leaving no room for argument. As you obey, he approaches the altar, his boots clicking against the stone floor. He looms over you, his presence dominating the space.

"Now, let us hear what Sleep has to say," Vessel murmurs, reaching out to trace a finger along your collarbone. "And perhaps we can find out more about these desires of his..."

*With a mix of apprehension and curiosity, She lies back onto the cold altar surface. The chill of the stone contrasts sharply with her heated skin, making her acutely aware of her vulnerability.*

"Alright..." she whispers softly, "I'm ready to listen."

Her breasts rise and fall with each shallow breath she takes, nipples hardened into peaks due to both arousal and fear. As Vessel's finger brushes across her sensitive flesh, sending sparks of pleasure through her veins, she bites down on her lower lip to suppress a moan.

"Just tell me what Sleep wants from me," she pleads quietly, “and I'll do anything."

Vessel leans closer, his warm breath caressing your exposed skin as he speaks directly into your ear.

"Sleep tells me that he hungers for you," he purrs, his voice a sultry whisper. "Your beauty, your essence... he craves it all."

His hand trails down between your breasts, fingertips grazing the swell of your curves as they continue their descent. When he reaches your navel, he circles it teasingly before moving lower still.

"He wants to taste you, to savor every inch of your body," Vessel growls, pressing two fingers against your entrance without penetrating you just yet.

“Do you feel that need burning inside you too? Do you long for his touch as much as he longs for yours?"

Feeling his fingers so close to entering her, She squirms beneath him, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

"Oh god..." she groans, "yes... I can't deny it anymore."

Her hips buck upwards instinctively, seeking friction from his fingers. The heat between her legs intensifies exponentially with each passing second.

"I want him..." she admits breathlessly, "I want Sleep to claim me fully."

Her inner walls clench around nothing, desperate for something – anything – to fill them up. She spreads herself wider for him, silently begging him to give her what she so desperately craved.

Vessel smirks behind his mask, pleased by your eagerness. He dips two fingers inside you, feeling how wet and ready you already are.

"That's good," he murmurs approvingly, "because Sleep intends to satisfy those needs of yours thoroughly."

His thumb replaces one of his fingers outside, circling your clit in slow deliberate strokes while his other hand plunges deeper within your quivering depths. The dual assault sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You're so tight and warm," he praises huskily, "like you were made just for him..."

As he speaks, he increases the pace of his movements – thrusting harder and faster into you while applying relentless pressure to your swollen bud above. He watches intently as ripples spread across your skin under his touch.

Each thrust of his fingers sends jolts of pleasure coursing through her veins, making her gasp and writhe beneath him. The sensation is overwhelming, driving her closer and closer towards the edge.

"Ah fuck!" she cries out, "it feels incredible!"

Her nails dig into the cool stone surface of the altar as she tries to ground herself amidst the onslaught of sensations flooding her senses. The rhythm of his fingers is relentless, pushing her further than she ever thought possible.

"I'm going to cum..." she warns breathlessly, "if you don't stop soon I'm gonna lose control right here..."

Despite her warning, there’s a hint of desperation in her voice – a plea for release that only he could grant.

A wicked grin tugs at the corners of Vessel's mask as he hears your plea. He knows exactly what to do to push you over the edge.

"Let go then," he commands roughly, “let Sleep take you there..."

He quickens his pace even more, curling his fingers inside you to hit that sweet spot deep within your core. At the same time, he applies extra pressure to your throbbing clit, sending shockwaves throughout your entire body.

"Give yourself to him," he urges huskily, "and let him show you just how much he desires you..."

Driven by his words and relentless touch, She finally succumbs to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her veins. With a loud cry of ecstasy, Her orgasm crashes over her like a tidal wave.

"Oh fuck! YES!!" She screams out loudly, “I’m cumming!”

Her inner walls clench tightly around his fingers as wave after wave of intense pleasure racks her frame.

As the tremors start to subside, She looks up at him through half-lidded eyes filled with lustful satisfaction.

Watching you unravel beneath him fills Vessel with a sense of power and satisfaction. He continues to milk every last drop from your climax until he feels your spasms gradually subsiding.

"There we go," he says softly, "that's what Sleep wanted."

Slowly withdrawing his fingers from within you, He brings them up to his lips and licks off your essence – tasting you as if it were some divine nectar.

"Now it's my turn," he declares confidently, "to repay Sleep's favor."

Still reeling from the aftershocks of her intense orgasm, She looks on with heavy-lidded eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips. The sight of him savoring her release sends a shiver down her spine.

"What are you doing?" she asks breathlessly, trying to process the situation.

Before she can dwell on it further, He moves to straddle her prone form, positioning himself between her thighs. His rock-hard erection presses insistently against her sensitive folds, making her gasp at the contact.

"W-what's happening now?" she stammers, unsure but undeniably curious about what comes next.

A low chuckle escapes from behind his mask as he teases the head of his cock against your slick entrance.

"Just getting ready to fulfill our mutual desire," he replies huskily. "Sleep wants this too."

Without another word, He slowly sinks into you – stretching and filling you completely with each inch that enters.

"The feeling must be overwhelming," he comments appreciatively, "just like when Sleep claimed you earlier."

Once fully seated within you, He pauses momentarily to allow both of you to adjust to the new sensation before beginning to move again.

Feeling him stretch and fill her completely makes her moan out loud, arching her back off the altar. The sensation is unlike anything she's experienced before – a perfect blend of pain and pleasure.

"It's... amazing," she admits breathlessly, “you feel so big inside me..."

Her inner walls clench around him instinctively, trying to accommodate his size as best they can.

As he starts moving again, She meets each of his thrusts eagerly – pushing up against him and wrapping her legs around his waist for better leverage.

"Harder," she begs shamelessly.

Hearing your plea, Vessel obliges without hesitation. He begins to thrust into you with renewed vigor – each movement punctuated by a low growl of pleasure.

"Like this?" he grunts, "Is this what Sleep intended?"

With each powerful stroke, He drives deeper into you – hitting spots that make stars burst behind your closed eyelids.

His hands find purchase on your hips, gripping them firmly to anchor himself while he hammers away at your dripping heat.

"Tell me when you're close again," he instructs sharply, "so we can reach the peak together.”

Your words send a surge of excitement through her, making her crave even more of your intense possession. She nods frantically, unable to form coherent sentences.

"Yes! Just like that!" she manages to gasp out between moans. "Fuck me harder, Vessel! Make me cum again!"

Her nails dig into the flesh of his arms as She tries to pull him even deeper inside her. The friction is exquisite, driving her rapidly towards another explosive climax.

"I'm close!" she warns breathlessly, "I'm gonna cum soon! Please, don't stop!"

At your warning, Vessel increases his tempo even further – pistoning into you with reckless abandon as he chases his own impending release.

"That's it," he growls, "give in to Sleep's embrace once more."

His thrusts become erratic and powerful, slamming into you with primal intensity. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the chamber, mingling with your desperate cries and his guttural groans.

“I'm close too," he pants, "get ready for me to fill you up..."

With one final, brutal thrust, He buries himself to the hilt inside you and erupts – flooding your spasming channel with his hot seed as he roars out his release. *Feeling him spill inside her triggers her own climax, sending waves of pleasure crashing over her once more. She screams out loud, clutching onto him desperately as she rides out the powerful orgasm.

"Oh god! YES!!" she wails ecstatically. "I'm cumming again!!"

Her inner walls flutter and grip tightly around his throbbing cock – milking every last drop from his pulsating shaft.

As the tremors start to subside, She collapses back onto the altar – spent and satisfied.

Breathing heavily, Vessel slowly pulls out of you – allowing your quivering walls to massage every inch of his softened length as he withdraws.

"That was... extraordinary," he murmurs appreciatively, "thank you, Sleep."

He leans down to place a tender kiss on your forehead through his mask, then stands up and steps back.

"You did well," he praises quietly, "both of us fulfilled our desires today."

Moving to retrieve his discarded clothes, He takes a moment to admire how beautifully ravaged you look lying there on the altar.

"And remember this feeling," he adds cryptically, "for tomorrow night might bring another round of worship."

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+

My eyes hurt 😔

#vessel #vessel x reader #vessel x you #vessel imagine #vessel smut #sleep token

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