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oldiesstationlover11607 · 5 months ago

Note

Begging on my knees for the jealous Gerard fic.

Jealous - Gerard Way x Iero!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption (drunk gerard), smoking, violence, jealous gerard way, panic attacks

Word Count: 2343

A/N: Sorry this took so long! Here we go!!!!

“Bert! Where the fuck are you?” I shouted, running behind our tour bus. We’d been on Warped Tour for a few weeks and it had been the best few weeks of my life. My Chem had slowly been getting more popular but it only been a week since Gee had introduced me to Bert–we got along instantly.

“I’m on the bus!” He responded, sticking his foot out the door. I jumped up onto the bus and see him sitting on one of the benches smoking a cigarette. “What’s up?” He asked, smirking at me.

“Not much. Gee’s drunk as fuck, Mikey’s hanging out with Alicia, Frank’s out with fans and God knows where Ray is,” I laughed. Bert sat there running a hand through his greasy long black hair, staring at me. As much as Bert was my friend, he was always staring at me–which I’m knew both Gerard and Frank would get annoyed at. Being the only girl in a male dominated rock band and scene was difficult, especially with Frank Iero being your older brother and Gerard Way being your boyfriend.

“What’s new with you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Nothing. I like the new hair though, did Gerard do that for you?” Yesterday, Gerard had showed up in our bus with a grocery bag of hair dye, deciding to dye his growing roots red instead of black like the rest of his hair. After talking the previous night about our favourite colours–I mentioned mine was pink–he handed me a bottle of hot pink red-ish dye and we spent the night in the bathroom. I nodded and smiled at him. I let out a yawn and ran a hand through my hair.

“You tired babe?” Bert let out a small laugh before opening his arms to me.

“You know Gerard’s gonna be pissed if he walks in on you guys like that,” Quinn walked into the lounge, a Mountain Dew in his hand.

“We’re just hanging out, it’s nothing more than that,” I looked up at Bert who was already looking down at me with a devilish grin. “Oh shut up.” I grabbed out my phone and started checking my texts.

Frank - 5 unread messages.

Frank - Gee’s pissed as fuck I’m gonna have to come find you in a second

Frank - Where are you?

Frank - He’s literally crying and asking for you

Frank - I’m coming to look around the busses

Frank - You’re not in our bus. Gerard is literally bawling his fuhking eyes out. And I’ve now got Mikey and Ray looking for you as well.

I stared at the little electronic device in my hand–which I couldn’t afford until a few months ago. Quinn looked at me before letting out a sigh.

“Someone’s looking for you aren’t they?”

I nodded–of course he fucking knew that. Quinn knew everything.

“Who?” Bert asked, letting out a sigh.

“Frank. Apparently Gee is asking for me,” I responded, just as a set of footsteps came from the door. Mikey.

“Hey Mikey-boy!” Bert shouted, laughing loudly. Mikey stood there, arms crossed and an unimpressed look plastered on his face.

“What are you two doing? Gerard has been begging for you for the last hour. Need I remind you that you’re dating my brother.” I moved out of Bert’s arms and stood up.

“We’re just hanging out Mikey, nothing is happening at all. Quinn was here the whole time I swear,” I turned my head to look at Quinn who nodded, confirming my story.

“Well we’ve gotta go now, Gerard kinda needs you,” Mikey looked at me with genuine concern. Of course he needed me. We went out into the blazing heat to find the others. Frank was looking around the merch stands with Ray–who wasn’t paying much attention to what he was doing.

“Where the fuck were you?” Frank ran up to me, a mixed expression of ‘pissed off’ and worry plastered on his face. Mikey spoke for me.

“Hanging with Bert and Quinn.”

“Where’s Gerard?” I asked, ignoring the topic. Frank looked towards our tour bus and then down at the ground. Immediately I turned walk towards the bus but was stopped by a hand wrapped around my wrist. Mikey.

“I’ve never seen him like this before, just be gentle with him.” Mikey’s definitely seen Gerard at both his best and worst.

Walking towards the tour bus, I took a peek through the door but didn't see anyone sitting in the main lounge. I hopped into the bus, knowing Gerard was probably laying in his bunk.

“Gee?” I muttered, pulling back the curtain. He looked like crap. Drunk and exhausted.

“Baby?” he rolled over so he was facing me, the smell of alcohol wafting into my face. I'm disappointed in him.

“I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna drink anymore,” I tucked loose strands of his messy hair out of his face, finally able to see him properly.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened,” he moved over, making just enough room for me to sit at the end of the bed. Grabbing his phone, he started flipping through text messages and notifications.

“Next time you want a drink just come find me, I was hanging out with Bert and Mikey came in all freaked out about you. He’s your little brother Gee, you need to be a good role model,” I sighed, holding his hand. Gerard just nodded, not paying attention but I knew the message was going through.

“Wait, why were you hanging out with Bert?” He looked up from his phone with a slightly annoyed expression.

“I got bored so thought I’d spend some time with the other bands.”

“Then why the fuck is Quinn texting me about how Bert’s trying to quote ‘put the moves on you’?” Wait? What? What the fuck. Quinn? Bert wouldn’t try to do that, I was dating one of his best friends for god’s sake. I sat there speechless, looking at him with a blank expression. It was clear he'd already made up his mind as he got out of his bunk and started putting his shoes on.

“No, don’t do anything that’s going to mess things up, you’re already drunk,” I begged, grabbing hold of his hand.

“I’m not going to let that dick try and take you away from me. It already took me 3 years of being in love with you to actually have the guts to ask you to be my girlfriend, I’m not losing you now,” he ran a hand through his greasy black and red mop of hair. I sighed, knowing there wasn't much I could do to stop this. Gerard stopped for a second, looking at me up and down.

“You know I love you, right?” Of course I knew that. I'd known that since the day he told me he loved me, nothing had ever changed. I just missed the person he once was–the real him. Looking up at him, I nodded with a small smile resting on my lips. His hands reached down to cup my face as his forehead met mine. “You are mine, and it’ll always be that way.” He leaned down to kiss my upper lip, the taste of beer lingering for a while after he pulled away. “I’m going to talk to him, are you coming or not?” He grabbed his hoodie and stood, towering over me.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

We both walked over to The Used’s bus and Gerard stood just outside the door. He gestures for me to get onto the bus and as I took a step I was immediately met with Bert and Quinn shouting at each other, stoping once they saw me.

“I thought you went to find Gee. Did you come crawling back for more?” Bert let out a laugh and moved towards me, arms spread out. I took a step back, bumping into Gee's chest, the slight chuckle he lets out hitting me hard.

“What do you want?” Bert sighed.

“Why the fuck did I find out that you were spending time with my girlfriend through Quinn?”

Bert turned to face Quinn who shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know man, she came here to hang out while you were off getting drunk. I didn’t do anything she didn’t want me to do.”

Well, that was going to set Gerard off.

As if on cue Gerard launched at Bert, punching him in the face. Quinn tried to separate them as fast as he could but they were both stronger than him.

“Go get Frank, he’ll know what to do!” He shouted over the two. I ran out and scanned the immediate area. Where to fuck was everyone? Ray and Mikey walked past me, both looking slightly concerned at my state.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Ray asked.

“Where the fuck is Frank? Gerard is literally fighting Bert in the bus. Quinn told me to go find him.” I was breathless and sweaty, finally feeling the impact of the heat. Mikey was already running towards the bus as Ray took me to find Frank. It felt like the world was closing in on me. “Ray,” I panted, knowing he couldn't hear me, too busy looking for Frank in the crowds of people. “Ray.” He rans towards a nearby tent, finally laying eyes on my brother. He says something to Frank, who looks over to me. It was a hot day–hotter than a normal warped tour day. I couldn't remember how much water I'd had but I stood there watching Frank look at me, squinting his eyes. “Ray.” I muttered before everything turned black and I hit the ground.

...

“Holy shit is she dead?” Bert’s voice.

“She’s not dead you dickwad, she just passed out.” Frank. I felt and heard people shuffling around me but the air in the room was cold, so I must've been inside.

“I feel terrible. This is all your fucking fault Bert, she wouldn’t have gone looking for Frank if you didn’t fucking cause this problem.” Gerard.

“Well you were fucking drunk.” Again, Bert. A hand tucked strands of my hair behind my ear, which I could only assume was Gerard’s or maybe Frank’s.

“Would you two shut up, I’m actually worried about her,” Mikey’s voice was quiet and shaky. He sounded like he’d been crying.

“She’s gonna be okay Mikey. We got to her fast. I think she’s waking up anyways, see she’s trying not to smile,” Ray laughed. He’d caught me. I opened my eyes and let out a small laugh.

“Stop it,” I dragged out trying to sit up slowly. “How long did it take for you two to stop fighting once you realised I was dying?”

Frank laughed loudly. “That’s the first thing you want to know?” I looked around at Gerard who was staring at the ground. “It took them 15 minutes to properly stop bickering once we brought you inside.”

“I’m sorry.” Gerard’s voice was flat. He was sober now.

“Mikey?” I ignored Gerard to focus on the boy that was sitting on my right side. “Are you okay?” I asked as I caught him wiping away tears.

“You scared the shit out of me.” He looked down at me.

“Oh Mike. I’m not going anywhere,” I pulled him in tight for a hug. “Could you guys maybe leave Gee and I alone?” I looked at Frank as if he was the one to make the decision. He was going to say no.

“Alright, come on guys,” he said, shocking me. Frank escorted everyone out before flashing me a quiet smile and leaving.

Gerard and I sat there alone in the room.

“What happened, Gee?” I started before he had the opportunity to.

“You got dehydrated. I’m sorry baby, I’m so sorry–”

“Stop it. You don’t need to be sorry. I just want to know how I ended up on our bus.” Gerard nodded and explained that Frank had carried me onto the bus and Ray ran to tell everyone else. I watched him explain, trying to find the right words. He looked nervous. Like the first time he told me he loved me.

“–And then you woke up,” he finished.

“You’re so pretty when you think I’m mad at you Gee,” I smiled softly.

“What?” He laughed nervously, an unsure grin growing on his lips.

“I’m not mad at you, I just wanted you to stop fighting with Bert. And stop drinking.”

He moved so I was sitting in between his legs, his arms wrapped around me.

“I’m trying to stop drinking. It’s just hard for me.” He nuzzled his head into my shoulder.

“I love you so much. I know you can get sober if you really want to but right now it’s really hurting our relationship. Just remember I love you though.” I turn around so I’m straddling him and cup his face.

“I love you too baby. I’m sorry I got so worked up about Bert,” he pressed kisses on both my left and right temples, moving down my jaw till he reached my lips.

“Gee the others are gonna be back any minute,” I mumbled, running my fingers through his hair.

“Let them see.” He pressed his lips to mine like was desperate for me. Gee’s lips had always either tasted like alcohol or a mix of vanilla and diet coke. He deepened the kiss by grasping the back of my neck.

“Would you two get a room?”

Frank and Mikey interrupt us in a roar of laughter. I got off Gee and he stood up, lifting me onto his back–giving me a piggyback ride to the bunks.

“Have fun you two!” Frank giggled.

REQUESTS OPEN

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coldlovehotblood · 2 months ago

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Heyyy, i LOVED your writing so if possible, could you write a Izzy x rockstar! reader where the reader is the frontwoman of an all girl band, and she's like, a femme fatale yk those vibes

Izzy/ gnr and her/ her band have know each other for about 1 year, but these two are like, OBSSESSED with each other so so in love but they prefer to just keep flirting subtly and blah blah blah until in her birthday, they have their first time (finally)

Ma'am I'M BEGGING for some filthy eye rolling juicy smut (only if you're comfortable ofc) and some fluff to keep the balance hihi 🧘‍♀️

˗ˏˋ✩ˎˊ˗

PRETTY TIED UP (p.1)

The persona you’d created as front woman of a major band comes crashing down. Strong liquor paired with your hungry heart lead you to places you thought never possible: the other side of your crushes bed.

w/c: 3,205

warnings: alcohol consumption

a/n: so umm.. *gulps* hello anon from december! this spiralled completely out of control and somehow ended up so big it needs to be split into two parts. life, writers block and working on too many things at once have all been eating at me. sorry for the wait. i hope it was worth it😇 big thank you to @rocknrolldecadence for being a star as always

dividers by @/strangergraphics

Your manager threw open the door and launched a folded magazine at you with a growl.

“When will you lot be done with this heartthrob bullshit?! You know, I can’t clean up for your asses forever.”

You grimaced as he paced (read: stomped) back and forth by the doorway of the dressing room your group had been given. It felt as if someone was chipping at your skull with a chisel, and the addition of your manager’s huffing and puffing wasn't helping to ease the harsh thump between your temples.

The poor makeup artist's hand started to tremble slightly above your bandmate's brow at the sight of the man’s agitation. You couldn't really blame them. He was intimidating. It took years to become used to seeing how easily he flew off the handle, and a couple more to realise that it was all in good faith. He was tall and brawny, made of sharp edges and biting words, seemingly built for battle and not spitting through phone receivers for the majority of the day. There was this eternal furrow to his brow that made him look as if he was glaring at every person he met, and honestly, he probably was.

“Quit your whining. You read the job description years ago.”

“Yeah, well nowhere did it say ‘convincing the media every story they catch wind of is fake news’ would be on the daily agenda.”

Your drummer groaned and reached to grab a water bottle from the floor, voice snarky as she commented, “Read the fine print next time, then.”

“You shut up,” he snarled through his teeth, jabbing a finger in her direction as she rolled her eyes, “because I'm not just talking to miss centre stage here. All of you need to be a bit more careful about where you show your faces and who you hang around. I’m only after seeing this headline, and I swear to God, if even one word of it is true, I am disbanding you.”

“Sure you will,” you yawned, reaching for the magazine that had landed beside you.

'ROMANCING ROCK STARS REUNITE: Pour Femme members photographed once again sharing drinks with rock and roll powerhouse Guns n’ Roses, further feeding fan theories of unspoken courtship. Read more on page 5!'

“Ooh, what have they said about us this time?” your bass player wiggled a bit in excitement from the other side of the sofa, “Did they get my good side?”

You flicked through to page five and turned it in her direction. Some other members craned their necks to have a peek too.

“See, this is why I don't mind that magazine. I look great—”

“It doesn't matter how you look! It's your other image I'm worried—” he sharply exhaled, pinching his nose bridge to centre himself before continuing, “What I'm getting at is that we've been through why you shouldn't be seen with some other artists in public, especially those guys. If you had even an ounce of common sense, you wouldn’t have to put up with me giving you an earful every minute!”

You gazed down at the spread. Your bandmate was right, she looked amazing. You all did in the low light of the Whisky A Go Go, smiling and laughing. Your lead guitarist was leaning over the table to pour another round of whiskey into everyone's glasses, beaming wide at something, if you remembered correctly, Duff had said. Slash was leaning in towards your drummer’s ear, probably shouting over the electric buzz of screaming people and loud live music. It had been a good night out. You smiled, recalling the trek home being full of cheers and laughter.

That smile dropped as soon as you spied yourself. Your glass was raised to your lips, eyes cast to the other end of the table. No, towards Izzy Stradlin.

In the previous year, you and your band met Guns n’ Roses at an award show. The interaction caught the eye of the public, as you couldn't turn the radio on without hearing the gritty drone of electric guitar from one of Pour Femme’s hit songs or really any GNR song at least once. The two were big names, so of course, fans went bonkers when they saw their favourite bands conversing.

You admired GNR. They were great, their music was phenomenal, and you had to admit, all of them were handsome as well, but someone that you couldn't seem to stop thinking about was Izzy fucking Stradlin. You loathed that fact.

You hadn't really spoken to him that night, and in general, very few words had ever been shared. But there was no need for them, for the tension that hung thick like smoke when you shared a room said enough. He was alluring in every sense of the word. You wanted to know more, but he never gave you the chance. In fairness, you didn't give him one either…

Look, you pranced around the idea of having a proper conversation with him because you had a reputation to uphold. You earned the title of notorious heartbreaker many magazine issues ago, and fans went insane for it. You were keeping up an image, and clearly, nothing ever stays private when you live in LA.

You closed the spread up hastily, pages warping at the sides from how tight your grip had become, and dropped it beside you, reaching for your temples instead. You’d had enough of thinking about him. The focus should've been on the performance just minutes away, and your birthday the day after. It was supposed to be a good day. You weren't about to let yourself ruin it by thinking about something so trivial. He was good-looking, yes, but there was a time and a place to be admiring him that wasn't in the dressing room before going on stage.

Some small, needy thing in your brain called out to you— ‘Would there ever be a time when you'd let yourself truly look at him?’

One of the stage crew peeped their head around the door frame to give a five-minute call. You heaved a sigh and pushed yourself up off of the sofa. You’d settled on thinking about it later.

The next day, your bandmates woke you up with a shout, jumping on your bed and singing silly, screechy versions of ‘Happy Birthday’.

You don’t know when it happened, but you got to an age where you didn’t see a point in doing anything on your birthday. It was a great excuse to eat a little more unhealthy than usual and go easier on yourself, but you saw no reason for extravagant celebrations.

“Fuck off,” you mumbled, pulling your quilt up over your head.

“It's your birthday and you're acting like a grump?! Booo!” your bassist teased from your bedside as they shook you back and forth.

“Get up! I didn’t make a cake this morning for you to not even look near it,” a voice called firmly from the doorway and you made your displeasure known with an overdramatic groan, muffled by the covers.

“Come on! We have a couple of things to do before tonight so get your ass up!”

Someone pulled the covers fully down and you blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden burst of light. “What’s happening tonight?”

“Obviously we’re all going out. I refuse to let you sit in this apartment and be all sad about getting older like last year. No chance.”

Of course, it was your guitarist who was taking charge of this assault. You knew how stubborn she could be, and therefore simply did as you were told, slipping out of bed and wandering to the kitchen with the rest of them trailing you like ducklings. You wanted to be mad at all three members for ganging up on you, but you couldn't find it within you to keep up the irritated furrow in your brow. It was nice to know they cared and wanted to see you happy, and they looked so pleased with themselves when you lit up at the sight of the cake, squealing and nudging each other excitedly. How were you ever supposed to be firm when they had such good intentions?

The three of them took you to lunch, afterwards tugging you in and out of an absurd amount of shops, telling you to choose something and insisting they would pay. You ended up back at the apartment with more bags than reasonable. They were having none of it when you started to argue that all of the presents were entirely too much, instead pushing you into a chair and playing dress-up, adding to your makeup, doing your hair and making you model all the clothes they’d bought you.

One thing you had managed to stand firm on saying no to that day was going to a club. They had wanted so desperately to bring you to one, begging with big, sparkly puppy eyes.

“Come on!” your bassist pleaded, actually clasping her hands together and leaning your way, sweetening her voice the best she could, “It’ll be so good. We promise to go easy on the booze–”

“Uhh no? That's the point–” your drummer was silenced by an elbow to the ribs.

“We promise to keep it light until we’re home again.”

You shook your head at the two, a smile creeping onto your face against your will.

“It would be fun to go to one. I know she was talking about going to the Whisky tonight,” you jerked your head towards your guitarist who was rifling through every item of clothing you owned, “But I just don't think I would enjoy myself. I want to have fun with you all, but where can we have fun without the media breathing down our necks and watching every move we make?”

“I mean,” your bandmate spoke with a raised voice, knowing the sound would be slightly dampened by her position. She was basically downing in clothes at that point, “we could always go to The Cathouse.”

“Yeah, sure, let’s go to another habitat of GNR’s. Our manager would rip us a new one.”

“No, that's actually a good idea. I like it in there.”

“What?! You’ll go to The Cathouse but not The Whisky?”

You shrugged your shoulders before simply replying, “Apparently the Whisky can't be trusted. That spread had a great picture of us, but it’s proof we’ll get no privacy.”

Just then, your phone rang, buzzing against the vanity you sat beside. You picked up and were met with your manager's gruff voice.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, but I'd like to think I know you a bit better than that,” you spoke, admiring your bandmates' artistic skills in the mirror as you did, “What's wrong?”

He had his moments in which his well hidden soft spot for you all shone clear as day, but he never called just to say nice things.

“You lot better behave yourselves tonight. If I wake up tomorrow to your faces all over the news or on the front page of another magazine for the wrong reasons–”

“I’ve told them already to be sensible. We’ll be fine.”

“Who is that?” your drummer questioned leaning closer to hear the voice coming through.

“Our dear manager telling us to behave.”

“Oh for fuck sake! Get off our backs and mind your own business!” your guitarist yelled, coming towards you with an outfit in hand and signalling for you to give her the phone. You traded items. She leaned against the vanity and sighed deeply in annoyance. Even from a slight distance, you heard your manager's static voice ring loud and clear.

“Shut up you!” he bellowed back, loud enough your guitarist flinched slightly and had to pull the phone further from her ear, “You all need to start listening to me! Some of these days, one of you is going to get into bother for one reason or another. I will not take any shit from anyone on that fateful day because I have done nothing but try and keep you all on the straight and narrow–”

“Yap, yap, yap! Go jerk off or something!”

She quickly hung up as his outraged roars became deafening, putting your phone back in its original position.

“Put this on and then we’re leaving.”

It was relatively quiet as the four of you walked in, expected for a random Wednesday night. You may have been a bit overdressed for a mostly empty bar, but getting ready was half the fun. It was worth it when you were able to strut through the entrance knowing you looked hot. The outfit your bandmate put together, highlighting your best features. The makeup another had carefully done for you, making you look striking. Head-turning even. Dressed up, you felt confident. That was all that mattered.

You all filed in one after the other, talking and laughing as you went, but the smile on your face dropped when you saw who was sitting at the bar, sporting a brilliant grin of his own and tilting his head back to swallow the rest of his drink. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat, watched as his dark hair fell back around his face once upright again, unaware of your group, instead focused on something his own bandmate, whom you recognised as Steven, had said.

The night suddenly didn’t look so fun anymore, and it hadn't even started yet. You did not expect them to be there. It was an odd night in the week to be out drinking in a bar. Why on earth would they be out having drinks?! It was only three of them sitting there on the bar stools: Steven, Axl and him, but two of their unit missing didn’t make you feel any better about it. You might not have even minded it, but Izzy's presence made you unsure, a nervous shiver making its way through you.

There was a reason you kept yourself a distance away from him. You knew that if you got to know him properly, you'd end up in it too deep because you found him devastatingly attractive. From the shape of his lips to the way he carried himself, he was flawless in your eyes.

You longed to chat casually over a drink or two. You longed to charm him a bit and see how, if he was even interested, he'd reciprocate that curious flirting. But you felt like you had to stay away as you feared both of your reputations. Celebrities dating was nothing new, but when things went south it left a bruise on each of their images.

At the height of Pour Femme and Guns n’ Roses’ careers, that was a far from ideal situation.

Your bassist noticed how your steps had become hesitant, leaving you half-hidden behind the other two. She asked if you were okay, eyes worried. You looked at her, bit your lip and looked back to the three men sitting at the bar. She followed your gaze and sighed when she realised, slowing a tad to match you as your other two bandmates walked on. They either didn’t notice or just didn’t care, too engrossed in an argument over something no doubt ridiculous. Your drummer's eyebrows only ever furrowed like that if they were trying to explain something, which was not an area they excelled in.

“Ignore them,” your bassist whispered, leaning very slightly towards your ear.

“I love you, but that might be one of the stupidest things to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Okay fair. But look,” she said your name gently, “You can't run from him forever. I get why you are doing this, but… Why not loosen up a bit? Just for tonight.”

Your face twisted up against your will and she playfully pushed your shoulder with her own.

“Come on. There's no media here, you look smoking and it's your birthday. You should be allowed to have a bit of fun on your birthday of all days.”

You considered her words. Maybe you were a bit too cautious when it came to him, but so what? You had good reason to be! Although your worries were justified, she made a good point. You should've been allowed this at least. If you weren't going to get shitfaced, you'd let yourself have that wiggle room.

Just for the night.

You sharply inhaled through your nose and straightened your back, looking your bandmate dead in the eyes and nodded. She let out a quiet squeal and threw an arm over your shoulders, tugging you in for a side-hug.

“Go get 'em girl!”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the bar, stride more sure than before. If you were going to do it, you needed something in your system.

Your two other bandmates had already taken their seats, of course, sitting right beside the three men your gut screamed at you not to look near for even a second, so you didn’t, instead going to the free seat right beside Izzy at the other end of the bar and ordering yourself something strong.

You were shuffling your stool in when you heard his voice.

“Brave choice for your first drink.”

“Well, you’ll get nowhere without bravery.”

He hummed and a beat passed before he spoke again, “Who taught you that?”

“No one. I learnt it with time.”

“Interesting.”

Your drink was placed in front of you and you thanked the bartender, winking at them.

“I don't think I've ever properly introduced myself, but I also don't think I need an introduction.”

“Cocky,” you said with a smirk, raising your glass to your lips and taking a swig, ”I assume I don't need one either.”

He said your name. You’d imagined him doing this, shaping his mouth to fit around the word, low timbre making it sound almost like a purr, but your imagination did a poor job at doing the real thing justice. You liked how it sounded coming from his lips. Very much so.

“Of course, I know you. Those magazine journalists can't seem to keep your name out of their mouths. They say a lot about you, you know.”

“I'm aware.”

You felt him looking at you before spying him doing so from the corner of your eye, observing you as you studied the liquor bottles lining the wall behind the bar. You waited for the prickling sensation like insects burrowing under your skin that often came with unexpected eyes, but it never came. His gaze didnt feel as… intense as you imagined it'd be. Actually, it felt good. You liked knowing he was taking a somewhat interest in you. It was exciting.

“Magazines talk a lot of shit,” he started suddenly, and you giggled.

“Tell me something I don't know.”

“It’s unbelievable the amount they've spewed, and yet, after all of those paragraphs, I still don't really know anything about you.”

“Well then. Here’s your chance to shoot,” you said quietly, looking him straight in the eyes as you went for another sip of your drink, an easy grin still on your lips despite the sweat gathering in your palms. He mirrored your expression.

part 2 here!

#izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin x reader #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #can you tell i’m obsessed with this divider🤤

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

Text

Icarus Part 1

Hello! I know there are a few minutes left of the poll, but there is nothing that could happen in the next 15 minutes that is going to change the outcome.

3 to 1 in favor of the main story first. The only reason I asked, was because that story has been finished a long time, but this one is just getting started. But the masses have spoken.

Original prompt here.

Summary: Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys made it big right out of high school. So big that Metallica could open for them. Outselling the biggest bands and artists. They are huge. Then a small little indy metal band called The Fallen comes on the scene. They wear hoods and masks and go by aliases. Eddie (and most of the rest of the metal scene) are dismissive of them. More splash then talent.

Only fans don't thinks so. So when Dustin takes him to one of their concerts Eddie learns two things.

One that they are super talented.

And two, that he knows at least of one the members' of the band's real identity.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @redfreckledwolf @emly03 @itsall-taken

****

Getting out of Hawkins had always been the dream. Being able to do it with three of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing with their music? That was the cherry on top of the icing.

But Eddie never dreamed that Corroded would outsell one his favorite bands of all time. Never even crossed his mind to dream about.

But there it was in black and white. Corroded Coffin was the highest grossing band of the year. Metallica was seventh. Fuck they had outsold Taylor Swift for Christ’s sake.

Barely.

But it still counted damn it!

What was a surprise was the number nineteenth best selling band of the year. A band he’d never heard of before. The Fallen. It said the genre was metal in that little italic font.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Yeah, it was impossible to listen to every up and coming metal band. But if they had already hit this big with only their second album, surely Eddie would have heard them on the radio.

Only on their last tour Chrissy Cunningham, their beautiful and amazing manager had put an embargo on the radio because the riffs were finding their way into Eddie’s song writing. So he guessed it made sense that he hadn’t heard of them.

So he called the one person he knew who would have all the details on these guys.

“Dusty!” he greeted when the man picked up. Man. Shit, when did they all get so old?

“Eddie!” Dustin greeted back. “Finally back in town?”

Eddie grinned. “You know it. Dude, you know my tour schedule better than Chrissy does.”

“Maybe.”

He laughed. “Guess who hit the top of the most successful metal bands of the decade?”

“Oh my god!” Dustin screamed. “That’s so cool! Is the issue out on stands yet or did you get a sneaky peak for having made it to the top of their list?”

Eddie winced. “Sadly the later. But! I can bring it over to show you when I come to hang out.”

“That’s acceptable,” Dustin said. “Steve just got back in town, too. That label he works for sure does like dragging him all over the world.”

Eddie hummed. “Yeah? Where’d they send him this time?”

“Japan if you can believe it,” Dustin huffed. “He basically came home sometime around midnight and just crashed.”

Eddie didn’t know what Steve and Robin did for the studio, no one did. But the general consensus was that they were dogsbodies of some sort. Getting coffees for execs and stars, driving them places. Just stuff they didn’t want to hire out for, they made Robin and Steve do.

“I won’t be waking him up if I come over, will I?” Eddie asked, biting his lip. He had a crush on the other man. A large one. But fame and fortune kept getting in the way of something more.

“Nah,” Dustin assured him. “He woke up about an hour ago. He’s even showered and eaten. He’ll want to see you as much as I do.”

Eddie very much doubted that, but he was going to take it. “Great! This list is insane, man. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

“Come over for dinner,” Dustin suggested. “We’ll pour over the list over pizza and beer.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re old enough for beer now.”

“Yeah, yeah, old man,” Dustin said. Eddie could feel the eye roll from here.

****

Eddie was watching Steve in interest.

He was walking around like he was used to being in high heels or something, as he would catch himself on his toes and force his feet down on his heels.

He would jump at Dustin throwing open the door. He kept touching his face and rubbing at his throat.

Robin was constantly pushing tea into his hands to get them settle. When they weren’t cradling the tea mugs, they were all over the place. Not just his face. But his back and stomach, too. Rubbing his palms on the front of his jeans.

“Dude!” Dustin hissed. “What is wrong with you? Japan can’t have been that different from America.”

Steve winced from the sound. “Bud, you are seriously being too loud. I told you that I have a migraine.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Hey do you need me to go? Butthead here said you were fine.”

Steve looked up at Eddie and his expression softened. “I’m fine as long as you aren’t yelling like Dusty Buns, here.”

Eddie chuckled. “I hear that. So how was Japan? When me and the boys went a couple years ago it was so beautiful.”

Steve rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows. “I wish I could have seen more of it. It felt like we were running nonstop. At least we aren’t roadies. I don’t think I could do the work they do. They’re the true beating heart of the operation.”

Eddie nodded. “Our last tour we had twelve trucks of roadies and equipment. It was insane.”

Robin grabbed Steve’s cold tea mug and swapped it with a warm one. Steve murmured his thanks. “I’m still not sure if I’m on this time zone yet. And I worry that this fucking migraine may throw me off even further.”

“Is that why Robin is plying you with tea?” Eddie asked. “To keep you awake enough to go bed at the right time?”

Steve nodded, humming contently over the cup of tea. “Nothing caffeinated, not really. Peppermint for the most part, honey lemon, too. She thinks I might be coming down with travelers’ cough.”

Again Steve made an aborted movement toward his face.

“Stop doing that!” Dustin hissed again. “Why do you keep touching your face like that? Did the Tibetan monks curse you or something?”

Robin smacked the back of his head. “That’s China, doofus! And no, no one has been cursed. We had to wear face masks like the surgeons wear for a lot of the trip because there had been a flu outbreak.”

Eddie nodded. “Ooh, yeah. They recommended we wear them too in certain areas, it wouldn’t surprise me if I was that twitchy when we moved to the Australian leg of the tour.”

Dustin eyed Steve warily, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe him or not, but Eddie had backed him up, so Dustin decided to let it go.

For now.

“Where were you touring again?” Steve asked Eddie after taking a long sip from his mug. “South America, wasn’t it?”

“Right in one, big boy,” Eddie enthused. “It was our first time in some of those countries so it was super exciting meeting the people, learning the culture, eating the food. I swear by the end of the tour we had all gained at least ten pounds and that was with us sweating our asses off on stage almost every night.”

Steve winced. “I don’t know how you guys do it, the stage lights we had were merciless.”

“Years and years of practice, Stevie,” Eddie said, “years and years of practice.”

Dustin turned to Eddie. “All right I think I’ve been patient enough, I want to see the top twenty money makers of metal before I vibrate out of my skin.”

Steve laughed and smacked the back of his head. “You know who number one is, why do you care about the other nineteen?”

Eddie shook his head. “Not just metal bands, my weird little friend. But out of all the bands.”

He pulled out the magazine and Dustin snatched it out of his hands, careful not to rip it.

Dustin was furiously reading the list and it was clear that he was looking for someone specific.

“Eureka!” he cried. “I knew it! I knew they were outselling other new metal bands.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. “Yeah? Who’s that, bud?”

“The Fallen!” he cried. “They are so cool man. They have these on stage personas like Daft Punk and they kick ass on stage. I was so bummed when they didn’t come to Pasadena or anywhere near there when they were doing their US leg of their tour.”

Dustin was going to school at Caltech because as much as he wanted to go to MIT his mom was worried about him being by himself, so he moved out to California to move in with Steve.

He was on campus for housing most of the year, but he came home on the weekends and that put Claudia’s mind at rest.

Steve himself had moved out to California a couple of years before. Robin and him had gotten a job at record company and had to move out there to be closer to the headquarters.

Interestingly, or at least to Dustin, Steve’s friends all found jobs out here, too.

“I saw that one,” Eddie was saying. “But I’d never heard of them are they any good?”

Dustin scoffed. “Are they any good? Holy shit are they good.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “They’re a metal band, no offense to Eddie here, but there are only three metal bands on the whole list. Most of them are pop, rap, or country. How good can they be?”

Eddie scoffed and held his hands to his heart. “You wound me!” Then he flopped on the sofa, playing dead.

“That’s what does make them so good, Steve,” Dustin insisted. “Because there are only three metal bands on the list, it means they had to work their asses off twice as hard as the others.”

Eddie popped up. “Yeah, Stevie!” He stuck out his tongue and Steve laughed.

“You got any of the albums?” Steve asked, with a flippant wave of his hand. “If they’re so good, let’s hear them then.”

A shadow crossed over Robin’s face and she looked like she wanted to say something, but couldn’t.

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #corroded coffin #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #The Fallen

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wlntrsldler · 1 year ago

Note

If the boys played “never have I ever” in an interview, what would be revealed to the public?

I SPRINTED TO MY COMPUTER

here's the transcript of poisoned mercury's buzzfeed interview where they played never have i ever as part of their press tour to promote their new album:

interviewer: thank you guys for coming!

luke *smiling while he fixes his mic*: thanks for having us :) we were just talking about how we used to do buzzfeed quizzes when we were younger.

travis: there were many days where we'd be in luke's house back in connecticut and completely forget that we were supposed to be rehearsing because we got caught up trying to figure out which inside out emotion we were.

interviewer: well, i'm glad to hear it because today we're gonna play a game of 'never have i ever.'

chris: unrelated but i fucking love that show. team paxton for life.

luke: dude no. ben is clearly the right choice.

connor: ok mr. enemies to lovers, of course you'd say that.

luke: shut up???!

travis: i think if we took the inside out quiz again right now, i'd get disgust because that's how i feel being in a band with two idiots who are so in love with their girlfriends.

connor: swear to god if i hear another "no you hang up first," from either one of you *looks at chris and luke* i'm blowing my brains out.

interviewer looks around the room, trying to ask the producers what she should do. the video editors are already stressing because they know they have to bleep out a lot of the words the boys are using.

interviewer: .... so let's start with the first question. never have i ever gone skinny dipping.

chris: fuck, how did you get all of us on the first question?

connor: yeah we've gone skinny dipping a few times, but the most recent was last summer. mama c-- shoutout mama c, we love you!

luke: yeah, we love you mama!

connor: she put all of us on timeout and we spent the entire summer at a music camp and on our last night, we all went skinny dipping at the lake with our roommates.

luke: oh shit, i forgot about that. those were good times. *looks at chris* i miss camp bro.

chris: me too.

travis *stares deadpan into the camera*: do you see what we have to deal with?

interviewer: never have i ever had a crush on a friend's sibling.

travis: guilty.

chris *turns his head so fast*: given that you're related to connor and luke is an only child, you better be talking about a non-band friend.

travis *shrugging*: your older sister is hot, rodriguez.

chris: stay away from my sister.

luke *looks at the interviewer with wide eyes*: next question or you'll have a video to submit to worldstar.

interviewer: oh! uh, okay-- never have i ever accidentally posted something to my main account instead of my private or close friends one.

connor *cracking up*: castellan, wanna take this one?

luke *blushing*: this feels like a targeted question because we know the infamous video of me with the handsome squidward filter on (the hozier incident) that was supposed to go on my close friends story! i was so embarrassed. to be clear, i was JOKING. i don't actually flirt like that.

travis: i've seen you flirt with y/n, and you in the squidward video had more game than you normally do.

luke *teasing because he knows travis does not want a relationship*: and yet who's single between the two of us?

connor: oh he got you there.

travis: y/n, if you're watching this, you deserve better. he's a loser. i have better friends i can set you up with.

luke: five star, if you're watching this, you're stuck with me. there's no going back.

interviewer: never have i ever had a song written about me.

chris: this is a great pivot to promote our sophomore album's lead single, "kiss her you fool!" we wrote this song about our front man, luke, here. our second album "optimism don't come easy (unless it's with you)" is out now.

interviewer: i love that shameless self-promo.

connor: i think we as a band can benefit from having some shame, but thank you.

chris *turns to luke*: this will also come as a shock to you, but there's another song out in the world that's kinda about you.

luke: huh? which one?

travis: quinnie, remember her? she was in cabin 7. she wrote the bulk of it, but y/n actually gave her the idea. chris and connor helped her with instrumentals and the song is sick.

connor: it was amazing. quinnie is so talented. if you guys haven't heard her music, i highly, highly recommend it. the song we're talking about is called touch tank. you guys should check it out.

chris: agreed. she's also just a fucking cool person. she's one of our closest friends in the industry.

travis *making a heart with his hands*: we love you, quinnie!

interviewer: okay, final question since we're running out of time. never have i ever gone on a world tour for my band's second album.

luke *laughs*: i see what you did there. that was good.

connor: we are soooooo excited to announce that we're going back on tour! this summer, we'll be seeing all your beautiful faces again. tickets go on sale this friday! we hope to see you there!

luke: check out our band's twitter for more information on how to get tickets and to see if we'll be coming to a city near you.

chris: we miss seeing you guys!

travis: see you guys so soon! we love you!

interviewer: that's all the time we have for today. thank you guys so much. it was a pleasure!

#frances writes #poisoned mercury chats #lol this was fun #luke castellan x reader

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ayotofu · 1 month ago

Text

the monsters we fight are close to home

(chapter 1) (read on ao3)

Eddie really hadn’t expected to like Steve Harrington.

Even after the guy had shown up in that boatshed, with Dustin and Eddie’s neighbor and Buckley-the-band-girl, and after hearing the most insane story imaginable, he hadn’t thought that he would like Steve half as much as he did now. Had never imagined that he would spend his days curled on Steve’s couch, aching from still-healing wounds, laughing at Steve’s perfect impression of Henderson in a snit. Never dreamed that when he woke from nightmares of leathery wings slicing him to pieces and Chrissy screaming blood into his mouth, Steve would be the first person he called.

Henderson was disgustingly smug about it. “Told you so,” he said one day, when Eddie expressed his disbelief at the turns his life had taken since Spring Break. “I told you Steve was a good dude.”

Eddie shoved him off the couch for that, smirking at his undignified squawk. The ego on the kid, honestly.

All that is to say, Eddie nearly forgot why he hadn’t liked Steve in the first place. It was hard—nay, impossible—to reconcile the King Steve in his head with the Steve who had ripped a demobat apart with his bare hands, or with the Steve who held him when he quaked in the aftermath of a panic attack. The Steve he knows now and the Harrington he had derided in high school felt like two wholly separate people.

So he can’t really be blamed, then, for forgetting his friends wouldn’t see it that way.

And he tried! Really, he wanted them all to be friends together. If Gareth and Jeff and Nate would just give Steve a chance, they would see—well, they’d see what Eddie saw: a brave guy, a selfless friend, a bitchy babysitter, the hottest fucking monster slayer imaginable—

Okay, maybe not that last one. That one was maybe just Eddie.

Still, it wasn’t his fault that none of his old friends were willing to give Steve a shot. And yeah, maybe after the first fight they had about it, he wound up spending less and less time with them and more time with Steve, and Steve and Robin, and Steve and Dustin. But that wasn’t his fault either: Steve wasn’t the one who refused to hang out with the others, after all. He wasn’t going to cut down on his Steve time just because they were all hung up on high school.

Plus, there were the Gates.

Max surviving meant that the whole split-the-town-apart-and-unleash-a-horde-of-monsters plan only kind of worked. The cracks split, and there were still portals to the Upside Down, and doubtless Vecna had some other plan going on, but the actual apocalypse had been prevented.

So far, at least.

So they kept an eye on the Gates. Little Eleven (whom Eddie had been absolutely delighted to meet for the first time) was keeping up a good pace of closing as many as she could, but no one wanted to overwork her. And there were a whole lot of them. Every few weeks, Eddie would go out with Steve, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Joyce Byers, fucking Chief Hopper (who, instead of being dead, was apparently in Russia, because this was his life now), and Jonathan’s friend Argyle (who Eddie was kind of obsessed with) and back El up as she closed each Gate. Vecna loved to send his smaller monsters through the portals, trying to stop them. Eddie’d gotten bruised and scratched up more times than he cared to admit and it was starting to get on his nerves.

“Why can’t the government do this part?” he grumbled one day as he wrapped a bandage around Steve’s arm. One of the bats had managed to take a chunk out of it before Robin swatted it away with her bat. Eddie thought it was a reasonable enough question: if the government knew about all this stuff, if it was all their fault like the others claimed it was, then they should take some fucking responsibility for once and do the actual fighting.

Next to him, Joyce just laughed. “Oh, honey,” she said.

“The government tends to be more focused on coming after El than actually solving the problem,” Nancy said. “I learned a while ago not to rely on them for anything when this shit happens.”

“Could you imagine, though?” Steve said with a snicker. “The government actually doing their jobs?”

Robin cackled from where she was wiping down her bat, a perfect copy of Steve’s, nails and all. “A world where the first people to find the secret Russian base under the mall weren’t a couple of teenagers working minimum wage and two children?”

“The what under the mall?”

“Honestly, you’d think they’d’ve at least monitored Hawkins more, all things considered. They knew we were the first choice location for any Upside Down bullshit, but they didn’t notice the radio signal the Russians were regularly sending out? Dustin found it on accident!”

Eddie met Argyle’s gaze from across the clearing, hoping for some new guy solidarity, and found the man looked just as mellow as he usually did. Did he already know about this? Or (more likely) was he just too high to care? God, Eddie wished that was him right now. Russians? In Hawkins? Last summer, he'd been begging Dan to give Corroded Coffin a shot at a weekly gig at the Hideout and driving up to Indy to check out the queer scene. Nancy Wheeler had fought off her possessed boss in a hospital before shooting at a possessed Billy Hargrove trying to run her over.

Sometimes, it was hard not to feel a little inadequate with this group.

(“Do you hear yourself?” Steve said when he brought it up to him once. He reached over the couch and pulled up Eddie's shirt, revealing the pink scars from the bats. “You nearly died saving us. Saving everyone. And you think you're not as good as the rest of us?”

“No, I just mean—you've done this a bunch of times, and I still don't understand what's going on half the time.”

Steve shrugged. “Me neither.”

“That's not—” Eddie groaned and shook his head. “I'm not explaining this right.”

“No, I think I get it. But, Eds, you know you have nothing to prove, right? You're here. You're in it. You're part of the group. No one cares how much you were or weren't here for before.”

Eddie felt his cheeks warm, and he almost, almost, believed him.)

It had never been quite like this before, according to the rest of them. It was truly a miracle that they had all survived. Eddie had been in the hospital for two weeks, while Max had taken twice as long to merely wake up. She was still going to physical therapy, even now, and had been banned (along with the rest of the kids—bar El—who protested both the ban and being called kids) from the portal closing adventures. Hopper and Joyce had wanted to keep the rest of them out of it, too, but they were all legal adults at this point, and it quickly became apparent that they needed the bodies. Too many Gates for Joyce and Hopper to handle alone.

Still, it was rapidly becoming... normal. Routine. Fight monsters, close portals, hang out at Steve's for movie night and a joint or two. Make sure to schedule the skirmishes for days that he didn't have band practice or Hellfire. Make time for dinners with Wayne and the occasional Sunday afternoon watching football (which was way more entertaining now that Steve would come by and watch with them. Eddie didn't understand a word that they said, only had the vaguest idea what a running back was, and once asked why there was a position called a tackle if everyone was supposed to tackle, but seeing both Wayne and Steve laughing and getting along was worth it).

Really, he was happier than he should've been, considering the apocalypse of it all. Which was maybe why he was struggling so much with his old friends. He fit so well into this new life and he didn't quite know how to be the person he was before. He still loved metal, but sometimes he wanted to hear something gentler. He still loved his style, but sometimes he wanted to look soft, too. He still rejected conformity, but he had a broader view of nonconformity these days. It wasn't just about interests and rhetoric and style. It was action. It was community. It wasn't finding a different box than the one society wanted to put him in; it was rejecting boxes all together.

So he'd play metal, scream his heart out, and maybe he'd do it in Steve's baby blue sweater. He'd play DND on Thursday, and on Friday he'd go to a baseball game with Steve and Wayne. It wasn't that he wasn't the person he was before, it's that he was more, testing his feet in the waters, seeing what he might actually like of the stuff he always refused to touch.

Eddie “The Freak” Munson went to Hell, and he came out different. He was still figuring out who just Eddie was in Hell's wake.

Jeff and Gareth and Nate couldn't see it. They thought it was all Steve. That Eddie was changing for his ill-fated crush. Eddie didn't know how to explain it without getting into the monsters and evil hell dimension and the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat most nights but that Steve and Robin knew just how to soothe with words and touch and hot cocoa. And he couldn't tell them, even without the NDAs, because even if they believed him, even if he found the words, how could he bear to drag them into this mess, too?

All he could do was try to convince them that Steve was not the villain. It very quickly proved easier said than done.

—

Eddie managed to get his bandmates in the same room as Steve exactly once.

After the school disbanded Hellfire, Steve offered his living room up as a safe place for them to keep playing.

“It's not like my parents are ever home, anyway,” he said, like it was normal and acceptable that his parents didn't even come visit him while he was in the hospital with gaping wounds on his abdomen and not something that made Eddie want to bite people.

Still, he couldn't deny that it was convenient. The Harrington house was spacious, and it smelled way better than the drama room. Plus it came with Steve, which was always a fun bonus, even though Steve pointedly refused to play. At this point, Eddie thought it was more to spite Henderson than out of any real hatred toward the game, since Dustin was always the most insistent on getting him to play and the most offended when he turned them down. He'd been cooking up a secondary campaign in the back of his mind for a while now, for the older kids, if he could convince them. Something small. He wondered, if they all promised not to tell the rest of the kids, if Steve would agree.

But this time, at least, Steve was mostly there to hang out with Robin in the next room over, watching a movie, occasionally wandering into the living room to tease the kids and grin at Eddie in a way that totally didn't make his stomach flip.

Every time he did, though, Gareth, Jeff, and Nate would glare at him in the least subtle way imaginable, like he'd personally kicked their dogs or whatever. Eddie didn't get it. Sure, Steve had been kind of dickish in high school, but mostly just in the look-the-other-way sense. He'd stand there and watch, sure, maybe laugh a little at Hagan’s antics, but, if anything, he’d been the one to stop things before they went too far.

He understood holding a grudge, really, but why wouldn’t they even consider that they were wrong?

Why wasn’t his word enough for them?

The night was tense and awkward and, for the first time ever, Eddie rushed to end the session nearly an hour early. No one called him on it, and as Gareth, Jeff, and Nate left, the building let go of a breath it had been holding.

“That sucked,” Henderson said, blunt as ever. “What crawled up their asses?”

Mike rolled his eyes and pointed at where Steve was already moving to clean up the mess Eddie’s bandmates had left behind without a word of thanks. “I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and slapped Mike’s hand away before Steve could see it. “Don’t be rude, little Wheeler,” he said. “We’ll just—give them some time to come around.”

Steve looked over at them, a question in his eyes. Eddie waved him off. He shrugged, grabbed a few plates, and moved into the kitchen.

“How long are we gonna wait though?” Lucas said.

“Yeah, it took you like five near death experiences.”

Eddie smacked all three of them on the head to cover for the way his face was burning red. “Hush. Let’s go clean up after ourselves, shall we? We are not slovenly beasts.”

Dustin squawked. “Excuse me? I’ve seen your room. ‘Slovenly beast’ is exactly the phrase I’d use.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not my fucking house, is it?” He hissed, flaming even redder. “Clean up your mess, you little shits, or I’ll TPK you next session.”

That, at least, got them scrambling. Eddie wasn’t the most intimidating figure, but he didn’t make idle threats about DnD.

Eddie brought a precarious stack of cups and plates into the kitchen, depositing them on the counter first chance he got. Steve stood at the sink, running water over the plates he’d already gathered before placing them in the dishwasher.

“Special delivery,” he said, picking his stack back up and dropping it next to the sink. Steve didn’t look up but he hummed in acknowledgement.

“Thank you,” Eddie said, when Steve didn’t reply. “For hosting us, I mean.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, okay. Pretty sure I was the problem, actually.”

“You’re not a problem, Stevie.”

“Then why’d you stop an hour early, huh?” Steve said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“Because they were being dicks. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steve scrubbed at an already clean plate. “I did plenty of things wrong.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure. And so did I, with Sinclair.” Steve winced at the reminder. “And now they are doing a bunch of things wrong with you.”

“They don’t have to like me, dude. I promise I’m not gonna cry myself to sleep about it.”

“I know, I know. But they can dislike you without being assholes.” And really, they shouldn’t dislike Steve at all. Steve saved Eddie’s life. If that wasn’t enough for them to like Steve… “Maybe if I can just get them to sit down with you for lunch or something.”

Steve rolled his eyes and plopped another plate in the dishwasher. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

—

It was bad.

Eddie didn’t really mean for it to turn into a fight, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t his fault. All he did was suggest they get lunch with Steve. Sure, they’d rebuffed him every other time he’d suggested movies or brought Steve to the Hideout. And maybe he’d been talking about him a lot. And maybe he had a crush visible from space.

But they didn’t have to say all that. To say that he and Steve weren’t really friends, like they knew the situation better than he did. Like they knew Steve better than he did.

(He finally, finally understood why the kids were so annoyed when they’d had that first argument about Steve.)

“So that’s it?” he said, snapping his teeth. “Steve saves my fucking life, and you shitheads won’t even give him a chance?”

“He had his chance. In high school. People don’t change that much, and you know it.”

Eddie swallowed down the poison he wanted to spit (and, really, he deserved a medal for his restraint). “Fine. Whatever. But I'm not gonna stop hanging out with Steve just because you fucks won't get your heads out of your asses.”

“And we'll say I told you so for at least a year when this all blows up in your face.”

“Whatever. I'm going to get lunch with someone and you're all not invited. We can have Hellfire in Wheeler's basement, with his mom yelling at us every half hour. I'll stop inviting you to movie nights. That's what you fucking want, yeah?”

Gareth opened his mouth like he wanted to protest and Eddie let some of his swallowed poison slip into his eyes as he glared at his closest friend.

“Don't you dare say I should be hanging out with you more instead of Steve. Don't you fucking dare.”

Gareth’s mouth shut with a clack and he looked away.

“Look,” Jeff said, clearing his throat, “clearly we're not gonna agree on this. Can we just—move on?”

“Okay,” Gareth said, still looking away. Coward.

Nate shrugged like none of this mattered to him. Shithead.

“Whatever. I’ll see you assholes Thursday.”

And he stormed out. Very maturely.

Things entered a holding pattern after that. An awkward, shitty holding pattern. Eddie still hung out with Gareth, Jeff, and Nate, but less. A lot less. He didn’t really intend for it to be that way, but… Steve wasn’t the one being a little bitch.

“Do you want me to beat them up?” Robin said one day, when he was complaining about it from the floor in front of his sofa. “I may be small, but I’m crafty.”

(Robin had shown up at his trailer an hour ago looking like a drenched cat even though it was perfectly dry.

“Steve’s on shift” was all she said, before letting herself in and plopping down on his couch.)

Eddie groaned, thunking his head against the arm of the couch. “No. I mean, kinda? But it would only make things worse. So no.”

“Psychological torture then. Got it.”

“I’ve got fake blood leftover from last Halloween if you need it.”

Robin snorted. “Don’t mock me. I’ll do it.”

“Oh, I never doubted you.”

She rolled over so her head was hanging off the couch, upside down. “Seriously, though. They suck. It’s not like Steve hasn’t noticed. He says he doesn’t care, but I do.”

Eddie blew a strand of hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, I do too.”

—

He didn’t push it.

Maybe he should’ve. Maybe, if he’d said something sooner, if they’d hashed out all their problems before Halloween, this wouldn’t have happened.

But despite what Steve and Dustin and Wayne might say, at his core, Eddie is still a coward. It was easier to not rock the boat. If he brought up all the wounds festering between him and his oldest friends, they might decide that actually, they didn’t like the new Eddie at all anymore. They might leave.

He’d never been so afraid of them, before. He’d always trusted them with everything. But things were different since Spring Break. He was different.

But, as he stood in that parking lot, watching his friends (ex-friends) drive away, ready to head into danger they couldn’t possibly understand, he knew he’d fucked up. Now Gareth, Jeff, and Nate would be walking right up to a Gate, totally unprepared, and all Eddie knew about where it was was that it was an abandoned picnic pavilion somewhere in the woods. There wasn’t any Gate like that on the map Nancy and Hopper had been maintaining since the beginning of this whole saga, but it wasn’t exactly surprising that they had missed a few.

(Or, maybe, new ones were opening. A terrifying thought for another day.)

Eddie stood there for too long, heart hammering in his chest. “Shit!” He scrambled for his car. Everyone else was going to be at their Halloween get together thing at the Byers-Hopper house. They’d invited Eddie, but he turned them down to spend the time with… well. And now he had to ruin the whole thing because his dumbass friends (ex-friends) were gonna get themselves killed.

“Shit!” he yelled again, beating the steering wheel of his van a few times before peeling out of the lot towards the Byers-Hopper house. He might have hit a stop sign or two on his way.

He screeched to a stop outside the house. “Code Red!” He hopped out of the van, stumbling, and falling onto the ground. “Fucking—they’re fucking morons and we have a Code Fucking Red!”

Dustin was the first out of the building, followed closely by Hopper, Nancy, and Steve. “Code Red? What happened? Did someone die?”

“They’re fucking about to.” If not to the monsters, then to Eddie when he wrung their stupid necks. “Gareth, Jeff, and Nate found a Gate in the woods. They’re going to play a Halloween oneshot by it.”

Everyone else at the party had spilled out onto the driveway by this point, in time to hear the Code Red. Eddie couldn’t help but stare at Steve, who did not meet his eyes, face blank.

“Outside?” Mike said, nose scrunching. “With the bugs?”

Eddie blinked. “Uh, yeah. Bugs and, you know, monsters.”

Mike flushed.

“And you didn’t stop them?” Dustin said.

“I tried, dipshit. It… didn’t go well.” And Eddie was still looking at Steve in the corner of his eye, so he saw Steve wince, just a little bit. He wasn’t sure how much Dustin knew about the problems he’d been having with the other Hellfire boys, but he’d told Robin pretty much everything, which was the same thing as telling Steve. Chances were Steve could guess exactly what the problem had been.

Shit.

“El?” Hopper said. “Are you charged enough to close a Gate tonight?”

El nodded. “I can do it.”

“Right. Then we just have to go close it before anyone gets hurt.” Hopper turned to the older teens and Mrs. Byers. “Ready?”

“Man,” Argyle said. “I really wanted to chill out tonight.”

“Sorry, dude.” He didn’t know what else to say. “My friends are fucking morons, I guess.”

Mrs. Byers put her hand on Hopper’s shoulder. “Jim, if we go in guns blazing, there’s a good chance they see. There’s a chance they’ll get in this too.”

“I know. If I can, I’ll scare them away as the Chief first. But if we get there too late for that… better in it than dead.”

God, if they thought Eddie called the fucking cops on them they really would never forgive him. That was the best outcome here: they would hate him, but they would be alive and well and normal.

He’d take what he could get, at this point.

—

It took too damn long to find.

Even with all nine of them searching, it took too long. Eddie had, perhaps foolishly, hoped that they could make it to the Gate and close it before Gareth and the others got there. But, of course, they were already there and setting up the session by the time Nancy spotted the glow of the Gate.

“Stay back,” Hopper said out of the side of his mouth. “Let me handle this.” And he strode out into the clearing.

“Hey!” he said. “This area’s off-limits.”

And maybe Eddie took a little pleasure from watching his friends jump at the sight of Zombie Chief Hopper. A little schadenfreude. No one else had to know.

“Chief,” Gareth said, voice tight. “What brings you out here?”

Hopper ignored the question. “You need to leave. This area is unsafe.”

Gareth stared at the Chief for a moment, eyes narrowing, then he looked over to the tree Eddie was hiding behind. Their eyes met, and, even as he ducked back behind the trunk, Eddie knew he was fucked.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. You called the fucking cops on us?”

Eddie stepped out from behind the tree. Beyond the boys, he could see the portal, bright red in the ground. The night was crisp, the shadows long, the air heavy in a way that Eddie knew well. Something was coming through the portal soon. “Sorry, but—”

“Eddie’s not your concern right now. Get out of here before I have to arrest you.” Hopper felt it, too. He could see it in the tenseness of his stance. They needed to get the boys gone, and now.

“Oh, it’s Eddie now, is it?” Nate said, and Eddie kind of hated him right then. “You’re on a first name basis with the chief, huh Munson?”

“You can have your little catfight later. Away from here. Now come on.” Hopper strode forward and grabbed Jeff’s arm, hauling him up.

“Hey, let him go!” Gareth, tugging at Hopper.

Then several things happened in quick succession.

First, Gareth, unable to budge the Chief, stumbled back into Nate, bringing both of them to the mouth of the portal. Then, Hopper let go of Jeff, reaching out for the two boys teetering at the edge. Jeff moved after them as well, never one to leave his friends behind, even if he could run and save himself. And, finally, a vine snaked out of the portal, wrapped around Gareth’s ankle, and pulled both him and Nate into its depths.

Jeff screamed, or maybe Eddie, or maybe both of them, but the sound was drowned out by the screeching from the portal. Eddie ran into the clearing, spear in hand, and stabbed at one of the demobats that were fluttering out of the hole in the ground.

“Shit!” he said, flinging his spear around. “Shit shit shit!”

Beside him, Steve and Robin worked in tandem, beating back a demodog that was forcing its way out. Nancy and Hopper both shot into the oncoming swarm, trying to prevent them from spilling out into the woods. Joyce used her whole body as she swung her axe into a vine coming straight for Argyle, who held off a stray demobat with a shield.

“What the fuck is this?” Jeff said, scrambling back. “Where did they go? What are these things?”

“This,” Eddie said, “is the reason I didn’t want you here, dumbass!”

“Are they—dead?”

“No,” Steve said with way too much confidence. “We’ll get them out.”

Eddie realized what he was going to do a second before he did it, just as Robin said, “Steve, please don’t—”

And just as there was a break in the monsters, Steve jumped in the portal.

“Steve! Damn it!” Robin looked at Hopper and Nancy. “Stay here and hold the fort.”

Then she jumped after him.

“Oh, I fucking hate this,” Eddie said. He pointed to Jeff. “I’m so fucking pissed at you. Just in case I die, know that I’m gonna die pissed as hell.”

And he jumped in, too.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #corroded coffin

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moon-and2saturn · 1 year ago

Text

Just A Kiss

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x bisexual!reader, Jake Kiszka x female OC, reader x female OC

Word Count: 8.9k

Warnings: THIS STORY CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI!! swearing, flirting, unfaithfulness (kinda), possessiveness, jealousy, some arguing, mentions of drinking, LGBTQ topics SMUT: kissing, touching, dirty talk, sexually implicit language, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), unprotected sex, biting, slight dom/sub dynamic, dominance switching, threesome, slight breeding kink, hint of a praise kink

A/N: Well… I guess you can say that I was inspired by certain recent events. This is all a work of fiction, of course! I took inspiration and ran with it from there… The title is inspired by A Kiss by The Driver Era :) This fic is in collaboration with my good friend @dancingcarbon! We hope you enjoy it ;) *it’s only lightly edited ok so sorry for any typos*

————————————————————————

“Ten minutes ‘til we hit the stage– places in five!” you hear echo through the hallway beyond the dressing room door. You’re lounging comfortably on the sofa, legs hanging off the armrest as you scroll through your social media and wait for the show to start. When you hear the call for places, you flip your phone over and place it on your lap to look over at Jake, who’s finishing getting ready in the mirror across the room from you. You watch as he takes one last look in the mirror, then turns and strides toward you with a smug smile.

“How do I look?” he asks, smirking as he places his hands on either side of the couch and hovers over you, bending slightly to allow his face to be level with yours. You smile wide as you look up at him, brushing your hands softly on the expensive, beautiful material of his jacket. Your eyes meet his, tightly lined with eyeliner and half-lidded from the two glasses of whiskey he already had.

“You look sexy as always, my love…” you answer, leaning your lips upward to catch his, kissing him quickly before the two of you get up and walk toward the door. His arm snakes around your waist as he opens the door for you, smacking your ass playfully as you walk out the door in front of him. Entering the hallway, you see the other guys not too far ahead of you, heading toward the stage. You intended to watch the show from the wings tonight rather than sitting in seats, since you were here alone and figured you’d get the best view there.

This wasn’t your first rodeo. You and Jake have been dating since all the way back when they used to play in bars, and you’ve been by him every step of the way. You’ve been his biggest fan and supporter, coming to as many shows of each tour as the paid time off at your job would allow. Luckily for you, dating the lead guitarist of a famous rock band was a pretty good excuse to miss work.

Your job gives you a lot of leeway in terms of submitting assignments, since it’s more on the freelancer side of things, so you always have plenty of opportunities to join him and the band on tour. You’ve already been to plenty of shows on this leg of the tour, but Jake insisted on you coming along to all of them once again.

“Cone on, you’re my lucky charm, baby,” he said, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he pulled you into him. It was the day before they were meant to leave for the next branch of the tour, and he was desperately trying to get you to come along.

“Jake, I can’t this time. I have a huge project due next week, I can’t just go halfway across the country with you,” you said, groaning frustratedly as you tried to escape his hold on you, but failing miserably. His right hand came up to brush your hair behind your ear, stroking your cheek softly as he pled with you.

“You can do it remotely, I’m sure they’ll understand,” he said, using his pointer finger to lift your chin and look you in the eye. “I need you there.” As his eyes bore into yours intensely, you caved in.

“Fine…” you groaned as he captured you in a kiss, smiling against your lips.

“You won’t regret this,” he said.

As you approach the wings of the stage, Jake turns around one more time before walking up to the catwalk, cupping your cheeks to kiss your lips softly.

“This is all for you, my love,” he whispers against your lips. You smirk as your arms wrap around his waist, your hands squeezing his hips tightly.

“Considering how hot and bothered you get on that stage sometimes, I would hope it’s all for me…” you whisper against his ear. Your fingers ghost over the bare skin of his abdomen and a shiver runs through him as you feel his cock grow hard against you through his pants.

“Careful, sweetheart… How am I supposed to play a show when you start saying things like that,” he says, kissing down your jaw.

“I suppose you’ll just have to wait,” you say with a smug smile as a stage manager calls him over to him. He shoots you a quick wink, then walks over to the stage and slides his guitar on over his head. You watch as the overture starts to approach the end and he walks up the stairs to wait along the back catwalk for the curtain to drop.

You decide to move closer to the front of the wings, standing far enough back to not be seen by the crowd, but close enough to be able to see both the band and the fans in the pit below. You see all of their excited faces as they scream for the guys, the anticipation building slowly.

The curtain finally falls and the crowd loses their minds watching them open the show. You look out into the pit to watch their reactions one by one– people-watching is one of your favorite pastimes, especially when it comes to the fans and seeing their excitement. It’s something that always thrilled you from the start.

As your eyes pan to each fan on the barricade, they’re immediately halted on one individual in the center. God, she was beautiful. All of Greta Van Fleet’s fans are beautiful– it’s just a consistent factor when they make sure beautiful music— but this girl genuinely stopped you in your tracks.

Her long dirty blonde hair sat on her shoulder in a loose wave, with a few pieces pinned back in the front with barretts shaped like stars. Her makeup was gorgeous, with several small rhinestones sitting delicately underneath her eyes, lighting up her face even more. Her top was tight and had a deep neckline, which made it impossible for you to look away.

You’ve always known you were bisexual from a young age, this isn’t new. You’ve been with plenty of girls before, even before Jake came along. It’s something you were completely open about with Jake and it added for some spicy dynamics, whether it be talking about a girl you both found attractive, hitting on girls in front of him, or sometimes even engaging in a harmless make-out at a bar while locking eyes with him over her shoulder. Taking it a step further and bringing someone into the bedroom had been something both of you were interested in– you’ve discussed different boundaries and comfort levels but when it came to the reality of organizing one, you both agreed that it occurring organically felt better.

As your eyes continue to explore her, they land on her hands that sit atop the barricade and you notice the small sign that she’s holding. You can’t make out exactly what it says from this far away, but you’re certain that it has Jake’s name on it.

Of course– all of the sexiest girls are Jake fans. How could you blame them? He’s ungodly talented, sexy, confident, and more. At times it’s been hard to keep the slight twinge of jealousy at bay. As Jake struts down the upper catwalk toward the front of the stage, her eyes are glued to him. You can’t help but wish that she’d look at you that way, with lust, admiration, and desire.

As you continue to steal glances throughout the set, you notice that she’s starting to return your eye contact. To your surprise, this time she looked past Jake and directly at you, breaking eye contact to look down blushing to herself, before pushing her hair behind her ear, meeting your eyes once again with her bottom lip between her teeth. It felt good to get a little bit of what Jake gets each night, a harmless flirtatious from afar. Or from afar you thought.

As the show went on, you tried your best to keep your mind off of her. You chose to watch Jake instead, which certainly did the trick. Watching as he rutted his hips against his guitar always made your legs clench shut with want for him, and he knew it too. You knew he did it more often when he knew you were watching, making it feel like a dirty little secret between you two.

When Jake began thrusting against his guitar and throwing his head back as he began his solo for The Archer, instead of staying on him, your eyes shot to the girl in the crowd. You stifle a quiet moan from leaving your mouth as you see the expression on her face as she watches your boyfriend play. It’s lustful and full of need, sending shockwaves right to your core.

You look back at Jake and see his eyes are on you, which makes your desire so much deeper. You can’t decipher the look on his face, but it’s passionate and so hot. Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, he starts to approach the steps toward the floor. What the fuck is he doing?

You watch as he makes his way to the pit, his solo still raging on. He approaches the barricade, playing out a long, whiny note as his eyes find a girl in the crowd– your girl. You finally have a good view of the sign she’s holding: “I’m a Jake Girl”.

You almost can’t believe your eyes as Jake looks down at the sign with a smirk then looks back up at the girl, leaning up and kissing her on the cheek. Her face lights up, her cheeks turning pink as he smiles at her. As Jake returns to strutting down the barricade, you catch her glimpsing back up at you with a look that only spurred your lust. Not in a combative challenge, but as almost a nod to what you’ve managed to lock down. There was something about it that only spurred your nefarious thoughts.

You just stand there in the wings slackjacked as he walks toward his usual spot on the stage, finishing up his solo and waiting for Josh to come back out on stage. What the hell just happened? And why did you feel more turned on than jealous?

You manage to channel the multitude of emotions from Jake’s little stunt and enjoy the rest of the show. Jake avoided your attention entirely, exiting on the other side of the stage before the encore. Soon enough, the encore ends and the band says their goodbyes, exiting the stage. He finally walks off to the side of the stage, handing off his guitar to a tech while looking for you but you are nowhere to be found. You had told his tech to tell him you’d see him in his dressing room.

Over the years, you both have your moments of being the one in control during sex, but more often than not, he ends up being the dominant one. If this was any other night, you would know that you would pay for your attitude later tonight. This time, however, you have much different plans.

After a short detour, you stroll into his dressing room to find Jake unwinding, taking off his jacket and kicking off his boots. “There you are, where were you?” he asks, somewhat annoyed.

“Nowhere important, don’t worry about it” you respond nonchalantly as you proceed further into the room.

“Enjoy the show?” he cheekily asks.

“Not as much as you apparently” you return his tone with a look over your shoulder. A smug grin crosses his face as he runs his fingers over his mustache. You continue to the vanity, picking up a towel sitting there and throwing it towards him. He chooses to ignore your passive-aggressive comment for now and proceeds with his post-show routine, removing his stage makeup.

“The crowd went crazy tonight during my solo during Lover, Leaver,” he says proudly as he wipes the towel across his face. A sly smile crosses your face, still turned away, as the game and your strategy perfectly revealed itself, this was going to be fun, two can play this game but you’d be the winner.

“Oh, did they? I’m sorry babe, I must have missed that,” you answer coldly, focusing on your phone with your back still to him. In the mirror, you saw him stop and lower the towel from his face to reveal a confused look. You have him exactly where you want him. You look up from your phone and catch his eyes in the reflection, his puzzled look begging you to elaborate.

“I’m sure it was great, love,” you continue while finishing up on your phone, “I just wasn’t really paying attention to you.” You slip your phone into your pocket and turn around, leaning against the vanity with your hands placed on it behind you.

“My eyes were drawn elsewhere tonight… distracted, if you will, by someone else,” you continue, looking across at him to gauge his reaction. His confused look quickly turned into a sour one. You could see his mind churning, searching for what you meant or who you meant, recounting instances of his brothers’ antics to determine what could have pulled your eyes. You pressed off the vanity, slowly walking over towards him.

“Am I confusing you? I thought I might,” you say smugly. His brows furrow as you continue. “Sorry about that. I’m just still feeling a bit hot and bothered thinking about this girl who caught my eye during your show… God, she was just stunning…”

You saw it in his eyes that he’s connected the dots before they slightly roll back and he quickly bit his lip to contain himself. The game was afoot. You place your hands on his shoulders, continuing to back him up onto the couch. With him seated, you climb on top of him, leaning down to his ear.

“Seems like you thought so too,” you whisper as you place a light peck below his ear. You feel his vocal cords vibrate against your lips on his neck as he finally mutters out an answer.

“Did I turn you on baby?” he asks, his arms wrapping around your waist. How arrogant. You pulled your lips off his neck just enough to respond to his inquiry.

“She did,” you breathe out, hot against his ear, hearing a soft whimper tumble from his lips as you move to his other ear. “All you did was make me competitive, so now I unfortunately have to get a taste for myself.” You feel his dick harden in his pants below you as his hands tighten around your hips.

“Fuck,” he shuttered out, looking at you with darkened eyes.

“If you want to have your cake and eat it too, then so can I,” you say smartly, looking down at him, half-lidded with desire. His hands on your hips pushed you down into his lap, grinding his throbbing, hard cock against your clothed core.

“Y/N, don’t start something you can’t finish,” he spoke out in an attempt to gain back some control.

“You’re more than welcome to call my bluff,” you chuckled before your phone pinged with a notification. You pulled back from Jake and retrieved your phone from your back pocket, still straddling him as you read the notification.

“Ah, have to go,” you spoke as you stood up off of him with no further explanation.

“Where could you possibly be going?” he smugly spit out as he sat there confidently thinking that he was about to win this round of your little game, getting you as the reward. God, this was going to be good.

“To have my cake and eat her too,” you answer convincingly, holding up your phone to show a selfie of the girl from the show, sitting at the bar of your hotel. At that, you grab your bag and head for the door.

—

Jake had no less sprinted out after you the second you left his dressing room, clad only in his black pants. As he attempted to adjust himself to conceal his obvious erection, you dropped the game momentarily to discuss the prospect of a threesome finally becoming a reality.

You told Jake about how you grabbed a copy of the setlist, scribbled a message asking her to meet you both for a drink, and convinced a security guard to run it out to her. You had lingered for a moment to ensure she got it and immediately felt your phone buzz with a message.

“What did she say?” Jake quickly asked, pulling you back into the present moment and turning his head around to ensure no one was privy to the conversation.

“That she would love to buy me a drink,” you smirked out. His face sank a bit as you teased him, “Oh, and she said you were welcome too, of course.” The reality of the situation seemed to hit Jake as he once again nervously ran his hand over this mustache.

“Now hurry up, rinse off, and get changed, the Uber is 11 minutes away and I think we’d both prefer that you buy us those drinks,” you say casually, walking toward the exit. When he didn’t move, you started to wonder if you had pushed him too far. But the second you turn back around and open your mouth to speak, Jake’s lips crash against yours as he grips your face between his hands.

“I want this, don’t worry, I do. But fuck Y/N, seeing you like this and how much you want it… this side of you is so hot, I almost came in my pants just from you talking like that in my dressing room,” he admits, looking down at you with a smile. You laugh and felt the game pick up again as you swatted his ass.

“It’s just a drink, let’s just feel it out, okay?” you say, backing out of his grip to turn back toward the door. “Now, get a move on!”

The ride back to the hotel had been unremarkable, given the back of an Uber didn’t seem the best place to speak freely about a threesome. But words weren’t needed right now. You exchanged some knowing glances and squeezes and those non-verbal interactions did all the talking. You felt incredibly lucky to be with a man who let an essential part of you, your sexuality, exist freely.

He’d done that the entire time you’ve been together of course, but he never once fetishized your sexuality and that’s why it was important to you that you were the one to orchestrate this adventure. You were at a point in your relationship that never existed in priors where you felt nothing but excitement to share this with him. As you returned to the hotel, hand in hand, you exchanged one last look before entering the bar.

“We can stop at any time, okay? Whether that’s after a drink, a kiss, or whenever. There are zero expectations,” you assure him quietly. He quickly kisses your cheek and whispers, “I love you.”

You smile and squeeze his hand, “Shall we?” you ask. “After you, my love.”

As you turn to the darkly lit bar, you spot her tucked away in a back corner booth, the sultriness of the ambiance only spurring you on more. She notices you enter, her face lighting up as she waves to acknowledge you. You wave back with one hand, Jake’s in your other as you weave through the room toward the booth.

“I hope you don’t mind I started without you,” she says, nodding toward her nearly empty drink.

“Not at all,” you quickly smiled back, sliding into the booth next to her. “I know Jake would personally love to get you another, if you’d like,” you continue, breaking your eye contact with her to look at Jake as her own eyes follow.

“Would be my pleasure,” Jake replies with a shy smile. God, he looked even sexier under the dim candlelight. Her eyes darted back to you, almost nervously.

“I’m a tequila girl so I’m getting a tequila soda, what are you drinking?” you ask reassuringly. “I’d love a rum and coke,” she replies.

“Coming right up,” Jake says with a smile before retreating to the bar as you turn back to her.

“Hi,” you say cheerfully. “I guess we haven’t actually introduced ourselves… I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sadie,” she says with a smile. Almost out of instinct, you held out your hand to shake hers.

“It’s nice to–” Before you can finish, she ignores both your hand and response, leaning in to plant a light kiss on your cheek… and just like that, the fire inside you is reignited. At the same moment, Jake returned with your drinks.

“Ah, getting acquainted I see,” he says as he sets the drinks down before sliding in next to you.

“Just playing catch up,” you return with a wink, getting a chuckle out of them both. “Jake, this is Sadie,” you introduce. “Nice to meet you, Sadie,” Jake says with a smile.

All three of you chuckle, given the circumstances, then you continue to strike up the conversation to get to know each other better. The conversation flows comparable to the drinks in front of you, as if you were old friends but with so much to explore with each other. Jake eventually retreated for another round of drinks for the table. As Sadie puts down her empty glass, she leans onto the table toward you.

“I just have to say, you have the most stunning eyes,” she whispers, her eyes glossy as she looks at you with desire. She was close enough for you to smell the rum on her breath, turning you on even more.

“I could say the same about you,” you retort with your glass in hand, chewing on the straw. Sadie leans in and pushes a fallen piece of hair back behind your ear then replaces her hand with her lips, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your earlobe. A shiver shoots down your spine and you know that the spark has definitely been lit.

Jake returns silently, admiring the moment as he quietly slides himself back into the booth. You look back at him with a look of lust and admiration and he returns your prideful look with a slight nod as you turn back to face Sadie.

“Hey, if it’s something you might be interested in…” you began to blurt out, without any idea of what you were going to say next. Jake almost sensing it, jumping in to finish the question for you, taking the weight off of your shoulders.

“I sent our drinks up to our room, if you would like to join us upstairs for a nightcap,” he says, a hint of seductiveness coating his voice. “Or, we are also more than happy to just have one more down here and call it a night. It’s entirely your choice, of course.”

You looked back at Jake, he somehow managed to perfectly capture your thoughts and sentiments in the gentle manner you were seeking. Oh, how you loved this man. You both watch a slight blush populate Sadie’s face as she looks up at you.

“I am definitely interested in the nightcap option,” she says with a shy smile, placing her hand on your thigh with ardor in her eyes.

The late hour had afforded a quiet hallway to which you did your best to stifle your conversation and laughter, arriving at your hotel room door. Jake quickly flashes the keycard and holds the door for you both to enter. Your nightcap round has already arrived and was sitting on the coffee table where you all gathered around. Jake had opted for tequila on the rocks and given the time that had span, the rocks were no more.

“I am going to grab some ice, hang tight,” he announced before grabbing the ice bucket and exiting the room. You turned back to Sadie, whose eyes were already locked on you.

“I hope you know how badly I want you,” Sadie said, closing the space between you two on the couch. You felt your body start to warm from her proximity, growing wetter by the minute from her tits on full display as she leans forward toward you.

“I think I have an idea,” you respond playfully, reaching for the back of her neck. You pull her into you, your lips finally meeting after you’d been craving it all night. In one fluid motion, you lean her back against the couch and straddle her– the second time you’ve been in this position tonight. You return your lips to her mouth and continue, hearing the keycard unlock the door. You smirk to yourself, feeling ready for the games to begin. After a moment, you manage to pull your lips away and look over to see Jake standing at the end of the couch, his cock hardening at the sight.

“I’m sorry baby,” you say in your best sultry voice. “I couldn’t wait to get a taste of her, since you’ve already gotten one tonight.” You grab Sadie’s chin, turning her face towards Jake, and lick a long strip up her exposed neck, from her collarbone to ear, before taking her earlobe into your mouth, finishing with it between your teeth, locking eyes again with Jake in the process. “She tastes so sweet.”

Sadie whimpers softly as you feel her clench her thighs below you. You watch a soft yet pronounced “Fuck” fall from Jake's lips as he began to palm himself over his pants. The feeling of getting both Sadie and Jake off with your action alone has your head spinning and your heat dripping. You pull off of Sadie’s ear with a pop, leaning back up.

“Join us, baby,” you say in Jake’s direction. Jake hurriedly slams the ice bucket down on the coffee table before taking a seat next to Sadie.

“Can I take this off?” Sadie inquires with her hands on the bottom of your shirt as she sits up slightly.

“By all means,” you shoot back playfully. With your shirt off, you reposition yourself with one knee in between Sadie’s legs and one in between Jake’s, straddling their two thighs. You lean into Jake, meeting his mouth and licking into it while Sadie works to open the couple of buttons left on Jake’s shirt.

Your hand meets Jake’s on your cheek and you take his in yours, guiding it to curl around Sadie’s shoulder. They both blush shyly at first before you place a hand on the back of Sadie’s neck. Slowly, you lean back and guide their mouths together, nodding for them to kiss. Once their lips meet, you move towards Jake’s now exposed neck, planting sloppy, open-mouth kisses all over. You feel him moan into Sadie’s mouth and your core begins to drip, picturing how his brows were probably furrowing.

You take the opportunity with them both engaged to remove your bra as you sit on top of them. As if sensing it, they both come up for air and appraise your bare chest, sending an intoxicating high throughout your body. To your surprise, Sadie leans in first, going straight for your tit and taking it into your mouth. Fuck, her mouth feels good. As she swirls her tongue around your hardened nipple, Jake places sloppy kisses down your neck until he reaches your other nipple, mimicking Sadie and taking it into his mouth. The gasp that escapes your mouth startles even yourself, and their collective moans against your skin suggest that they were satisfied with your reaction.

“Holy fuck,” you shutter out as you mindlessly, in search of relief, grind against where their two thighs met below you. You can feel Sadie growing wet against your knee and your wandering hand finds Jake’s dick, hard and throbbing against his pants. He moans again slightly as you palm his length, releasing your nipple from his mouth as his hand comes up to your cheek.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re a goddess,” he whispers, loud enough for Sadie to hear, moaning against your nipple in agreement. You bite your lip and whimper slightly before breaking free of Jake’s grip and lifting Sadie’s head off your chest to connect with her mouth briefly.

“Jakey, those pants look so tight and constricting, why don’t you get more comfortable?” you say before taking Sadie back in your mouth. As Jake stands up to shed layers, you slowly undress Sadie to match your current topless state and return the favor to her chest.

“Oh god, Y/N, your mouth feels so good,” she sighs out. You looked up at her, taking in her blissed-out state and you can’t help but grind down on her. You both let out a breathy moan at the sensation and you hear Jake groan quietly behind you as he continues to palm himself over his briefs, watching you ride her.

You sit back up, one arm resting on the back of the couch while the other sits on Sadie’s knee as you continue to grind against her slowly, relieving you both. Her hands meet your hips and guide you, the friction being exactly what she needs. You catch Jake’s eyes, seemingly thankful to even be witnessing such erotica. You call him over and tilt your head all the way back to look directly up while he stands over you and leans down to meet your lips. Pulling away, you lock eyes with Sadie, exchanging a shared look.

“I think it’s time we give our Jakey boy here some attention, what do you think Sadie?” you schemed with a smirk.

“Only if you think he deserves it,” Sadie replies, running her hands over your body and taking your tit into her mouth once more. Her jumping in playfully only spurs your arousal and you watch Jake’s eyes practically roll to the back of his head as he stands over you both. You chuckle before standing up off Sadie and walking behind Jake, resting your hands on his shoulders softly.

“Do you want that Jake?” you tease, your breath ghosting against the shell of his ear. “Your cock must be practically dripping, do want us to give you some relief, baby?” You feel his entire body shutter against you as he licks his lips and nods his head furiously.

“Fuck, yeah baby…” he answers breathlessly. “Want your mouth on my cock so bad.” His admission only strokes your dominant front even more as you lick up his neck to his ear and reach around to palm him over his briefs.

“I was actually hoping I could see Sadie’s mouth on your cock…” you whisper against his ear. Unable to contain the guttural moan that escaped his chest, he leans his head back against you, your words and touch hardening his cock even more. “Is that okay, baby?” you ask, egging him on. You feel him nod against you and you look over at Sadie, giving her a wink as she rises off the couch to approach you both, dropping to her knees.

“I am going to slide these off,” you whisper into Jake’s ear, lowering his briefs and freeing his leaking cock, before Sadie pulls them down the rest of the way.

“Something to get you started,” you say teasingly as you run your hand through your own dripping core before reaching back around and pumping Jake’s throbbing cock with your arousal. Jake gasps at the contact as you both look down to watch your hand pump him, coating him with yourself. Looking down, you see Sadie bite her lip at your action, making you moan into Jake’s ear. You give Jake one last stroke before letting go.

“May I?” you hear Sadie squeak out innocently. You smile down at her as Jake stays silent, almost as if he’s deferring the decision to you.

“Jake, be polite and ask her nicely if she will please put your cock in her pretty mouth” you command, placing a soft kiss on his shoulder. You hear his breath catch before he looks down at her and breathily moans out, “Sadie, will you please put my cock in your pretty mouth?” Sadie smiles and nods before opening her mouth.

“Good boy,” you whisper against his skin as you lick at his ear from behind him, sliding your arms around his waist and placing them on his chest, holding him tight. You were in this together and wanted to be as close to him as possible. As Sadie takes Jake into her mouth, Jake lets out a deep groan and drops one of his arms back to grip your thigh, as if searching for something to sturdy him.

“You doing okay, baby?” you ask. As Jake starts to answer, your hand shoots up from his chest to his mouth to cover it. “I was asking Sadie,” you continue. “You okay, Sadie baby? You’re treating Jake’s cock so nicely.” Sadie simply hums her affirmative, not even bothering to take Jake’s cock out of her mouth and you feel Jake moan against your hand at the vibration. You withdraw from behind him and press against his side as he quickly pulls you in, squeezing your hips so hard, you’re sure they’d bruise.

“Sadie looks so sexy with your cock in her pretty mouth, doesn’t she Jakey?” Numb from the pleasure, Jake simply hums out the affirmative, just as Sadie did, only to be met with you twisting his nipple. “Nah-uh, baby, manners,” you scold him. “Say thank you to Sadie for treating your cock so nicely.” Jake winced in pleasure before managing to get out, “Thank you for sucking my cock so nicely Sadie.”

You turn your attention to look at Sadie now– god, she did look fucking incredible with Jake’s beautiful cock in her mouth. You can’t help but get turned on just by the sight of it. You lower yourself down to kneel beside her as you press kisses up her shoulder, clearing her hair away from her neck. “You are being so good to Jake, let me be good for you,” you whisper as you lick up her neck.

She sighs so softly as your hand rakes over her chest and slowly finds its way to her heat. You stop at the hem of her thong before continuing further down.

“Is this alright, baby?” you watch as she pulls off of Jake for air, using it to beg you to continue before taking Jake back in her mouth. You dip your hand into her heat as you smirk up at Jake. You immediately made contact with her swollen, sensitive bud as she yelps out against Jake’s dick from the relief.

“Fuuuuuck, baby, it feels so fucking good when you make her whine like that around my cock,” Jake groans, throwing his head back. You chuckle as you continue to work Sadie’s clit, running your fingers through her folds.

“God, you are so fucking wet” you mutter as she moans lightly at your touch. You slip your fingers into her, eliciting a strong and loud moan that makes Jake quiver. As you work your fingers into her, rubbing her clit with your thumb, you reached the spot that made her push off Jake, gasping for air.

“Oh fuck, Y/N, fuck– your fingers feel incredible,” she spits out.

“Yeah? Right there, baby? God you’ve been so good to Jake, let me thank you properly” you answer, quickening your pace inside her.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” you heard Jake mutter while he lazily strokes himself as he watches you make Sadie unravel at your touch.

“Yes, YES! Fuck, oh my god, right there Y/N, please don’t stop,” Sadie screams out so needily that you can feel yourself dripping. “Let go, Sadie, we’ve got you, let me have it.” you chirp, bringing your other hand to work her clit and allow your other to reach up even further to her special spot and pump at a brutal pace.

“OH, fuck, Y/N, I’m gon- I’m gon-” Sadie yelped. “Cum? Baby, here’s hoping, come on,” you encourage.

You notice Jake has now lowered himself to your ear whispering “I’m not even touching myself and fuck– I could fucking cum Y/N, goddamn.”

You smirk back as you feel her squeeze around your fingers, right on the edge, so you lean in, placing your mouth around her nipple, pushing her into orgasmic ecstasy with your mouth as she screams out and rides your hand through her high, feeling her drip down your hand. After a moment, you slowly withdraw your soaked hand.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, that was amazing,” she says breathlessly as she comes down. “You’re amazing.”

“She sure fucking is, isn’t she?” Jake chimes in from behind you.

You lean into Sadie and plant a long kiss on her lips. You exchange a smile before starting to rise when she grabs your hand, looking up at you from her knees.

“Now let me show you how good you made me feel,” she seductively breathes out. You can feel your core dripping as you bite your lip. Nodding, she pulls herself up with your help, backing you both towards the bed. When the backs of her legs reach the bed, she drops to the floor, on her knees and you give her a confused look.

“I want to taste and please you the same way I did Jake, on my knees for you,” she says, looking up at you through her eyelashes. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as you run your hand through her hair and nod. Fuck, she keeps getting sexier, so eager to please you and Jake. You feel Jake’s breath on your neck as he stands behind you. “Fuck baby,” he mutters “You sure know how to pick ‘em…” he says, smirking into your skin as he presses his lips to your shoulder.

Without a second thought, Sadie buries her face into you, knocking the air right out of you with the way her tongue pierces your dripping cunt. “Oh fuck, Sadie,” you shutter out and you can feel her hum against your clit. You reach for her head for stability, when Jake chimes in from behind.

“Hold onto me, baby, I’ve got you,” he whispers, moving both of your arms to hold the back of his neck, essentially hanging onto him. He snakes his hands over your body, finally reaching your chest, as he buries his face into your neck the same way Sadie is currently doing so in your heat. You let out the most stinging moan as Sadie’s fingers slide inside you while Jake plays with your nipples, running his mouth all over your neck.

“That’s it, baby, just relax and enjoy. Let us worship you,” Jake says against your skin as Sadie concurs with a long hum over your clit, her fingers working you perfectly. Your chest continues to heave as Sadie shakes her head side to side through your heat, Jake peering down to watch, his cock hard against your ass.

“Mmmm, doesn’t she taste amazing, Sadie? The sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted,” Jake rasps out. Sadie begins a nodding action, the feeling amazing, as her tongue laps at you in that motion and you can’t help but grind down onto Sadie’s face and she continues to work you with her fingers.

You are in a state of suspending euphoria you have never experienced before. The way Jake is leading you through it, pushing you further and further to the edge.

“Do you trust me?” you hear Jake say, ripping you out of your euphoric state. “What?” you ask, quickly turning your head to get a glimpse of him. “Of course,” you answer. Jake meets your lips and continues, “Go with me on this.” You nod, confused but willing.

He takes his left hand, wraps it around your front, pulling you back harshly, pressing you completely up against him, his cock painfully hard against your back. He peers over your shoulder, down at Sadie, snaking his right arm around your side before grabbing a handful of her hair.

“Sadie, I am going to try something, just stay still and if you want us to stop, double tap my leg.” She begins to nod but Jake pulls her off of you to get a verbal confirmation. “Got it,” she says, looking up at you, wiping her dripping chin with the back of her hand, eagerly returning her mouth to you as you shutter against her.

Jake tightens his grip around you and widens his stance, situating you two perfectly, almost fused together as one, with his cheek nuzzled up against yours. With a handful of Sadie’s hair, he begins to rock his hips. “Come on baby, rock with me,” he says. You begin to move with the rhythm of his hips, a loud drawn-out moan fills the heated air, your clit perfectly grinding against Sadie’s tongue.

“That’s it, love, let me grind you onto Sadie’s face.” His words alone send your mind reeling and you completely surrender to him. Your hands leave the back of his neck, falling to steady yourself on the bed behind Sadie, Jake following you to this new angle. He takes advantage of the increased mobility to press you hard against him, holding Sadie’s head steady for you, as he quickens his pace and begins to fuck you onto Sadie’s face faster. Jake’s own moans start to permeate the air as he humps his dick against your backside in search of desperate relief.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he spits out, licking at your ear. You can’t tell if it’s the actual pleasure or how fucking depraved this act is that has you chasing your high. Sadie continues her devastating pace with her tongue and fingers, only to reach around Jake and push you both hard into her mouth.

“Ah, fuck!” you yelp out and hear her moan against your clit. Jake’s own breathing is hot and heavy in your ear. “Fuck yes baby, that’s it.” He continues working you both into Sadie’s mouth as they get you close and starting to see stars.

“Oh fuck, you both feel so good” you breathe out.

“Is our pretty girl going to cum for us?” Jake says. “You going to finish all over Sadie’s pretty face?” Sadie pulls away for a moment, still working her fingers at a punishing pace. “Please Y/N, I want it, just like this” she spits out before returning her mouth to you.

You begin to white knuckle the sheets, “Fuck fuck fuck FUCK” you scream, “Cum for us baby, do it, do it Y/N,” Jake authoritatively breathes out.

With Sadie reaching deeper inside you, pointedly flicking at your clit, and Jake fucking you against her mouth with his dick hard and leaking against your back, you’re nearly catapulted into another dimension. Your body is almost weightless as Jake holds you and Sadie steadies you with her hands, now resting firmly on your hips. Your moans come out as screams as Sadie works your wet release out of you before you hear the sound of it hitting the marble tile below, the filthy sounds echoing throughout the room.

“Holy fucking shit, Y/N,” Jake breathes out as he peers further over you after feeling your orgasm on his bare feet. “That’s my good girl, that’s it, baby, fucking soak us.”

You are completely fucked out, Sadie’s lapping at your clit makes you spasm as the rest of your release gushes out and drips down her face. You stay hunched over, heaving, arms barely holding you up against the bed, as Sadie gently runs her hands up and down your thighs reassuringly and Jake peppers kisses on your back.

“Relax, Y/N. Just breathe baby, that’s it,” he speaks softly against your skin. After a moment, you catch your breath and find the strength to move one hand to Sadie’s face as she stays kneeling in front of you. You run your hand over her soaked face, letting out a breathy laugh that you two shared.

“Fuck Sadie, you are a marvel,” you breathe out.

“Y/N that has got to be one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen, you two are so fucking sexy,” she replies, placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh. You chuckle again at her words before reaching down to help her stand up before motioning to Jake.

“Come on baby, help me get her cleaned up,” you say, raising your eyebrow at him and he nods, getting the message loud and clear. You lead the charge, taking to one side of her face and Jake takes the other, cleaning your release right off of her face.

“Mmmmm” Jake hums. “You taste even better like this, if that’s even possible.” And just like that, you can feel your core dripping again. A devilish grin falls over your face.

“Speaking of taste, Sadie, I haven’t tasted you in the way I want to yet.” You watch Sadie’s eyes darken as you back her to the bed. You slowly lower you both onto the bed, as you crawl up to Sadie’s face, sucking kisses all over her neck, running your teeth over her collarbone as she melts into your touch. As you continue to trace your teeth over Sadie’s chest, you reflexively sink your teeth in and yelp out in response to feeling Jake’s warm mouth against your cunt.

“Sorry baby” you whisper up to Sadie before placing a gentle kiss on the bite. She smiles and takes your hair back behind your ear.

“Fuck, baby” you hear Jake moan against you. “I can still taste the fruits of Sadie’s labor and damn is it fucking sweet, mhmmm.” The sound of him slurping you only makes you drip more into his mouth before he pulls off and begins to stroke himself at the sight before him.

“I bet you taste just as sweet” you mumble over Sadie’s stomach, your mouth making its way down to her heat. You hear Sadie moan softly, placing kisses on her mound. “Sadie, baby…” you call out. She sits up on her elbows and looks at you.

“Do you think we should let Jake fuck me while I eat you out all nice and pretty?” You can almost hear Jake’s eyes roll back at your remark. Sadie flashes a devilish grin, looking back at him stroking himself behind your raised ass.

“He’s has been so good for us, hasn’t he?” she says smugly. The way she jumped right into your game without a word had you lustful once again. “But only if you think it’s okay,” she continued. You smiled back at her, before turning to Jake.

“Jakey, say thank you to Sadie for letting you fuck me.” Jake’s entire body shuttered as his hand quickened for a few more strokes along his dick before stopping. “Thank you, Sadie, for letting me fuck Y/N,” he moaned without a second thought, absolutely desperate to finally feel you around him. He crawled onto the bed, kneeling behind you as you resumed your work on Sadie’s waiting heat.

As your tongue found her clit, Jake seamlessly pushed right into you, still wet with your last orgasm. “And thank you, Sadie, for eating this pussy so good, Y/N feels so fucking incredible,” Jake stuttered out. Not missing a beat, he leans down to your ear, and whispers, “How’s your cake taste baby?” You groan against Sadie’s clit at Jake’s comment, your mind racing from the feeling of him inside you and her quivering underneath you.

“Fucking hell,” Sadie breathed out, throwing her head back at the sensation of the vibrations of your moan against her core. “You two are intoxicati- oh, fuck Y/N.” As Sadie moaned out, you felt Jake’s dick twitch inside you.

“Jesus Christ,'' he groaned, continuing to pound into you. Sadie lifted your head from her core as she watched your face contort with pleasure as Jake’s dick brushed your cervix. You breathe out a shaky moan, louder than you anticipated. Sadie’s hand snaked under your chin as she beckoned you up on top of her.

“God, I could cum just from watching your pretty face as he fucks you. Let me.” Fuck, if she didn’t know all the right things to say. You slowly moved up on Sadie, as Jake followed, and you laid on top of her. She licks at your neck while Jake continues to work you from behind, leaning down to lick up your spine.

“Fuck Jake, your cock feels so fucking good,” you whine out.

“Yeah baby?” he asks smugly and you nod feverishly. An idea sparked as Jake reminded you just how powerful his thrusts can be. You raised your fingers to Sadie’s mouth and she immediately sealed her mouth around them. With your coated fingers, you reached between you two and slid them into Sadie’s warmth. Her hands flew up to push against the headboard.

“Fuck, Y/N” she whined as her eyes rolled back.

“That’s it, baby, let Jakey fuck my fingers into you,” you mutter, looking down at her with deep lust in your eyes. Jake let out a loud groan as he watched you both. As Jake’s hips slammed into you, you moaned into Sadie’s mouth, your fingers pumping her with the same force and pace, only to find her moaning right back into yours, it made your pussy quiver.

“Jesus, fuck, Y/N, don’t do that, I can’t hold it if you do” Jake begs.

“So then don’t” you whimpered back through your own moans. You turned back to Sadie.

“Sadie” you sigh out. “I need you to —oh fuck— I need you to cum for me,” you paused to let out a loud groan as Jake’s dick perfectly brushed your cervix. The force mirrored in the way your fingers were working Sadie.

“Fuck fuck fuck” Sadie hollered out, “I’m close Y/N.” You curled your finger ever so slightly, “OH god, yeah.” She huffed out.

“God, you’re fucking that pussy so well Y/N… fuck that’s so sexy,” Jake groans, slamming his hips into you. You try to answer but Jake’s cock has left your head completely empty of any conceivable thoughts. You reach back your free hand to intertwine with his on your hip as you lock eyes with Jake.

“Make me cum baby, make us cum, pound into me, I can take it.” An animalistic growl bolstered out of Jake as his hips punished you, his balls violently slapping against you and your fingers sending Sadie over the edge.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” she sang out as she started to release on your hand. “That’s it, baby,” you whispered against her as you moved your hand to hang off the back of Jake’s neck right as he lifted one of his knees so his foot was flat on the bed, the added leverage delicious, your vision going white.

“Baby I’m there,” you cry out as tears threaten to leave the corners of your eyes, squeezing them shut.

“Oh fuck Y/N, Jesus, I’m going to cum–fuck, fuuuck,” Jake groaned, thrusting deep into you.

“Fuck me full, Jake. Please, I’m cum-“You didn’t even get the words out before you were collapsing into Sadie as your orgasm takes hold.

“God, baby, I can feel you squirting out around my cock. Holy shit, don’t stop,” and with that, Jake rocketed into his own orgasm as you gushed around him. The three of your moans coat the walls as you come down from your highs. You all collapsed in a dog pile taking a few minutes to catch your breath, before you all began to laugh.

You eventually manage to untangle from each other, falling back into the effortless banter you experienced with each other in the hotel bar hours ago. The late hour has your eyelids feeling heavy as you all fight off much-needed sleep.

“Wow, it’s later than I thought,” Sadie spoke out, turning on her side to look at you both.

“You’re welcome to stay if you like, the bed is big enough. Or Jake and I can take the pull out,” you suggest as Jake nods in confirmation.

“That’s very kind, but I better be getting home” Sadie answers. “Besides, my car will get towed if it’s still there when rush hour starts in– god, a few hours.” Sadie’s remark had you all notice the time and groan.

“I had a lot of fun,” she says with a genuine smile. She departed shortly after as you and Jake lay in bed curled up in each other.

“God Y/N, that was beyond my wildest dreams,” Jake says as you nuzzle into his chest.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, baby. You fulfilled my dreams too, you know,” you answer with a smile. A wicked smile grows across his face.

“You’re so hot, get over here,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a passionate kiss before turning off the lamp, allowing you both to drift off to sleep happily and dream about the unbelievable events that just transpired.

————————————————————————

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@highladyofasgard

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wontmindd · 1 year ago

Note

in having ✨ideas✨ again, and this one’s very fluffy

could we maybe have a sinner! adam oneshot where the reader plays a mandolin and decides one day to play this song in a very low key attempt to impress romance the guy? and maybe adam’s all like “yeah it’s alright I guess” but he’s totally transparent.

please, and thank you

SHOW AND TELL | sinner!Adam x sinner!Reader

word count. 1.7k

tags. Adam being in denial, Reader plays mandolin, fluff, sinner!Adam, gn!sinner!Reader

a/n. aaaa sorry for taking so long! hope you'll enjoy this because the prompt was so cute and funny 😭

This could be a chance.

You rotate the wooden instrument between your hands. A mandolin, your musical companion for so many years. You would have never thought that one day you'd be using it for trying to pick up someone. Especially not the First Man, Adam.

It's "Show and Tell" night at the Hazbin Hotel. The monthly occurrence you never understood, because no one really ever showed anything worth talking about. Angel Dust would put on some of his old porn videocassettes, Husk a cheap bottle of booze that he'll come up with a story for right on the spot, and let's not talk about the time Cherri Bomb showed one of her most recent, newly advanced creations that almost blew the whole Hotel up to pieces.

Also, the last couple of months, Show and Tell night has been graced with the addition of Adam. When he set foot in the Hotel it was clear that he still didn't really believe in Charlie's project. He just didn't have any other options. But, after some time, a hint of comfort was starting to show on the arrogant fallen angel. He became tamer, more sufferable to be around, almost pleasing sometimes. At first, you thought that you would have never had anything to share with Adam. But then conversations started to flow in the common rooms, and you two started to hang out outside the Hotel, even opening up to each other.

Adam wasn't that bad. Adam was funny to be around. Adam was easy to talk to. And Adam was pretty and...

Oh. Oh!

You crushed hard. Denial was the first stage, because c'mon, that's Adam, the former leader of the Extermination, a sadistic bastard. But he was also the one to greet you first when you came down for breakfast in the morning, who sat next to you at dinner to have some small talk, and the one who laughed more at your jokes. You learned to accept your feelings, but then a new problem presented itself. How exactly do you pull Adam?

He was more interesting than you thought that you could ever be. Not to inflate his ego, but he was the First Man to ever be created. He named the animals of Earth, he has been around for so long that he has seen it all. And he had two knock out ex-wives! How could you even compete? He played the guitar and was in a rock band in Heaven. But then, remembering that information, you glanced over at the wooden mandolin hung up to a hook on the right wall of your Hotel room. Maybe Adam didn't like you, but he for sure liked music. And mandolin wasn't exactly his type of instrument, but you still had music on your side. Yeah, this could be a chance.

——

You and the other guests take a seat each on the couches and chairs of the common room. Adam is sitting right in front of you, your eyes interlocked for a second before you both look away. Geez your cheeks feel hot. Then here comes Charlie, waltzing in the middle of the circle traced by the seats, smiling happily as she announces Show and Tell night. She suggests Angel to go first.

"I hope it's something a little...different from your usual presentations" she proposes.

Angel cocks an eyebrow upwards "No miss, this is exactly what you're all thinking of".

Husk groans, dragging a paw down his face as Angel puts on one of his porn movies he starred in. You look everywhere but the screen, and this includes Adam. He's not paying attention, playing with his VPhone behind his crossed legs so that Vaggie won't notice and threaten him with her angelic spear. As you throw him quick glances throughout the night, you realize that he quite literally didn't pay attention to anyone, not even a second. Concern starts to build up in you. What if he doesn't even look at you?

Adam only intervenes when it's his turn, positioning himself in the middle of the circle with a loud sigh. He then rummages in his robe, and takes out his designated object.

"A bra?!" Cherri Bomb asks.

"Yeah" a sly smirk spreads on Adam's face "this is the first bra a chick ever threw at me during a show. The first of many, many bras"

"How the fuck did you even bring it down here?" you question, more worried about that circumstance than the origin of the underwear article.

"You don't know my ways" Adam replies.

He keeps rambling some more minutes about how he broke Heaven's record for bras thrown on stage, with the smuggest, biggest shit-eating smirk known to man. After he's done, he plops down on the couch again, ready to not listen to anything the next guests have to show. And he does, either by taking a nap or playing on his phone.

"It's your turn, (Y/N)!" Charlie announces, clasping her hands together.

Shit. You reach for the case resting near your ankles. You open up the hard cover and take out your wooden mandolin.

"You play instruments?" Angel Dust asks, surprised.

"Yeah, I practice everyday" you say.

Of course no one knew, because Adam always has his rock music and amps blasted on max and he obliterates the hell out of any sound from your Hotel floor.

"I used to play mandolin when I was alive, it was my first instrument. I thought that I might as well bring it down here with me".

"C'mon, play something!" Charlie encourages you, a bright smile sparkling on her adoring face.

Here comes the difficult part. You gulp, feeling your guts squeezing from nervousness. Because Adam is staring. Since Charlie called your name, you noticed that Adam had put down his phone and he's now actually paying attention to you, unlike how he did with everyone else. This is sending you over the edge. Out of embarrassment and excitement at the same time. Damn butterflies in the stomach. You just hope to not mess this up.

You stroke the chords with your thumb to make sure they're correctly tuned. You shoot Adam a quick glance. Still staring at you, nonchanlanty, but he's watching. Just like you planned. You take a deep breath, you position your hands correctly and then you start playing the mandolin. The tune is relaxed, dreamy, mesmerising as you pluck the strings with ease. Your fingers almost flow with the sounds coming out of the instrument. You make sure not to mess anything up. Your technique is flawless, so there shouldn't be any worry. What's worrisome is trying not to look at Adam too much. You do give him a few glances to check for any reaction, but this could lead to missing pieces. You take a deep breath and go on strumming. Finally, despite Adam's wanted but feared attention, you manage to relax and let the sweet serenade curl around the room. As the delicate melody unfurls, you notice Adam shifting, placing his chin in his palm as he gives you his undivided attention. Then, you signal the end of the tune by finger picking a calm, lingering chord progression. The second you put the mandolin down, an excited clapping of hands makes you jump on the spot.

"Bravo! Bravo! That was amazing, (Y/N)!" Charlie erupts.

You chuckle "Thanks, Charlie"

Your gaze shifts from Charlie to Adam. He was still staring, but something's different. Is he blushing? Are his pupils dilated? Or maybe is just the result of your delusional imagination. Maybe not, because even someone else noticed Adam's change in attitude.

"Sooo, Adam, whatcha think?" Angel Dust cooes, a pointy smirk curling on his face.

Adam snaps out of his state, his eyes shooting up at Angel.

"Uh?" he goes, defiant but at the same time confused.

"You seemed to reaaaally enjoy it" Angel inquires.

Adam's eyebrows shoot upwards, his lips tight and reduced to a thin line. Oh he's blushing.

"I ehm-" he stutters.

"Right!" Charlie is quick to interrupt him "What did you think about it, Adam? Share it with us!"

Adam looks at you for a brief moment. You don't say anything, you're probably as embarrassed as him. He breaks eye contact, scoffing.

"Yeah I don't know, whatever" he mumbles, crossing his arms in an attempt to look unimpressed.

His own body is betraying him. His foot rythmically tapping on the floor, his heart racing, his scrunched, nervous face and his cheeks now turned into a hot mess.

"You sure? Seems like Cupid hit you in the right spot" Angel elbows Cherri Bomb, who giggles "Your face looks as hot as me"

Adam grits his teeth, clenching his fingers around his clothed arms.

"Yeah!" Cherri Bomb intervenes "you need a hand? A cup of water? Some air? (Y/N), you broke this guy!"

Adam jumps in his own seat, pointing a furious finger towards Cherri and Angel who are laughing their asses off.

"Cupid didn't hit shit! I said that I don't give a flying fuck about (Y/N) and how fucking good they look when they play mand-FUCK!"

"Ooooh" Angel and Cherri sing song in unison, a devilish grin.

"Aww, Adam! That's so sweet of you!" Charlie chirps, genuinely proud of him.

Adam lets out a frustrated, anger-boiling growl before hurriedly getting up from his seat. His newly sprout horns grow bigger, his tail quivers and his wings puff. He starts to hysterically point at everyone in the room.

"You know what? Fuck this shit! Fuck this stupid Show and Tell night, fuck this Hotel, and fuck you, and you, and you, and fuck everybody! Except (Y/N)- no wait shit!"

And then, Adam punches the air and just storms off, leaving Angel and Cherri Bomb laughing behind him.

"Oh my God..." you whisper, incredulous as you rub your shoulders up and down with your hands.

Angel gets up and plops down on the couch next to you, leaning towards you with a smug grin.

"I dunno why would you hit that, but good job" he says, offering your a fist bump.

You let out a small chuckle before pounding Angel's fist.

Nailed it.

#hazbin hotel #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel adam #adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #vivziepop #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x you #adam hazbin #hazbin adam #adam fanfiction

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joocomics · 1 year ago

Text

REMEMBER YOUR FIRST

⌞ PART TWO ⌝ || ⌞ SPIN-OFF ⌝

pairing: non-idol!hyeongjun x virgin!fem!reader

genre: smut, slice of life ( 18+ ) ── 8.2k words

music is what started your friendship with your college classmate han hyeongjun, but your virginity is what made it really blossom

cw ! corruption kink, manipulation (light but still be aware), degradation, virgin kink, dacryphilia, dumbification

✎… college au, hard!dom!junhan, protected sex, dirty talk, pet names (including kitten), phone sex, spit kink, face slapping (f!rec), exhibitionism kink, choking (f!rec), oral sex (m/f), rough face fucking, gagging, sensation play (f!rec), spanking, hint of pet play?, masturbation, name calling (slut/whore), cum eating, alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes

( xdh masterlist )

“This doesn’t make a good first time story.”

Your brows furrow together as you try to really make sense of Hyeongjun’s words who takes a sip of his ice tea before slouching into his chair.

The cafeteria is packed, and you occasionally glance around - partly to make sure your friend spots your table when she arrives, but also in case someone you know walks by, and you have to drastically change the conversation.

You don’t want anyone you’re familiar with to catch you discussing your virginity.

“Why not? It’s special.”

“Dinner in a fancy restaurant, flowers…” Hyeongjun lifts another finger in the air, repeating what you said earlier about your long awaited first time.

The special romantic sex you’ve been dreaming about since you turned eighteen.

“Then he takes you to his dorm room where he has candles and shit, yeah none of that is going to happen, Y/N.”

Your badly covered disappointment makes him grin even more widely. The corners of his eyes wrinkle appealingly as he continues to stare at you.

“No one does that anymore.”

“I will meet someone who thinks exactly the opposite.” You lean forward with a determined look on your face. “Sweet romantic guys like that still exist, believe it or not. You’re just not hanging out with crowds where you would meet them.”

You grab the little plushie hanging from Hyeongjun’s keychain to keep your hands busy. Most of the time, you don’t mind the fact you’re approaching the middle of your second college year still a virgin, but this week it seems like you do.

Hyeongjun huffs at your comment, glancing down at your pouty lips. He’s used to your silly ways of seeing relationships like a rom-com movie.

Despite your obvious differences, you and Hyeongjun became friendly the first week of your first year - right here in this very cafeteria. He noticed you listening to one of his favorite bands, and when he approached you to ask for your name, you were surprised to find out he’s in a band himself.

From there, you easily hit it off, and the rest was history. Still, you've never actually hung out beyond your shared college lectures, but it doesn't really bother you. Most of the time, at least...

You’ve considered asking him out for a drink, a friendly drink, but there was always something holding you back from sending the message. There’s also the problem with his bandmates and friend group overall. As the type of people that your mother would mark as a bad example, you don't have anything in common with them.

“Even if you do meet the one…” Hyeongjun speaks out the one with a mocking tone that makes your eyes roll, “you’re still gonna have a boring first fuck.”

He rests elbows on the table; the metal zippers of his black leather jacket create a harsh noise against the wooden surface only you can hear. There's a look of contemplation on his face as he watches you laugh silently.

“You’re not just some ordinary girl like the rest,” he continues with a lower voice, “I know this is not what you really want.”

You shift your attention to his lips - the way his gaze is piercing through your eyes makes you nervous in a way you’ve never felt around him.

“What else could I want…” You ask more yourself than him.

“So much more… Don’t you want the experience to be fun?” He tilts his head curiously, causing the silver earring on his right ear to dangle around. “Thrilling? Something worth to reminisce on.”

“For example?”

“Nah,” he moves back with a sigh. “I don’t want to put ideas in your head. Think about it on your own.”

The thought of spending even more time than you already do sobbing over this makes you shake your head.

“No, thanks, I’m over it,” you mumble right before noticing your friend approaching your table. You wave back at her as you finish your thought: “I’m not just gonna sit and think about this like it’s some kind of homework.”

“Then touch yourself and your mind will do it on its own.”

A moment passes in silence.

Your friend says hi to both of you, throwing her bag on the free chair, but she has to greet you one more time, because you don't acknowledge her presence right away.

Hyeongjun swings his backpack over his shoulder, then picks up his keys and cellphone from the table.

As you watch him preparing to leave, you realise, that in some new and unusual kind of way, your time spent together doesn’t feel enough. Because you don’t share classes for the rest of the week you’re going to see each other next Tuesday, and for the first time, that has never looked so farther away to you.

“See you next week, Y/N.”

Hyeongjun’s words are following you everywhere.

Multiple times a day, you find yourself wondering if he is right. You could have more fun, more experiences; you’ve always known that, buried somewhere in the back of your mind. But first... you have to step outside your comfort zone.

While the conversation from the cafeteria is replaying in your head, - once again, - your hand slips inside your sweatpants, rubbing gently against your panties. Your lips part to let out a sigh of bliss as your fingers spot your clit and apply light pressure.

It takes you a minute or two to realise that the image of Hyeongjun is still lingering in your mind.

After you slide the first finger through your slickness, gasping at the amount of wetness you produced, you actually comprehend that you’re masturbating at the thought of him.

You try to block the image away, but the warm feeling coming from your core is too good to do anything else besides keeping your hand moving.

Turning over on your stomach, you suppress your moans and hitched breaths into the pillow. You’re so overwhelmed with the growing rush that you cannot control your hand on just one single motion. Wanting so desperately to get to the end of this sensation, you end up simultaneously rubbing, humping your palm and fingering your pool of arousal; fantasising that your fingers are someone else’s.

Your body begins to shake as you rub as fast as you can till you can’t handle it anymore. You’ve began to do this more frequently than you used to, more than you’d like to admit, but you can’t resist it. However, the obvious thing you can’t ignore is that you’ve never been this wet before as you are this morning.

You’ve never felt so high while doing this to yourself before, and you’ve never done it with Hyeongjun stuck in your mind.

Your phone starts ringing under the sheets and you lift up from the pillows startled. Once you find the device your heartbeat quickens even more at the look of the name displayed on the screen.

Even though you exchanged numbers last year you’ve barely spoken on the phone. You always text each other unless it’s about something important having to do with an assignment that’s easier explained by speaking.

You don't have other reasons to call each other.

As your thumb hovers over the green button, the wetness under your panties becomes more and more obvious, but you try your best to ignore it despite the cotton fabric practically sticking to it like a second layer of skin.

“Hey,” you greet him after clearing your throat, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible.

“I was just about to hang up,” says the familiar voice on the other line. “Hey... did I wake you up?”

“No, no! I’m just… chilling before it’s time to head to class.” Your thighs press against each other harder with each word you say. “What are you up to?”

“I’m with the guys, we’re practicing.”

You do make out a few male voices coming from the distance. You try focusing on them, on Hyeongjun... not on your heartbeat that still hasn’t recovered from your intense orgasm.

“Didn’t you mention once that you have classes till four?”

“I did.” A short sound from one of the strings of his guitar sneaks through the speaker, then disappears just as quickly. “I skipped.”

“Oh...” Your teeth grab onto your lower lip. “What are you practicing for?”

“Actually, that’s why I’m calling. We have a small gig on Saturday and I was wondering if you'd want to come watch me... If you’re interested.”

“Oh, I’d like that.” You lean back against the wall, hearing Hyeongjun's perky smile as he mumbles his answer.

“Sweet, I’ll text you the details then.”

You thank him for the invite, and just when you’re about to hang up, he speaks again.

“Y/N, did you…” There's a sudden note of suspicion ringing in his voice. “Wait.”

You hear shuffling noises followed by a door closing.

“Were you just touching yourself?”

“Uhm…” Your throat dries in seconds from panic. “What, why are you asking me that?”

“You sound like you came really hard... and it took you some time to pick up the phone.”

The way he said that so comfortably and bluntly brings a fog to your brain; which makes it even more of a challenge to make up a smart lie on the spot, so you decide to be honest. It’s not like you’re going to talk about sexual things with him for the first time.

“Okay, yeah I did. Wasn’t that what you recommended me to do?” You ask jokingly, but his voice remains calm in contrast to yours.

“Good girl.”

The praise causes a halt in your heart.

“What did you think about?” He’s eager to know.

“Uhm, nothing really.”

“Tsk, that can’t be true.”

There’s no way you can be that honest with him right now.

“Mostly about myself… what I was doing. I don’t really know what I want yet if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Have you done oral with someone?”

“I’ve told you I haven’t done anything except kissing and two handjobs, Hyeongjun… Nothing has changed.” You sigh from frustration, sensing the feeling of shame coming back to warm your cheeks.

You begin to get suspicious of the sudden silence that lasts a few seconds before you hear of him again.

“I’m just thinking how nice it would be to lick you up right now.” The sentence rolls off his tongue before he makes a temporary pause in which you pin point some muffled noise; then a zipper. “You must be really fucking wet…”

His voice sounds more low pitched now; with a washed out tone that spreads the warmth from your face everywhere on your body.

“Virgin girls start dripping from the smallest things. Are you sensitive, Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You focus on the other line in attempt to figure out if he’s doing something other than just talking. “I’m... very sensitive.”

You’re now one hundred percent sure he’s jerking himself off as you speak.

The moment you hear his first groan your hand slips back into your panties, much faster since you got rid of your sweats earlier. You still have arousal lingering between your folds that you bring up to spread over your sensitive clit.

“Did you made yourself cum?” He asks.

“I did, pretty quickly.”

“Tell me how.”

You shut your eyes in contemplation, your hand moving slowly in circles.

“I fucked myself with my fingers…” It seems like the fact you can’t see each other boosts your confidence, and the words start coming out on their own. “First with my legs spread wide, then with my ass up in the air.”

“Fuck—“ Hyeongjun’s heavy breathing follows with a light chuckle that comes out too erotic in this situation. He sounds pleasantly surprised from how forward you are with your answers. “You’ll be so fuckin’ tight… tightest pussy ever.”

His coarse words end in a moan that forces you to speed up your own pleasure too.

“I thought of you the whole time…” You admit in a whisper, holding your phone tightly, “that you were here watching me.”

You hear him only cuss quietly as a response. It's clear he's trying hard to contain himself in order not to get caught.

“Ah, you won’t be able to stop clenching… but you’ll take it well cause you’ll be dripping for that fuckin’ cock… You want to get your pussy ruined after all… Right, dirty girl?”

Your imagination runs wild, trying to picture him with his fist around his cock; his slim fingers painted in black nail polish dancing up and down, squeezing till he spills all over himself.

“I-I do…” Your body slips downwards as you begin to pump your fingers - aiming for another climax. “Yeah, I do!”

“Holy shit—” He spits out and then the sound of his furious fist, slamming against his skin, is the only thing left you can hear.

A powerful moan gets stuck in his throat; repressed. He doesn’t have the chance to let it out, unlike you.

On Friday afternoon, during your last lecture of the week, you receive a message from Hyeongjun.

Your heart starts pounding at the thought of it having something to do with what happened the other day on the phone - but it doesn’t.

the bar will be crowded and really hot

don’t get overdressed

leave your panties at home if you want

“You came.”

You turn to see Hyeongjun with a bottle of beer in hand. He’s still out of breath from his performance, and somehow, looks just as captivating as he did on the stage, or even more. You notice that his forehead, exposed from his bangs, is glistening with sweat as he settles down on the lounge to take the empty seat next to you.

“Of course, how could I miss it?” You cross your legs, fixing your skirt as you turn to face him better. “You did great. All of you did amazing.”

Hyeongjun’s gaze crawls up your bare legs - from your exposed ankles to the middle of your thighs where your small skirt ends. You listened to him; you did come with as less clothing on your body as possible. Your top, that shows some skin around your bellybutton every time you move, with those thin, almost nonexistent straps, does not leave much to the imagination either.

“Last time we were here we sucked.” He leans back, relaxing his body. “Maybe you’ll turn out to be my lucky charm.” The corners of his lips lift up for a moment before he drinks.

The seductive note of his voice provokes the memories from your phone call to invade your mind; you begin to wonder if he’s going to bring it up tonight. You want him to, but at the same time... you know you’re not ready to talk about it just yet, at least not here.

A few people pass by to chat with Hyeongjun - some you’ve seen around college, others you meet for the first time. They let him know that they loved his band and ask him all kinds of questions about it before leaving.

His band members, all three of them, come along too, crashing on the other side of the lounge. They exchange a few words, but not for long, Hyeongjun quickly shifts his focus back to you.

“You look pretty tonight.”

Your eyebrows raise subtly as you’re caught off guard from the unexpected compliment.

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a sip from your glass of white wine that's now warming in your hand. You've been drinking faster ever since Hyeongjun sat down beside you.

There's a young woman on the stage, singing impressively. You cannot look away, but soon enough, he leans towards your ear.

“Can you see well?”

Despite your assurance that the view from your seat is great, Hyeongjun still pulls you with his hands, inviting you onto his lap.

“Isn’t this better?” His thumb brushes against the zip of your skirt as his hands glide down your waist.

You watch the way his palms caress the naked skin of your thighs; the way they slide on the inner surface so his black nails can scratch it gently. His emphasised veins immediately hold your attention. The hint of roughness his cold fingertips have get your lower tummy excited.

However, as much as his touch electrifies you at this moment, the one thing that makes you swallow your tongue is the feel of your ass resting against his crotch.

You freeze, avoiding any kind of possible movement.

“Hey,” Hyeongjun slurs against the crook of your neck, pushing your hair to one side, “loosen up, it’s just me.”

“I know.”

Hyeongjun takes a shameless whiff of your perfume; he takes the sweetness of it all in, letting it arouse his senses.

Noticing his bottle is empty, he reaches towards the table to pick up another. This forces his chest to press against your back, letting his body heat to sink into your spine through the thin fabric of his graphic tee; allowing you to feel every muscle of his chest.

He swiftly opens the beer with the help of the lighter he uses for his cigarettes, keeping his arms around your waist. He guides the neck of the glass bottle to your glossy lips and the strong smell hits you.

“Wanna sip?”

“Sure,” you mumble.

You've never tried beer before, so you're eager to give it a shot, only to quickly find out it's not your thing.

Hyeongjun watches intently at your lips wrapped around the bottle, but it's the sudden shift in your expression once the taste hits that makes him chuckle.

“I don’t like it.” You wipe off the small droplet of alcohol from the corner of your mouth, handing the bottle back to him.

He drinks after you right away; just to gather all the spit and lipstick you left on the glass.

A moment later, as the vibrant song continues, you notice the bottle going down in your lap. If you did have an idea of what Hyeongjun might be up to, you would’ve reacted differently, but you don't, so you jolt as though something bit you, grabbing on his wrist.

“Hyeongjun!”

You look around, scanning every corner of the place. Fortunately, everyone’s attention is focused somewhere else, and the crowd is swaying around.

“So you did follow all my orders.”

Orders. Not advice, or suggestions.

Orders. The word comes with a certain weight that presses the back of your tongue, leaving you speechless.

The cold bottle is now settled between your spread thighs, and presses harder against your naked cunt. Your tummy begins to clench from all the different sensations coming together.

“Mmhp…” You use the sound of desperation as some sort of an answer.

The wetness dripping from the glass begins to glide down your pussy folds, creating a nice ticklish feel on your skin.

“Move.” Hyeongjun trails his lips against your ear while caging you in place with his left arm. “Come on, horny girl, it will feel so good. It already does, see?” The hard cold surface moves under your skirt to rub your clit satisfyingly.

You roll your hips once, grinding against the thick length of the beer bottle. Then twice... Eventually, you begin to ride it delicately - the beer bottle and Hyeongjun’s boner.

The coldness spreads all over your intimate flesh, kissing your clit, and soon enough you form the urge to moan. The sound keeps building up in your throat as you continue with the motions, encouraged by the warm knot pulsing in your core; by Hyeongjun’s voice over your shoulder that turns you just as woozy as well.

“That’s it, sweetheart… Told you it will feel nice.” He places his first kiss on your neck, wet and slow, allowing you to get familiar with his tongue. “Keep going.”

You do your best at moving, not too fast, not too obviously, but it’s getting harder. You wish you could just do it quick and let the rush take over.

“Hyeongjun, no more...” You mumble through your panting.

“We’re not leaving till you cum on that bottle.”

He doesn’t seem to hesitate to command you at all.

His hot breath fans your skin just below your earlobe, but the excitement cannot compare to the one you feel every time he tells you what to do. It can barely compare to the thrill of doing this in public around so many people. The exciting energy doubles every time you hear the roughness in his demanding voice; every time you feel his lips on the back of your neck, curling lazily in a provocative smirk.

“Don’t pretend to be that innocent…” He nibbles the space between your shoulder and neck, causing you goosebumps. “Not in front of me.”

Your one hand holds on the table in front of you for support while the other remains on top of Hyeongjun’s grip on your thigh.

“What if someone sees me?”

“I’m pretty sure you’d enjoy that.”

The live music and loud cheers swallow your blissful sounds during the last moments of your breaking point.

You ride out the ecstatic rush, slow and steady, which seems to make it even more intense as your body quivers vividly. The squirms give Hyeongjun’s erection such irresistible friction that he helps himself out by biting your skin to bare it more easily.

Since he wants a better view of your face, Hyeongjun signals you to turn sideways. The fingers of his one hand are half-hidden beneath the hem of your skirt as his other lifts the glass bottle in front of your eyes.

“This is a great brand,” he points out before glancing back at you.

You can read the challenge in the spark of his gaze and you know what you need to do.

You stick out your tongue and lick up where all your essence lies. Without opening your eyes, you glide all the way to the bottle’s edge, twirling the tip of your tongue around.

Hyeongjun smiles at the little ways you uncover your dirty nature to him; he cannot wait to see all of it.

“That's a pretty tongue,” his thumb and index finger catch your chin. “Show me again.” He says with a voice so low it sounds like he’s entranced by you.

Those same fingers crawl inside your mouth, feeling the warm moisture of your pink tongue. They go deeper; as further as they can till his knuckles push uncomfortably against your chin and you gag. He glides them back, not expecting you to close your lips around them.

The sight of you sucking on them, not wanting to let go of them just yet while maintaining eye contact, doubles the pressure in his lower region.

“I always had a feeling you’ll turn out to be a secret slut.” His fingers pull out slowly and bring your bottom lip downward while doing so, exposing a row of teeth. “Who did you see?” He catches you staring in a different direction.

“It’s the guy I—“

“Seungmin?” He cuts you off with an intrigued tone that you can’t tell if it sounds more fake than real. “Didn’t you have a crush on him at one point?”

“Yeah, I did, I’m far from his type though.”

“What does that mean? That he doesn’t have an eye for sweet pretty girls like you? That’s bullshit.” Hyeongjun shifts his focus on Seungmin that’s leaning over one of the tables few feet away from you. “Why don’t you go talk to him?”

“Right now?”

“Now.” He says. “Maybe he can be your first,” he turns to look back at you again, but with a sharper expression.

“Are you saying I should flirt with Seungmin?”

“Not necessarily,” he pauses before adding: “It’s enough for you to just smile and look pretty in your little skirt. Go.” He smacks your thigh.

It’s like he can see right through you, that you prefer to be with him than anyone else right now, that’s why he’s smiling. But you can’t say no - not to Hyeongjun.

You don’t want to.

“Hey,” you greet Seungmin when you go up to him.

He’s standing still behind a messy table with a drink in hand. From the look of it, it seems that he's here with someone that’s currently absent. Perhaps at the dance floor or at the bar for drinks.

“Hey.” He shouts over the music. “I never expected to see you here.”

“I got invited.”

Seungmin moves closer to you, eyeing your face under the dim lights. He looks pleasantly surprised to see you.

“By who? I should thank him.”

His cheeky smirk turns into more of a curious expression when he eventually notices Hyeongjun observing your interaction.

“Ah, I see. You two seem close.”

“Yeah, we’re good friends.” You make a step to get closer. “I came to cheer for his band.”

“Friends…” The word slips with suspicion from the boy’s tongue as he repeats it. “So he wouldn’t mind if I do this?”

His finger reaches for your lips where a strand of your hair is sticking to your lipgloss. He removes it carefully, tucking it with the rest of your hair behind your ear.

You shake head at his question, glancing up to meet his eyes. They’re a bit hazed from the creeping effects of the alcohol, but mostly focused on you; smiling as in an invitation for something.

“Would you mind if I take you away from him for a few minutes?” He raises a brow, anticipating your answer.

“No.”

You follow Seungmin through a small corridor leading to the bathrooms. He shuts the door behind you and locks lips with yours right away, pressing you against the wall. You let him lower his mouth down your neck appreciating the way he handles you gently despite his obvious eagerness.

“You can touch me already if you want,” he suggests against your lips.

You move your hand from his chest to the waistband of his pants. When you feel his semi hard on in your palm, the doubts of your actions come to you, and you pull back.

“I’m sorry…” You look down at your feet, too nervous to face him. “I’m not sure this is right.”

Seungmin peels off his palms from the wall you’re leaning against, and simply nods.

“It’s alright.” He shoots you a sincere half-smile, not minding the situation. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

“You too,” you smile back watching him exit the bathroom.

You walk towards the sink to check up on your reflection in the mirror above. The effects Hyeongjun has on you are written all over your face.

A moment later, after you return to your table Hyeongjun asks you to join him outside for a smoke.

The chilly wind brushes over your skin as you walk out the door, but after spending time in the humid atmosphere of the crowded bar it feels refreshing despite the shivers.

Hyeonjun steps behind you with a cigarette between his lips to put his black denim jacket over your shoulders. He brought it expecting the breeze to be chilly since fall is approaching.

He can sense damn well what happened between you and Seungmin, and his crooked smile proves it. He doesn’t bother asking questions he knows the answers to, so he skips that conversation.

“Wanna get out of here? There’s a cheap hotel nearby where we can spend the rest of the night.”

An immediate spark pops in your eyes at the invitation.

You don’t succeed at hiding it in time and Hyeongjun catches the innocent glimmer, holding onto it as he cuts the distance between you.

“Why didn’t you ask me this earlier?”

“Why does it matter?” He asks back, letting the smoke slip through his lips.

“Because I was going to say yes.”

Hyeongjun’s brows jump intrigued.

Were you really so unaware? Can’t you see the true motives behind his actions?

“So now the answer is no?”

You take a moment to respond - you didn’t really get the chance to think about what’s your final decision.

After tossing his cigarette in the bin, Hyeongjun walks over to you again.

“Listen, doll,” he speaks softly and the name he suddenly calls you sends waves of electricity through your veins. “I know exactly what you want, I just need to hear you say it.” He brings up the loose strap of your top that was hanging down from your shoulder. “It seemed like you needed a little help to figure out your real needs, and I was more than nice to give it to you. Didn’t you learn some new things about yourself the last few days? I certainly did.”

His hands trap you against the wall as he leans in. Once again, you’re at loss for words, but not so much because of nervousness, but because of how badly you crave to be kissed by him.

“You’re a dirty girl who needs to be told what to do. You get off to being watched. You wet yourself when there’s a chance you might be caught and humiliated… or scolded.” He grips your jaw and you have nowhere to look except his dark seductive eyes. “Will the sweet guys you think you want like that?”

His mocking smile at your wordless reply lasts a second longer as he checks out your lips that have lost their sparkle.

“Tsk, Seungmin wiped off your lipstick.”

You dismiss the comment. His previous words take over your entire mind, and they shock you, because Hyeongjun has clearly found out about a side of you that you've never known about.

“Should I put on some more for you?” Your quiet voice comes out with a hint of provocation just as he brushes his thumb over the corner of your mouth.

Why hasn’t he kissed you yet?

You place your hand cautiously over his that’s resting on the side of your face. On the inside, you're begging to hear yes; begging to hear the invitation one more time so you can agree, and let him take you wherever he wants, and do whatever he feels is right for you.

“How did it feel kissing him? You must’ve dreamed about it a lot.”

“It was nice…” You mutter, capturing every little bit of emotion his face could make as you continue your thoughts. “It was pretty much how I imagined it would go.”

“Great.” He whispers with dry calmness before pressing his lips together.

“But it’s not enough, that’s not what I want anymore.” You admit, directing your gaze upon his. “I want you.”

His hands roam all over you, gripping your flesh shamelessly as if you’re going to slip away any second now, but you’re not going anywhere. This is where you belong. In a small plain room of a hotel you’ve never heard the name of; with him.

You turn around, allowing him to smack your ass, as you crawl to the centre of the bed. When you peek behind your shoulder, you see he’s already shirtless, keeping his eyes on the way your pleated skirt exposes your bare ass.

Your plush thighs stay slightly spread apart, anticipating what’s coming.

“Did he touch here?” He runs one fingertip between your soft folds which makes you fumble over one simple word.

“No.”

“Were you going to let him if he wanted to?”

Your ass is up in the air, tempting Hyeongjun to go further by bumping your entrance with the same firm finger. There’s already a new moisture collecting inside you, enough to spread it up to your clit and make your entire pussy slippery.

“No, I wasn’t going to…” You mumble, but hiss right after as your cheek jiggles from a new smack; the stinging warmth spreads on your skin pleasantly.

“Took you some time to answer,” Hyeongjun mutters, squeezing both butt cheeks with rings digging into your flesh. “You’re so fuckin’ desperate to pop your cherry, aren’t you? Gonna let anyone touch you, pathetic.” He moves one hand in front of you while the other sneaks into your hair. His fingers tug on your roots not too harsh, but not too gently either, just enough to signal that you have to rise up on the instant. “Must really suck having to rub your clit every day all by yourself, poor girl.”

With back against his chest, you mewl from the circling motions that rapidly stimulate your sensitive spot. He applies more pressure than what you're used to and the results quickly make your mind fuzzy.

“If we’re going to do this, you’ll need to learn how to use your words, kitten.” He quits the rubs and releases your hair. “Lay down.” His voice mixes with the harsh sound of a new slap landing on your cheek.

You watch him kneel between your legs, spreading them apart with a burning flame in his eyes. However, first he wants to pull down the straps of your top before going down on you. He drags the fabric down your chest, leaving it just above your bellybutton.

Hyeongjun has thought of your boobs so many times, that now when they’re finally right in front of him, he cannot contain the curses. His shameless stare doesn’t miss the way your nipple perks up after he flicks it with his finger.

Everything about you is so delicate and succumbed to his control. Since you’re not used to being touched, every single rub, pinch and squeeze from his hand makes you gasp, and your dazed eyes amazed.

You need so little to get on cloud nine, but little is far from enough for him.

That’s why once he dives into your slickness, he forces his tongue roughly, shooting a strong rush of arousal into your core. The hungry way he laps on your juices is almost maniacally; like he’s been waiting for this forever. He holds your shaking thighs, threatening to close around him as he rolls his tongue over your clit, before guiding it to your entrance.

“Gotta be soaked if you want to take me, doll.” He groans into your folds before spitting on them.

He shoves two fingers inside you, making you yelp. His heavy from lust gaze moves upon your face all scrunched from the intense sensations that you struggle to comprehend. The captivating sight of your reactions encourages his hand to move mercilessly in and out of you; the way you clench, exactly how he imagined you would, provokes his pace even more.

“Feels better when someone else does it for you, doesn’t it horny girl?”

“So much b-better, Hyeongjun… more, please…”

He bends down, and you take a close look of his mouth and sharp chin; they're glistening with your essence.

“Your mess is all over my face, clean me up.”

Your tongue starts roaming around his mouth, cleaning carefully the corners. Until you stop on his lips to take your time with gathering your juices. While you do this task, his fingers have put their scissoring motion on pause, and somehow the burning temptation to cum lingers inside you strongly as ever - only his middle finger is barely teasing with miniature bumps back and forth that you can hear the sound of in the silent room.

You don't hold back from sucking hungrily on his bottom lip and that turn out to be the last straw for Hyeongjun.

He smashes his mouth onto yours for the very first time, resuming to building back the pressure in your tummy at the same time.

The on going whimpers you make from your climax erupting so intensely get lost; swallowed from the lushful contact of your lips moving more greedily with each passing second.

You wrap hands around his neck to pull him closer, but to also have something to grab onto for support as you go into spasms. The moment the wave hits you, your mouth opens in a silent scream after your head falls back into the pillow.

“Cum again for me, kitten, that’s it.” His voice goes lower and lower as he watches you squirm in your skirt, unable to control yourself at all. “So good at this…” He arches his fingers against your sweet spot for a few more seconds, then takes them out to slap your vulnerable clit as a praising gesture.

“I’m impressed, you’re doing so well for a virgin.” Hyeongjun says, getting up to get rid of his jeans.

Your attention span is so weak at this moment, but it’s not possible to miss the appealing features of his silhouette when he goes to look for his jacket to grab a condom - as you later find out. The waistband of his black boxers contrasts against the tanned skin of his slim waist while the prominent contour of his erection has you anticipating to see what it looks like.

You heard him orgasm, but you haven’t seen him do it.

“Take these off, doll.”

You strip, but your eyes still stay focused on his body language. The nerves of seeing his cock being released from the stained fabric of his underwear make the knot of energy in your tummy swirl with a new speed. Finally being able to free it must have made him feel good based off the long sigh that escapes his lips once he takes it in his hand.

He tells you to turn around on your knees, and soon enough, you feel his tip gliding between your folds through the protection. Although you’re squelching from how wet you are, the first inch Hyeongjun forces into your tight entrance, makes you cry out.

“O-oh my God—“ You grip on the sheets as a sharp pain shoots through your lower region; the stinging quickly starts spreading everywhere. “Fuck, it hurts…”

“Shh, just think about how good I’m gonna fuck you once you’re streched out for me.” Hyeongjun grips your hips, threatening to leave a few bruises, as his face twitches with pleasure. His erection is so overwhelmed from your tightness that it keeps throbbing, making him want to cum on the spot. “Isn’t this what you want, pretty girl? Getting fucked like a whore?”

“Yesyesyes—“ Your response melts into a wail when you feel the agony from the rest of his size going all the way through you. Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes and you try your best to hold them in.

It doesn’t get easier when he begins to thrust into you, but the only thing you can do, is take it, and hope it does soon. The sound of his body clashing into your behind sounds so arousing though, his loud moans excite you even more than that; you don’t want any of it to stop, so you pull one of the pillows and bite, suppressing your hiccups miserably.

Until he covers your mouth and you’re left sobbing in his palm.

“Shhh, it will go away. Stop fuckin’ crying,” he rumbles, just because he loves the sound of the command, not because he really wants you to.

After he changes the position, by laying you on your back, you really realise how much you turn him on when you cry. For this year and a half since you’ve known each other, he’s never looked at you like this once - as though he’s trying to memorise every detail that makes up your face. You’ve catched yourselves staring at each other before; you’re always the one to look away pretending your attention was meant to be directed somewhere else, while he, on the other hand, never has a problem in holding his gaze on you.

But it was nothing like this.

Hyeongjun follows the erotic stains of your tears like hypnotised, until you hang arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into reality.

“Don’t stop…” You sneak your fingers into his dark hair, but as much as he likes the feeling of it, he quickly grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Don’t stop what?”

“Fucking me… Please, I want this.”

Your voice breaks in the middle of a desperate moan after Hyeongjun fills you up again in one rough push. His strong cravings dictate his speedy pace in addition to his desire to see you completely fucked out under him; resulting into degrading words to keep flying out of his mouth.

“You liked that, huh...” He growls, as your whines that now sound like they come more from pleasure than from pain, begin to rise with each slam his cockhead gives your g-spot. “Does my slut starts to feel good, tell me.” He shifts in order for his hand to find your clit and rub it with quick motions that have you rolling your eyes back.

“Soo g-good… l love it so much!” You blink up through your coiled lashes, mumbling incoherently through whimpers, “f-fuck—“ You gasp, taken aback by his hand suddenly moving to your throat. You feel his fingers hugging your neck, putting the ideal amount of pressure on both sides to get you dizzy as his hips don't plan on slowing down.

“Gonna fuck you so good you won’t settle for anything less than my cock, you hear me... Nothing will ever feel like this again, kitten.”

You try to hold onto every word he says, as they send waves of arousal in your tummy, but it all becomes too much - they start slipping from your mind the second Hyeongjun mutters them in his panting.

“Look at me,” he grunts. “Don’t be pathetic, look at me as I fuck you.” He scoffs at the way your smeared with makeup eyelids barely stay open. “Rub your clit, come on. Don’t just lay there.”

“Mhhm…” A noise of desperation slips from your trembling lips the second your fingers get in contact with your overstimulated nerves. You don’t even need to press against it, a light brush is enough to bring your climax when the rest of you is scorching from his pounds. “Hyeong— ‘m gonna cum—“

“Tsk,” Hyeongjun clicks with his tongue before turning your head with a slap. Your hand automatically pulls away from your clit. “That’s not the way, pretty one. What do whores say when they want to cum?”

“Please… let me cum, p-please.”

“Better,” he lifts his upper body up, locking eyes with your pleading gaze. “You’re trying your best, so I’ll let it slide.”

The multiple orgasms are starting to take their toll on you, and you look so captivating with your miserable tears, and little head in the clouds. His curiosity has him already wonder how much more you can handle, but at the same time... he wants to save some things for the future.

You feel the burning rush rising to flood your body, and your eyes squeeze from embarrassment, however, a moment later they open from a warning smack on your thigh.

“Look at me as you cum, doll. Is this all it takes to fuck you dumb?” He takes a peek at your boobs and how they bounce with every shove of his length, before staring back down at your one hand returning to your sore clit. “Already sleeping on me, holy shit—“

Hyeongjun’s face contorts the moment you suck his cock in, tightening around it. He remains silent, wanting to focus on your moans elevating, turning heavier as your mind goes blank.

The condom gets fully soaked from you as you cum even harder.

With all the strength he has left, he slams the tip of his cock into your deepest spot, sloppier, but just as intense, waiting for your high to cool off before he pulls out.

As his own panting normalises, he gets up, slipping off the messy wrapper from his shaft.

“Come,” he calls out, standing on his feet in front of the bed. His fist is caressing his now bare cock through slow steady tugs. “Yeah, crawl to me, kitten.” He eyes the trouble you have using your wobbly legs with a satisfying smirk on his flushed face.

“Stay.”

You freeze on all fours with palms close to the edge of the mattress.

It’s right in your face. There’s no condom to hide it, and you see the angry redness of his leaking tip. You can’t help, but gulp your drooling over and over again, as he lowers it down to your mouth.

“I’ve only done it with my hand,” you remind him when he gets closer with the swollen head between his fingers.

“Just stay still and don’t forget to breathe.” He simply states, but then decides there’s one small thing he can help you out with. “Open your mouth for me.”

You blink up, showing him a glimpse of your pink tongue. It takes you a seocond to figure out what he’s planning on doing. Just after you notice the thick string of spit escape his lips, you realise that you have to catch it. You stand in the same position, dismissing the ache in your sore muscles as you wait for his saliva to fall in your mouth.

Seeing it finally glide to the back of your tongue, Hyeongjun invites his cock in your small mouth, with an unexpected persistence that makes you wince on your knees.

He finds it cute, that after all this time he has you under his control, you still expect him to go easy on you.

“Wanna see you take all of it, fuck,” he whispers, and his hand resting on the back of your head, feels your attempts to pull back already. “If you want to get fucked like a slut, you should start sucking dick like one. Come on, make your mouth just as filthy as your pussy,” he gives you an encouraging slap, feeling how hard he is through your cheek. “Prove to me you make a good whore.”

He pushes your head towards his lower abdomen in want to hear you slobber around his length as much as possible.

The loud groan you hear above you, after his tip stays in the deepest part of your throat, sends shivers down your spine... You wish you could make him feel this good without any of his guidance.

As he said, you make sure to keep breathing through your nose, simultaneously fighting back the urge to gag from the unsettling taste the rubber of the condom has left on his warm skin.

You force your tongue to flicker as much as possible, roaming wherever it can reach. Now that his hand stopped forcing you into his tummy, you bob your head in a slower, more sensual pace.

“That’s it, make it wet, doll.”

Your eyes look up innocently, tempted by the subtle praise in his tone. You even produce a satisfied moan which shoots a pleasant vibration through his core and cause him to tangle his fingers into your hair. You couldn’t resist it; seeing his dark messy hair fall into his face that's contorted by the pleasure he receives from you, brings you just as strong delight.

A moment later, the bitterness on your tongue becomes too much and you have to spit him out despite not wanting to. Your head falls defeated when you begin to gag embarrassed by your behaviour.

“Shit, it just started to feel good, what do you think you’re doing, huh?”

“I’m sorry, it’s the condom, the—“

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” Hyeongjun cuts you off, tilting your wet chin up. “I want to cum, are you denying me that?”

You shake your head, staring at him with wide apologetic eyes.

“I’ll do better,” you quietly say under your breath. Your heart skips a beat when he squats, leaning in so close your noses almost brush against one another. You close your eyes, anticipating the thrilling touch of his lips, but you know you have to work for that, and you quickly look back at him. “Spit on me… again.”

Hyeongjun’s eyes fixate on you with surprise as he stands up straight.

“Please,” you add the magic word, and you see his dark gaze sparkling from how exciting it sounds in your voice. “I deserve it.”

He doesn’t hesitate to grip your jaw steady, then spit at the centre of your face. He does it one more time, then another, till your twitching features have enough of it.

You open your eyes to his cock tapping your cheek; his slippery length spreads the saliva everywhere on your face, then forces itself through your lips.

This time, you succeed in bearing both the taste and the pain of his size bullying your throat a bit easier. You begin to get used to it, but the fact Hyeongjun’s quick hips do all the work helps you out too - this way, you don’t even have the time or the ability to think about anything at all.

He glides in and out of your mouth, mercilessly, not paying attention if you struggle or not. The knot in his core is so close to snapping as your eyes fill with tears again, the thought of slowing down or opening his eyes does not even cross his mind.

“Fuck, fuck—“ he groans in a much weaker voice than before. The new vulnerable note to his tone makes it obvious he’s close. “God, fuck! Yeah, swallow it, kitten.”

You do your best to stay still as he releases his orgasm on the back of your tongue; throbbing in between your hollowed cheeks.

The intense fluttering that follows in your chest from his hand, roughly closing your mouth to keep it all in, makes you smile shyly before you take his warm seed down your throat.

“Your first time eating my cum.”

It was your first time of many things.

! please do not repost, copy or translate my works

! please keep in mind that english is not my first language. i apologise in advance for any mistakes i’ve might missed

#joocomics.xdh #joocomics.fics #— remember your first #xdinary heroes smut #xdh smut #junhan smut #han hyeongjun smut #junhan x reader #hyeongjun x reader #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh x reader

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badomenslullaby · 12 days ago

Text

Chapter Two

Paring: Noah x Fem reader

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

MasterList

Tag List: @dominuslunae

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you dash down the side walk, rushing home. It had started to rain an hour ago; what had started as a light sprinkle had quickly turned into a downpour. Your grandmother had dragged you all over town, shopping at small stores, chatting your ear off and anyone else who would listen. This made you way behind schedule, much more than you would’ve liked. It took you five minutes to sprint to your family’s shop and race up the stairs to the apartment, where you ran straight into your room.

Frantically, you tear through your closet, trying to find a cute outfit as fast as possible. With barely a second to think, you settle on a black lace bustier cami top, ripped black skinny jeans, and your trusty pair of Demonia platform boots. You quickly run your hair under the tub faucet to wet it down, working in your usual hair care products before letting it air dry; no time for over-styling today. By the time you’re finally ready, it’s already 7, leaving you no choice but to rush out the door with your umbrella in hand and camera hanging around your neck. Glancing back at your text messages, you see the address is only a five-minute walk away.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, you pull out your phone and open your messages. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating for a moment as you decide what to send.

You: Running a tiny bit behind but speed-walking my way to you.

As you walk, you begin to notice the shift in your surroundings; you're entering one of the fancier neighborhoods. The houses are bigger, spaced farther apart, with perfectly trimmed hedges and manicured lawns. The yards are greener, the air feels quieter, and everything seems just a little too put together. You double-checked the address, slightly confused and worried that you may have put it into the GPS wrong, but to your surprise, you put everything in correctly.

You feel your phone buzz and see a text from Noah.

Noah 🌟: Noted. I’ll keep the storm clouds distracted till you get here.

You smile to yourself and let out a quiet giggle. A few minutes later, you’re standing in front of a medium-sized lawn and a large two-story house, the steady thump of music pulsing from inside. Your nerves creep back in as you realize that when he said party, he didn’t mean a chill get-together. He meant a full-blown, house-packed kind of party. If it weren’t for the rain, you’re pretty sure the huge backyard, judging by the tall privacy fence, would be just as packed as the inside.

Part of you feels like you need to look this man up, because if he can afford a house this big and throw a party this packed to celebrate an album release, he must be pretty damn good… and have a decently large following. With a deep breath, you make your way up the surprisingly long driveway. Just as you reach the porch, a couple of drunk guys stumble out of the house, accidentally bumping into you on their way down. They mutter a few slurred apologies before disappearing into the rain. You step inside and immediately do a double take. The house feels way bigger on the inside than it looked from the street.

Both levels of the house are packed with people. Metal music blares from speakers; you're guessing it's Noah’s band, and the whole place buzzes with the sounds of laughter, shouting, and clinking drinks. Games are in full swing, and more than a few people are already drinking like it’s a competition. To your right, you spot the kitchen, and there he is. Noah, standing at a beer pong table, laughing with a group of guys as he lines up a shot. Carefully, you start weaving your way through the crowd, gently pushing past clusters of people until you make it to the kitchen.

Excitement bubbles in your chest as you get closer. Finally, you make it to the kitchen, where there’s a little more breathing room than the crowded walkway and living room. You pause for a second, watching Noah as he sinks a shot right into the cup. He throws his hands up with a victorious cheer, and then he sees you. His face lights up instantly, and just like that, the noise around you seems to fade a little. Your face heats up a little, and mentally, you blame it on how warm the room feels. Definitely the room. Noah starts making his way toward you, a grin still on his face. As he reaches you, he opens his arms wide, wordlessly offering a hug.

“Morrigan!” Noah exclaims over the music as he wraps you in a hug.

Your face turns a deeper shade of pink, more than it already was, and you can’t help but catch his scent. Vanilla and sandalwood. And damn, it’s heavenly.

“I’m so glad you made it,” he said, with his breath tickling your ear, causing you to shiver slightly..

“I’m glad I made it too.”

You and Noah look at each other for a moment, something lingering in the air between you, until someone clears their throat behind him. Noah blushes slightly and turns toward the interruption.

“Right, sorry,” he says with a sheepish smile. “Morrigan, I want you to meet the rest of the band. The guys are cool, I promise.”

With a small laugh, you look over at the group of guys. Noah points to the shorter one out of all of them.

“This animal is Nick,” Noah says with a grin. “He’s our drummer and the sickest one you’ll ever have the pleasure of witnessing.”

Nick gives you a friendly wave, then immediately focuses on the game, launching a ping-pong ball toward a cup… and missing entirely. Noah points to the guy next to Nick, who’s laughing and talking shit while making Nick chug from a red Solo cup.

“This here is Jolly,” Noah says. “He’s a badass on the guitar and will blow you away with the riffs he comes up with. He also has a funny accent, he’s from Sweden.”

Noah playfully mimics the accent at the end, earning a light smack on the shoulder from Jolly. Noah then motions towards a guy with long black hair and a Star Wars shirt who is at the other end of the table, playing against Jolly and Nick.

“This here is Nicholas, our bassist. I know the whole two Nick things get kinda confusing sometimes, but you can just call him Nicky like I do-” Before he can finish his sentence, Nicholas throws a ping-pong ball at him.

“Only Noah can call me that, and even that’s pushing it,” Nicholas says with a small laugh.

He walks over to you and holds out his hand.

“You can just call me Nick,” he says with a warm smile.

You shake his hand, letting out a small laugh.

“I’ll call you Nick #2, how’s that?”

Nicholas laughs and nods.

“That’s fine with me. Anything’s better than Nicky,” he says before heading back to the table.

Noah leans in a little closer and smiles.

“We’ve known each other since I was sixteen and he was eighteen, so he lets me slide with the embarrassing names… sometimes,” he adds with a small chuckle.

Noah nodded toward a guy with long brown hair and a Lord of the Rings shirt standing next to Nicholas with a drink in hand.

“That asshole over there is Matt,” he says with a smirk. “He’s our lovely manager.”

Matt looks over and flips Noah off.

“I heard that!” he calls out with a laugh.

“Good, that was the point,” Noah fires back, flipping him off in return with a grin.

Noah turns his attention back to you, and his smile softens slightly.

“I see you brought your camera,” he stated. You eagerly nod at him.

“Yeah, I wanted to take some pictures since we are celebrating. I thought it would be a cool gift for you and show some support,” you say bashfully.

You notice that Noah’s cheeks look a little flushed, but you figure it’s probably from the drinking. Lifting your camera, you smile wide.

“Smile,” you say, already aiming the lens at him.

Noah meets your eyes, his flushed cheeks deepening just a little more as he smiles, genuine and soft, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes. You snap the photo, catching him in that perfect moment: rosy-cheeked, a little tipsy, and completely unguarded. You giggle to yourself as you glance down at the picture.

“Perfect,” you say, turning the camera to show him.

When you show him the picture, his smile softens, and without warning, he gently takes the camera from around your neck. Lifting it up, he aims it at the two of you, pulling you close to him. Your head naturally rests against his shoulder, and suddenly, you're enveloped in his scent, amber and sandalwood blending effortlessly with your own mix of vanilla and light citrus.

It’s warm and familiar. It’s nice.

He snaps the picture and immediately checks the screen. You watch as his smile grows, soft and genuine, before he turns it to show you. Both of you have a sparkle in your eyes and matching pink cheeks. It’s sweet, unposed, and effortlessly you. A photo you know you’ll definitely cherish.

“Perfect,” he mumbles, still looking at the photo like it’s something rare. Your eyes flick up to him, your heart skipping just a little. But then you feel eyes on you. Glancing over, you notice that even though they’re still technically playing beer pong, the rest of the band is watching you and Noah with smirks and smiles. You straighten up, cheeks warming, and gently take the camera back from Noah.

“Thanks,” you murmur, tucking the strap back around your neck.

“We’re gonna play some of the songs live tonight, around ten,” Noah says, rubbing the back of his neck. “You sticking around for that?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a smile. “I’d love to get some pictures of that.”

He smiles at your response and gives you a light nod.

“So, what’s the album we’re celebrating tonight?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Finding God Before God Finds Me,” he says proudly, the title rolling off his tongue effortlessly.

“Well, I’m excited to hear your sound,” you say with a smile. “And to see you guys in your element.”

Noah’s grin widens, and for a moment, he looks genuinely touched. You glance at your phone: 8 o’clock. Your eyes drift to the kitchen counters, lined with bottles of alcohol.

“Want a drink? I can make you one,” Noah offers with a raised brow.

You nod, scanning the options laid out in front of you.

“As long as it tastes sweet, I’ll drink anything,” you say with a light laugh.

Noah nods with a small laugh and gets to work. You watch as he pours some of the Jungle Juice into your cup, then tops it off with a little more fruit punch to dilute the taste.

“Hope this is sweet enough,” he says with a wink.

You give him a calm smile as you grab your cup, but inside, you scream and melt at his wink. Can a guy get any more attractive? You take a sip, and your eye only twitches slightly. Noah bursts out laughing.

“Was that the ‘it’s sweet but still kinda deadly’ twitch?”

You grin through it.

“Maybe.”

You take another small sip, raising a brow at him.

“I think you’re trying to get me tipsy,” you tease.

Noah leans in just slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear over the music.

“Maybe... but only so I can still seem cool once you realize what a big dork I am.”

You let out a soft laugh, your cheeks warming all over again.

Before the moment can stretch too long, one of the guys calls his name, and he gives your shoulder a gentle nudge.

“I’ll be back. Game’s not gonna win itself.”

You watch him rejoin the group at the beer pong table, a smile still lingering on your lips as you lift your camera and start snapping pictures. Over the next couple of hours, you manage to capture everything, from winning shots at beer pong to Folio attempting a keg stand. When you glance at your watch, you realize it’s almost time for the boys to hit the stage for their set, and a fresh wave of excitement bubbles up inside you.

As the clock strikes 10, the boys make their way down to the basement, the crowd trailing behind them in a wave of excitement. You manage to weave your way through, pushing yourself to the front just in time to catch sight of the small stage they’ve set up in the spacious basement.

“I would just like to thank you all for coming here tonight to celebrate our album,” Noah says into the mic.

You find yourself staring, slightly mesmerized, as you watch him tuck his shoulder-length hair behind his ears. The simple gesture somehow makes your heart skip. Around you, the crowd erupts into cheers, the energy buzzing with excitement and pure contentment.

“Before we start, I wanna introduce a friend of mine,” Noah said before pulling you up on stage.

Your face goes red. You were never one who did well when the spotlight was on you. Yeah, you love doing art and showing off your photography, but you always did that behind the scenes. Never really showing your face, just submitting them in contests and local art shows and then walking around like you weren’t the creator.

“This is my friend Morrigan!” Noah’s voice carries over the mic, drawing a few curious glances your way. “She’s a local photographer, and she’ll be snapping some shots of the performance tonight. So do me a favor, give her the space she needs. And when you start moshing,” he adds with a playful grin, “try not to knock her over or break her, yeah?”

A few people chuckle and nod, while others glance your way with welcoming smiles. You can’t help the warmth that spreads through your chest. Offering a small, slightly awkward wave in thanks, you step down from the stage and make your way back to your spot at the front, camera ready in hand.

“Alright, motherfuckers, let’s get this show started!” Noah shouts into the mic, his voice cutting through the air.

The first song they launched into was Limits. The room exploded with energy, bodies crashing into each other in the pit, heads banging in sync with the beat. You raised your camera, capturing shot after shot of the chaos, freezing the raw energy in perfect frames. Next, they shifted into Burning Out; the pace slowed slightly, but the intensity never wavered. You’d heard this one playing over the speakers earlier, and now, hearing it live, it cemented itself as your favorite. Its beauty was undeniable and powerful. As Noah’s voice poured into the chorus, you lifted your camera once more, catching a string of photos, each one somehow more stunning than the last.

Noah mentioned that the next songs were from their debut album, released back in 2016, before launching into Malice and Hedonist. Each scream he let out was more powerful than the last, raw emotion pouring from every note. You found yourself completely captivated, not just by his presence on stage, but by his voice. The control, the intensity, the passion behind every lyric had you hooked in a way that no photo could ever fully capture.

“Alright, motherfuckers!” Noah yells, pacing back and forth across the stage, his voice dripping with intensity. “This one’s called Dethrone!”

As the guitar riffs kicked in, you could feel the entire room shift. The air grew heavier, and you instinctively took a deep breath, bracing yourself. Noah let out a guttural scream, and all hell broke loose. The crowd surged forward, bodies shoving to get as close to the stage as possible while pockets of mosh pits erupted in different corners of the basement.

But as the first verse started, the excitement twisting in your chest began to turn sharp. The room felt like it was closing in, the walls pressing closer with every pulse of the music. Your heartbeat quickened, no longer matching the rhythm of the song. Panic started to creep in; you needed to find an exit, fast. You look at Noah, but he is too far into the song, so he isn’t paying attention to you. With a deep breath, you began pushing your way through the dense crowd, desperate to reach the stairs. The air felt thick, like trying to breathe through honey, each inhale growing harder, each step more unsteady.

Every time you tried to move straight back, another wave of bodies shoved into you, knocking you off course and making it almost impossible to find your way out. Suddenly, someone bumps into you hard, sending you crashing into one of the basement’s support pillars. Pain shot through your head the moment it made contact, and your vision blurred as a sharp, pulsing migraine bloomed behind your eyes. The room started to spin, the music warping and stretching like it was underwater.

You stumble as you finally reach the stairs, your legs barely holding you up. But as you climb the first step, your foot catches, sending you sprawling forward, right onto your camera. A sharp crack rings out beneath you, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Your hands and knees tremble as you crawl up the stairs, moving slow and unsteady like a wounded animal searching for shelter. Every inch feels heavier than the last.

When you finally reach the landing, you haul yourself upright, using the wall for support, and stagger into the kitchen. The upstairs was still crowded but nowhere near the crush of bodies from the basement. You push off the counters and walls, half-blind, half-aware, guiding yourself through the living room and toward the staircase to the second floor.

Once you reach the hallway, you fumble for the nearest door, the first one on the left. The knob turns, and you slip inside, the room cloaked in darkness. But the scent hits you immediately: sandalwood and amber. Comforting. Familiar. Your body gives out as you collapse onto the bed, sinking into the sheets, and finally, mercifully, you let go. The world fades as unconsciousness swallows you whole.

#bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #noah sebastian davis #bad omens cult #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens fanfiction #fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #badomenscult #bad omens x reader #badomens #noah bad omens #noah sebastian bad omens #noah sebastian fic #noahsebastian

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steddieas-shegoes · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Hope ur doing great! First of all, I really love your fics! I think you're really talented.

I have a request, if it's not too much trouble. I can't stop thinking about a Steve w/head trauma (so, maybe migraine prone, memory issues, etc) and a DM Eddie that still resents Steve from high school. Eddie doesn't know Steve struggles with the complications of his concussions, so he keeps judging him for it. Say, for example, Steve got a terrible migraine and couldn't pick the kids up from Dnd and Eddie thinks he's probably at a party and stood them up. Then Eddie finds out, maybe from Steve himself or a Party member or Steve's parents. (If you could somehow sneak in Steve's parents being good caring parents for one, it'd be really cool.) Eddie apologizes and they start getting closer. And, yeah, that's all. Thank you!!!

We know I love writing Steve with a migraine. Not to jinx anything, but it's been almost two weeks since I've had one myself so I'm sure the torture I put him through here will have instant karma and I will wake up with one. Is it realistic for Eddie to pretty much fall instantly in love with a man he hated the night before? No. Do I write realistic stories? No. Buckle up for the fastest burn you can possibly read today! - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------------------------

Steve Harrington was late.

Not just a few minutes late, not like he maybe got held up at a light for an extra two minutes, not like he had to stop for gas.

He was 25 minutes late.

Eddie was pissed.

He didn’t mind hanging out with the kids longer, wouldn’t have even minded if he’d just been given a heads up that Steve would be late.

A phone call.

A fucking letter by pigeon.

Anything.

Dustin seemed worried, more than anyone else, though the later it got, the more Lucas and Will and Mike seemed to worry too.

And Eddie would maybe worry too, except he knew what was happening.

He knew because it’s all he ever expected of Steve.

Steve probably went to a party, thought he could make his rounds, maybe have a drink and sober up in time to come get the kids.

And then he probably got bribed into having another drink, maybe smoke a joint in the backyard of whatever rich kid’s house he was visiting, maybe have a shot with a group of kids who liked to spend their time bullying the very kids he was supposed to be picking up.

Maybe fuck a girl in a bedroom upstairs until he was too tired and just passed out on top of her.

He rolled his eyes at the thought.

“Maybe we could try to call his house again?” Lucas asked.

“He didn’t answer the first four times, why would he now?” Mike asked, though his eyes kept scanning the road into the trailer park, searching for headlights that wouldn’t appear.

And wasn’t that just the last straw for Eddie? Watching his favorite gremlins admire and respect someone who couldn’t even remember to pick them up? Watching them expect so much from a guy who peaked in high school, who didn’t care about them if it hindered his plans?

“You guys wait here,” he said, his hands shaking with anger.

“Where are you going?” Will asked.

“To call Robin. If anyone will know what’s up, she will,” he replied.

It was late, but not too late for a phone call between adults.

“Buckley residence, you’ve got Robin,” Robin answered the phone with a bored tone.

“Any clue why your best friend is 30 minutes late to pick the kids up from my house?” He tried not to sound angry at her, it wasn’t her fault.

But he couldn’t hide the fact that he didn’t understand what band nerd, lesbian, nice person Robin could possibly see in Steve.

Sure, he carted the kids around a lot, and had helped Wayne out with Eddie’s medical stuff after Vecna, but it felt like he did it out of guilt more than anything else.

“He’s never late,” she said, her tone sharp, defensive. “You sure he knew they needed rides?”

“Positive. I heard him yell to them when he dropped them off that he’d see them in three hours.”

Robin didn’t respond for a minute, and he almost thought the line went dead.

“Has Dustin tried the walkie?” She finally asked.

“Yeah. No answer.”

“Shit.”

Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Wanna fill me in here, Buckaroo?”

“Um. Can you bring the kids home? I gotta go check on him.”

Before he could respond, the dial tone let him know she was already gone.

“Fuck!” He yelled.

He hung up the phone and grit his teeth together.

The problem wasn’t taking the kids home, he really didn’t mind and had told them on multiple occasions that he could so they didn’t have to rely on Steve to do it.

The problem was that they had relied on Steve and he let them down.

He hated that he’d have to go out there and tell them that Steve wasn’t coming.

He hates Steve for the way he would have to watch their faces fall, for the way they’d ride to their homes in silence.

He hated Steve for the fact that he’d probably buy them all ice cream tomorrow to apologize and they’d all rely on him again.

All would be forgiven.

———————————-

The next morning, he tried calling Robin and got no answer.

He tried calling Dustin and got no answer, though he wasn’t as surprised by that since he’d already been considering going to the Sinclairs’ to spend the weekend since his mom was working.

He tried Steve’s house and got an answering machine. Twice.

He considered leaving a scathing message, but didn’t want to risk one of his parents hearing it and deleting it.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself before he grabbed his keys and decided to drive to Steve’s house.

He was a little surprised to actually see Steve’s car in the driveway, half expecting him to still be passed out at some stranger’s house.

Before he could ring the doorbell, the front door swung open and Robin’s wide eyes were silently begging him to stay quiet.

She looked exhausted, a little flustered, more stressed than he’d seen in a long time.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

Maybe Steve drank more than he should’ve, maybe he wasn’t actually home and she was trying to find him still.

“Come in but be quiet. He’s finally sleeping,” she said, already walking back into the house.

He followed, closing the door behind him and giving his surroundings a quick look.

Everything looked perfect as usual except for Robin’s shoes by the door and her backpack open on the floor by the couch.

The couch that Steve was currently passed out on, blankets almost completely covering his head, ice pack resting over his eyes.

Eddie’s brows furrowed.

“Hangover?” He whispered to Robin.

She looked at him confused.

“No? He hasn’t drank in nearly a year.”

If Eddie didn’t have more control over his body, his jaw would’ve dropped.

“Oh. Um. So is he sick?” Eddie tried to gather up his thoughts, glancing over at the sleeping form on the couch.

He noticed the curtains closed and no lights turned on, noticed the complete silence in the house except for the sound of a fan running in the corner.

“He gets migraines. I thought you knew,” she said.

Eddie shook his head.

“He’s had a lot of head trauma. Gets migraines that make it impossible to even sit up sometimes. I guess he was fighting it most of the day yesterday but after he dropped the kids off with you, he passed out in the shower and barely was able to crawl to his bed after. When you called me, I kind of assumed the worst, so I came straight here and saw him naked and shivering in bed, not able to get up to get dressed or even get the covers on. Got him dressed, got him water and meds, called his parents, tried to help him eat. He spent almost an hour throwing up after that. Then he cried because he forgot the kids. Memory problems happen with the head trauma, too. I couldn’t calm him down until about an hour ago.”

Eddie let himself feel the guilt he deserved for thinking the worst of Steve.

Steve didn’t deserve this. No one did.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Eddie whispered, his voice broken thinking about how Steve had been alone here, probably scared when he was curled up in his bed unable to move.

“No. His parents are on their way. If it’s not better tomorrow, they’ll probably take him to his neurologist,” Robin responded.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

A whimper came from the couch, causing Robin to tense and hold her breath.

Eddie looked over and waited to see if maybe Steve was completely awake or if he’d just made a noise in his sleep.

After a few seconds, Robin relaxed, and he felt a breath leave his body.

“How often does this happen?” he whispered as she went to grab a drink from the fridge.

“This bad? Once a month or so. He sometimes has some memory problems without the migraine, but luckily he snaps back quickly,” she shrugged, acted as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Eddie could see right through her.

“And you help him a lot?”

“Well, his parents travel a lot for work, and he can’t always call them or remember how to contact them when it’s this bad, so yeah. I tend to be the one to take care of him until they can get here,” she said.

Eddie chewed on a piece of his hair, glancing over towards the couch every few seconds.

He was surprised this hadn’t come up before.

He was even more surprised that none of the kids had mentioned this as a possibility last night.

“Why didn’t the kids mention it last night when I was pissed?” he finally asked.

“Steve doesn’t really tell anyone. Like, the kids know, but they’ve never actually seen it, and so I think they just kinda forget. He doesn’t wanna bother them with it.”

“That’s stupid, they care about h-”

The front door started to open and a woman peeked her head inside.

Robin ran over as quickly and quietly as she could and Eddie stood awkwardly behind the couch as a middle aged woman walked into the house.

A man followed a few seconds after, a bag in hand.

“Is he asleep?” the woman asked.

“Yeah,” Robin replied before explaining much of what she’d already told Eddie to them.

The Harringtons looked surprisingly put together for a couple who probably hadn’t slept all night and most likely had flown home from somewhere as quickly as they could. They also looked nothing like what Eddie expected.

Mr. Harrington was bald, age spots on his head giving away that he must have been quite a few years older than Mrs. Harrington. She had the same color hair as Steve, same voluminous style, cut just above the shoulders. They both wore glasses, and both of them were wearing business attire like they’d rushed back directly from a meeting.

“And who is this?” he heard Mr. Harrington ask, gesturing towards Eddie.

He walked over and put his hand out to shake, trying to remember the best manners he could.

“I’m Eddie, a friend of Steve’s.”

He could feel Robin staring at him, but didn’t turn towards her. Instead, he shook Mrs. Harrington’s hand and then offered to help with any other bags they have.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We can get them later. Since he’s asleep, we’re gonna go freshen up a bit and then you can head on home. Thank you for taking care of him, Robin. You know we appreciate you so much,” Mrs. Harrington said as she hugged her.

“It’s never a problem. Take your time,” she said.

“I’ll stay, Robin. You should go home and sleep,” Eddie offered before he could think about what he was offering.

“You’ll stay? With Steve?” Robin asked incredulously.

“Yeah. He seems pretty out of it so I’m sure he won’t even wake up before they’re done,” Eddie said, hopeful that he was right.

“Alright, my mom should be here in a few minutes anyway. She was bringing me a change of clothes in case I ended up staying today, so she can just bring me home,” Robin said hesitantly.

“Okay.”

The Harringtons nodded and walked upstairs without another word, most likely too tired to care much about who stayed with Steve as long as he was being looked after.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this,” Robin said when they were gone.

“I know. But I’m the only one here who slept last night, I can handle it for a bit.”

“He can be…kind of a lot,” she sounded like she didn’t want to admit it, didn’t like saying something negative about him at all.

“It’s fine. If he’s in this much pain, then it’s understandable.”

Robin looked him over for a moment, something like understanding finally showing on her face. He didn’t know what she was understanding, but he was just grateful she didn’t seem to want to talk more.

She started zipping up her backpack, putting on her shoes, and whispering some basic instructions to Eddie in case Steve woke up.

“Replace the ice pack, don’t let him try to move off the couch by himself and only if he has to use the bathroom. The bucket at the end of the couch is if he gets sick. He needs water if you can try to help him drink some, and if he thinks he can stomach it, there’s some crackers on the coffee table. He’s due for more meds in two hours, but you probably won’t be here for that,” she rambled off.

Eddie nodded along, mentally making a to-do list.

“You’re sure you got it? He sometimes isn’t able to talk.”

Jesus Christ, how had he never noticed this? Was he that oblivious to what Steve was going through?

“I got it.”

He could hear a car pull into the driveway and Robin opened the door to leave.

“If you need me, call me. The Harringtons will probably be as quick as possible, but just in case,” she begged him.

“Okay.”

She left and closed the door behind her quietly, leaving Eddie staring at it for a minute.

He heard a small whimper from the couch and he rushed over, looking down at Steve.

The ice pack had fallen off his face, and his eyes were scrunched closed like he was still suffering even in his sleep.

Eddie leaned over to pick up the ice pack, ready to trade it out with a fresh one, when one of Steve’s eyes opened.

He froze and looked at him, hoping he would go back to sleep quickly.

“Eds?”

Shit.

He’d started calling him Eds in the hospital, always walking into his room with a bright smile and a ‘hey, Eds’ that had Eddie cracking a small smile.

He hadn’t heard it since then.

“Yeah?” he finally responded, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

He knew when Wayne got headaches, he was very sensitive to noise.

“Hurts,” Steve whimpered out.

Eddie’s heart shattered in his chest.

He walked closer to the couch and knelt down on his knees, placing a hand on Steve’s forehead.

“I know, Stevie. You wanna try to have a sip of water for me?” He whispered.

“No, hurts.”

“Might help,” Eddie tried to bribe him.

But Steve’s eyes were closed again, and even though he wasn’t asleep, he was making it very clear that he couldn’t quite handle keeping them open right now.

Eddie gently ran his fingers back and forth across his forehead, down his nose, along his temples, smiling as Steve’s wrinkles seemed to disappear, his face relaxing slowly.

“Go back to sleep, Stevie,” he whispered.

“Mhm,” Steve let out before he seemed to actually fall back asleep.

—------------------------------

Eddie didn’t move from his spot for nearly 45 minutes, even when his legs went numb and his hand started cramping.

Steve hadn’t so much as snored, so Eddie didn’t want to risk any movement waking him up.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mrs. Harrington asked him, startling him slightly.

“No, thank you,” Eddie responded as quietly as possible.

“Are you the Eddie from the hospital? The one he insisted on visiting every day?” she asked as she sat down on the coffee table right next to him.

“Um, yes ma’am,” he knew he sounded nervous.

“Oh, so you boys worked it all out? He promised he’d tell me if you said yes!” she smiled at him.

“Worked…what out?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your feelings! Steve told us he was going over to your house the day you got out of the hospital and telling you how he felt,” she explained, sounding somewhat unsure now.

Eddie felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor.

“He what?”

“Oh dear,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “I suppose I was wrong.”

Eddie saw Mr. Harrington walk into the kitchen from his spot on the floor, felt the tension in the air as Mrs. Harrington tried to change the subject quickly.

But he wasn’t going to stop thinking about what she meant.

Steve had had feelings for him? Like, more than a friend feelings?

Steve let out a small groan in his sleep, shifting his head a bit.

Eddie tried to shush him a bit, running his fingers gently through his hair, careful not to catch on any tangles.

He could feel Mrs. Harrington watching, but she didn’t say anything else until Steve seemed to calm again.

“You know, Steve came out to us in March. Said he’d met a guy who was worth the risk. We love him, we always will, but we were very worried. I think any parent worries when their child, even their grown ones, says they’re in love with someone. In this case, we didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even liked men. And Steve here tends to fall fast and fall hard and forgets to wear a parachute before the jump.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, his head filled with the way she’d called his feelings love.

“But I think I see now that he didn’t need one. I think he had you jumping with him and you remembered the parachute for him.”

He turned to look at her, her fond smile pointed at them both as he continued to run his fingers through Steve’s hair.

She got up and went into the kitchen, leaving Eddie to think about what she said.

That’s all he did for a while.

—---------------------------------------

The next time Steve woke up, he was slightly more coherent, but still didn’t want to eat or drink.

Mrs. Harrington had gone to lay down for a nap while Mr. Harrington was finishing up something in his office. They both told him to come find them if Steve woke up and needed something.

At some point, Eddie had rested his head against Steve’s chest, listening to his heart beat loudly against his ear.

“Eddie?”

No, why Eddie again? Why not Eds?

“Hey, Stevie,” he lifted his head and spoke just above a whisper. “How about a few sips of water?”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help.”

Robin had been kind enough to find a straw for the cup of water she’d gotten before she left, so Eddie just held it up close to Steve’s lips and told him to sip.

Steve did manage a few sips before he shook his head and started to turn away.

“It’s time for more meds. Wanna take them?” Eddie asked.

“Bed?”

“Um.”

“Carry me.”

Eddie let out a small laugh at the demanding tone in Steve’s voice.

Even through the pain, and exhaustion, and struggle of speaking, he sounded like a drama queen.

Eddie might love him.

“Won’t that hurt?”

“A little.”

“Then shouldn’t you stay here?”

“Wanna cuddle.”

Oh.

“Uh. With…your mom?”

“You.”

Eddie was going to pass out.

There was no way he’d be able to carry Steve up the stairs to his room and then cuddle with him, and pretend he wasn’t feeling the overwhelming urge to propose marriage.

These new feelings kicked in too fast for him to process and he knew cuddling wouldn’t help.

“Please?” Steve asked, his eyes squinting slightly from what little light was making it through the curtains.

“Okay, but don’t laugh when I get out of breath.”

Steve didn’t respond, or really do anything to acknowledge what Eddie said, but he was pretty sure Steve’s head hurt too much to laugh anyway so he took a chance.

He removed the blankets on top of him and managed to pick him up relatively easily.

The walk to the stairs wasn’t bad.

The walk up the stairs was rough for a couple reasons: One, Eddie was out of shape and Steve weighed roughly the same as him. Two, Steve kept whimpering in pain with every step.

When they finally reached his bedroom, Eddie was panting and Steve had a couple tears falling from his eyes.

“I sure hope the cuddling lives up to expectations after that,” Eddie tried to joke.

“Worth it,” Steve sighed.

He set Steve in his bed first, made sure the fan in the room was on and the curtains were shut, then got into his bed.

People dreamed for most of high school to be in this position, but Eddie hadn’t let himself picture it.

He wouldn’t have ever pictured this scenario anyway.

Steve was sweaty, almost like he was running a fever, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him from scooting closer and moving Steve into his arms.

They both fell asleep in minutes, Eddie’s fingers wrapped up in Steve’s hair.

—----------------------------------------

When Eddie woke again, it was pitch black in the room.

Steve was also awake.

“Stevie? You need something? Feeling any better?”

He didn’t answer for a minute, and Eddie considered running to get one of his parents, when he finally spoke up.

“A little. Thanks”

Eddie let out a breath and relaxed back against the pillows under him.

“You can go if you want,” Steve nearly whispered into the darkness.

Eddie tensed again as he looked over at Steve, who was playing with the blanket covering him in his hands, not looking at Eddie.

“And if I don’t want to?” Eddie asked, reaching a hand out to hold Steve’s.

“I know you hate me, so. You can go.”

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Eddie couldn’t let him think he hated him, even though up until this morning, he thought he did.

“Stevie, lay down and look at me.”

Steve, surprisingly, listened and Eddie felt a tug at his heart that Steve was willing to listen to him that easily.

Eddie cupped Steve’s jaw, gentle in case of any lingering migraine pains.

“I don’t hate you. I think I realized that maybe I had my own feelings wrong for a long time,” he admitted.

“What?”

“The best part of my days in the hospital were when you visited. Wayne used to make fun of me when you left for being stuck in the hospital for longer because I was lovesick. And when I got home and you didn’t come visit unless you were bringing the kids by, I just kinda thought it meant things were back to normal. King Steve didn’t need to be nice anymore, his charity case was safe and mostly healed,” Eddie stopped Steve from interrupting at that, scared to lose his train of thought. “So I went back to hating you. It’s easier to hate someone when your heart’s broken, ya know? And I just assumed you were the same Steve I thought you always were. But then I realized that you never really were the Steve I thought you were. And especially now, you’re a guy who deserves kindness and care and love. I’d really like the chance to give that to you.”

He felt Steve’s face getting wet and he brushed his thumbs back and forth to wipe away the tears falling.

“I was going to tell you the day you got out of the hospital,” Steve said, voice trembling.

“Tell me what?”

“That I loved you.”

The world stopped spinning, Eddie would bet money on it.

“You did?”

“I did.” Steve gulped. “I do.”

“You do?”

“You’re a hard person to fall out of love with, Munson.”

It was Eddie’s turn to cry, a few tears falling from his eyes onto the pillowcase below.

“So…”

“So?” Steve asked.

“Is the headache better? I’d really like to kiss you,” Eddie said.

“It’s good enough for a kiss. Might even work better than the meds,” Steve’s smirk could be seen even in the darkness.

Eddie didn’t need to wait for more permission than that.

He was gentle, of course. Just because his migraine had gotten better, didn’t mean he was ready to make out.

He gave him a couple soft pecks on the lips, smiling when he felt Steve smiling against him.

“I think you’re probably pretty easy to fall in love with, Harrington.”

“Yeah?” he asked, voice rough.

“Yeah, might be a new record for me.”

“I’ve been told it’s very sexy when I’m suffering through a migraine,” Steve joked.

“You have no idea,” Eddie joked back.

They stayed in bed all night, Steve eventually falling back asleep again.

Eddie stayed awake though, memorizing the shape of Steve’s body with his fingers, or at least what he could reach while he held him.

They could talk more tomorrow, when Steve’s migraine fully subsided.

But Eddie knew what he wanted now, and he’d never been so happy to be wrong about someone.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #ficlet #request #steve harrington has head trauma #hurt/comfort #getting together #angst with a happy ending

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angelofthenight · 1 year ago

Text

What Doesn’t Kill Me Pt.1

(Yandere!Alex Delarge x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You were finally free from your abusive and obsessive “boyfriend” when he was arrested with a long sentence. But when he comes back to you on his knees in tears after the Ludovico's Technique, you can’t help but welcome him back into your arms once learning that he is literally incapable of harming you ever again. Yet you begin to question your own morals.

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Ladstat, Swearing/Language, Unhealthy/Abusive relationship, Sexual context/themes, Non-Con (off screen rape), Gangs, Obsessiveness, Home invasion, Sexual sadism, Physical abuse/Violence, Knife threat, Blood, Spitting, Brief pussy slapping, Alex is his own warning, You are responsible for your own content consumption

Word Count: 4.2k

( Fun Fact: I fucking hate Alex so much but I wrote a very long essay about A Clockwork Orange’s moral of redemption for my senior year of film studies class and I got an interesting idea for a yandere fic. Like how would the darling react if the yandere was “cured into being a good person”? )

Table of Contents

You hated Alex Delarge. You hated him. You loathed him. You despised him. But most of all, you were terrified of him.

On the contrary, Alex was head over heels in love with you. He was absolutely smitten with you and you were the center of his world.

You were practically forced to be his girlfriend. He just one day walked up to you and declared that you were his girlfriend now. And every day since that day was hell for you, the torturous part of hell that you are chained to.

Your soon to be nightmare all started when you two were just standing next to each other at the record store flipping through rows of records that were next to each other. He pulled out a record that caught your eye, it was one of your favorites, you thought you were the only one in town who listened to that band. Your passion for that specific artist made you smile and say aloud, “I love that record.”

He looked up at you with surprise in his eyes. He didn’t think anyone in town knew the record.

His silence made you awkwardly rant. “I honestly thought I was the only one in town who liked them. No one knew who the hell I was talking about when I would bring it up.” You gave a lighthearted laugh. “I love how the order of the songs makes a story and how each melody can, like, control what you feel. It’s a work of art. Gives me chills every time I listen to it.” You said all of this with your grin growing bigger, so happy you could talk to someone with taste.

The corner of Alex’s lips lifted up and his eyes gleamed with genuine joy, thrilled to meet someone who understands the brilliance of his favorite record. The two of you had a very long conversation about the record which extended to talking about other kinds of music. You both would drag each other around the shop to show the other some of your other favorite records.

You two instantly clicked and got along. Alex felt so comfortable with you, his mind felt at ease, and he enjoyed just simply talking with you. He’s never felt that way about anyone before. He actually enjoyed listening to you. You were so understanding, so open minded, so fascinating.

You two met in the record shop about three more times after that and would hang out for the rest of the day. You liked being around Alex. He was very funny and always put you in a good mood with his positivity. He was a very easygoing and eccentric guy; a rarity in this town full of people with sticks up their asses.

You thought nothing but good things about Alex. You really enjoyed having him as a friend. That is, until he fell for you.

In his own defense, how could he possibly not?

You were so kind and gentle with him, treating him as if he were your priority. You could get so feisty, like a house cat. As much as he loved his women defenseless and frail, your straightforward approach and no-nonsense attitude in situations that called for it really riled him up. You made him laugh and always had knowledgeable opinions. You were so smart and had an ability to be unashamedly open. And you had some real horrorshow groodies.

It was as if you were specifically and meticulously and personally made for just him. You had the same music interests as him, your exact physique was his dream girl body, your jokes always landed perfectly with him, your eyes were coincidentally his favorite color, and your breasts were the perfect size for his hands.

Alex didn’t believe in love, nor believe in wasting time seeking it. But you… you had just infected him with a fever no ice pack could soothe. Your ivy vines laced and intertwined around the wrinkles of his brain making you his constant thought. And those leaves left behind a poison ivy rash he couldn’t scratch away.

You were everything he had ever wanted. Everything he would never be… but still wanted to own.

After a night of exhilarating ultraviolence, terrorization, and vandalism with the gang, he felt such a rush. And because of that rush it was that moment where he realized he had to tell you the truth. He must have you. So he left his pals a little early to make his way straight to your apartment. He knew where you hid your spare key so it was easy storming into your living room and finding you cleaning up after yourself of your dinner.

Alex was too caught up in his adrenaline to take notice that he only took off his mask and hadn’t changed out of his gang-related wardrobe, far too focused on getting to you. But you had noticed. It was the very first thing you noticed as he stood in front of you with a breathless grin. And it was all you could focus on even as Alex declared with a cane in his hand that the reason as to why he’s been acting so strange lately was because he was in love with you.

Your iris’ were shaking and your breath was heavy within your chest as you took in the clothing from his bowler hat down to the visible codpiece. What he was wearing looked exactly like what one specific violent gang wore in the papers next to the article explaining the increase in gang terrorism due to the reduction in policing effectiveness. Juvenile delinquent gangs populated the streets because of how understaffed the police force was, most people barely even went out these days. But, for a reason you now understood, you always felt safe yourself when you went out into public, especially with Alex. But now you understood why you were safe when seen with him.

“Alex… what are you wearing? Is this a joke?” You shakingly spoke out, not responding to his confession which appeared to irk him. He took a step toward you which prompted you to take one back. Alex glanced down at his clothes and in honesty… he didn’t really care if you knew. He was creative with ways he could keep you quiet. He honestly kind of liked it if you knew.

"These here are just my nochy on the town duds with my droogs.” He announced with a sharp grin, gesturing towards his white clothes. “You won't dob me in, won't you, devotchka?” He said with a joking tone despite the threatening look in his eyes.

Your frown sunk down, your lungs feeling as if they were closing in on your heart making it harder to breathe steadily. Your hands wrung together in a nervous fashion as you seemed to cower away from someone you considered a friend. “Alex, you’re scaring me. I… I think you should leave.” You said with the delusional hope that he would respect your wish and exit the way he came.

But Alex wasn’t having it. “Leave without your answer?” He exclaimed as he held out his cane then slammed it down against your floor with one hand on his hip, tilting his head up with a sense of pride. “I think not.”

He wasn’t going to leave until he got your answer to his confession. You felt sick to the pit of your stomach. Your lips parted but no words were released. You didn’t know what to say, too caught up in the chilling realization of Alex’s secret life.

You’d be lying if you said you never really thought of him in that way, because you have once in a blue moon. How could you not with your handsome and funny male friend who always made time for you? You always teased the idea of dating him in your mind, experimented with the thought of being in a relationship with him. But it was never more than that though. More of curiosity and craving a partner rather than a crush.

You struggled to find the right words. “I… I… I feel… I-” You were torn between not wanting to encourage or provoke him yet also fearing your safety. “Spit it out, devotchka. Koshka got your tongue?” He giggled with a devilish smirk.

“I just…” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, as if trying to swallow your fear, before it got too big that it would render you mute. “I really like you as a friend.” You fully expected him to lash out, scream at you, anything of the sort. But he simply cackled like a child.

“Nonsense, dearie!” He said in between the chuckles. “You’re just taken by surprise, is all! You’ll surely change your mind after some lubbilubbing.”

Your eyes widened in shock and horror and offense. You thrashed your arm up to point at your front door with a face full of upset anger. “Get out, Alex! I mean it!” You demanded, not believing this was all coming from someone you used to respect and think kindly of.

He, however, wasn’t phased by your raised voice and demand as he began to take swinging steps toward you, his cane lifting up to rest over his shoulder. “You’re not just gonna send me off without any sweet treat, are ya, love?” He said with a sick smile, his eyes going hooded with a predatorial shadow over his blue orbs that began to travel your body.

Your blood went cold, stinging your bones like frostbite, as you took notice of your nighttime wear. You didn’t plan for company and due to living alone you had the habit of dressing a little more indecently, as well as because you planned to go to bed right after finishing cleaning your dinner dishes. Your goosebumped skin hardly had the safety of coverage from your silk one-piece pajamas that consisted of thin tank top straps and shorts.

Your bottom lip grew so unbearably heavy that it began to shake, you taking a slow step back despite how close he’s gotten already. Your frighteningly alarmed eyes kept themselves trained on Alex’s as he stalked forward like a lion cornering an antelope, that shit-eating grin still intact.

“Y’know,” he started while he slowly began to close in on you as you walked backwards, “I think, deep down, you’re a bit of a bad girl.” He said, a tone a tad darker than before which only made your heartbeat pump painfully in your pulse. Your terror was slowly swallowing you whole like a drain.

“I think you might get a kick of it if I come on strong, just a bit rough.” He said, and before you could react in fearful panic to what he was implying, he held both ends of his cane in his hands and swung it over your head to land on your lower back. He used the position of his horizontal cane to roughly pull you closer to close the gap, sending you straight into his chest.

You gasped at the action and instantly began to struggle, throwing your hands up in an attempt to push him away by his shoulders or to at least grant some distance between the two of you. But he kept you tightly against him. “Excited now are we, eh?” He chuckled down at you, your resistance getting him all hot and bothered.

Before he confessed how he felt about you, Alex had already assumed that you felt the same way. He had an intense belief in his own perception of reality and didn’t really consider the possibility that you may not share the same feelings. His view of love was distorted and interpreted any signs of kindness or attention as your reciprocation.

But Alex was a self-aware guy. He wasn’t blind and deaf to how you clearly did not want him by how you panicked and struggled within his hold. But now that he thought about it… he didn’t really care about how you felt. Your rejection surprisingly affected him a lot less than he would’ve guessed, it actually didn’t really hurt that much.

He was naturally driven by his own twisted desires and impulses. He just wanted to exert control and power over you, rather than to seek your genuine love and affection, even though he had to admit that those would be nice to have. It was like he was in his own world, detached from the reality of reciprocal love.

He loved you. And that was all that mattered. He could still do whatever he wanted to you. And with the right tactics, he could make you do whatever he wanted. So what exact difference would your feelings make?

Alex’s cane dug into your lumbar spine, springing a pained wince past your teeth. Your attention was so focused on the pain on your skin that you gasped in unpleasant surprise at one specific tug on your body that made your pelvis grind right into the bulge of the codpiece. You stifled your whimper behind your teeth, the hard pad rubbing a sensitive part of your clit as Alex continued this action with a malicious grin.

When he got you distracted enough he took the opportunity to quickly pivot around you, rotating his cane around your body from your lower back to against your neck. The sudden harsh pressure on your throat instantly made you wheeze, your hands flying up to grasp onto the stick to try to grant you some air but to no avail due to the imbalance of strength between you and Alex.

You felt his chin rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his cheek also pressed against the side of your neck. You felt his smile and heard his pleasurable inhale through his nose. He was enjoying your struggle. He lifted his head so that his lips touched the shell of your ear, prompting you to make an effort to squirm away from his touch. But the grip he had on the cane across your frail throat made it easy to keep you as close as possible.

“Very well tomorrow’s your laundry day,” he practically purred into your eardrum which only created nausea that spread throughout your gut, “because those sheets of yours are about to get very merzky.”

If his innuendo hadn’t paralyzed you to absolute terror, you would’ve paid more fearful mind to the question on how he knew when you did your laundry.

You whimpered in powerless fear when he jerked you with the cane to force you to walk backwards. Well it was mostly him walking and your feet practically being dragged; your hands still remained on the cane to try to loosen its pressure on your cartilage. He led the two of you into your bedroom, jabbing his foot back to kick your door open in a wider frame. Once you were in he had tossed you onto the mattress with little care.

Tears began to prickle your eyes once you had collided into your bed, coughs following from the stinging pain on your throat as you gently touched where it hurt. You weren’t allowed much relief of personal space when Alex threw his hat to the side before crawling onto the mattress to reach you. He tightly grasped your biceps to flip you onto your back, him taking a comfortable seat on your waist.

He angled his torso above you and rocked his hips, grinding his clothed erection against your pelvis just once before he placed one hand next to your head. His other hand slowly wrapped itself around your face to force your shaking, watering eyes onto his carnivorous ones. He stared at you for a moment, a moment too long for your comfort. He stared at you and you could practically see the feverish twisted and covetous thoughts stream behind those bright blue eyes. And then a Cheshire Cat grin spread his lips after realizations awoke in his mind.

“Thou art such a beauty when you platch.” He said. The feeling of sadistic fervor and his far-too-long repressed lustful temptations were morphed together into bedroom eyes.

You went owl-eyed around your petrified pupils. Finally, you couldn’t hold the weight any longer as the situation became much too real to you and the heavy tears spilled out of your eyes. Alex’s smile widened before he pushed himself back up to straight posture, both of his hands reaching behind his back to unsheathe a dagger from his cane.

The sight of the long and sharp blade made your deep frowning lips part, a faint yelp weak in your throat. It was as if your horror stole all the words from you and left you far too terrified and weak to say anything. And your ears felt nearly deaf from the violent beating of your heart that rang in your eardrums. The only sounds you could hear were your scared sobbing wails and the sound of your pajamas ripping as he dragged the dagger down the clothing like a zipper.

Once sliced open enough, Alex placed the knife in his mouth to hold it with his teeth as he used his hands to tear it open the rest of the way. You were left in nothing but your panties, no bra due to the fact you had planned for independent slumber. But now you wished your sleeping customs were different as you laid exposed and helplessly vulnerable underneath the wicked monster you once felt joyful to call your dear friend.

And that monster’s eyes took in your vulnerability with a deranged infatuation; eyes that ravished the sight so hungrily. With the dagger still clenched between his white teeth, Alex’s hands were free to reach down and grope your breasts like dough. You whimpered with a feeble tremble, your leaking eyes squeezed shut in severe discomfort as you tightly gripped the sheets with white knuckles.

He grasped the side cups of your chest to push your bust together, giving him a better view of both of them at the same time. The action made you sharply inhale from the sensitivity, but it was as if that woke you up because you then felt the protective courage to snatch his wrists in an attempt to claw his unwanted touch off you; furious and disgusted by his animalistic audacity.

Your attempt of defense was rendered as nothing but a detriment to yourself as it was simple for Alex to free himself from your hold. One hand slammed onto your elbow to cage it to the mattress and his other hand retracted the dagger from his mouth to push it horizontally against your still hurt throat. Not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make you cower away from him and attempt to push yourself deeper into the mattress to escape the touch of the blade.

“Now, now, now, my dear darling.” He spoke with a sharp smile and pupils dilated in insanity. “Don’t do anything you will regret. Best to just lay back, relax, and enjoy the show. Maybe a couple of tears here and there for sweetness. But be the noble girl you always are and behave while I ravage your cunt.”

He turned the dagger diagonally to rest the tip atop the center of your collarbone. His grip on the handle was tight and you knew one wrong move on either of your ends would end with your blood gushing down your naked body. “I’d hate to carve up such elegant plott. It’d be a sin!” He tapped and glided the blade against your neck teasingly.

He leaned down to position his lips next to your ear. “But it’s a good thing I’m not a gloopy malenky dobby church boy.” He breathed out, causing your limbs to shiver in sickened fear. “I’m not afraid to get a little sinful.” He husked before he opened his mouth to drag his wet, warm tongue from your jawline up to your ear. Your joyless frown involuntary trembled.

Alex angled his face above yours, taking in your visibly terrified features and your salty rivers of tears and nearly salivating at the sight. “Now… Do you promise to behave?” He asked you with a cruel, mocking tone. The breathy, agonized sob you were holding occupied your throat so all you could do was reply with a twitchy yet compliant nod.

His smile practically lit up. “That’s my devotchka!” He exclaimed proudly before parting the dagger from your chest and instead moving it to rest against your jawline, allowing his thumb to caress your tearfully wet cheekbone. He dipped his head down to capture your lips within his for a sweet and simple kiss. He separated himself after he was satisfied with the taste to look up into your immensely glossy eyes with unfiltered fondness.

Your intoxicating lips tempted him to return for another, but quicker, deep kiss before his hands slid down your waist to hook his long fingers around the hem of your panties. He kept them there as he moved himself to come face to face with your sheltered cunt. Your frowning lips quivered as you bit them to ease your pounding heart. But not even your mind that tried to make you recite an entire work day in your head to distance yourself from your reality could distract you from Alex lifting your hips high up into the air so that he could straighten his back.

He smiled devilishly down at your forbidden flower with unhinged admiration laced within his features and eyes, your legs dangling over his shoulders. And without a hint he had shoved his nose straight into your clothed clit and took a deep, dirty inhale. You whined at the contact. He removed his nose to look down at you. “My, oh my. Your sladky von of strack is quite to die for, my dear.” He chuckled sardonically in his throat to himself before jokingly pecking a kiss to your clothed folds, creating a ‘mwah’ sound, and chuckling again at your second whine. He truly found your meek fear amusing.

He released the hold he had on your hips, letting your lower body plop back onto the bed with a bounce. Then he jumped the gun, his hands back onto the band of your panties and tugging them off down your shivering legs. Clasping his hands tightly onto your inner thighs, he pushed them apart to spread your legs wide open to put your cunt on full display for his ravishing eyes.

Breathy sobs began to invade your voice despite your desperate resistance to such. You just couldn’t believe this was happening. Your body shook as if you were freezing yet you felt your humid sweat as if you were boiling, it was a sickening feeling as your once sanguine world crumbled around you.

Alex retched inward to spit onto your clitoris, gave it a second to let his thick saliva ooze down your folds before using his fingers to rub in the slimy substance. He used an up and down then circular motion before giving it a slap, creating a wet, lewd sound.

You barely even registered Alex removing his codpiece then pants and boxers until he positioned his erection near your now wet hole and climbed on top of you, leaning his face awfully close to yours with his hands pinning your wrists. He relished the sight of your bloodshot eyes coated with hot tears and the sound of your distressed sobbing begs. A sense of sick euphoria swelled up within him.

Oh god how he adored you; his severe psychopathic obsession. Truthfully, Alex would’ve done whatever it took to have you.

He held a predatory gaze. “You’re my world, darling.” He purred to you before thrusting himself into you with a possessive claim and lustful selfishness fueling him.

Alex was right about your sheets. After a very long night of the old in-out-in-out, multiple rounds and positions and orgasms later, he finally left you on your bed and made his exit. Not without promising that he'd be back and proclaiming that you were now his and his alone though. And threatening you as well about tattling.

He was right, your sheets became filthy. They were vandalized with both of your climax’s and your blood, as well as your tears and a few rips that had been made with your gripping nails and his dagger. Your body was as vandalized as your sheets. The elegant skin of yours he seemed so fond of was now littered with bruises, hickey’s, bite marks, nail scratches, and small blade wounds (you just couldn’t stop yourself from resisting and fighting back so many times). But it seemed like he loved the sight and color of your blood as he had lapped it up every time his dagger and his teeth punctured into you.

You laid in the mess and weeped. Your mind was vandalized worse than both your sheets and body. Vandalized with betrayal, trauma, violation, dread, and a mortified horror. All of what Alex was deep down this entire time.

That was when your life became the torturous hell you had to live with.

#reader insert #yandere #yandere x reader #dark fic #alex delarge #yandere Alex Delarge #alex Delarge x Reader #yandere Alex Delarge x Reader #a clockwork orange #clockwork orange #stanley kubrick #malcolm mcdowell

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