#good parent summer rose

[anthurak]

"Likely cared about her the most out of her teammates. Given how she’s clearly taken Summer’s loss far harder than Qrow or Tai." Its literally been a major plot point since V2 then Summer's disappearance caused Tai to completely shut down for actual years. Straight from Yang. How can you possibly ignore that to make a claim that Raven cared more? I know your a Rosebird truther to the extreme, but come on your ignoring the words of characters who actually were there

So this is a great example of what I’ve been saying about how much of the fandom’s idea of the background of Team STRQ is based on some major assumptions. And many of them drawn from sources that are not entirely reliable.

To the point, IS Tai ‘shutting down’ after Summer’s disappearance really a major recurring plot point? It’s only been brought up twice in any kind of significant way, and more notably is something we’ve only ever heard about and never actually SEEN. Now that’s not to say that Yang has been lying or somehow wrong about Taiyang’s grief, rather that the only place we have actually seen that grief is through the effect it had on Yang and Ruby. Whereas we have thus far seen basically nothing of that grief from Tai himself. Seeing as how we have never seen him so much as speak of Summer, outside that one episode of Fairy Tales of Remnant that only had an inference of his grief. Simply put, the narrative of RWBY has treated Taiyang’s apparent grief-stricken breakdown as a key aspect of Yang’s backstory and character development, rather than part of Tai’s own character.

And more to your point: How can I claim that Raven cared more about Summer and took her disappearance harder that Tai?

Simple. Just note the past tense in ‘Tai completely shut down for years.’

Regardless of how hard Tai apparently took Summer’s disappearance in the past, when we look at him in the present, it’s clear that he has been able to heal and move past that grief and overall looks to be in a pretty good place now.

Contrast that with Raven who is clearly still wracked with grief and trauma over whatever happened during that mission and whatever happened to Summer.

Reading between the lines, the show has made it pretty clear which among Team STRQ took Summer’s disappearance the hardest: On the one hand we have Qrow and Tai, who after all these years, seem to have coped with their grief fairly well, all things considered. And on the other hand we have Raven, who is clearly still a complete fucking wreck.

What I think much of the fandom is missing is that there is a slowly growing disconnect between what we heard about Team STRQ’s backstory and what we are actually SEEING play out.

Back in Volume 2, we took everything Yang told Blake at face value and assumed that she actually knew everything she was talking about and was right about everything.

When in reality it’s becoming more and more clear that there is a LOT about her parents’ team that Yang, and by extension Ruby, have had NO IDEA about.

With how consistently RWBY has utilized the ‘unreliable narrator’ trope, especially when it comes to our heroines’ parents and mentors, when it comes to formulating theories, more and more I’ve taken to putting MUCH more stock in what we SEE of our characters over what we might simply ‘hear’ about them. Especially when it comes to characters as shrouded in mystery as Team STRQ, and particularly after what we saw in the Volume 9 finale which flat out TOLD Ruby ‘there’s a BUNCH about your family that you have been completely wrong about’.

It’s not that I think Summer didn’t care about Tai and Qrow, or that she and Tai weren’t very close. Ruby’s vision from the Tree proved that pretty conclusively. Nor do I think Tai isn’t or hasn’t been a loving, caring father to both Yang and Ruby. Again, the story has shown that quite definitively.

Rather, I think there is a LOT more going on with Ruby’s and Yang’s parents than we realize. And that a LOT of what we have assumed base on what characters told us in the show’s early volumes is going to turn out to be either VERY incomplete or even outright wrong.

Like when the story has told and shown us basically nothing of Summer’s relationship with Tai, while at the same time leaving more and more narrative breadcrumbs about Summer’s relationship with Raven, or in the case of the V9 finale, clubbing us upside the head with a wholeass baguette, it gives more and more of an impression that THIS is the relationship of most narrative significance and consequence among the team. And that some things both we and Yang and Ruby assumed were not actually the case. Say for example, Tai not actually being Ruby's biological father...

[thornsofrosesdumps]

team STRQ more like team shit parental figures

[sugugasm]

. ༉‧₊ 𝐀 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐄

✧ synopsis : after almost a decade of a healthy marriage, four kids, and a stressful bakery opening, you and toji have learned to take your alone time very seriously.

✧ tags : firefighter! toji + baker! reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, blk fem reader ofc, mentions of alcohol, public sex ?? in the car, mentions of vaginal penetration, cowgirl, pet names like bby, love, pretty, mama bc yall already know etc, excuse any errors. i wrote this in a few different povs at first so — 𝟓.𝟖𝐊 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smiles as he pulls into his driveway, the familiar cacophony of squeals and thuds greeting him before he’d even opened the door - the kiddos must’ve been riding the after dinner sugar high. cheerfully shaking his head, he braced himself for the chaos and noise that awaited inside your now shared, cozy little place the two of you have grown to call home.

it’d been nearly six years since that fateful summer when you’d quite literally swept into his life like a swirl of sunshine and baked goods. six years of dizzying ups and downs, laughter and tears, the most intense love he’d ever known to face. sometimes it still didn’t feel real, even now - this life you’d built from the spark of simple flirting over sweets n’ crème brulee.

so much had happened in that span of adventures : you, graduating at the top of your culinary class, your desserts and pastries that you’d stressed so hard about being the toast of the competition circuit. toji retiring as lieutenant of the fire department after over a decade of service, not daring to miss out on any more milestones as the two of you started your family. not to mention the whirlwind of wedding plans, and then the magical day itself where you vowed forever to each other in front of family and friends.

then the true blessings had come along, one right after the other - megumi, who was still adjusting to the new family dynamic of it all, but was yet so proud of his father. little rascally rose, a firecracker just like her mama with the same bright eyes and full curls. goofy, tender-hearted kenji who practically worshipped his big brother and sister, wanting nothing more than to mimic their every move and be just like his papa. and finally malachai, the happy surprise baby who seemed to have inherited the best of both his parents’ feisty personalities.

toji wouldn’t trade this beautiful chaos for anything in the world. but he’d be lying if he said the constant juggling act of family life wasn’t difficult - for the both of you. it was rare for you guys to get a real moment alone together, just the two of you. your intimacy had cooled down amidst all the lovely distractions, as had the simple art of conversation beyond trading information about grocery lists and pediatrician appointments.

date nights had become a long forgotten luxury, almost seemingly impossible to coordinate when your trusted babysitters were your siblings with families of their own. but tonight, uncle satoru had stepped up and volunteered his services, giving toji and you a well overdue opportunity to reconnect.

toji unbuckles his seatbelt and exited the truck, tamping down a flutter of nerves. what if the easy rhythm and sizzling chemistry you’d once shared was gone for good? a victim of sleep deprivation and chicken nugget overdoses? what if it was too late to rekindle that spark?

pushing open the front door, he was immediately swamped by a tiny army of squirming, chattering bodies. “papa, papa, papa!” rose seized his hand and tugged insistently. “you gotta’ see the cool fort we built! kenji made it super big this time!”

“we’ll show ya, dad!” kenji crowed, already streaking towards the living room, malachai hot on his heels with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“hold up there, you lil’ tornados,” toji called in vain, being unceremoniously dragged by his giggling daughter into the chaos. every available pillow, cushion, and blanket had been appropriated to create an elaborate tent city surrounded by toys and stuffed animals . . and gojo sat smack in the middle of it all, long legs splayed out as he played some kind of intricate make believe game with the two boys.

“baby, you’re home!” you swept in from the kitchen, wisps of hair escaping your messy bun and face flushed from exertion. you were wearing a cute pink sundress that struck a nostalgic chord in toji’s memory - you’ve had it for years, one of his favorite things to slowly peel off of your shoulders after a night out to be exact. “thank goodness. i was startin’ to think i’d have to call backup.”

you stand on your tippy toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, and just like that, his weariness evaporated as if by magic. your familiar floral scent, your soft warmth, the kids’ laughter surrounding him - this moment of serenipity in the midst of routinely chaos bringing a lump to his throat.

“not a chance,” he rumbled, sliding an arm around your waist. “i wouldn’t miss this for the world.” downy goosebumps erupted down your arms at his words, flustering deeply. awe, his voice still got you going after all this time. good to know. very good to know. “y’all holdin’ down the fort?”

“y’know how it is,” you reply with a gentle squeeze of his hand, watching in fond exasperation as rose ordered poor gojo to lie down so kenji could perform his ‘very important surgery.’ “satoru took his role a lil’ too seriously this time and got lost in their games.”

you stood together watching for a few moments, the kids pausing just long enough to acknowledge toji’s presence again before diving back into their shenanigans. it was all so beautifully vibrant and alive, the little people you created and who brought such joy, such richness and meaning to your lives. but still . . . toji felt the undeniable tug of wanting you all to himself. just for a few hours at least. he wanted to bask in your undivided attention. to remember what it felt like to not share you with anyone else.

you must have picked up on his restlessness, your eyelids drifting shut as he stroked the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “soon as we get back, m’ cravin’ some peace n’ quiet. maybe a hot soak in the tub after all this madness.” your tone was light and casual, but the smoldering undertone was unmistakable.

toji found himself swallowing reflexively as his skin prickled with awakening interest. “is that a promise, mama?” he murmured gruffly, not even trying to hide the roughness in his voice.

you peeked up at him through long lashes, a smile curving on your lips. “mm . . . you should know this by now. m’ a girl who keeps her promises.” burying any further suggestive replies, you cleared your throat and turned to gojo, who’d been buried under a pile of stuffed teddy bears. “alright babies, mama n’ daddy gotta’ go for a bit. gumi’s at a friend’s place, and there’s dinner in the fridge if you guys get hungry — so pretty please be good for your uncle gojo, y’hear?”

a chorus of whines follow after your words, but the kids were quickly distracted again by the siren song of more roughhousing. rose blew toji an exaggerated kiss while kenji and malachai paid both of you absolutely no mind whatsoever, already wrestling in a tangle of small limbs. gojo simply shot you a weary thumbs up from beneath his plush prison, glasses askew and hair wild as toji fought the urge to chuckle, “have fun you two. keep me posted, and please for the love of god - quit knockin’ her up, toji. i’m being attacked by three little rascals and it’s just absolutely absurd,” he jokes.

“i don’t make promises i can’t keep, satoru.”

you fished your purse and sweater from the hall closet while toji hovered close, drinking in every detail of you. suddenly he was struck by the profound urge to pull you in close and just breathe nothing but you, to lose himself in the familiar softness and strength of your embrace. but he restrained himself with an effort. all too soon they’d be able to indulge that craving for closeness, he reminded himself as you linked your fingers through his.

with a final wave to the kids and fond shake of his head at gojo’s predicament, toji guided you to the car. the simple act of opening your door and helping you in was enough to set his pulse racing, anticipation crackling in the air as your fingers tangled briefly together. electric from even the most innocent of contact.

by the time he’d slid behind the wheel, he felt ten years younger, energized by the promise of this evening alone with the woman he loved. as toji pulled out of the driveway, you were already reaching for the radio to cue up one of your old playlists, humming along contentedly as warm twilight spilled through the windows. toji cuts you an affectionate glance and reaches over to squeeze your knee - a brief, cherished moment before the magic began.

he couldn’t wait to see where it all would lead.

“so where we headed, hot stuff?” you asked, eyes sparkling with mischief as she toyed with the ends of her hair. “hopefully somewhere without a soft play area and a kids meal if y’know what i mean.”

toji snorted, distracted for a second by the way the skirt of her sundress rode up her thighs as she shifted in the passenger seat. “nah, no funzones tonight. but i can think of a few things i’d like to play with though.”

his suggestive drawl was rewarded with a scandalized laugh and playful swat to his shoulder. “you’re so gross, babe.” your eyes twinkle with amusement before flickering to the darkening sky outside. “seriously though . . . surprise me? i wanna’ be wooed. s’ been too long since you’ve had the chance to take me out. we used to do it all the time.”

kissing away the pout on your lips and squeezing your knee again, toji grinned crookedly. “i know, baby. tonight will be one to remember - i swear.”

true to his word, he bypassed all the usual dining spots they frequented as a family, instead guiding you to a cozy trattoria tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street you didn’t even know existed. he pulled up in front and turned to gauge your reaction, smile widening at the look of surprise and delight on your lovely face.

“bambolino’s?” you exclaimed, craning your neck to peer through the warmly lit windows. “toji, this place is famous! i swear geto raves about their stuffed shells every time he comes over . . like they’re life changing or something!”

“nothin’s better than your cookin’ so we’ll see. m’ a tough crowd to please.” chuckling, he cut the engine and climbed out to open your door, and you hopped out with a charming little shimmy of your hips, curls bouncing around your shoulders now. toji quite literally had to bite back a groan as images of sweeping you up onto the hood and hiking that dress up around your waist flooded his mind unbidden.

jesus, dude. maybe he felt a little too hot n’ bothered. this was a night to reconnect emotionally, not just physically. ‘keep it together, man,’ he mumbles to himself.

threading your arm through his, you allowed him to lead you to the heavy oak door. “well well, aren’t you just the sweetest.”

toji leaned over to murmur in her ear, voice low and intimate. “like i said . . . a night to remember. and m’ just gettin’ started, lovely.” he felt you shiver and had to quickly resist the urge to press an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot behind you ear — the spot he knew drove you crazy. but he reined himself in, offering you his arm instead. you slanted him an arch look from beneath your lashes as you took his elbow, well aware of the charged energy in the room. “you’re such smooth talker,” you teased. “but m’ callin’ you out - you gotta’ keep deliverin’ now.”

the inside of the restaurant was every bit as quaint and charming as the exterior, all warm golden lighting and rustic decor like something plucked from a cozy little italian village. your table of choice nestled in a babylon themed area, made for discreet intimacy. along with linen napkins and sparkling wine already waiting along with a single garden rose in a low vase.

as toji held out your chair for you, you leaned up to brush a soft kiss to his cheek. “this lovely, t,” you murmured, fingers trailing over the pristine white tablecloth. “really, baby . . . jus’ lovely.”

he hummed, momentarily distracted by the alluring fragrance of your signature perfume mixed with the lingering scent of baked goodies in your hair from a hectic day’s work at the bakery. “you deserve it,” he rumbled once he’d found his voice again. “. . . i know how crazy swamped you been with the kids and workin’ on side projects for the shop. tonight is strictly about you, mama. no responsibilities, no worries. just you n’ me enjoyin’ each other. like we used to do.”

your smile softened at the corners as you regarded him with open adoration. “when did all your charm come back?” you teased gently, though . . that tone was genuine. “feels like we haven’t had a moment alone in ages. hard to remember the last time you wooed me like this.”

“tonight’s special. couldn’t let another moment go by without remindin’ you exactly why you chose to put up with me.”

your expression turned impish once more. “coulda’ fooled me - i seem to recall it was you who was pushin’ lil’ ol’ me away, no?”

he formed his features into his best look of faux offense, tone full of lofty dignity. “can a man not get nervous anymore? you were stunning i was terrified — as megumi would say, your aura was just . . .” beneath the table, you could start to feel him sliding his foot forward to glide his ankle over yours, naughtiness giving him away even before your muffled squeak of surprise. toji just grinned that stupid grin at you innocently, as though not at all aware of the toe he was trailing up the delicate skin of your inner calf, “out of this world, sweetheart.”

you had to clear your throat before replying, voice husky with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “oh shut up. jus’ admit you loved me before you even knew it yet.” but despite the humor, you lashes had lowered invitingly as you let your calves part further, granting him unrestricted access.

his gaze snagged on the glimpse of your skin revealed as his foot inched higher and higher to skim the sensitive crease behind your knee. already, his blood was pounding with renewed interest, awakened by the heady combination of your pheromones and just being within your space. hmph. it was like suddenly the intimate, flickering candles and red wine he'd scoffed at earlier as a cheesy cliche seemed perfectly fitting, matching the frisson of sexual heat enkindling within him.

you spent the first part of dinner treading familiar ground - teasing n’ flirting, punctuated by conversations and easy silences that felt almost novel in your peacefulness these days. there was an ease to it, a bond between you both that couldn’t be so easily broken by the stress of soccer practices, ballet recitals or piles of laundry.

an intimacy beyond the aspects of physical that toji clung to . . . even as his vixen urges stirred elsewhere.

once appetizers had been polished off and the main courses brought out, toji leaned back in his chair and leveled you with a heavy lidded stare. slowly, he scooped up his cloth napkin and tossed it onto the table as though throwing down a gauntlet. your eyebrows rose in polite question even as a smirk tugged at the corners of your lips.

“y’know . .” toji began, voice pitched low and rough like buttered rum. “you look absolutely stunning tonight, yn. i couldn’t be more proud of the woman you are n’ i jus’ uh . .” he pauses for a moment. wow, even after six years you still found a way to steal the words right out of his mouth, “i jus’ love you — you’re the mother of my children, my heart, my everyth - ”

your breath caught audibly, lashes fluttering as you struggled not to squirm under the potent weight of his stare. still, you rallied with a sassy arch of one brow. “if we weren’t already married, i’d say you were attempting at proposing to me right now, toji.”

“aye, m’ tryin’ t’be sentimental here, lady,” toji chuckled, the sound impossibly intimate amidst the hushed ambiance of the cozy trattoria. reaching across the table, he traced a feather-light path along your forearm with the very tips of his fingers, feeling the fine hairs there rise in gooseflesh, “y’know i’d marry you a thousand times over.”

the sleek black car purred through the dim streets, a monotonous swish of the windshield wipers being the only sound breaking the heavy silence within. in the passenger seat, you gazed out the rain streaked window, city lights smearing across your face in streaks of red and gold and neon blue. the night had been magical - champagne and oysters at bambolino’s, after that there was slow dancing cheek to cheek to smoky jazz at the club down the street, and last but not least — chocolate lava cake shared and savored at the tiny candle lit dessert boutique. all the romance and luxury toji knew his beautiful wife deserved.

but now, cocooned together in the warm confines of the car, the mood had shifted into something . . . more carnal. not sure how it couldn’t have become carnal with toji’s eyes constantly flicking away from the road to steal glimpses of you. in the dim glow of the dash, he drank in the way your clingy pink dress embraced every mouthwatering curve you had, the deep v neckline offering a tantalizing view of your collarbones. and oh, the silky chestnut curls tumbled over your bare shoulders, toji’s fingers itched to suken into them, to pull her close and breathe in the familiar sweet vanilla of her shampoo as he cruised.

he inhaled subtly, your delicate floral perfume underlaid with the warm, sleep-rumpled scent of your skin filling his head with sense memories. lazy sunlit mornings tangled in egyptian cotton sheets, your hair spilled across the pillow. sweaty afternoons grappling on the living room rug like lovestruck college kids. languid twilight baths with your slippery curves pressed back against his chest. he shifted in his seat as his blood began to simmer.

as if she could read his increasingly lurid thoughts, yn turned to meet his gaze. in the shadows, her eyes glittered like black diamonds, dark and fathomless, brimming with wicked promises. slowly, deliberately, she dragged her pink tongue across her bottom lip, leaving the glossed flesh glistening temptingly. toji swallowed hard.

suddenly, the air of the car felt suffocating, the rain misted air unbearably thick and hot. toji cranked the ac, but it did little to cool his overheated skin. he stared deadahead at the surging blades, trying to ignore the rising pressure in his groin.

without a word, you lifted a hand from your lap and slid it across the center console. toji sucked in a sharp breath as your palm skated up his thigh to rest just south of dangerous territory. even through the crisp fabric of his tailored slacks, her touch burned like a brand. as your nimble fingers began to trace idle whorls and spirals, you notice toji’s hands flex around the steering wheel.

“you better get us home safe, mr. we have kids to feed,” you purred, your dulcet voice flooding the charged air between them. “wouldn’t wanna’ have an accident now, would we?” your tone was pure filthy innuendo.

toji risked a glance sideways and instantly regretted it. you looked like a temptation, the old school femme fatale, all dangerous curves and scarlet lips and come-hither eyes. he could practically hear the harps and horns of the kill bill sirens blaring in his brain as he dragged his gaze forward again, locking it on the taillights winking mockingly through the rain smeared glass.

it would be so easy to pull the car over, to say fuck it to propriety and yank you into his lap. to ruck that sinful dress up around your waist and lose himself in your pussy until the windows were disgustingly fogged. so easy to let the inferno building in his veins consume you both right there in the goddamn car.

but toji prided himself on his discipline, his ironclad restraint. you couldn’t be a firefighter without grit, without the ability to stay focused and clear headed no matter what temptations beckoned. he knew that all too well. so he kept his ass planted firmly in the leather seat, even as his body screamed for more of his wife’s wicked touch.

even if his cock throbbed persistently against his fly, inflamed and aching.

you, however, seemed to have no such compunctions about maintaining composure. heedless of toji’s grip on the wheel, you unbuckled your seatbelt and twisted in your seat to face him. in a move that nearly short circuited his brain, you drew one endless leg up onto the seat, making the hem of your dress ride up to reveal the lacy edge of a sheer white thigh high.

toji’s mouth went dust dry. “what’re you doin’?”

“gettin’ comfortable,” you replied airly, but the devilish quirk of your painted lips gave away the game. slowly, you trailed a fingertip along the inside of your thigh, the back of your hand just barely grazing the tent in toji’s slacks as you did so — making him hiss out a breath between his teeth.

“quit playin’ wit’ me, yeah?”

you hummed, unconcerned, and continued her leisurely exploration, tracing idle patterns on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. “i’d rather you play with somethin’ else — i mean, you said it yourself.”

toji’s foot pressed down on the accelerator as if by it’s own volition, the car surging forward through the fuzzy soft darkness. toji's heart beat in time, a primal drum urging him to get the fuck home, where he could strip his vixen of a wife bare and remind you where teasin’ got you.

remind you how good he could make you burn.

your throaty chuckle broke him from his reverie. he glanced over to see you still caressing your own thighs, a wry twist to your lips. “you’re thinkin’ about fuckin’ me, aren’t you?” you mused casually, as if remarking on the weather. “how bad you wanna’ pull this car over, bend me over the hood n’ fuck me like i know you want to.”

liquid heat rolled down toji’s spine to pool in his groin, his cock jerking ravenously in the confines of his straining zipper. “goddammit,” he bit out, knuckles gone bloodless on the steering wheel.

you bit your lip on a smirk, shaky satisfaction in your exhale. “c’mon, daddy,” you coaxed, voice husky and sex-soaked. “i can feel you thinkin’ about it . . . those big hands spreading me open jus’ f’you?”

toji couldn't choke back his groan, pressure building to a rolling boil in his veins. his whole world narrowed down to the flex of his thighs, the strain of keeping the car on the road, and the siren song of your body, your scent, your dirty fuckin’ mouth.

“i’ve been so wet all night, t . .” you continued blithely, as if remarking on the weather. “since the second you walked in from work.” you reached over to smooth a proprietary hand along his thigh, thumb still skating dangerously close to his crotch. “i jus’ wanted to drop to my knees and worship you with my mouth right then n’ there.”

toji nearly swallowed his tongue, vivid images of your plush lips stretching around his cock flooding his brain. “c’mon, baby . .”

“ — but i was such a good girl,” you singsonged. “i was patient. i kept my hands to myself through dinner, even though all i could think about was how good you’d feel inside me.” your fingers creep higher to graze his zipper, “how deep i could take this big dick in my pretty little cunt.”

“don’t make me stop this car n’ —“

“pull over,” you murmured, voice molten and dark with promise. “anywhere. i don’t give a fuck - jus’ fuck me, toji. please . . s’ been too fuckin’ long.”

your words shot through him like an electric charge, heat searing down his spine to pool gravid and pulsing in his groin. “shit’,” he bit out, dizzy, nearly delirious with the force of his want. “ well, i know better than to argue with you. go ahead n’ tell me where, baby.”

“over there,” you pointed through the smeared windshield at an empty parking lot on the right, a black gulf set back from the glistening street. “that lot. pull in.” nearly shaking with the effort of holding himself in check, toji wrenched the wheel to the right, tires juddering over wet asphalt as he whipped into the vacant lot. the moment he threw the car into park, you were scrambling into his lap, sinuous as a snake, that tight dress rucking up around your hips completely now.

toji groaned gutturally as the heat of you settled over him, the damp crotch of your panties grinding right against his aching cock. you were like a furnace through the thin satin, searing him, branding him. he bucked helplessly under the pressure, too far gone for finesse.

“shit,” panted against the shell of his ear, nipping at the sensitive skin. your little hands scrabbling at his belt, desperate, graceless. “wan’ you s’bad. been drippin’ — it hurts, daddy . .”

toji made a wounded sound as you finally freed his straining erection, wrapping slim fingers around the thick root and pumping once, slowly. you let out a broken moan at the heavy heat of him pulsing in your grip, the way he jerked and kicked against the palm, already leaking from the flushed tip.

“look at you,” you purred, running a thumb through the slippery bead of precum. you brought the digit to your mouth, sucking it clean with a low hum that vibrated straight through him. “mm, so fuckin’ hard f’me.” toji’s hands flew to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight, a drowning man clutching a lifeline. the flimsy lace of your panties was no barrier - he ripped them aside, baring the slick folds of your cunt to the humid air. need pounded behind his eyes, turned his blood to quicksilver, his bones to molten steel.

“i missed you, mama,” he rasped, throat tight, voice scraped raw. “missed you so much.” his calloused hands roam your tummy, waist, and then chest — stopping when his palms grope the full plumpness of your titties, “awe baby . . they’re so heavy. have they gotten bigger?” the casual rubbing is soon interrupted when he pulls them out from their comfortable position in your sundress, your breasts flopping out in the prettiest way.

nipples hard n’ ready to just be absolutely tended to.

“i think so,” you reply, running your hands up and down his chest, “ever since i had rose . . they’ve gotten more n’ more swollen.” it was true. that girl had been your most painful birth ever — and keep in mind, this was coming from a mother of four. your back ached, you felt uncomfortable everywhere, and your tits well . . . let’s just say it felt like carrying around bags of sand attached to your sore chest.

but you’d do it again. anything for your sweet baby girl.

“do they hurt?”

“a little bit,” and on your word, toji leans forward, taking one of your exposed nipples into his mouth as he teased the other with his fingers. you could only moan as he sucked softly, almost as if he were trying to pry somethin’ out of em’, “aah — mmph! s’ sensitive, daddy . . so sensitive.”

with a needy cry, you wasted to time to pull your panties to the side and tap the tip of him against your slit, “put it in, t . . please,” you don’t even wait for his approval to notch the broad head of his cock against your opening as he worked. he didn’t mind - not one bit. if anything, he was more eager than you. you then wrap around him, gently sinking down, sheathing him in tight, and clinging on. his head cracked back against the headrest after letting go of your nipple with a pop! - fireworks exploding behind his eyes as your silky walls enveloped him, gripped him, fluttered sweetly around his aching length like you’d been waiting for his return.

“oh my god,” you whimpered, lip caught harshly between your teeth. you looked nearly pained, brow pinched, lashes fluttering as you fought to adjust to the invasion. after all, it’s been a while. “i missed you stretchin’ me out, daddy . . missed y’re dick s-so much.”

toji panted shallowly through his nose, every tendon in his body pulled bowstring tight as he fought the feral urge to surge up into you, to seize and take and claim. his fingers flexed convulsively on your hips, blunt nails biting into the plump flesh of your ass.

“i know, i know. i feel you mama. m’ so sorry, daddy’s been neglectin’ this pussy, huh? keep makin’ yourself f-feel good,” he encouraged gutturally, thumbs sweeping over the delicate skin of her inner thighs, smearing her arousal into the creases. “mm, tryin’ to take it all i see . . always so eager to make me proud, ain’t ya’?”

with a keening mewl as a reply, you began to move, rocking shallowly, finding a rhythm. your hands braced on his broad shoulders, using the leverage to grind down, to swivel your hips in maddening figure eights. pleasure sparkled up toji’s spine, gathered in his heavy balls, pulling them up tight and throbbing against his body.

“s-shit, yeah,” he hissed, head swimming, drowning in sensation. “that pussy’s fuckin’ good, yn — always so fuckin’ good. ride that dick jus’ like that.”

you made a desperate sound, head lolling on your neck, lush mouth falling open. each drag of your warm walls had his nerve endings sparking, a livewire of ecstasy. he could feel every clench, every ripple of your ass around him, could feel you growing wetter, slicker, easing the way for faster, harder thrusts.

soon enough you were bouncing feverishly in his lap, shameless, transported. your nails bit into his shoulders through his shirt as you slammed yourself down, the wet smack of sticky flesh and her breathless cries fogging the windows. each downstroke punched the breath from his lungs, until he was dizzy with it, drunk on the feel of you, the sweat and sex musk and some dark energy radiating off of you.

“c’mon,” he growled, palming your ass, spreading you open lewdly so he could watch himself disappear into your gleaming folds, over n’ over, creamy n’ noisy. “gonna’ nut on this dick, hm? gonna’ soak daddy with this greedy lil’ cunt? my greedy fuckin’ cunt — all mine, isn’t it? say that shit.”

“y-yess, s’ all yours, d-daddy,” you panted, back arching sharply as his pelvis pressed just right against your swollen clit. that and the feeling of his hardened head nuzzling against your gummy cervix was just enough to — “m’ close . . m’ so close, baby!” he could feel you starting to tighten, starting to talk and pulse around his hammering cock. with a choked off curse, he gripped the globes of your ass and slammed you down, grinding his hips in deep, filthy circles that had your voice breaking on a sob.

“cum on that dick,” he commanded, holding her steady even as she thrashed and writhed, impaled to the root on his steel-hard length. “give it to daddy — m-make a mess on me, nasty fuckin’ slut.”

he punctuated the words with one brutal thrust, and you had no choice but to cum with a ragged wail, clenching down on him so tight he lost his vision. your cunt rippled and gushed, rhythmic waves gracefully and sloppily milking his pulsing cock as ecstasy whited out behind your eyes.

“fuck, fuck, baby, i can’t — m’ bout to cum, m’ cummin’ - aw fuck!” he choked out, and then his own orgasm was crashing through him, a tidal wave of rapture searing through his veins. he spurted long and hard, painting your trembling walls with scorching ropes of cum that had you shuddering through the aftershocks.

for long moments they stayed locked together, panting into the thick air, pulses gradually slowing. finally you shifted with a shuddery exhale, and toji groaned low in his chest as he slipped free of you in a hot gush. she collapsed bonelessly against his chest, sweat cooling on your skin, looking thoroughly debauched.

toji caught your face between his palms, tipped it up to meet her blissed-out gaze. “holy fuck i love you,” he rasped, thumbs sweeping over your tear stained cheeks, “so fuckin’ much, man - fuck.”

“me too . . l-love you too, babe.” you finished, voice a satisfied husk. a slow grin spread over your face, catlike and smug. “i can’t believe you fucked me in a parking lot.”

“you didn’t give me much choice,” he growled playfully, nipping at your jaw once, twice, three times. “my lil’ cum bunny jus’ couldn’t wait till’ we got home.”

you shivered, squirming against the twitch of renewed interest between his legs. “guess we better head back then,” you murmured. “round two in our nice comfy bed sounds pretty perfect right about now.”

toji made a low sound of agreement, already envisioning peeling her out of that sinful dress and worshipping every inch of her properly. “i can make a thirty minute drive a fifteen — that work for you?”

“y’know you didn’t have to ask that.” you clambered off his lap and they hastily rearranged your clothing, giggling like you were being caught by some mall cop patrolling the area. and then, toji reversed, pulled back onto the glistening streets, one hand resting possessively high on your thigh as the lights of the city streaked by.

soon you were pulling into your familiar driveway. toji killed the engine and dashed around to open your door, ever the gentleman as usual even after tiring you and himself out so thoroughly. hand in hand, giddy and eager, you made you way up the front walk, your heels clicking on the wet concrete.

the door swung open on a scene of perfect domestic tranquility. there on the oversized couch lay satoru, sprawled out and snoring softly, the little ones curled up safe and sound on his chest. the sight filling toji’s heart with indescribable warmth.

gingerly, you both crept closer, not wanting to wake your peaceful babies. toji gazed down at their somber faces, so innocent in sleep, and felt his throat tighten with emotion. you then settled against his side and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

“we made some damn cute kids,” you whispered with a contented sigh.

“absolutely we did,” toji agreed gruffly. he turned and pressed a kiss to your hair, soft and sweet. “i love our little family so much. and you . . i say it all the time, but god, i love you more than anything, yn. i wouldn’t have them without you.”

you tilted your face up to his, eyes liquid and luminous in the low light. “take me to bed n’ show me just how much you love me, lieutenant,” you murmured against his lips.

grinning, toji swept her into a bridal carry, careful not to jostle satoru and the kids. “roger that,” he whispered back playfully. “let’s go complete operation ‘welcome home.’”

and with that, he carried his gorgeous, giggling wife down the hall to their bedroom, ready to spend the rest of the night making good on the promise that had been building between them all evening long — a promise of passion, devotion, and a love that could set the whole world on fire.

[faeriekit]

43rd Annual Gotham Academy Bake Sale

dp x dc | FosterDad!Frostbite

❄ Now available to own on video and ao3 ❄

I promised @tourettesdog a snippet of More Yetis™ ages ago and I finally finished lol

❄*❄*❄

Bruce looked up.

And up. 

...And up. 

The— parent?— glanced down at him with a fanged smile. Not— not meanly. Just fanged. As in, he had fangs. 

And thick, puffy fur. And glacial blue horns. And a soft, muzzle-esqe face, and an equally blue prosthetic arm, with what looked like his original bone structure underneath it. 

What a sight at the PTA bake sale. Bruce huffed lightly.

(Remarkably, the puff of air came out as cold steam. Huh.)

“Good afternoon,” the parent, presumably, greeted him, his voice a low rumble. “I’ve been told that the purpose of this event is to raise money for the school, so there are baked good available for purchase. Please tell me if you are interested in any of the selection.” 

Bruce watched the giant, furry parent carefully set out a crocheted blanket to serve as a tablecloth on the provided folding table, dotted the space with carefully organize tupperwares and displayed, and sanitized his— claws— before setting out little treats on round wooden trays. A stack of napkins completed the setup. 

It was a good first-time setup. Downright exotic, even, considering the setting of Gotham Academy. It had a homey, home-grown feeling that was entirely anathema to the cultivated air of the usual attending crowd. 

It was nice, though. Bruce took a picture of the table for his public instagram. 

Usually Bruce and Alfred would man a table for the younger kids, but Damian was still attending the lower school, and Duke had been opted out of participating due to…prior circumstances…which left Bruce to be an attendee rather than a fundraiser. It was kind of nice. He got to try new foods. Check things out. Meet a giant yeti. 

“They look good,” Bruce complimented, because they did. They didn’t exactly look vegan, so Damian couldn’t try one, but they did look good. “What’s this one? On the bun?” 

The giant…whatever he was daintily got himself into a folding chair. From his side-satchel came a paperback copy of Elin Hilderbrand’s Summer of ‘69. “Salmon patties on potato buns. My charge assures me that they’re perfectly edible, although we did have to shop around for a suitable vehicle with which they could be eaten.”

Alright, so the guardian had missed the boat on exactly what bake sales were supposed to consist of. So what? The food sounded good, smelled good— and for four dollars, that was a good deal. 

“Keep the change.”

They tasted good, too. “Hey," Bruce exclaimed, "This is pretty grand!”

The yeti’s eyes crinkled around the edges. The muzzle couldn’t exactly replicate a human smile, but Bruce had the distinct impression that this was the equivalent expression. “Thank you. Daniel told me that it was overkill to catch my own fish for the raising of funds, but I always prefer the taste of a fresh catch.” 

With those fangs, Bruce would believe it. He took another bite of what was probably a salmon burger. “Nothing beats fresh-from-the-sea. When I lived in London for a few months, I was very spoiled by the seafood selection.” 

The yeti’s ears swiveled upright in interest. “Oh? I will say, living in Gotham, there is a lack of interesting seafood. The shellfish grows to be as large as my arm in my home territory.” 

Well, that didn’t lower the location down to anywhere in particular. The arctic? The deep ocean? Some vast, unknown world? “Sure sounds more interesting, that’s for sure. Hey, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new to the school?” 

The being kindly answered his nosy-enough question. “I have taken temporary leave of my people to care for my charge. As he is mostly human, his elder sister and I came to the decision that the human plane was a better locale for him to grow up in. Gotham city simply has more volatile energy floating around.” 

Bruce’s eyebrows rose up over the rims of his sunglasses. Gotham was their first choice to raise a child in? A not-completely-human child to boot? “You sure about that?” he asked, just to be clear. “It’s not so safe here. We’ve got a guy who blows up buildings for fun. I think we’ve had the most toxic gas leaks…ever, really. I love the place, I grew up here, but man do we have problems!” 

“Hm,” the yeti hummed. “We were concerned about that. Daniel spent the first few nights beating up pickpockets, however, so I foresee that he will likely enjoy the challenge.”

As someone who beats up pickpockets, Bruce had no reliable say on the matter. He took another bite of his salmon patty. He made a note of the issue nevertheless. If there was going to be a new, half-human vigilante in his home territory, that ought to be something he stays abreast of.

“Hey! B! Over here!”

Bruce spotted Duke’s hand a head above the crowd. He waved back; his newest foster edged through the crowd of wealthy parents and their nepo-baby children to make his way over, a cupcake in his hand. “Duke! Find anything good?”

“Yeah!” Duke confirmed cheerfully, raising the cupcake in his hand. He continued his approach. “They had tamarind ones at the stand Mrs. Cheng is running! I got you one just in case you wanted to try it. They were almost out, and—“

Duke paused beside Bruce. And looked up.

And up.

...And up.

Bruce didn’t bother to hide his smile. “I’m getting to know some of the other parents here. Hey, what’re your thoughts on salmon?”

“It’s,” Duke started, thoroughly distracted by the parent’s height, “Good. Um. Hi?”

The gigantic being (he must be, what, nine feet? And balancing on that horrid folding chair the PTA shoves out every year?) roved a yellow eye down to his foster son.

“It’s very nice to meet you, young one,” the parent rumbled, cheery as anything. “My name is Frostbite. You may know my charge, Daniel. He is in his junior year.”

“Danny? Danny Fenton?”

Bruce finished off his burger with a bite. Well, there was curious tone. “Do you know him, Duke?” he asked. The tone wasn’t quite warning, but the edge was to be found in his phrasing.

Duke winced. “Yeah, we…uh. We might have gotten into a fight on his first day. And his second week. …And…last week.”

Bruce. Blinked.

“…And maybe a few hours ago. But to be fair, he has a really punchable face—“

This sounded more like Dick and Jason in their first weeks at Gotham Academy rather than Duke, who was generally better-mannered than most of his brood. (Bruce tended to chalk it up to the effect of being raised largely by loving, attentive parents.)

“But. Um.” Duke shuffled a little closer to Bruce, and a little farther away from the tallest parent to ever grace the pristine lawn of Gotham Academy. “He’s…you know. He’s fine. Usually.”

Thank goodness Alfred was across the way with Damian. He would have disapproved highly of the both of them for this slip.

Still, the gigantic creature only…huffed. Bruce would dare call it a chuckle, even. He popped a barely punctured bookmark into his novel, and gently set it to the side. “My apologies, young one; fighting is a favored form of socialization in our culture. His interest in you is likely genuinely meant, if…rough. Tell myself or his sibling if it becomes unbearable, and he’ll calm down.”

Duke’s lips twisted. “No, it’s not— It’s. Fine? I guess? We like blow off steam and stuff. When I sprained my wrist, he just punched my other arm and bought me ice cream.”

Bruce wanted to judge this kid and whatever parenting style this yeti was putting this kid through. He wanted to pass judgement so badly. But this also sounded exactly like something one of his own kids would do with someone they were friends with.

So.

So he bought a second salmon burger, took an offered bite of Duke’s tamarind cupcake (very generous), and tried to remember everything he could about his brief foray into romance novels. “Say, have you ever read any John Grisham? It’s not quite the same genre, but I’m more of a fan of thrillers myself…”

Honestly, the surreal part was that nothing untoward happened for the entire bake sale. Bruce would happily do this again next year.

[seasons-of-death]

rafe and kook!reader that hate each other

warnings: smut, MDNI! i got this idea when i hadn't slept for like 48 hours but then when i finally got some sleep a few days ago i decided to write it !!! i just felt like i write a lot of "meek" readers so i didn't wanna do the same thing over and over lmao i hope you enjoy

you didn't know why you always had to come whenever your parents always had to drag you and your brother along when they visited the camerons. it's not like when you were a kid who needed to be babysat to make sure you didn't do anything wrong, but your mother wouldn't stop hassling you about it, saying how it would be 'so rude' of you to not show up, and it'd seem like you hated them. only problem was, you did.

well, pretty much just rafe. you had gotten along with sarah pretty well, but apparently she wouldn't be present. despite being the same age and both being from figure 8, you and rafe were like polar opposites. you were more into academics, and he was more into playing sports and getting fucked up with his friends. so, you never got along. but your families had been friends even before your birth, due to your respective fathers being in business together. so you had to pretend to be civil.

year by year, it went from hitting and kicking each other because someone took the other's toy, to when you started at the same middle school when he'd steal your books from your locker, to whenever you'd start dating someone in high school, they'd mysteriously end up breaking up with you the next week, and every time you asked why, you only heard one name.

rafe.

and said boy was standing in front of you now, next to his family, his arms crossed in front of his chest, with that same smug grin on his face you had last seen when you'd left for college. and you knew, that even though you were both older, he hadn't changed one bit, and it made you worry what kind of disaster tonight would bring, and if one of you just finally strangled the other to death.

after your parents had changed initial pleasantries, you all went into the dining room, and as if it had been some kind of cosmic joke, you had ended up sitting next to rafe. and so, while the people around you were chatting and eating, you sat there, occasionally taking sips out of the glass of wine and bites of your food, until you heard someone call your name.

"hmm?" you asked, looking up with a small smile.

"how's college been?" rose cameron asked, and it seemed like every eye was on you now. you swallowed the bite you were eating as you considered your answer and cleared your throat.

"it's been pretty good. difficult, and not a lot of sleep, but i seem to fit in. i really like the campus and my professors, and since i live in an apartment close to the campus i get there easily."

"your parents are always talking about how proud they are of you," ward cameron mentioned, "they're always saying how great it is that not only did you get into an ivy league school, but that you're also staying on top of your studies. must be nice to get a summer break, though."

as you were about to answer, you couldn't help but notice that the boy sitting next to you had stiffened, his jaw clenched tightly, and a part of you couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of self-satisfaction over the fact that your accomplishments seemed to be getting to him despite him always making fun of you for your commitment to your studies.

"well, the point of college is to study, even though i do try to let loose every now and then." you let out a small chuckle, taking a quick sip of wine before you continued, "and it's nice, yeah, but i also do miss school."

at that, you could heard a snort from next to you, and you turned to look at rafe with a feigned friendly smile, the look in your eyes basically egging him to tell you what his snort was caused by, "something you wanna say?"

at your words, it felt like the entire dining room went quiet, and for the first time the whole evening, rafe looked straight into your eyes, his piercing blue eyes cold as steel, even though the corners of his lips were uplifted just a tiny bit that if you hadn't sat next to him you wouldn't have even noticed it. he let out a small, demeaning chuckle.

"it's just... who would miss school?"

"i do. i just said i do, didn't i?"

"like... don't get me wrong, but don't you have any other life? just like in high school, is all you do just... study? that's really sad, you know. you should really do something fun. have you even tried to go out, or do you just coop up in the library because you think it's some kind of a replacement for people who give a fuck about you?"

"rafe-" ward was trying to stop his son from speaking, but before he could, you simply let out a small laugh.

"as opposed to what? staying on the same island i've lived on my whole life, doing nothing but living off my family's money, play golf and hang out with my friends until i eventually take over my dad's business and one day get married and have 2.5 kids who end up doing the same. sure, i could probably just start working for my dad, but the thing is i don't want to." with every word you say, the blood from his face is drained slowly, while you just smile at him, "i could be just like any other rich kid living off their parents, but i'm actually going to make something of myself instead."

after you finish speaking, the room is so quiet that if a pin dropped, it would sound like an anvil, the two of you staring at each other, while everyone's eyes darted from you to rafe, and back again like you were a tennis match, until you simply turned your head away from him, the boy still staring at you, while you cleared my throat. "rose, the food is really good." you said with a friendly smile before bringing the glass of wine to your lips.

eventually, the chatter started back up again, and the dinner went on, but still, every now and then, you could feel rafe glaring at you resentingly.

you were making your way through the halls of tannyhill, your phone in hand as you were texting, but when you finally found the bathroom, you pulled the door open, only to be faced with something you hadn't expected.

rafe was standing there, his head thrown back, and when you looked to the counter, you saw his credit card, a little pouch, and two white lines, in rafe's hand, a rolled up one-hundred dollar bill, and when you let out a quiet chuckle, he finally noticed your presence, and you could see the alarm bells ringing in his brain.

"damn, you've moved to coke? last i saw you, you were just into weed or occasionally molly, but this? shit, well, i shouldn't be surprised, i mean-"

before you could finish your sentence, rafe's hand was gripping your arm tightly, and the boy pulled you into the bathroom, locking the door behind him before slamming you against it, the door handle digging into your side, the blonde's pupils dilated to all hell, remnants of white powder under his nose.

"the fuck do you think you're doing?" you stared up at him while trying to push him away, but his muscular arm pressed against your chest, holding you against the door.

"you're a fucking bitch, you know that?"

"wow, that's really original cameron. what is this, fifth grade? you're pathetic."

"don't fucking talk to me like that," he said, his jaw clenched, his head leaning down to look at you. "you've always been such a fucking pain in my ass."

"i have been a pain in your ass? that's rich." you finally managed to push him off you, the boy stumbling slightly back due, "you've done nothing but made my life a living hell. when we were kids, when we were teens," you started walking closer to him, "even tonight, who was the first one to fucking snort at my comment and start talking about sad my life is, when in reality you're the one who's still acting like a teenager."

"it really seemed to hit a nerve. what's wrong, you still don't have friends, just like you didn't back in high school? let me tell you why that is; you act like you're so much better and smarter than everyone. sure, i might act like i'm better than some people, but you act like you're a fucking god. and that's why no one can stand you."

the two of you now stood in the middle of the bathroom, the bathroom filled with the noise of you both breathing erratically from all the insults you'd thrown, rafe glaring down at you, his gaze filled with ice, yours filled with fire, both of your words poisonous and knives meant to cut deep.

then rafe's lips were on yours, your arms around his neck, the kiss full of hunger, of craving, the both of you trying to consume one another. it was just like any another fight between you, but without any words, just with your lips.

rafe pushed you against the bathroom wall, his lips slowly trailing down your jaw and your neck while you ground your body against his, his erection pressing against your lower stomach, one of his hands on your neck, while the other was lifting the hem of your dress, your hands undoing his belt.

"i still fucking hate you..." you breathed out, tugging at his hair while rafe simply chuckled against the your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin, a gasp leaving your lips and you dug your nails into the back of his neck to get back at him, the boy letting out a groan before he continued sucking and kissing on your neck with his warm lips as you moved your hands down to undo his pants and letting them fall to the ground.

your head felt like it was in the clouds when his hands touched the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding under it, and when you felt his fingers travel deeper, you couldn't help but gasp, feeling rafe run two of his fingers over your folds, collecting some of your arousal onto his fingers, his lips detaching themselves from your neck. "you hate me but you're this fucking wet, huh?"

"you wanna play that game?" you chuckle, palming his erection through his boxers, rafe letting out a groan as you freed his erection from his boxers, spitting into your hand before you were stroking up and down on his cock, the red tip of his length already leaking precum, the boy letting out ragged breaths, unable to keep kissing you from the pleasure you were giving him.

his fingers were working your clit, your back arching against the wall, your head swimming as you continued stroking him, rafe brought his lips back to yours, your lips lazily and messily pressing against one another, both of you two too blissed out by the pleasure you were giving one another to even care.

when he pulled away from the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling together as your hands worked in tandem, and it felt like it was the first thing you two didn't hate about each other, rafe's breath hitching with every stroke of his cock, a small whimper leaving your lips every time he touched your clit just right.

you closed your eyes, as you felt the heat building in your abdomen, you bit down on your lip, and you knew that rafe was just as close to coming from the way he picked his own pace up on your clit and how his breathing got more and more ragged.

and finally, when you felt the feeling in your abdomen just... stop, and your orgasm washed over you in a rapid wave, you heard rafe let out a glorious noise that was between a whine and a groan. you could feel cum rushing out of his cock as you kept stroking him, his fingers still working on your clit as the two of you let the other one ride out their orgasms.

your breathing was ragged and you were both blissed out when you finally took your hands off each other, still coming down from your orgasm, but when you finally did...

"fuck." you clamored, pushing rafe off you as you pulled your dress back down and made your way to the sink, washing your hands, while rafe was also getting dressed. you took a few moments to fix your makeup and hair, before turning to him, rafe looking at you in a way that didn't let you know what he was thinking, as usual. "this never happened."

and before he could even respond, you were out of the door.

[eddiesxangel]

WILDFLOWER| Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Pop!Princess reader

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

WC 37.2k

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh my god, did he asked you out?

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A few minutes later you receive a text

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

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

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

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

Eddie: Great.

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

Angel: Hi handsome 🥰

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

Shit, this is not what you wanted.

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She going to be my mom”

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

*scroll*

“Corroded Coffin’s front man-”

*scroll*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who was the girl Eddie?” you question.

“What girl?”

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

“OH, that’s just Terra” He confirms

“Who’s Terra?” you question.

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

His words were helping you settle down about everything.

“I believe you Eddie, Sweet dreams”

“Sweet dreams Angel”

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Holy shit” he screamed with joy spinning you around

“Surprise,” you gave him a small peck.

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

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

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

“Hi, Angel!” You hear Jeff greet you.

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

“Fuck yea!” Felix cheered.

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

“You guys knew?” Eddie asks

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Sir! Feels so good,” You cry.

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

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

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

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

“Yes! Baby, yes!” You praise.

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

“Baby, I’m so close.” you wine

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

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

“Baby more please” You whimpered.

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

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

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

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

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

_

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She gives you a tempered smile

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The leather squeaked beneath you as he adjusts your bodies.

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

“Yes, Sir,” you nod your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, that handsome?”

“You have the perfect lips for kissing”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh my god” you gasped as arousal shot through you.

“Anyone ever plays with this little hole” Eddie kissed you again before a strong hand came down on your ass cheek, making you moan.

“No, Sir” you sucked in a breath.

“What a shame, she’s real pretty” he circled a wet finger around your asshole and your pussy cliched around nothing.

“Would you like me to continue?” He whispered in your ear.

“I did tell you to do whatever you want to me,” you countered back.

“But do you want it?” Eddie grabbed your chin and made you look up as he hovered behind you.

“Yes!” You cry

“Yes. What?” He gritted through his teeth because you should know better.

“Yes, sir, play with my asshole.”

“God, I love when you talk dirty” Eddie slid down your body and licked a long wet strip from your clit to your second hole. A breathy sound of pleasure rips from your lungs, one so loud you even startled yourself. “That's it, baby, let me hear you.” Eddie lapped and circled you so good your eyes were rolling into the back of your head. You never thought you would be into this, but it was Eddie; he made you feel safe, and you liked it when he showed you new things in the bedroom.

His tongue glided across and around your tight hole, as his thick fingers penetrated your pussy. “Doing alright, sweetheart?” He checked in, but you were too zoned out, lost in your own pleasure, you didn’t hear him. Moan after moan left your mouth, not even able to form words.

“I’ll take that as a yes” He smirked before he dove back in, this time his tongue broke its way through your tight walls. Before you knew it, you were coming. The combination of Eddie's fingers and tongue fucking you made your walls tighten, and a roar came from your lungs. “That's it, Princess.” Eddie removed his wet fingers covered with your spend and circled them around your other hole.

“Hollyshit” you breathed out.

“I’m not finished with you yet.” Eddie pulled you back by your hair, sticking his tongue in your mouth. By far the filthiest thing he’s ever done to you, but you were already begging him to do it again. “Please, please, give it to me.” he drops your head from his hand, and your face softly falls onto the cushion. “Such a filthily girl. You want me to split open your pussy with my cock while I finger fuck your ass?” He spoke while taking off the rest of his clothing.

“Please,” you begged.

“My girl is greedy, but what my girl wants, she gets” You felt the couch shift as he knelt down to align himself with your needy pussy. He spreads your lips to get a full view of himself slowly entering your wet hole.

Eddie pumped into you slowly, picking up the pace with each stroke. He spread your ass cheeks open to expose your two holes. You hear him spit as hot saliva cascades down your hole.

“You sure you want this sweetheart?” He grazed his finger over your hole, getting it ready for him. “God! Yes, Eddie! Please!” His cock was hitting your G spot perfectly; with each stroke, you could feel the hot metal of his piercing rubbing your inner walls but needed something more to get you to the edge.

Eddie let it slide that you didn’t call him Sir because he was too damn excited that you let him play with your ass. “Fuck yea, Princess.” He slips his wet thumb into your puckered hole. It surprisingly felt good. Honestly, you were prepared for it to hurt, but the added pressure made your head spin.

“Who does this ass being too?” He gritted, slapping his hips into you, his cock so deep inside that you see stars. If you turned your head to look over your shoulder, you would have seen Eddie’s body glow with sweat, flushed face and a look in his eye that would’ve convinced you he was so madly in love with you. But you never did, too consumed by how Eddie made you feel. The way he fed you the pleasure you always craved, the pleasure you always needed but never received until now.

More moans filled the room, unable to answer. All of your senses were on overdrive. “Huh, baby girl? I didn’t quite hear you?” he slowed down, making you feel every inch of him leave your body and then slammed back into you. “You! Oh god, my body is yours!” You bury your face into the couch cushion. “That's right, Little One, you’re mine.” Eddie pulls you back up with one strong arm and fixes your body to parallel his.

“But if you’re mine. Then I am yours. Tell me I’m yours,” he panted.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re all mine, mine, mine, mine,” you chant your mantra until your walls spasm around his cock, your orgasm cascading through your whole body, your limbs struggle to hold you up as you try to hold yourself up. Eddie continues to thrust into your throbbing cunt until he is so close he pulls out again, being reckless and “forgetting” to put on a condom. He pulls out, and you hear the lewd sound of wet skin smacking as pumped his load on your ass. You feel the hot streams of cum coat your skin.

“Shit, that’s a pretty picture. Don’t you dare move” Eddie grabs his phone off the table and snaps a picture of you with your ass in the air, fucked out of your mind with his cum running down your crack.

“This is going to hold me over for a long time” Eddie laughs

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The car pulled up to a villa right on the edge of the water. You could hear the crystal blue sea water splashing the rocky coastal line. You could smell the salt in the air, the sea breeze was cool on your skin, and the hot sun beamed down in the cloudless sky. The concrete building was painted a terracotta that was slowly failing but only added to the vintage flair.

“Welcome home, Baby” Eddie kissed the top of your head and led you inside.

The large wooden door creaked open, and you entered the most beautiful home you’ve ever seen. “This house is yours?” You asked, “No baby, ours,” he corrects. “Not what I meant, Eddie; I meant you own this place?” You reiterated. “Yes, Angel.” he pulled you in closer, put your bags down and kissed you.

You didn’t even get a chance to look around before you and Eddie jump one another’s bones again… On the sofa, the porch daybed, the kitchen counter, the shower, and the bedroom. It was a miracle you convinced Eddie to get out of bed and show you around. Wrapped up in the crisp sheets, which remained black even in this home with this distinctly Italian decor.

You reminded him he promised to take you to that Café on your first date. “Eddie, you promised me the best pastry in the whole world, we have been here 34 hours, and I still haven’t experienced it” you pout.

Eddie’s propped up on an elbow, giving you a look.

“What?” You ask innocently.

“Just looking at you makes me so horny” Eddie leans into you, pushing you into the plush pillows that adorn the bed, he was an addict, and you were the fix, the only one that could cure his hunger.

Eventually, you had gotten Eddie out of bed and into the Italian streets. Your days were filled with walking hand in hand. He took you to the Café first. They did, in fact, have the best croissant you had ever tasted and the best Caffe latte you ever had. Eddie and you strolled through every shop you said you wanted to go into, buying a bunch of trinkets and gelato. He took you to the beach the next day, and the day after that, you toured around the city some more; he booked a cooking class where you were taught how to make homemade pasta. The next day, you went on a winery tour. There was so much to discover and so much history to see; the week was jam-packed with things to do, and you never felt so free. Being here with Eddie in another country where no paparazzi was hounding you every moment of every day. You kept your socials quiet, not wanting to tell anyone where you were. Having it just be you and Eddie was a dream. Not that you didn’t miss Vi, but the break was needed.

_

You only had 2 days left of your trip. Tonight, Eddie cooked for you. It was one of the most romantic evenings you two shared. He had put out candles on the dining room table, had music on in the background, and asked you to dance with him on the balcony under the stars, and now you were standing in a moonlit room in front of a floor-length mirror, naked.

Still fully clothed, Eddie walked up behind you, and his hand slowly grazed your shoulder, up across your collarbone, and then he teasingly wrapped one finger at a time around your throat. He jerks your head to the side so he can speak to you. You can feel his hot breath on your ear as he says, “Look at you. America, Sweetheart, getting all wet and sticky just for me. Are you going to let me touch you, Princess? fuck that sweet little cunt of yours?” You desperately try and nod your head, but Eddie’s grip is firm. “Use your words,” he growls in your ear.

“Yes Sir” you sighed.

“God, no one makes me as horny as you do,” he growls in your ear.

Eddie leans closer, his other hand not on your throat, wraps around your waist, pulling you into him as he pushes his stiff cock into your lower back. He moves in to kiss you, and goosebumps appear all over your body as his lips connect to the supple skin of your neck. It’s more gentle than what you're expecting. His hand slides down from your waist, leaving your throat to cup your breast.

“Look at yourself while I touch you,” Eddie whispers. You don’t dare disobey his orders tonight; something about tonight is different: you want to be good for him no matter what. He has been so good to you. All you want is to be that for him in return. So you turn your head and look at where his fingers connect with your skin. His calloused tips are rough on your breast's soft, delicate skin. The pads of his fingers cascade through your wet folds, and you try so hard for your knees not to buckle at the sight you’re witnessing.

“That’s my pretty girl. You’re so good to me.” He slowly circled your clit as you continued to watch. You tried so hard to not fall to your knees. Your hands find his muscular thighs, and you drip onto them for dear life. You let out a breathy moan as Eddie sucked on your neck, hitting that sweet spot he is good at locating on the first try. You finally broke and turned so you could be face to face. You needed to kiss him like you needed air to breathe.

Eddie grabbed onto your bare ass and hoisted you up. You wrapped your legs around his thick torso, and he walked the two of you over to the bed as you left a trail of kisses down his neck.

Eddie ever so gently laid you down on the bed like you were made of glass. You watched him from the bed as he stripped down into nothing, missing his touch the entire time he was away. “Baby I need you,” reach out for him.

“I know Angel, I’m right here. I gotcha.” he crawled on top of you.

You were right; something about tonight was different between the both of you; the dynamic wasn’t raw and animalistic. It was soft and delicate. Eddie crawled on top of you and slowly slid himself into you. The execution was effortless. Your slick canal was more than ready to take him. He kissed you and kissed you, and kissed you. Eddie kissed you all over. No words were being spoken. The only sound that filled the room was the sound of skin-on-skin and illegible moans of pleasure. No words needed to be spoken, not anymore. Not tonight. You and Eddie both knew that tonight was about making love. He was soft and gentle, 180 from where you two usually went in the bedroom, but this is what you needed, the missing puzzle piece finally being found. Eddie’s hands intertwined with your own; considering all of the intimate things you had done thus far, this moment takes the cake. He was gazing into your eyes, and his cock brushed the walls of your pussy. Each thrust had meaning behind it. Each time he leaned in to kiss, you meant something, something more than you would ever have the pleasure of knowing. You felt love, even if he hadn’t said anything; you knew deep, deep down this was his way of showing you how much you meant to him. To take care of you, to be there for you… and the same goes for him, even if you don’t know it. You being there for Violet Rose and being there for Eddie also made you the missing puzzle piece to his life.

“Eddie, baby, I’m close” You broke the silence and tucked his wild main behind his ears.

Eddie smiled and brought his hand down between your bodies so he could massage your clit, knowing how much you loved when he played with the bundle of nerves. Only a few circles do it for you until your body is jerking under Eddie’s.

“That’s my girl, fuck yes, that’s it. Just like that, come for me, Angel.” he kept thrusting as the orgasm took over your body.

The feeling of his head hitting the top of your cunt as your pussy clamps down on his cock like a vice has Eddie following not far behind. He tried to pull out before he came, but when you begged him to come inside you. Who was he to deny the women he loves? He’s only but a man, a man blinded by your magical pussy that was sucking him back in.

“Fuck baby, you want my babies, you want me to get you all round and pregnant. You want my cum that bad.” He whispered.

All you could do was nod and pull his body closer to you, not ever wanting him to leave.

“Fuck” Eddies thrusts became less uniform and sloppy as he came, releasing his seed inside you.

Eddie pulled out a few seconds later. you were at a loss, but you had to clean yourself up, so you tried getting up, but Eddie stopped you.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom, I have to you know” suddenly feeling shy.

“No, you stay here. I’ll go.”

“But I feel it leaking already” you giggle

Eddie hopped out of bed and ran to the master bathroom; you couldn’t help but check out his little tush as it glowed in the moonlight.

Not even 30 seconds later he was back with a damp towel helping you clean up. “I, um, I hope you know about the baby thing… It was just um, I uh.” He cleared his throat.

“It’s okay, I have an IUD remember.” You roll over to face him. “Okay, good, right. But never can be too careful,” he clarified.

“It was um in the moment, I liked it” You shuffle your body so you're resting your head on his bare chest.

“I’m always careful, but somehow, you know how to make my brain mush.” He laughs.

“I guess I have that effect on people.” You tilt your head up to kiss his neck.

“Fuck Angel, I don’t know if I can go again,” he sighed.

“ M’sorry baby, you’re just so sexy” You hum in his ear.

Eddie turned his head and lifted your chin so he could kiss you. You melted back into the bedsheets, feeling the best you’d ever felt.

“We should go to sleep, baby. I have a big have a big day planned for us tomorrow."

“Okay, goodnight baby” you sigh as he gives you one last goodnight kiss.

_

The following day, you woke up with dread coursing through your veins. Wide awake, laying in bed, your head cleared, you realized the mistake you had made last night. The bond between you and Eddie was too woven, too tight. It will kill you to break it, but you had to, and now you ruined everything.

You were spaced out the rest of the day; you hardly realized you had been outside walking by the water. "I have something special planned for us." Eddie took your hand as you walked through the ancient cobblestone streets, snapping you out of your daze.

Your heart sank, this was all becoming too much, but you played it off, not wanting to crush Eddie's heart, so you sucked it up and gave him a smile.

You could see a single yacht docked at the end as you approached the water's edge. As you approached, it was lit with hundreds of tiny fairy lights. You could see red and white balloons and many flowers. Assorted wildflowers mixed with purple roses and... poppies. A nod to the nickname his daughter gave you. Your heart was racing; you couldn't bear to do this to him. You couldn't let him go through with whatever romantic gesture he had planned. Halfway up the ramp, you stopped, and Eddie had tugged on your arm, thinking you were still trekking along behind him.

"What is it, Angel? Are you scared of boats?" He looked concerned, not thinking about that option when he had planned that night.

"No, uh, it isn't that." You fought back the crack in your voice.

"Then come on, I have to show you something." He said with a smile tugging your arm again, but your feet were planted. Refusing to go any further.

"Eddie. I can't," you whisper.

"Sure, you can come on." He was oblivious to your inner turmoil.

"I can't do this," you shook your head, fighting back the tears.

Eddie's face went from happy school boy to concerned father instantly.

"Baby, what's wrong? Talk to me." he rested both hands on your shoulders, looking down at you with a furrowed brow.

"I need to go. I can't be here." The panic in your voice broke.

"You're scaring me angel, what is wrong?” you didn't think the look of concern could get any more profound, but it did.

You didn't answer him; you turned and walked off the ramp and back down the dock onto the cobbled streets.

Eddie chased after you, not letting you go by yourself in an unfamiliar city alone at night.

"Baby, wait!" you didn't look back. You just kept running. You no longer were able to hold back your tears. The crying turned into sobs. You could hardly see where you had been going before Eddie caught up with you, placing a hand on your shoulder to bring you around to face him.

Your sobs mixed with your panting from running, made you need to catch your breath before you could speak.

"Don't make me do this," You sobbed into him.

Eddie stroked the back of your head, trying to console you; he was confused but more frightened than anything. He didn't understand what made you run? What had he done wrong? Was it the boat?

"Let's get you inside" He guided you down a few more streets, and you caught your breath as you approached the doors to Eddie's home.

Eddie sat you down and went to fetch you a glass of water

"You need to talk to me, Angel. What is going on?" He squatted in front of you, placing both hands on each knee for you to look at him.

"Eddie, we can't do this, this is too real! We took things too far. I don't know what to do? How can we keep doing this when we know how this will end?" you rambled.

"Angel, who says it has to end?" He needed clarification.

"We both signed that contract. You know we can't keep this up forever. We only have one week left before this is all over!" You raised your voice because now you were frustrated. What was he not understanding?

"Who cares about the contract?!" he yelled back, now frustrated.

Eddie had never yelled at you before; never once had he raised his voice at you in the past year.

“I care! My whole career depended on this stupid arrangement!” You yell.

“Oh, that's really all this was to you?! A Stupid arrangement? I’m just a way to get you to the top, huh?” Eddie was hurt. His words came out laced with venom.

“Fuck! No, not anymore! That isn’t want I meant!” You reach your hands out to Eddie, but he flinches away.

“But it's what you said!” He pointed.

“God, Eddie! That’s not what I meant! How we feel no longer matters; we can’t go on!” You cried.

“How could it not matter?!” He stood up and started pacing.

“Because it just can’t! You screamed.

“Yes, I can because guess what? I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU!” Eddie shouts back.

Your heart stops beating, your head starts spinning. Eddie loves you. That's what this date was about; he would profess his love for you...but it’s too late. All of this is too much. You should have kept things professional. It was supposed to be easy. No heartbreaks, no feelings, no getting attached. Simple. It was supposed to be simple!

“None of that matters...” you whisper with a solemn sniffle.

“Doesn’t matter?! How could this not matter?! You’re my world!” your real name fell out of his mouth. Not once in this year had Eddie even muttered your actual name. Your heart breaks into a million shards of glass ripping through your chest. He fell to his knees, kneeling in front of you.

“We can’t be together! This wasn’t supposed to happen!” you stand up off the couch and continue, “We can’t be together, okay! What don’t you understand? We HAVE to break up, Eddie. The contract is over; it's finished. We are finished.” you started pacing the room, you can't look at him, you refuse to look at him. You think you'll be sick if you glance in his direction.

Eddie’s heart was literally cracking into two pieces, how could you be saying these things to him? Why was this happening now? He was going to ask you tonight, he had everything planned… and now you’re breaking up with him? Because of a contract?

“How can you say that? After everything we have been through!” he belted, feeling betrayed.

“The contract says so! My career says so.” You were beyond frustrated and hurt, but this had to be done because legally, it needed to happen.

“Angel, please.” He took a step towards you with his arms reaching out.

“Eddie. Don’t.” you took a step back. Eddie winced as if he had physically been burned.

“I can’t believe you’re throwing all we had away.” He shook his head, refusing to look at you. “There is nothing we can do! We both signed the contract. You knew this day was coming! I don’t understand why I’m the bad guy?!” you pleaded.

“You think I gave two shits about what that piece of paper says? Do you think I read anything it said when I had a dream girl placed in my lap! Do you think I read that?! NO, I didn’t, not when I would be with you!" He tested the waters, taking another step forward, but you took another step back.

“Eddie, please, no. Tell me you knew that we had to break up… please.” you cried.

“Of course not! I don’t care about it. I love you, why don't you understand?!” He pleaded.

“I care! I can’t fuck up my career, don’t you get that?!” You could pull your hair out.

"So that's it? Just like that, we are done? You stand there, and you can look me in the eye and say your career is more important to you than our relationship? That's what all of this is about for you this whole time? I know you love me, and you won't say it back!" Eddie threw his pointer finger at you.

"That's not what I'm saying. You mean everything to me!" Your nose was running, and the streams of mascara and eyeliner cascaded down your cheeks.

"Then why are we fighting?!" Eddie's voice carried more than he knew. You winced at his tone.

You can't handle it when people yell at you. It only makes you cry more.

"Because I can't allow myself to love you." You shake your head in defeat.

"Baby, please don't do this to us. I can't live without you; Violet Rose needs you. I can't picture a life without you in it.” That little red velvet box felt like fifty pounds in his jacket pocket right now.

“So because you say so, that's it? This is the end?" Eddie pinched his brow bone.

“It's not me who decides, Eddie... We both signed a deal..." you seethed.

"Fine," just like that, he turned and stormed out of the front door.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You stood in the grand room with nothing but regret and sorrow to keep you company. You didn't eat, and you didn't sleep much over the next twenty-four hours.

You don't know how long you stood there before your body collapsed from exhaustion. You didn't know your catatonic state would last you a few days. You didn't know how you ended up at the airport, and you don't know how you got on the airplane back to L.A.

You didn't know that that would be your last time seeing Eddie.

You needed to fix this. You called Roger when you finally snapped out of the trance a few days later, but it was too late.

"The story is already out to Princess. It is being streamed on TMZ, People Magazine, and ETalk... There isn't anything we can do. Why do you want to keep it going?" He asked, confused. Knowing he would have cut it shorter, you never disclosed the truth to Roger.

“Never mind, Roger, I guess that’s it then.” You hung up without saying goodbye, no longer able to fight back your sobs.

That was it; the story was out, and you were curled up in bed for days. When the crying finally stopped you were more like a zombie, sleeping, waking up, then sleeping again. Anything to avoid life, you did. You just went through the motions.

Your phone and TV had been off after your phone call with Roger. You decided to turn your phone back on, with the thought of your mom freaking out from not hearing from you in a few days crossed your mind.

The first notification you get as soon as it turns on…“Hollywood's most beloved couple call it quits.”

The reality of your actions came crashing into you like a Mack Truck. You would never hear his laugh, never be able to hold him, never be able to help VR with her homework again. You would never be able to feel complete. So that was it; what’s done is done. You could do nothing to reverse the damage you brought to Eddie’s life. You just hoped that one day he would have it in his heart to forgive you, to understand why you did what you did… because you are in love with him, and you always will be.

~end~

Read part 2 here

Thank you for taking the time to read 💜 comments, reblogs and likes are always appreciated and encouraged ! 🫶🏻

Tagging some moots and ppl who asked to be tagged : @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n @callsignraver @changemunson @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @mmunson86 @xxhellfiregirlxx @amira0303 @lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn @hellfire--cult @hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks @crazycat-ladys-blog @purplehazed-h

[cameronspecial]

Rafe and reader - enemies to lovers

Protective!rafe with innocent!reader

She asks her best friends brother for help when she’s in trouble!

Safe In The Arms Of The Enemy

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Fear of Being Followed and Walking Home Drunk Alone

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Masterlist

Y/N and Sarah have been best friends for as long as she can remember. Even though Y/N is three years older, they met when she was nine and Sarah was six. The two of them just clicked and they have been thick as thieves ever since. This led to their families growing close together. The Camerons were always so nice to Y/N; everyone except for Rafe. For some reason, he has always been bothered by Y/N and she reciprocates that feeling because his hate provokes her.

The music in Sarah’s room blares through the speakers while Y/N stands in front of the mirror, singing along to “Stressed Out” by Twenty One Pilots. She is sleeping over at the Camerons' house to keep Sarah company. Ward, Rose and Wheezie are on the mainland for Wheezie’s spelling bee and Rafe is who knows where. The girls had grown peckish, so Sarah offered to get some pizza, leaving behind her best friend at Tannyhill by herself. “Wish we could turn back time. To the good old days. When our mama sang us to sleep, But now we're stressed out.” Her right hand forms an o as she uses it as a microphone. Her focus is on her own reflection, so she doesn’t notice Rafe’s appearance behind her. He leans against the door frame with his arm above his head. “Wow, you would think with how rich your parents are that they would pay for singing lessons for you after hearing you screech like a banshee,” he teases. 

Her eyes roll in their socket and she turns to face him. She fires back, “Like I care about your opinion. I’ve seen your tastes and I’m glad that I’m not up to your standards.” “Whatever,” he grumbles. “Obviously you are blind because I have amazing tastes.” 

“Nah, I’m not the problem. You are,” she pushes to infuriate him. She steps forward and they are face to face. He crouches down so their eyes meet, “I wish I was the one with the problem because then I wouldn’t have to deal with you. I swear every time I see you at my house, which is all the time, I wonder when you are going to get the fuck out of my life because I hate that you are in it.” 

His words don’t meet his eyes, but she doesn’t notice. Instead, her mind takes the words to heart. A poke attacks her heart and it causes a tsunami of blood to come out. She can’t explain why she takes the word to heart; she returns the sentiment. Nevertheless, maybe she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does because as much as she loathes him, she couldn’t imagine her life without their quipful exchanges. He sees her tight lips and her silent demeanour; guilt flashes through him.

Before he can try to resolve the situation, Sarah passes behind him with a steaming pizza in her hand. “Ugh. Rafe, leave her alone. I would like to eat in peace,” she complains, setting the flat box on her desk. His hand runs over his lips as he thinks. “Fine, I don’t care. Later losers.” 

———

The ending of summer means Rafe and Y/N have to return back to UNC. When she found out he was going to the same university as her (she should’ve seen it coming because Ward is an alumnus), she hesitated to accept her position; however, she figured uni was a big place and the chances of running into him were slim. It has been true for the most part. They’ve only run into each other five times in the two years they have been at university.

She stumbles through the dark street with her head pounding. It wasn’t the best idea to be walking home alone while drunk, except she didn’t want to make her friends go home early. She lied to them and told them another friend was picking her up. Her feet catch on the pavement and a rock skips across the ground. A car passing beside her causes her to jump away from the road. Her inebriated state makes her more paranoid. She lets out a breath when the taillights fade into the distance. Laughter coming from behind her causes her to spin around. She spots men walking in her direction and even though they don’t appear to be looking at her, panic sets through her. She begins to walk faster as her breathing starts to get faster and she decides to run into an alley to hide. Her first thought is to call to help, so she pulls out her phone and dials the first number that comes to mind. “What do you want?” he grunts through the phone. “Rafe, I’m scared. I don’t know what to d-” She hears footsteps coming closer to her and hangs up. A trash can seems like the perfect cover, so she drops behind it against the wall. 

Rafe sits up straight from the couch and stares at the phone. The screen showing that the call has been ended makes him grow anxious. He begins to pace as he tries her phone again. His hand runs through his hair while he replays the fear in her mind. He is sent to voicemail and wants to through his phone against the wall. Another thought comes to mind and he decides against it. 

———

She doesn’t know how long she has been behind the garbage with her head pressed against her legs. She is honestly too scared to move in case those men are still around. It didn’t look like they were following her, but it is better safe than sorry. The alcohol in her system starts to affect her state of consciousness and she struggles to keep her eyes open. A hand on her back causes her to scream and jump back. Her head hits against the brick wall. She grimaces as she brings her hand up to rub the back of her head. “It’s okay, Sweetheart. It’s me, Rafe.” The familiar voice makes her look up to verify his identity. 

She sees his mop of dirty blonde hair and his stunning blue eyes stare back at her. She has never been so happy to see him. Her arms wrap around him to pull him against her, “I was so scared. Are they still out there?” She surveys the street once they separate. His hand cups her cheek to check her for injuries; he isn’t concerned about their surroundings. “Sweetheart, there is no one around. Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do something to you?” He frowns at the last part, following her search with a hard expression to find the person he has to defend her against. She doesn’t find anyone and her shoulder drops in his hold. Her head rests against his chest. Tears begin staining his shirt. His hand laces between the hair at the nape of her neck and he gently scratches her scalp. He knows it soothes her. He kisses her forehead, “I’ve got you. You are safe.” For the first time tonight, Y/N feels safe and she is in the arms of her enemy.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

[hoe4sports]

Pretty girl

Leah Williamson x reader

A note from the author: Tihi, just a short lil cutie fic from my cuties. Not too happy with this one :/ Intuition p2 and How this ends p2 will be out this weekend; planning to finish them on the plane.

Warnings: None.

Summary: Reader is pregnant and has her hands full, before a mysterious girl offers to carry her stuff to her car.

—

You found yourself in the middle of an isle in the cutest little baby boutique you had ever laid your hands on. The boutique was rather high end, but you didn't mind. All of the clothes were adorable and it felt like for each item you looked at; it was getting even cuter. Music was beaming in your ears and the cooling sensation from the air condition felt good on your body. It was fairly hot in England, and you were just wearing your bright pink summer dress. Your hands roamed through the materials on the shelf. The need to nest had crept up on you a few weeks ago which led you to hire people to do the nursery.

Life had been picture perfect; a good paying job, a blooming career, a hot fiance, a newly purchased dream house, the kindest golden retriever and your new Lexus made life seem like it was a bliss. You thought that life couldn't get any better until you one morning watched two little lines appear on a pregnancy test. From this moment, life was perfect. It was even more perfect when you got told that you were carrying a little baby girl around with you. But that was when your world came crashing down. Your fiancé had decided that he wasn't ready for a child, funny enough just when you were told that it was a girl. Perhaps it was the fear of being a girl dad that scared him, and you honestly didn’t blame him. It was scary to have a child, but you would rather have a child alone than a child that wasn’t gonna feel love from both parents. The instant he left, you decided that you were still going to make the best out of it. You made a promise to love your little girl enough for the both of you.

Your hand reached for a pink little onesie with pink lacing around the neck. It was an adorable and you immediately decided that you needed the piece of clothing. The next thing you grabbed was a little pink skirt before adding another onesie with some flowers on it. The basket quickly filled up before you got an employee to help you with deciding on a crib. You ended up with a white crib with soft paintings of roses next to it. It fit the aesthetic of the room perfectly. You were a girly girl through and through. Then you headed towards the register, paying for all the clothes and the crib before you got the girl to bring out your pre ordered car seat. It was a cybex car seat with a 360 turn and a stroller attachment. It felt good to know that you had everything taken care of. You wanted everything to be perfect for her. Anything for your little girl.

«Alright Miss, that comes up to 478.90 p, cash or card?» the cashier says as she smiles towards you. She looked young, not older than 20, but she was for sure good at her job.” Card, please» you confirmed as you pulled out your Amex.

Once you had paid, the girl had bagged everything up for you. You placed the rather large bag in the baby seat and carried the box with your other hand. It was a struggle and you mentally cursed yourself for not bringing help.

«Please, let me help you with that! »

A girl’s voice calls from behind you. You turn around still holding on to both the box with the crib, the car seat and the paper bags of clothes for your baby. Your gaze meets the girl’s worried gaze. You smile gratefully at her while handing over the bag. Unexpectedly, she grabs everything from your hands. It makes you blush slightly, and you tuck your hair behind your ear.

“You didn’t have to, thank you so much! I should probably have parked closer to the store” you say with a little giggle at the end of the sentence. The girl smiles in return, and you catch a glimpse of her defined arms while she walks infront of you to the car. The sight makes you feel warm thought your body. Wow, you think to yourself. People are still good.

You pressed your key making the car beep and the lights blink. The girl immediately goes towards the correct car and gives you a nod of approval. «Rad looking car, i love a good blackout window» she compliments which causes you to instantly smile. You both stop behind the car before you press the booth waiting for the electric door to open.

When you stand there, you see the girls sunglasses slipping off and you instinctively push them carefully back up. The girl gives you a charming smile before placing your boxes inside the car. She presses the button on the trunk which makes it shut itself close, and you place your handbag in the passenger seat.

“Thank you so much, uhm, what was your name again?”

“I didn’t say my name”

“What is your name?”

“It’s a secret”

“Hm, keep being stubborn, you look like a Anya. So Anya it is!” You tease while crossing your arms before an unexpected silence wraps around your conversation. Anya, as you have decided to call her, smiles at you while shaking her head lightly. She doesn’t say anything which makes you feel uncomfortable. You love to talk, and your parents always said that your talent was that you could find something to talk about in any situation. But this situation was different, you felt at loss for words. You decided to go the safe route and be polite again.

“Again thank you so much, Anya! Could I offer you anything? A coffee and a pastry, maybe?” you suggest, mostly out of courtesy not really think much of it ready to hop into your car.

“Actually, I would love that” she smiles back. You look gobsmacked for a second making her face frown a little. “Oh,Sorry, I just assumed you didn’t want to, but let’s go. I know the perfect place!” you cheer trying to stop the situation from escalating making your face light up. She smiles from your enthusiasm.

“Alright, Mrs. Whe-“

You interrupt her while pointing demonstrably to your finger without a ring, but a clear tan line from where your engagement ring once sat. “It’s Miss”

She smiles cheekily before nodding in approval.

“Miss, where do you wanna go?”

“I know the perfect place. It’s just around the corner, walk with me.” You say as you grab your purse and close the door of your car. The stroll to the cafe isn’t too long, just a good 7 minute walk. You don’t really say much on your way there, because you don’t know what to say. It’s uncomfortable for you, because you always know what to talk about. You stop at the cafe and enter it while the smell of cinnamon rolls is welcoming you.

“Cute place, didn’t know this place even existed” Anya says as she scans the room looking over her sunglasses.

“It’s my indefinite favourite, I used to come here all the time. They have the best service and the best coffee, I promise” you say as the barista comes to the register.

“Y/N! Hiya! My favourite customer. The usual for you today?” She says as she smiles. It’s the owner of the cafe, Tiana, she was the first person you got to know once you moved to the city. “You know it Ti” you say as you smile before you look over at the blonde you brought with you.

“What about you Miss, what can I offer you today?” Tiana asked as she looked over at the blonde. She scans the menu quickly, and looks at you. “Make that a double.” She says making you blush. You look down at your shoes confused. Oh, how you loved a pretty face and Anya was a sight for sore eyes.

“Alright, that gets you to 5.99, cash or card?” Tiana asked looking at you. “Card” you repeate while roaming through you bag to find your card. Once you find it, you look over at the blonde who has her card over the terminal just as the terminal beeps before confirming that the payment went through. You look at her as you cross your arms. “I was supposed to get that!” You complain as you frown.

“I always pay on the first date” she says. The statement makes your mind go crazy. You felt like a thousand butterflies were rushing through your belly and you instinctively rest a hand on your bump. Did she really say that? you think. You settle on the assumption that she probably said something else, but you just misheard what she said.

You head over to a table with a view of the nearby park, perfect for people watching. Your iced mocha with a pump of vanilla and cinnamon rolls comes to your table. Tiana smiles at you before placing it down. “Enjoy your little…” she says before leaning in. “Date” she whispers which causes you to blush instantly. The blonde just looks at you while smiling before she sips the drink.

“Tell me what you think! Isn’t it just glorious?" you ask before taking a sip of your own.

"It sure is good, you really were right about that one" she says before placing it down and picking up her cinnamon roll.

"So, Y/N, tell me more about yourself" she suggest before digging into her roll.

You clear your throat as you try to think of what to say.

"Well, im 25 and i work as a lawyer for this international company which is also why i moved to this city. I am currently pregnant, which you probably figured anyway. My ex fiance left me a few months ago, and since then; it has only been me, little girly inside here and our-, my golden retriever, Tucker" you realise you are rambling, making you feel slighly embarassed over your excitement. You pop a piece of the cinnamon roll in your mouth to make you shut up.

“Interesting, sounds like he was an ass. Sorry about him” she says as she straightens up her posture.

“Oh, don’t be! I’d rather have him out now than when she gets here. Wouldn’t want to get too used to having a pair of extra hands when it was just gonna be me. Besides, my sisters are more than happy to help so I will be lucky if I can have my hands on her”

You joke, feeling embarrassed again.

“Sorry, sorry, I tend to ramble. Please feel free to tell me to shut up” you mumble as your cheeks blush.

“I don’t mind at all. Strong and independent” She smiles before taking another sip of her coffee. Her eyes meets yours and you finally notice how blue her eyes are. Crystal clear blue.

“Tell me more about you, please?” You ask before shoving another piece of pastry down your throat. The comfort from her made you feel better about yourself. It was rare that people understood your rambling, but she really didn’t seem to mind.

“Well, my name is Leah, I am 27 and I work in sports. I don’t have a dog or a cat, which I probably should, seems like it is good company, yeah?” she says while smiling at you.

“Definitely! I love tucker, he has been such a good help when it comes to getting past my ex and everything. It made it feel much smoother and I was forced to get fresh air when I was at my lowest, he really is the bestest boy.” You exclaim while pulling up your phone to flash Leah your screen, a picture of Tucker with a scrunchie holding his ears on the top of his head while he has an attitude on his face. Leah giggles when she sees the picture which makes you feel good. “Wow, he really looks like an absolute sweetheart.” She says before the conversation flows through topics like food, goals, hobbies and motivation.

And before m you know it, she is finishing her drink up. She places the cup firmly on the table making it cling. “I need to get going to work, walk with me?” She askes before pushing her chair out. “Of course, it would be an honour” you state before mentally facepalming yourself to the moon. But Leah dosent seem to care, she seems to finds it sweet.

-

When you eventually get back to the parking lot, she follows you back to your car before opening the door for you. You giggle at her before jumping in. She leans towards the roof of your car while shading her face from the sun by putting her hand up, once again showing off her toned arms.

“Thank you again, Leah. For carrying my stuff and the coffee. I wish you would’ve let me paid. Can I transfer you?” You suggest pulling up your phone expecting her banking details.

She shooks her head before smirking.

“I know what you can do to show your appreciation”

“What? I’d do anything”

“You are single, right?”

“Uh, I..”

“Oh, man, I’m sorry fo-“

“No, no! I’m single, just caught off guard. Is there a blind date you want to set me up with? Like with your brother?”

“God, no. How about a date with me? You put on a nice dress and i’ll make a reservation for us for Saturday?”

You become too stunned to speak. Not finding your words. Your thoughts are going at 100 miles per hour and you couldn’t separate your head from your ass if you tried.

“You realise that I’m pregnant, right? Like, about to have a baby in some months?” You ask slightly embarrassed, but not wanting to trap her or lure her into something when you are pregnant. It is a lot to deal with when it comes to dating someone pregnant.

“Yes?” She bluntly asked with a confused look on her face while she ruffles her hair back.

“Oh, are you sure? You can always change your mind, I wouldn’t blame you at all. Taking someone on a date is tough, but a pregnant woman? Gosh, that is probably terrifying.” You ramble on feeling slightly anxious. It isn’t that you don’t want to date her, but you are scared that she is getting herself into something that she will struggle getting out off.

“I honestly don’t mind, you have a good heart and a pretty face. You are an exceptional talker, and you are intelligent. Being pregnant is a situation in your life, it’s not your personality. I don’t mind that, or kids, or fur kids at all. So, what do you say?”

You sit there, absolutely gobsmacked for the third time within the hours.

“Okay, okay if you really want to. Then yes, I’ll go on a date with you, but remember that you can always say no”

“Alright pretty girl, pop your number into my phone and I’ll text you the details, yeah?”

You nod while grabbing her phone putting your number in under your name before handing it back over.

“I guess I’ll see you soon?”

“I promise that you will, now take care of both you, little miss inside of you and Tucker!” She says before winking as she closes your door carefully and turns to walk to her car. You sit in the car speechless. You don’t even understand what just happened. What just spun out over the last hour. You have so many feelings at once that you feel a tear drop to your lap. Damn you hormones, you say before drying your eyes making you giggle over your own silliness. She was just such a good woman.

You pull out of the parking lot listening to Taylor Swift bopping along to the music. The beaming streets passing as your car you drive. When you eventually pull up to your home, you look at your phone. To your surprise, you see a text from a new number.

“Pretty girl, be ready on Saturday at 19. I’ll pick you up. Leah xx”

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[stillmonsterz]

my summer girl

pairing: jay x reader

genre: smut, fluff

summary: it's 1975, jay is about to enter his last year of university, and he's still a virgin. however, he plans to change that this summer when he goes abroad to france. the only problem is finding someone good enough to be his first.

warnings: unprotected sex, swearing, voyeurism, dubcon

word count: 7.2k

--

It was the summer of 1975, and Jay was going to lose his virginity. He knew that he was a late-bloomer; 21 years old, three years of university under his belt, and he hadn’t so much as seen a woman in her undergarments. But contrary to the teasing remarks of his friends, it was his decision. Jay wanted it to be a perfect experience, something out of the fanciful, romantic novels he regularly read in his spare time, or like a movie. He wanted his first time to be complete with red roses on white sheets, aromatic oils dripping from their bodies, and swelling music that led to a sensuous, thrilling crescendo. Jay occupied the time not spent on work, school, and his various hobbies with these grandiose fantasies. While his friends cavorted with the women from their established university, Jay bided his time. 

Then he got the best news of his life. As he packed away his clothes for summer vacation, one of his classmates who worked in the school office knocked on his door.

“Jay,” she said, “your mother called.”

Jay brightened; he liked to hear from his parents, and he was fully prepared to brag about both his grades and his prowess on the rugby field. The words that came out of his mother’s mouth, however, dashed away all thoughts of grandstanding.

“Honey,” his mother said as he clutched the phone. “We’re coming to get you shortly.”

“Today? I already booked a flight to visit you guys in a few days,” he replied. “I was just packing up.”

“Well, we’ve had a slight change of plans. We’ve decided to fly to France for a month this summer!”

Jay nearly dropped the phone, but he tried to feign nonchalance. “France? That’ll be a great opportunity to practice my French with the locals…”

His mother cooed, “Oh, aren’t you so practical? We’ll be staying at this gorgeous chateau in a town called Gordes, I’m sure you’ll love it…”

She kept speaking, but Jay was too busy imagining his summer. He wouldn’t just lose his virginity in France, he would be able to  have madcap adventures with a gorgeous woman. A wild summer fling charged with youthful exuberance and set in such a romantic country…it was beyond his expectations.

When he got off of the phone, Jay was practically vibrating with excitement. He rushed to his friends’ dorm room- Heeseung and Jake’s room. His own roommate, Sunghoon, was nowhere to be seen. Probably trying to convince his on-again off-again girlfriend that they should take a break so he could “sort himself out.”

Jay burst inside of the room. “Guys,” he said, opening the door with gusto, “I have some excellent news.”

Heeseung and Jake had been sitting cross-legged on the floor and playing a game of Crazy Eights, a game that they didn’t halt despite Jay’s intrusion. “Are you finally going to get laid?” Jake asked blithely, setting down a five of spades.

“Yes, actually,” Jay said, leaning against the doorframe.

Heeseung and Jake looked at each other, then at Jay. 

“Really?” Heeseung asked suspiciously, while Jake asked, “You’re not going to visit a whorehouse, are you?”

“Yes,” Jay said, pointing at Heeseung. He shifted his finger over to Jake. “And no to that.”

Heeseung chanced a smile. “You’re seriously going to do it?”

“Yes,” Jay said, crossing his arms. “My family and I are going to France for the holidays. I’m going to meet a beautiful woman, and she will be my summer girl.”

Heeseung rested his hands on his jeans, a smirk on his face. “Your what?” 

“My summer girl,” Jay explained, gesticulating madly. The scenes played out in front of his very eyes like a Technicolour romance. “We’ll meet at the chateau, we’ll play tennis together, hold hands, and then I’ll fuck the everliving daylights out of her every single day. Then- stop laughing at me- then I’ll leave her behind, because she’s my summer girl.”

Jay heard footsteps behind him- it was Sunghoon, trotting down towards the room with an annoyed expression on his face. “Hey guys,” he said, walking past Jay and sitting on Heeseung’s bed.

Jake turned to Sunghoon, who was swigging on a bottle of coke. “Sunghoon,” Jake said with feigned innocence, “our friend Jay here is going to find a ‘summer girl’ and ‘fuck the everliving daylights out of her.” Sunghoon choked on his soda as he doubled over in laughter. Jay clenched his hands into fists as his friends teased him. That’s fine, Jay thought, It is not by muscle, speed, or physical dexterity that great things are achieved, but by reflection, force of character, and judgment. And he had force of character in spades. While they dabbled with whores and sluts, he would find a quality, stunning woman to be his summer girl. 

–

As it turns out, not only were there no quality, stunning women milling about the chateau, there weren’t even any whores and sluts. Jay had walked all around the premises of the area in abject horror. The chateau stood by itself, nestled into a forested area with no neighbors for miles. Jay could. The nearest town was a 40 minute drive away, and not only was Jay an unconfident driver, but the town was so small he figured that any single woman was probably single for a reason. He tried to keep up his spirits so that his parents wouldn’t realize that he was disappointed- or worse, attempt to figure out why he was so disappointed. As he trudged through the opulent, spacious chateau, however, he felt a heaviness in his heart and a stiffness in his cock. There was a codgy butler milling around, a cook in the kitchen, and apparently there was a maid. Presumably, they were all related.

Jay slumped onto his bed and sighed. His room was rustic, with dark-stained floors, white-washed walls, and hand-carved wooden furniture. There was a small bookshelf in his room replete with both French and English books, so at least he would come away this summer with a decent grasp of French grammar. Jay groaned again, closing his eyes. He wished that the soft light filtering through the gauzy curtains beside his bed  would turn to raucous thunder and gloomy skies, or at the very least a drizzle of rain to complement his mood.

He heard a knock on the door and sighed. “Who is it?”

“Ah, housekeeping,” the voice said quietly. Jay’s ears perked up; that voice sounded decidedly feminine. Then he came back to reality; maids were generally married women who would have little interest in sleeping with the son of the master of the home. When Jay didn’t respond, the woman continued, saying, “Mrs. Park asked to have some tea delivered to your door, in case the flight unsettled your stomach.”

He wished that it was the flight causing him this internal anguish. “Please,” he said, closing his eyes and crossing his arms behind his head, “bring it in.”

The door opened quietly, and Jay could hear the rattle of the tea tray as it was carried into the room and set on his nightstand. His nose picked up on something, a floral fragrance that wafted in a pleasant cloud. 

He opened his eyes, and then he saw you.

You were wearing a dark blue maid uniform with a stained white apron, but you kept yourself well. You were groomed well, your nails were clipped short and polished, and your face was bright and sweet. And that perfume…Jay wondered how much you had had to save up to purchase it, or if it had been a gift. Maybe a boyfriend had gifted it to you.

“Did you need something else?” Your voice was so kind, and you looked at him so expectantly.

“No,” Jay whispered softly, “nothing at all.”

You nodded and pointed to a small piece of cloth hanging out of the wall above his desk. In his despondent mood, Jay hadn’t noticed it. “If you need me, you can pull that and it’ll alert me. It’s a bit old-fashioned, but this is an older house…”

Jay smiled. “Any time?”

“When you need something, sir,” you replied, smoothing your apron down. 

Jay cleared his throat. “Of course.” He poured himself a cup of tea, dropping two lumps of sugar inside and mixing it languidly. As he sipped his tea, he noticed that you were still lingering nearby. His smirk was hidden by his teacup as he looked you up and down. You must want him already. “Ah…you’re still here, Miss…?”

You told him your name, then said, “I have to be dismissed.”

Jay’s face reddened. “Right. Yes, right, of course. You’re dismissed.” You bid him goodbye and left him with the tea tray. As Jay sipped his tea, his feet crossed at the ankle, his vision for the summer shifted. Instead of wild encounters in haylofts and dirty, wet hot sex in valleys and behind churches, Jay now envisioned himself ravaging you in that little maid outfit of yours. Yes, he thought as his hand slowly crept to his crotch, this was perfect. 

He had found his summer girl.

–

Jay was able to quickly ascertain the problem with his plan- you were his maid. And you had to work. While he lounged outside, sunbathing shirtless, you were inside polishing the silver. He would eat lavish dinners, and you were the one who set the table, brought the food, and stood by on hand and foot. While he enjoyed being able to ogle you at his leisure, he started to feel like a brat. What could he do to prove to you that he wasn’t just a spoiled child? 

When he would stew over this, he would feel indignant. Why did he care about what the wait staff thought of him? He was Jay Park, and you should be so glad that he wasn’t ordering you to hand-wash his boxers. In fact, what was stopping him from just ravishing you the second you walked inside of his room? He was a rugby player, and rich, and he could get away with it. Just as quickly as those thoughts would enter his head, however, they would be cast out. For starters, it wouldn’t be right. Moreover, it wouldn’t have been earned. He had spent years building up to the loss of his virginity, and he didn’t want it to be with a woman struggling to get away from him. He wanted to seduce her, pliant in his arms as he made passionate love to her on his bed, or on a beach, or maybe on the balcony, or by a river…

Generally, these mental deliberations always ended with him squirting lotion onto his hands and soothing his angry cock the best way he knew how. They were always fuelled by the image of you puttering around the chateau. 

You had this way about you that Jay found intoxicating. He would always pretend to read, but he would take peeks at you as you cleaned up. Something about your movements, your manner of speech were all so sensual. The care with which you take care of the house, the knitting of your eyebrows as you scrubbed at a particular spot, the precision you utilized when tidying his room, it all appealed to his more epicurean sensibilities. And, of course, that scent…whenever you left the room, he would stand where you had been and he would deeply inhale its heady aroma. 

After a week of this, Jay had come up with a paltry idea. He tugged on the piece of cloth, and within three minutes you arrived at the door. As usual, your expression was bright. “Hello, sir,” you said politely. 

“Hi,” he said with a tenderness that would have earned him Jake’s derision. “I would like you to bring me some Earl Grey tea. And bring two teacups.”

You gave him a quizzical look, but you said, “Yes, sir,” and bustled out of the room anyway. 

When you left, Jay picked up his small pocket mirror and checked his hair. He unbuttoned one of his buttons on his loose shirt, fluffed out the collar, and parted the curtains so that the light would settle on his face better. He laid on his bed with a practiced relaxation, waiting for you to return. 

You came back with a tea try equipped with two cups. Setting it on the nightstand, you smiled. “Enjoy, sir…”

“No, no, you’ll join me,” Jay replied. The way your eyes widened was so cute, Jay just wanted to kiss you.

“Oh…I don’t know if I can do that, I’ve got to polish the silver…”

“I’ll come down and vouch for you,” Jay said, holding one of the cups to her. “Please? I haven’t been able to talk to anyone near my age in a week. I’m going mad.”

You laughed and warily accepted the cup, which you then set down to pour his own tea. 

Jay rested a hand on yours and shook his head. “Please, allow me. Come on, sit on the bed.”

You did as he said, leaving a fair bit of space between the two of you. He carefully poured the tea for both of you, willing his hand to stay steady. “How do you take your tea?”

“Just like this,” you said. 

“Really? No sugars, no milk, no cream?”

You shook your head, and Jay sighed. “Have you ever tried it with sugar?”

Once again, you shook your head, sipping your tea. “No point in wasting sugar like that.”

Jay gently took your cup and dropped a lump of sugar into your tea, mixing it. “Try it like this.”

You wrapped both of your hands around the cup and took a slow sip. He loved the way you drank. “It’s good like this,” you said. “Very good.”

“Isn’t it?” Jay looked at you closely, and he knew that the warmth bursting inside of his chest wasn’t good for his plan. You were his summer girl, and affection would only ruin that. Jay drank his tea, trying not to stare at you. He decided that engaging you in a conversation might help; reminding himself of the class difference between you two would stave off the feelings blossoming within him. “So…what do you like to do?”

“What do I like to do?” You drummed your fingers on the cup as you thought. “Well…I like to go for walks. The area is simply gorgeous, so I go for walks when I’m not working. I like to sketch, too.”

“You sketch?” Jay swallowed his tea in one painful gulp. “What do you like to draw?”

“Oh…everything, I guess. The things I see. I like to draw flowers, trees. Sometimes people.”

“Would you draw me?” Jay blurted out, setting his tea cup on the tray.

“I couldn’t do that,” you said with a slight laugh. “Imagine how embarrassed I would feel if I made you look bad.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t do that,” he said, leaning against the headboard. “You’re so careful with everything you do. I bet your drawings are lovely.”

“You’re just flattering me, sir.”

“No, no, not at all,” Jay said with a laugh. 

“Or you’re trying to get a free portrait out of me.”

Jay shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can. Someone like you could afford to fly Elisabeth Chaplin here and have her paint a portrait of you,” you retorted. Then you stiffened; Jay figured that you weren’t used to speaking so casually.

He kept his voice light. “What are you saying then, that I should pay you?”

“How much would you pay for a portrait I did of you?”

“For you-,” he began, but just then, you heard a bell chime in a different room. The veneer of nicety came over you, and you quietly put your tea cup on the tray and lifted it. 

“Thank you for the tea-time, sir,” you said politely. “Have a lovely day.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, dejected. “You too.”

–

After that, he pulled on the cloth and asked for tea three more times. Three more times he had shared conversations of varying length with you, and something dreadful had happened to Jay. Instead of waves of raw, primal lust overtaking him and pushing him to take you on the sheets, Jay felt warm when he spoke to you. 

You told him about your ambitions, about how you had become a maid, your favourite records, your favourite books, how you would walk down the dusty road winding into town and meet your friend halfway. Then you would watch movies with her. You liked movies that were thrilling, a contrast to your own life. Every time you laughed, your eyes shifted, every time your fingers wrapped around the small teaspoon as you swirled a lump of sugar into your tea, Jay felt like the sun was rising within him. 

He watched you as you cleaned up. When you would go outside to tidy up the tennis courts after your parents would play a game, he would watch you, sometimes with one hand shoved inside of his pants. 

Jay knew that his fantasy of using you as nothing more than a warm body and bragging rights was fading away quickly. He had to refocus his efforts…but how? As he paced around his room one night, he got an idea. A damned good one, if you asked him. 

He knew that you got off work at 6 pm, so at 5:59 pm he tugged on the cloth. The scene was set; his bedsheets had been rumpled to mimic a post-coital aftermath, his shirt was sensually unbuttoned, and he had dabbed cologne behind his ears and on his wrists. The record player in the corner was playing a crooning Serge Gainsbourg song. The piece-de-resistance was the bottle of pinot noir that Jay had filched from his parents’ room while they were taking a stroll in the forest, along with two fine-stemmed wine-glasses.

As he heard your footsteps approaching his room, he adjusted his position so that he was lying on his back, one hand draped over his stomach, the other hanging over the edge of the bed. 

“Mr. Park?” you asked softly, rapping on his door.“Come in,” Jay said in a low, husky voice.

“What was that?”

“I said, ‘Come in,’” Jay said normally. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and Jay smirked at you. You had no clue what he had prepared for you. As usual, you were wearing your maid outfit, and your hands were clasped in front of your apron. Even from here, he could smell your sweet, floral scent; it was almost an aphrodisiac to Jay.

 “Come sit.”

You sat at the end of the bed so that his feet were pointed towards you. He shifted his position so that he was sitting up slightly. He leaned over to his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of wine.

“Do you like wine?” Jay asked, uncorking the bottle.

You nodded. “I do. I don’t drink it often, though.”

Jay poured you a glass of wine, making sure not to spill a drop. “This is a nice Domaine de Montille Les Pezerolles, from Pommard.”

“Oh, really?” You swirled the wine around in the glass, and he was pleased to see that you held the wineglass’ stem at the bottom. “It sounds good.”

“Yes,” he said, pouring himself a glass. He took a slow sniff of the wine before taking a sip. “This is from 1969, so it hasn’t completely thinned. In fact, it has a full body- you smell that?”

Before you could speak, Jay continued. “It was a dry summer when they harvested these grapes in Pommard in a premier cru- do you know what a premier cru is? It’s a vineyard where high-quality grapes are harvested. Of course, these aren’t the creme de la creme. The best grapes are harvested in what are called grand crus. Do you know Romanee-Conti?”

You paused, then said, “Ah…that’s a very expensive wine, yes?”

“It’s a type of wine,” Jay said, taking another sip of his wine. “I take it you’ve never had any?”

“Well…no.”

Jay pointed his pinky at you while he held onto his wineglass. “I’ll have to get you some someday. I’ve had a glass once, I believe it was a 1956 La Tache, and you can simply taste the caliber of the grapes. The tannins weren’t strong, more on the silkier side…”

You tilted your head. “What are tannins?”

Jay’s face brightened.Somehow, without knowing it, Jay had spent two hours explaining what tannins were, how wine was harvested, the ideal temperature to enjoy wine, and how he would pair the wine they were currently drinking with a meal. After 8 o’clock had approached, you had quietly excused yourself, bidding him goodnight. Jay had waved goodbye gaily, until he looked down at his empty wine glass and realized belatedly that he had squandered his opportunity to fuck you. 

Jay sighed and poured himself another glass of wine, sitting on his bed and closing his eyes. He was running out of ideas, and the third week of vacation was steadily approaching. If he went back to school without knowing what you felt like, what you tasted like, Jay thought he might die.

His dreams that night centered around you lying on his bed, naked save for a black pair of pantyhose. Jay was pouring that wine all over your body and sucking it off of your breasts, licking the sweetness from your stomach like a madman. He poured wine into your mouth, and you kissed him back so that he could drink from you. When Jay woke up, the taste of pinot noir was heavy on his tongue.

–

The next day, after breakfast, Jay knocked on the door of his parents’ room in the chateau. His father opened the door, smiling at him. 

“Hey, kid,” Mr. Park said, affectionately ruffling his hair. His father was wearing the same set of pajamas that Jay wore

“Dad,” Jay said quietly, “I need to speak with you.”

His father’s eyes narrowed in confusion; Jay’s expression was earnest and his tone was pleading. “Sure.”

Once they were safely inside of Jay’s room, Jay sat on his bed. His father joined him. 

“Dad…” Jay hesitated, unsure of how to word his question. Finally, he said it as plainly as he could: “How did you win Mom over? I mean…how did you approach her?”

Mr. Park’s eyes twinkled. “Has someone caught your eye?”

Jay tried to ward off his father, who was nudging him in the ribs with his elbows. “Not-not quite, Dad. Just…for the future, you know? For the future.”

Mr. Park laughed. “Sure, son.” He looked up at the ceiling as he thought, and Jay looked directly at his father. “Well, it wasn’t easy. I had to chase your mother. She was popular, beautiful, and smart, so it wasn’t an easy task. But she said that what she enjoyed was when I would send her flowers.”

“Flowers?”

His father shrugged. “She said it was such a classic gesture, it made her feel like I was more of a traditional man. Not someone who would just toy with her emotions then cast her aside like so much filth.”

“Flowers,” Jay repeated, his eyes darting around. Of course. Flowers.

“I was also honest about my intentions,” Mr. Park continued. “I knew that she was desirable, so I didn’t want to waste time. I told her how I felt and showed her my cards. That might not work for every woman, but your mother and I thought- think- similarly. And that’s what you want to find, Jay. Not someone who mirrors you, but someone who thinks just similarly enough to you that you’ll hardly argue, and differently enough that your arguments will be interesting.”

Jay smiled at his father’s joke, but he quickly became lost in thought. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I’ve got a lot to consider.”

Mr. Park ruffled his son’s hair again. “Glad I could help, sport. I hope things go well with this girl.”

Jay smiled at his father affectionately. “Yeah, me t-,” Jay’s face blanched. “I mean, there is no girl.”

His father laughed as he left the room, and Jay sighed. At least now a plan was forming, something concrete. 

– 

Jay spent his entire afternoon wandering through the forest bordering the chateau searching for flowers. He brought his thick canvas bag with him, as well as a pair of shears. Every time he saw a gorgeous flower, he snipped it carefully and placed it into the bag. Violets, white flax, buttercups, sheaths of elderberry, red and purple poppies. Jay had to work fast; he wouldn’t forgive himself if the flowers even slightly wilted before you could enjoy them. As the sun set, Jay’s fingers were caked in dirt, sweat coated his brow, but his bag was filled with various, fragrant flowers. To his delight, he realized that their scent was similar to yours, and he walked towards the grounds of the chateau with his nose buried in a handful of flowers. 

You lived in the servants’ quarters, which was a smaller house located on the edge of the premises. It was past six o’clock, so you would surely be there now, washing up. Maybe you had already changed into something comfortable. Jay darted inside of his bathroom, cleaning all of the dirt off of his nails and changing into a loose shirt and linen pants. He slicked his hair back and applied cologne. Using a light blue ribbon from a package of artisanal biscuits, he tied the flowers together into a rough bouquet. Jay arranged the flowers carefully, placing the violets at the front and tucking the elderberry flowers as accents.

Jay swallowed thickly and walked over to the servants’ quarters. He knocked on the door, and as he waited for someone to come to the door he reminded himself that he was Jay Park, the son of James Park, someone to be revered, someone to be respected. 

To his delight, you answered the door. You were wearing a long nightgown, and your smile was so soft and dreamy Jay could have melted. 

“Hello, sir,” you said, leaning your head against the doorframe. “To what do I owe this honour?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. Then he thrusted the flowers towards you. “Here. For you.”

You beamed at him, and Jay knew he would have spent a month traversing that forest if it would make you smile like that again. “Thank you.” You received the bouquet, touching the flowers delicately. You closed your eyes and took in their scent.

Jay lingered outside of your door. He felt like he was being split into pieces. He wanted to caress your hair and kiss your cheek; he wanted to barge into your house, toss you on your bed, and take what he wanted from you; he wanted to run away until he was a better man, a stronger man; he wanted to be one of the flowers you were stroking, the perfume you inhaled. 

You looked up at him. “The butler and the cook won’t be back until 8,” you said quietly. “They’re still at the chateau.”

Jay’s breath caught inside of his throat. “Is that so?” 

“Yes, sir. So if you liked, we could go inside and talk?”

Jay’s eyes glowed. “Yes, yes, of course.”

You led him inside of the small home; there was one large room that constituted the kitchen, living room, and dining room, a bathroom, and three bedrooms that were hardly more than a cot and a dresser. Yours had drawings stuck on the wall, a threadbare blanket covering the bed, and a dresser that was covered in your makeup, hairbrush, and other toiletries. Jay sat on your bed and frowned as he looked around his room. 

“What is it?” you asked, setting the bouquet on the dresser. “Not to your liking?”

“That’s not it,” Jay said, his eyes fixed on your drawings. “It’s just that you deserve something better.”

You smiled at him. “Do I? Why?”

“Why? What do you mean, why? You’re…you’re too good for this,” Jay said, gesturing wildly. 

“So where should I be?”

So many words sprung to his mind that they clogged in his throat. You should be in my bed, in my college, in that chateau, on a beach being ravaged next to the ocean, lying in a flower field, anything except being a maid. Instead, Jay looked down at his hands.

“I’ll just get a vase for this,” you said, gesturing at the bouquet. Jay nodded, and as you left he gripped his thighs and sighed. He could hear his heartbeat thumping madly, and the fact that he was in your room wasn’t making things any better. Your scent was everywhere, lingered on everything, and it set his heart ablaze. 

With a furtive glance at the door, he leaned down to your pillow and inhaled deeply. Jay moaned slightly; he wished that you would stay away for a little longer, so that he could pleasure himself in a cocoon of your fragrance. He’d leave traces of himself everywhere, in your clothes, in that maid outfit, in your underwear. Jay was considering pawing around in your drawers to find your panties when you came back with a chipped vase. You set it on your dresser and tucked the flowers inside of it carefully, not disrupting the arrangement that Jay had made. For some reason, the way that your fingers deftly placed the flowers in the vase made him shiver from arousal. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore. Three weeks now, three weeks of smelling you and seeing you and learning about you without so much as a touch. Once you stepped away from the glass vase, Jay came up behind you and grabbed your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. You seemed more curious than anything else, your arms splayed at your sides.

“I want you,” Jay whispered. “I want you so...ardently, it hurts.” With trembling fingers, he shoved your nightgown all the way up to your waist. Now, he could glimpse your panties- white, of course you wore white panties. It was like you had been designed to ruin his summer. 

Jay didn’t bother taking his pants off all the way, instead only tugging them along with his underwear down slightly. His cock was hot and already leaking precum as he looked down at you, at your gorgeous pussy that was covered in a fine mat of downy hair. You stared up at him, seemingly daring him to make his next move.

Jay spit onto his hand and coated his cock in a mixture of saliva and precum. His entire body screamed for him to enter you, ruin you, to fulfill millenia of biological hardwiring. Jay trembled in anticipation as he finally pushed himself inside of you. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. You were so warm, inviting, and silky, like you had been made for him. The small gasp you had made as he had entered you was just perfect.

He thrusted inside of you, overwhelmed by the sensation of your velvety pussy. After another stroke, he realized that his orgasm was already racing through him. 

“No, no,” Jay whispered, pulling out of you, but the friction of your pussy as he slid out of you caused him to spasm. Cum spurted out of him in humiliating globules, landing on your stomach and nightgown. 

Jay hovered over you, his eyes widened with shock. “No. No, no, no. That-that was nothing. That only lasted for, what…”

“A minute,” you replied, your face impassive. 

“A minute,” Jay repeated in horror. “Oh, my God, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry…” Jay squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. Now everything was ruined. He had come in a pathetically short amount of time. You probably didn’t feel a thing. 

Then he felt warm hands stroke his cheek, and his eyes opened. A small smile had graced your lips, and despite his despair he managed a smile too. 

“Was that your first time?” you asked quietly, tracing his lips with your thumb.

Jay hesitated, but there was no point in lying. “Yeah,” he whispered, “it was. You were.”

You nodded sympathetically. “It’s okay,” you said. 

“It…is?” Jay stared at you in awe.

Then, to his delight, you brought his head down and kissed him softly. It wasn’t rough, not the way his friends had described it- teeth clashing, tongues choking each other, hands wildly groping. This kiss was so gentle, and Jay reciprocated, his hands cupping your face. Your scent tickled his nostrils, filled his mind with a haze. 

Soon, you were licking his bottom lip, so Jay parted his lips. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and he touched it with his, once, twice. He ran his tongue over your teeth, probed into your mouth, sucked on your tongue. He wanted to memorize every inch of you. 

Jay felt one of your hands slip under his shirt, and you ran your hands over his abs. He was proud of the hardened muscle he had worked so hard to cultivate, and he could feel his pride slowly returning. Emboldened, he kissed you even more deeply, and he began to feel your breasts over your nightgown. You weren’t wearing a bra, and he could only imagine how soft they must feel properly in his hands. 

“Take it off,” you whispered against his lips. Jay didn’t need to be told twice. He undressed you slowly this time, helping you push the nightgown over your head. 

Jay groaned under his breath as his eyes flickered over your body. It was amazing. You were like Aphrodite, the Venus of Willendorf, a being designed to be admired. How could he have ever thought of thrusting into you like you were his right hand? “Turn the light on,” he said quietly. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, flicking your standing lamp on. Your body was bathed in the soft, rosy glow, painting you in colours that rivaled the work of the pre-Raphaelites. 

“Don’t call me sir,” he said pleadingly. “Call me Jay, please.” With that, he dipped his head down and kissed your neck softly. You whimpered, and the sound was like the song of an angel. He kissed you all the way down to the space between your breasts. One hand gently fondled one breast, and the other hand held your waist as he kissed the other breast. 

“Lick my nipples,” you whispered. “I like that.”

Jay did as you asked, taking one nipple in his mouth and licking it. The way it hardened was fascinating to him, and he lavished both of your nipples with attention. His hands stroked your waist, up and down, and he could feel you tremble. Jay trailed wet kisses down your stomach, sticking his tongue into your navel to make you laugh. He splayed your arms out on the bed and kissed and licked them. When he got to your hand, he kissed your palm  and your fingertips. Jay lifted your legs up and kissed them from your inner thigh to the backs of your calves to your ankles, all the way to your toes. 

You made these darling little sighs as he kissed you and touched you. “This feels great, Jay,” you sighed out. On occasion, you would tell him to pay special attention to a certain part of yourself; your inner thighs, Jay found, were a sensitive spot. He would frequently return there on his journey around your body and bite and suck at the soft flesh there. 

As Jay gripped your thighs, kissing them, you pulled at his hair so that his face was tugged upwards. 

“I want to teach you something else,” you said, looking him in his eyes. 

“What?” Jay whispered.

As a response, you parted your legs slightly. Jay could see pools of arousal leaking out of your pussy, and his cock stirred. You took your fingers and touched a small, pearly nub of flesh. 

“Do you know what this is?”

Jay had a rough idea, based on the conversations he had had with his friends. “Your clitoris?”

You smiled and nodded. “Yes,” you said, your fingers still threaded through his hair. “I want you to lick it.”

“Lick it?”

“It’ll make me feel good,” you whispered, and you gently pushed his head down between your legs. After one tentative lick, Jay was hooked. You tasted amazing, not quite sweet, not salty, but something else. Something primal and delicious. He laved your clit with his tongue, spreading your legs apart even further. 

For the first time, you moaned, a sound that made its way all the way to Jay’s gut. He kept going, lapping at that little pearl with feverish abandon. Jay pulled away after a while, worried that he was going too fast, being too rough again. “Is this okay?” he asked.

Your voice was tense and high as you said, “Yes, you’re doing amazing, Jay. It feels amazing. Keep going, keep going.”

That encouragement was all Jay needed. One hand firmly split your legs apart, and the other reached up and toyed with your nipples again. He felt you writhe and shiver as he swallowed your arousal, making circles with his tongue around your clit. 

“Jay, Jay, I’m going to, I’m going to…” A series of high-pitched moans passed through your lips and your back arched off of the bed. Jay continued licking your clit until you weakly pushed his head away. Jay stared in awe at your cunt opening and closing on its own, and he inserted a finger inside of you to feel the contractions for himself. He shivered as he imagined his cock in here, but he decided to wait until you weren’t so exhausted. 

Jay dragged himself up the bed so that he was lying beside you, and he affectionately rubbed your stomach. Your face was wet with sweat, lips parted, and your eyes were lidded. Still, that same smile was plastered on your face, and Jay wiped your face with his thumb.

“How was that?” he asked, just to hear you praise him.

“It was great,” you said weakly. “It was…wow. You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”

“Top of my classes,” Jay said with a wide grin. You playfully pushed him, and he kissed your cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t…you know… last.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. It was your first time. No one has a very good first time.”

“Did you?”

“That’s a story for another day,” you said with an eye roll. 

Jay traced your stomach with his hand again, his eyes flickering over you. After a while, he whispered, “Teach me.”

You looked at him. “Teach you…?”

“How to please you. I want you to enjoy it, too. Please?”

You glanced at him, and your eyes were so soft Jay got the sudden urge to cry. “Okay. Come on, sit up.”

Jay sat so that his legs were spread, entrapping you between them. You sat up as well, leaning against the headboard. 

“Your pants…”

“Oh, right.” Jay scrambled to take them off, and his boxers too. His cock flopped out, and he was dismayed to see that it wasn’t completely hard. He glanced at you to gauge your reaction, but your gaze was fixated on his dick. 

“How have you managed to stay a virgin with that?” Your hand rested on his thigh, rubbing up and down.

Jay’s heart swelled with pride. “Oh, well, I’m picky, I suppose. I only like the best of the best.”

You smiled softly, catching the compliment, and then your head bobbed down to his cock. His eyes drank in the sight of your wet little tongue swirling around the tip, your hands massaging his balls. Jay moaned loudly, his arms falling back to hold himself upright. “Oh, will you jack me off, too? Please.”

You obliged him, letting some of your spit trickle down his shaft before massaging it loosely. Jay leaned his head back and moaned loudly. He was so glad you two were in the little servants’ quarters and not the chateau, where the sounds would have echoed. The sloppy noises of your mouth wrapped around his tip and your hands fondling his cock, and his own moans. 

Soon, you were pulling away, and Jay was initially disappointed by the lack of his contact. You wiped your mouth and smiled at him, and his annoyances were forgotten. You shifted backwards so that you were sitting against the headboard again.

“Now,” you whispered, “come here.”

Jay crawled over to you, sitting upright as well. He pulled your legs over his, so that you were straddling him. As he waited for you to keep speaking, he caressed your smooth legs. 

“This time, be slow. You want to feel everything, feel the way I fit around you. Take your time. There’s no rush, Jay.”

He kissed you, then, his hands around your throat. Jay pushed himself inside of you again, this time noting how delicious the stretch was, how your pussy squeezed his cock mercilessly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your lips were still on his. You moaned into each others’ mouths as he bucked his hips against yours. Jay’s hands fell from your neck to your shoulders to your breasts, fondling them slowly. He grew accustomed to this rhythm, of becoming one with you, and it was better than what he could have ever imagined.

Jay gently pulled you on top of him, his back hitting the bed. He thrusted into you slowly, languidly, and you matched his movements. From this position, Jay could swirl his tongue around your nipples again as his hands groped at your ass. He pushed you down on his cock, forcing you to take his full length. Now that your moans were no longer muffled by his lips, they reverberated all over your small room. The air was thick with your scent percolating with Jay’s, your soft moans with his harsh grunts. 

Jay could feel his orgasm approaching, but he resisted the urge to pound into you. Instead, he rolled you over so that he was on top of you again. He pulled out of you and kissed you the way you liked, slowly, tongues meeting, spit dribbling down chins, hot, wet mouths sharing breaths. While you kissed, Jay’s hand worked down your body and he tried to find your clitoris again. Your hand reached out and gently guided him towards your small nub; he rubbed it in steady circles, and he relished in your whimpers. 

“Are you close?” Jay asked before pressing his lips against yours again.

You nodded, unwilling to stop kissing him. 

With that, Jay thrusted inside of you again, his fingers still playing with your clitoris. He felt powerful as he felt your back arch. When he dug his knee up slightly, he could feel your legs begin to tremble. Finally, he let himself go, rutting into you the way he had wanted from the start, his free hand  on your waist. Jay grunted as he approached his high, his eyes shutting in ecstasy. 

You came first, whining his name and clutching him tightly. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and he came with a final, primal grunt, emptying himself in you. 

Jay didn’t want to pull himself out of you. He wanted you to stay full of him, and the way you held him made him think you felt the same way.

Jay kissed your forehead and laid on top of you, stroking your cheek as you came down from your highs together.  The way you nestled your head into his neck made his heart sing, and your scent was even stronger now. He knew that he could never let go of you.

You were his summer girl.

[okay-j-hannah]

Part 1: Her Broken Heart

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: series rewrite, start of season 1 {aka 2011}, slow burn, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual pining, eventual NSFW, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, health problems, lightheadedness, fainting

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Just a note that the reader will be in the dark for a while, meaning that lots of episodes/scenes will be skipped. Also, the heart conditions/problems the reader has comes solely from extensive research and isn't meant to be completely accurate - I did my best.

Part 1: Her Broken Heart {You Are Here}

Part 2: A Lacrosse Boyfriend

Part 3: Blue Handprints

Part 4: Ollie's Catnip

Part 5: Mieczyslaw

Part 6: Orange Cream and Peachy Sugar

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Part 8: The Favor

You walk purposefully to your last class of the day, holding onto the straps of your backpack like your life depended on it. New school. Old town.

It was just so noisy.

The squeak of your sneakers was drowned by the bustle of the dozens of highschoolers weaving through the hallways. Side conversations rose in volume, laughter was piercing, lockers slammed metallically, and the morning bell rang with a sharp noise.

You avoid rubbing shoulders with your peers, but inevitably a lacrosse player rams into your side while chasing a ball. You put a hand protectively to your chest, a glimmer of pain dancing across your ribs.

Breathe, you remind yourself. Just breathe.

Walking into English, you eye the rapidly filling seats. You recognize most faces even if they don’t recognize yours. A few skittish steps forward and you spot the dark silhouette of Scott McCall.

The uneven beating of your heart seems to lessen at someone you could at least talk to amicably. He appears to feel the same as he finds your gaze and smiles crookedly.

“Hey, (Y/N),” he whispers encouragingly. “It’s nice to see you finally at school.”

You smile back, “Thanks, it’s good to be out and about.” You pick the desk beside him, closest to the window. “There’s a lot of people here.”

Scott laughs, “What did you expect?”

“Less than this,” you say, thumbing the syllabus in front of you. “I thought Beacon Hills was a small city.”

You hear a cough directly behind you, fingers drumming against the metal desk surface. You flit your gaze to Scott, but he merely rolls his eyes.

“(Y/N), this is Stiles. Stiles… meet (Y/N).”

You turn in your seat to see a closely shaved head, wrinkled hoodie, and widening brown eyes.

“Uh… hi,” he says.

You swallow hard, “Hello.” Your brow furrows, “You’re Scott’s best friend.”

Stiles nods, playing with his fingers, “Yeah, for years. And you are…?”

“Another friend,” Scott interjects, “Friend of the family.”

You feel warmth as Stiles leans forward in his seat, “A friend that I’ve never heard about?”

That made your stomach clench. Of course you didn’t have many close friends, more acquaintances than anything else, but it still scared you to think you’d be judged on that fact.

“We don’t talk much,” you say quietly, turning back around.

Scott had what you hoped wasn’t a pitying look in his eye when he got distracted by neighbors ruffling through papers; then to a pencil dropping; then to a charm bracelet clanking against a desk. With each new noise his head was whipping about.

You tried to read the first page of your syllabus when a gentle tap on your shoulder startles you. You contained the jump in your heart as you turned towards Stiles.

He spoke with a soft but urgent voice, “Are you new to the town?”

“No,” you answer shortly.

“Then how come I’ve never seen you at school before?”

“I was homeschooled until this year.” The anxious fist in your stomach continues to clench further. “I’ve lived here almost all my life.”

He continues to lean forward as the teacher rose to address the class. “How do you know Scott?”

“Our parents are friends.”

“How come he’s never mentioned you before?”

You give a breathy laugh, “Do you always interrogate newcomers or is this just your usual charm?”

He finally leans back in his seat, “I like a good mystery.”

Your smiling reply makes the corner of Stiles’ mouth quirk upward, just as the teacher declares:

“Stiles, are we really going to end the day with a detention?”

Stiles looks up, frowning, “No, sir – just welcoming a new face.”

“Yes, Miss. Westbrook. I’d suggest surrounding yourself with different company. We don’t want a tainted reputation now, would we?”

Scott put a hand to his mouth, stifling a laugh as Stiles lifted his arms in silent outrage. You are stunned but feel a giggle rise in your chest.

The teacher continues, “As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night.”

The laughter in your chest dies in a cough as you replay the teachers unfeeling words in your mind.

“And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody, which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester.”

There was a collective groan, but you had already started dating the semesters projects in your academic calendar. The different books you’d be reading were some of your favorite classics: The Scarlet Pimpernel, Jane Eyre, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Sense and Sensibility.

You could already see the outline for your midterm paper on the differences between loving with sense and loving with sensibility.

Then the classroom door opened, and a pretty girl walked in with someone from the office.

“Class, this is our new student Allison Argent.”

You silently thanked the heavens that you weren’t introduced like that to the entire sophomore class. But the introduction intrigued you. Perhaps you could befriend this new student as you were somewhat new yourself.

You met her quickly by her locker after class.

“Hello,” you say in your gentle voice, “I’m (Y/N). I’m new to the school too.”

“Oh, thank god,” Allison says, “Just when I thought I’d never survive the first day.”

You grin, “New kids on the block need to stick together. How are you feeling about the move?”

“I’m used to it,” she says, leaning against the wall of lockers, “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m not new to the city, just the school. I was homeschooled before this. Jumping into the school year in January isn’t preferable, but it’s better than listening to your mom lecture about the Pythagorean theorem while doing the dishes.”

Allison laughs just as another girl walks over to introduce herself and her boyfriend. This new face, Lydia Martin, was clearly a commanding personality. And you quickly quiet yourself as she speaks to Allison.

“So, this weekend, there’s a party.”

“A party?” Allison says, taking a step closer to you.

The boyfriend, Jackson, adds, “Yeah, Friday night. You should come.”

Allison clearly didn’t want to go, judging by how she closed herself off and turned towards you. She fumbles for something to say as you note how the two popular kids never acknowledged your presence.

“Actually, we’ve already made plans for Friday night,” you say quickly, the beating of your heart increasing as Lydia made eye contact with you. “I’m helping her finish setting up her room.”

“Who are you?” Lydia asks, surveying you with her wide eyes.

Allison interjects, “This is (Y/N), she’s new to the school too.”

Lydia seems satisfied in her findings, “Pretty.” She pulls on both of your sleeves, “Let’s go to lacrosse practice.”

You panic, “Oh, no – I actually need to head to the library. The first day came with a lot of homework.” You curse the lines of judgment creasing Lydia’s brow. “I’m sorry, I need to catch up.”

“You need to pick, sweetheart. Beauty or brains. You can’t have both in this school.”

You believe that to be blatantly untrue, but you apologize again as Allison gets dragged off. You sigh, steadying your heartbeats. Your mother will be coming soon to pick you up anyway.

~~~

It was another long evening shift at the hospital working in the clinic. You assisted with logging patients in, taking their medical histories, noting their blood pressure, and administering medications.

You were currently disposing of some items in the sharps container when Nurse McCall came around with a dirty gown and gloves.

“(Y/N)!” she says cheerfully, “How are you?”

You smile, washing your hands in the nearby sink, “Tired, but that’s not unusual.”

She gave you a motherly look, eyeing you like the nurse she was. “How’s your breathing? Have you gotten lightheaded tonight?”

“Nope.” That was a lie. “I’ve been doing great. I worked through the line waiting in the clinic. Now I’ve just got to clean up before heading home.”

She raises her eyebrows, impressed. “I wish your work ethic came in a bottle. I’d give a dose to my son.”

“Oh, you should give Scott more credit. He’s working hard on the lacrosse team, I hear.”

“Have you two… has he been…”

You give a soft smile, “He’s been talking to me in class, yes. He’s been very kind to me.”

“Good,” that seems to relieve her. “I know you’re not the closest of friends but starting school in the middle of the year can’t be easy.”

“No,” you say with a sigh, “But I think I’ve made a few friends. Scott and Lydia and Allison…”

“So are you going to the party tomorrow night?”

You give a weak laugh, “I don’t think I’m made for parties, Melissa.”

“I mean,” she laughs too, “Scott is taking Allison to that party – I figured if you’re all friends now then…”

“Oh,” you compose yourself, “No, I’m not going.”

“Shame,” Melissa folds her arms, “I would’ve liked a trusted pair of eyes on my son. I tell you he’s gotten all squirrely since coming back from winter break.”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ll check up on Allison to make sure she’s alright.”

Melissa leans over and rubs your arm, “You’ve been working like a madman since the summer. We’re all very impressed with you, (Y/N). But you have a habit of doing too much and telling us too little. You have to promise me you’ll be honest about how you’re feeling.”

You brush her off, “How many times have we had this conversation?” You take a step back, “I feel fine. The summer tuned me up. I feel I can do anything now.”

“I like the confidence,” Melissa says warmly, but she still held worry in her eyes. “I’m just looking out for you. I promised your mom.”

You grimace, “Has she been bombarding you much?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

The pair of you share a laugh, “I wish she’d stop worrying.”

“We all worry,” Melissa sighs, grabbing a new box of gloves for the nurses station. “That’s what happens when you have people that care about you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you walk around her, “I gotta go before my dad waits in the urgent care drop off too long.”

“Hey, about that…” Melissa calls after your retreating form. “I was thinking about your carpool situation and maybe you and Scott could drive together. You know – so you don’t have to rely on your parents as much.”

Anything to get more independence from your parents. “I didn’t think Scott had a car.”

“No, he doesn’t. He gets rides from his friend Stiles. Maybe you could join them?” She watches your expression grow anxious, “Or you could ask your new girl friends?”

“Yeah, right,” you snort, “Lydia and Allison live on the other side of town in those big important houses with the four-car garages.”

Melissa shrugs, “Then ask the boys. Stiles is a little… odd. But he’s a good kid.”

“Thanks, Melissa,” you give her a tired smile, “I’ll see you over the weekend.” You pull out your phone as you head to clock out.

Your connected watch reports to you the steady heartbeat you’ve had during the day – just two rapid spikes. Swiping away the health report, you text Allison and wait for her replies as you head towards your father’s car.

“So you’re actually going to the party?”

“What can I say… Scott asked me.”

You smirk, “I saw that coming a million miles away.”

“Sorry about our hangout though, I was going to tell you at school tomorrow.”

“It’s alright. I’ll just get started on the chemistry homework for next week.”

“You don’t want to come with us?”

You scoff, “And be a third wheel? No thank you.”

Your dad continues a conversation about your workday as he drove out of the hospital parking lot. “Any big cases come in?”

“No, nothing particularly stressful. Maybe one guy who was nervous around needles.”

“Good,” your dad says. “I’m proud of you sweetheart. And not a single fainting in five weeks.”

You lean your head against the window, suddenly glum, “Let’s hope it continues.”

~~~

Friday comes and you’re on the couch enjoying another read of Harry Potter. You were just getting to the confession scene in the Shrieking Shack when your mother came in with a cup of herbal tea.

“You seem a little quiet today,” she says, nestling into the opposite end of the couch.

“No more than usual,” you say, sipping the honey and herb concoction. “I usually spend Friday nights reading, mom.”

She nods, stirring her tea in thought, “Yes, usually. But in the last few months you’ve been branching out. Going to public school, getting a job at the hospital, making some new friends.”

“And while that’s all terribly exciting, I still enjoy a quiet evening with my books.”

“Of course,” your mother replies, “How have you been feeling?”

“Mom,” you groan, “I feel fine!”

She sat straighter, “You have had two dizzy spells this past week. It’s not a crime to ask how you’re doing.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I started school this week, I’m bound to be a little stressed about that, aren’t I? When I started my job at the hospital there were a few dizzy spells in the beginning, remember?”

“Yes, but you don’t tell us about them anymore. I have to pull up your watch readings to find out.”

“What’s the point? I can’t control them all. Sometimes they happen out of the blue.”

“Precisely,” she says louder, “Which is why it’s important to monitor them for your doctor’s appointments.”

You open your book in a huff, “Can we not talk about this anymore? It always puts the house in a mood.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Allison. Your mother peers over your shoulder to see if it was a notification from your health app.

“Allison is getting a ride home from the party,” you whisper, texting a reply, “I wonder what happened with Scott.”

“Weren’t they on a date?” your mother asks, relaxed now that she knew the cause of your phone lighting up.

You shrug, “I thought so. I’m going to check on her. I’m sure she’ll want to vent.” You get up with your book and find your sneakers. “Could I have a sleepover?”

Your mother battled the rebuttal of keeping you at home – to coddle you with her security. “As long as you have your medication I don’t see why not.”

“I can drop her off on my way to the firehouse,” your father says, adorning his firefighter t-shirt and cargo pants. It would appear he had another overnight shift.

Fifteen minutes later you were outside the Argent residence, Allison waiting by the front door to welcome you with her frustrations.  

The home was tall with big, open rooms full of chandelier light. It was rich with mahogany browns and beamed ceilings. Allison was guiding you up the stairs after a quick introduction to her mother in the living room.

“I just don’t understand why he left me there,” she says with an edge, “I thought he liked me.”

“I think he does like you,” you say as you enter a beautifully decorated bedroom. “We have to remember he is a high school boy.”

Allison quirks a faint smile, “But to leave me at a strangers house… he has to know I’m new to the town. I don’t know anybody well enough to get some help! And I was not about to call my parents for a ride. That would’ve been reputation suicide.”

You clear your throat, recalling every instance your parents have carted you around, refusing to let you drive yourself. “Who gave you a ride anyway?”

“Someone named Derek Hale. He said he was a friend of Scott’s.”

You feel your uneven heartbeats pick up, “Derek Hale? He’s back in town?”

“Do you know him?”

“No, it’s just…” your mind wanders to old police reports your mother talked about and past newspapers on the dinner table. “There was a fire that burned up the Hale House years ago. Most of his family died in that fire. He hasn’t been seen for years.”

Allison crosses her arms, suddenly giving herself a kind of protective hug. “You mean, he isn’t a friend of Scott’s?”

“Not that I know of, but I’m as much of a new friend here as you are.”

“But Scott said you’re a friend of the family.”

“Yes, I do work with his mom at the hospital,” you fight to keep the Hale memories at the forefront of your mind. “But that doesn’t mean that I’ve hanged out with Scott much.”

Allison nods, still gripping her arms as creases of worry etch her face. “Why would Derek lie about being friends with Scott?”

“He didn’t try anything in the car, did he?”

“No!” she says quickly, “He was really kind, even held the door open for me. He just asked about my relationship with Scott.”

You could feel the beats in your chest stutter. They were loud in your ears, “What did you tell him?”

“Just that I met him this week. I got help from him at the veterinary clinic – I accidentally hit a dog – and he asked me to this party.”

You sit on her bed, afraid that your heart rate was increasing more, “Did Derek seem interested in just Scott?”

Allison thought about it for a few seconds before sitting in her desk chair, “Yeah, it was the only thing we talked about.”

“Which would make sense if that was the only thing you guys had in common.” You put a hand to your chest, hoping to steady yourself with some pressure. “But I still don’t think him and Scott have ever been close friends.”

“That’s slightly concerning,” she says with a shaky laugh.

You return it, trying to take a deep breath without making it too noticeable. “Other than the abrupt departure and unfortunate ride home… how are you and Scott?”

A genuine smile returns to Allison’s face, “He’s so sweet. You can just tell how nervous he is and it’s so cute. After being jumped by Lydia and her friends it was nice to meet someone more sincere.”

“Lydia can be a little overbearing,” you agree, checking your watch to see your heart rate drop to a more acceptable number. “And Scott really is a sweetheart. He can be a bit of a worrier, but I find those are the ones who care the most.”

Allison likes the calming reassurance until the sound of her mother’s voice pierced the air.

“Allison! It’s for you.”

The loudness prompts the two girls to their feet. Up on the walkway towards the staircase, the pair of you had a perfect view of the door… and the boy standing out in the cold.

“Stiles?” you say confusedly.

Allison’s mother left the door open as she returned to her spot in the living room. Stiles stood awkwardly under the porch light, “Uh… yeah, hi.”

“What’s going on?” you ask, leading the way down the stairs, “Is everything okay?”

“Is Scott okay?” Allison asks quickly, following you to the doorway.

Stiles rambled, hands on his hips, “Yeah! Yeah, Scott is fine.” His eyes lingered on you as he paused. You had an instant suspicion that he was lying. “He asked that I check up on Allison since he had to run out.”

“Well, I got home all right, no thanks to him,” she replied with a huff. “But he seemed off, like he was sick all of the sudden.”

Stiles took hold of the sudden excuse, “Yes! That’s what happened. Scott just got really sick out of nowhere, like really sick – like find me a bathroom right now kind of sick.”

You wrinkled your nose at his lack of a filter, “But you said he’s fine.”

“I mean, yeah now he’s fine,” Stiles said loudly, as if that would cover up his little slip. “He met with his mom at the hospital and she gave him some… treatment.”

Your pulse was picking up again at his obvious covering up, “You know what… I told Melissa I would stop by the hospital late tonight to get my new schedule. You just reminded me,” you smile easily, putting a hand to Allison’s arm. “Raincheck on that sleepover, I don’t want to keep Melissa up all night, especially if Scott isn’t feeling well.”

“Yeah, of course,” Allison said instantly, “And would you text me if you see Scott there?”

“Sure,” you smile, “Stiles?”

He looked to you with wide eyes, “Hm?”

“Could I get a ride?”

~~~

Stiles’ jeep was old and clanky, but in an endearing sort of way. You sat with your back more against the door than the seat, arms wrapped around yourself. Your heart hadn’t stopped beating rapidly. Any faster and you were worried about another attack.

“I’m sorry the heater doesn’t work,” Stiles said with a hint of embarrassment. He smacked the dashboard, “You look cold.”

“It’s alright,” you say quietly. You try to focus on the beats of your heart, willing them to calm down before you started to get lightheaded.

“You know what…” Stiles started to flail his arms around the wheel, trying to remove his suit jacket. He banged his head against the door before straightening out, “Here.”

You look at the outstretched jacket with endearment before quietly taking it, “Thank you.” You were much more graceful putting the jacket on, smiling at how Stiles mistook your concentration on your heart rate for being cold and uncomfortable.

“Now you need to tell me where Scott really is,” you say in your gentle tone.

Stiles suddenly gripped the steering wheel, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Scott isn’t really at the hospital. And I know something is going on with Derek Hale because he lied to Allison. And I have a funny suspicion that you know more than you were telling us.”

There was a twitch in his fingers as Stiles thought about how much to reveal, “You’re right. Something’s wrong with Scott. I don’t know exactly what, but I think he ran off and got lost in the woods.”

“He didn’t give you any hint as to why he would do that?”

“He’s just been acting weird the last few days,” Stiles continued, driving slowly. “When I saw him leave tonight and Allison get picked up… I went after him. But he ran away.”

You wrap the suit jacket closely around you, giggling at how the wide shoulders stuck out on your own frame. It smelled wonderful.

“This calls for a search party.”

Stiles looked worried and frantic again, perhaps still hiding parts of the truth from you. “You don’t mind wandering the roads by the woods? I could still take you…”

“No, I want to help,” you say against your better judgement. Your heart rate still hadn’t gone down. “Let’s start on the north side closest to where the party was at.”

It was already past midnight by the time you started scouting the woods. You kept your eyes out the window, tightly bound in Stiles’ jacket. Your heart rate remained high, the lack of proper oxygen to your brain was starting to make you feel woozy.

Your mother was not going to be happy when she checked your watch monitor.

“Hey, you alright?” Stiles asked, “You need to sleep?”

You shook your head, wincing at the slow motion feeling it produced. “No, I can stay awake.”

“It’s not a problem, really. I can drop you off at home.”

“That’ll waste time when we could be searching.” You sit up straighter in an attempt to expand your lungs. “I just need to take a breath.”

Stiles kept looking towards you just as much as he was looking in the surrounding forests. “How close are you and Scott?”

“Not very,” you say, “I’ve met him a couple times with his mom. Our parents are closer than we are.”

“And you’ve lived here most of your life and yet I’ve never met you before.”

You smile, trying to anchor yourself in your surroundings. It was another attempt to control your heart rate.

The smell of Stiles’ jacket. The rough road beneath the tires. The stale, cold air of the jeep. The sound of Stiles’ investigative voice.

“I don’t get out much.”

He laughed, “Then why the sudden change?”

“I felt like it.”

“Woman of many words,” he smirked, “You said you knew Derek Hale lied to Allison. What do you know about the guy?”

You sigh, “Just a little about his past with the house fire. My mom was a part of the dispatch call that handled the case.”

“Wait, did you just say a dispatch call?” Stiles jumped in his seat, “As in, your mom is a police officer?”

“No,” you laugh at his quick movements, “She works at the front desk helping transfer calls between civilians and officers. She hasn’t been on the active force in many years.”

Stiles had a comical scrunch on his face as he thought for a few seconds, “Your mom is Angela Westbrook? Front desk Westbrook?”

You nod, a strange furrow in your brow, “And you know her because?”

“Because my dad is the town sheriff!”

“You’re a Stilinski?”

Stiles had a shock of energy zip through him, “Yes, a Stilinski! I can’t believe our parents work together.”

“Your dad has been to my house a few times,” you say, amazed at the connections. “I wonder why he never mentioned me.”

“I guess I knew Mrs. Westbrook had a daughter, I just didn’t realize we were the same age.”

The hours ticked by as the pair of you searched the woods by the road. You both thought you’d seen some flashlights and decided to avoid them. Stiles came up with the idea to search by foot away from the woods for a mile or so.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a spare flashlight in the back,” he unbuckled his seatbelt.

You sit straighter, “I mean, wasn’t there a dead body found out there earlier this week?”

“The police are handling it.” He steps out of the car to grab his flashlight.

You stay where you are, uncomfortable with the idea of standing up when your heart rate was so close to an attack. You were lightheaded enough that the rush of standing would not bode well.

Stiles came around the other side with an exaggerated expression on his face as he opened your car door. “Forgotten how to use the handle?”

“No, I’m just…” you tug on the jacket sleeves. “I’m a little lightheaded to be honest.”

“What do you mean?” his face fell into concern immediately, “Is something wrong?”

You smile shakily, “Not at all,” you lie through your teeth. “Just be prepared to catch me if I fall.”

Stiles seemed to take that with the most seriousness as he backed up and held out a hand, “I got you.”

You struggle to breathe as you clamber out of the vehicle. You hold tightly to Stiles’ outstretched hand and wait for the inevitable feeling of the blood rushing to your legs. Your head felt empty, and stars started to twinkle in front of your eyes.

Stiles held onto your hand and put an arm around your shoulders as you swayed, “Woah, you weren’t kidding. You alright?”

After a few seconds leaning into him, squeezing his fingers with light pressure, your breaths started to come easier. Your head became clearer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.” You let go of him, checking your watch to see that your heart rate decreased to an acceptable amount.

Stiles backed away quickly, rubbing his hands awkwardly down his pants. He was hesitant to look at you when he replied, “No problem. Does that happen a lot?”

“Oh, you know…” you start venturing towards the tree line, “People get head rushes when they sit too long all the time.”

“Right,” Stiles said faintly, jogging to catch up to you. He clicked on the flashlight and aimed it towards the trees. It was dark and misty and cold. The pair of you kept hearing rustlings between the tree roots and bumping into each other.

You could have sworn you heard howls and growls, but it must’ve been the wind.

“Can I ask why you weren’t at the party?”

“You can, but the answer is boring.” You cross your arms, the too long sleeves engulfing your hands. “I don’t go to parties.”

“Because?”

“Because they make me lightheaded,” you say with a smile.

Stiles tried to pick that apart, but smiled, nonetheless. “You know the more I try to get to know you, the more confusing you become.”

“I thought you liked a good mystery.”

“I do,” Stiles confirmed, shining his flashlight up through tree branches, “I don’t like not knowing things.”

“Sorry, I’m a pretty tightly sealed book,” you shrug, “I can be very evasive.”

“And I can be very persuasive,” Stiles mocked, using a silly voice.

You bump into him again, sort of on purpose and less because you tumbled on a stray twig. “You already know plenty about me.”

“Let’s check the list, shall we?” he chuckled, “You were homeschooled. Your mom works at the station. You suffer from frequent lightheadedness. You don’t get out of the house much. And you’re already a part of the pretty girls club.”

“Excuse me?” you laugh, “The pretty girls club?”

Stiles kicked at the leaves, “Yeah, you know Lydia, Allison… you.”

“Stiles Stilinski, did you just call me pretty?”

He comically puffed out his chest, “In a roundabout way, yes I did.”

You chortle, “See you know a lot about me already. We’ve only known each other three days.”

“You’ll find I can be very determined, (Y/N),” Stiles sighed, “I’ll figure you out soon enough.”

They continued their way through the woods until they came back to the car. It did not go unnoticed that Stiles went to help you open the door and climb into the tall vehicle.

The morning light was starting to peek over the horizon by the time they got back to the roads. The pair of them were starting to grow more worried by the minute. It wasn’t a friendly search party anymore.

“I hope he’s okay,” you say quietly.

Stiles looked your way before resting his hand against the stick shift between you. “We’ll find him. Or he’ll text me as soon as he gets to a phone.”

You lean towards the dashboard, “I guess we’ll find him first.”

Walking along the side of the road, pants covered in dirt and his shirt missing, was Scott. He looked ruffled.

“What happened to him?” Stiles murmured as he pulled over.

“What happened to his shirt?” you say just as quietly. Stiles shot you a look as you strip yourself of his suit jacket.

Scott came to the door and looked shocked to see you handing over the coat. “(Y/N)?”

“Scott,” you say with a smile, “Get in.”

You scoot over to be in the middle. Stiles immediately yanked his arm away as your thigh got in the way of how he was resting his hand on the stick shift. You rubbed shoulders again as Scott got comfortable.

“Long night?” you ask.

Scott rubs at his eyes, banging his head against the window, “You have no idea.” He suddenly turns to you, pressing into your side, “How is Allison?”

“She’s fine,” you say, “I’m a little more worried about you.”

“You know what actually worries me the most?” he grumbles.

Stiles licks his lips, “If you say Allison, I’m gonna punch you in the head.”

“She probably hates me now,” Scott frowns, turning to you with regretful eyes.

You take pity on him, rubbing his shoulder, “She’s upset with you, but she doesn’t hate you.”

“But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology,” Stiles says candidly.

Scott groans, leaning against the headrest. You sit scrunched between them, almost scared to lean into either one. “I hear you were really sick last night. Though I don’t see how that explains your lack of clothing.”

“Night sweats,” Scott mumbles, “When I couldn’t sleep through it at home I decided to take a walk through the woods.”

“That’s a long walk,” you say, “Don’t worry, I’ll put a good word in for you with Allison.”

“Would you?” Scott says, looking at you like you were the answer to all of his prayers. “Could you make sure she knows how sorry I am?”

You pull out your phone to send that update text you promised her. “As long as you apologize in person too, I don’t see why not.”

“You’re an angel, (Y/N), thank you.” He bows his shaggy head to your shoulder before pouting against the headrest again.

“Could you drop me off a few blocks from my house? My parents think I’m sleeping over at Allison’s.”

Stiles nods, “Protective parents?”

“A little,” you smile.

“I’ll add that to the list,” he smirks. “I’ll have to open a full case file on you now.”

“That’ll be a dead end.”

Scott opens his eyes to peer at the pair of you, “Sounds like you two had as long of a night as I have.”

You yawn, “Stilinski here is trying to play high school detective. He’s on a role trying to figure out my criminal past.”

“Criminal you say,” Stiles drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “That’ll mean I need a corkboard and some red thread too.”

“What have you found out so far?” Scott muses, somewhat enjoying the change of subject.

“Not much.” Then Stiles points a finger at his best friend, “But you’ve known her longer than me – fess up. What do you know?”

Scott holds back a smile, “Did you figure out her mom works at your dads station?” After a swift nod he continues, “And that her dad is a firefighter?”

“Really?” Stiles says dramatically, “Any siblings?”

“Only child,” Scott continues, rubbing the tired from his eyes, “And she loves to read. Every time I saw her, she was always reading something.”

Stiles had a look of triumph on his face, as if it were a breakthrough in the case, “What book you reading right now?”

“Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” You point the directions to your street, “I’m at the end when Lupin turns into a werewolf.”

“A what?” Scott says, shooting forward.

The friendly banter between you and Stiles suddenly shifts into surprise, “A werewolf. Haven’t you seen the movies?”

“Right,” he swallows hard, “It’s been a while.”

Stiles licks his lips again, “It’s ironic because last night was the full moon.”

“Oh, was it?” you hum, “That’s funny.”

~~~

You sleep off most of the weekend, having a lecture from your parents about the heart rate spike on Friday. You told them a night of rom coms and silly boy stories with Allison got you excited – that it was all fun and games.

You didn’t tell them you almost fainted because of it.

The next week was more enjoyable than the last. You excelled in your classes and spent your lunch periods reading in the library – you were already halfway through Sense and Sensibility for your midterm report.

Chemistry, History, and English were your favorite, most likely because your new friends were in those classes. Scott had become infatuated with Allison, especially after she had given him a second chance. Lydia was scheming something over her boyfriend being the captain of the lacrosse team. And Stiles was quickly becoming your highlight of each day.

He’d sit beside you during class and ask a personal question. “At least one a day,” he wagered, “I can ask at least one a day and get an answer.”

“As long as I reserve rights to refuse to answer any question.”

“I’m going to add those refusals to your case file.”

You’d roll your eyes, “Whatever you say, Stilinski.”

You were proud of the fact you hadn’t had another heart rate scare since the week before, meaning your body was adapting to the new stressful environment at school. That didn’t stop Stiles from insinuating you were going to have a lightheaded moment whenever you rose from your seat.

You never noticed how he prepared himself to grab you whenever you’d been sitting too long.

Chemistry had come around later in the week, you having arrived early to prepare the days experiment. Goggles adorning your face, you lit the Bunsen burner and tightened a flask of a chemical liquid above it.

Stiles skid over, sliding on his sneakers, “Hey, partner.” He threw his bag down and took the goggles you hand to him. He snaps them onto his face with a sharp, “ow.”

“I’ve started filling out the notes,” you say, observing how the liquid was starting to bubble with heat. “Why are you late?”

“I’m not late, you’re just early.” He sits on the stool beside you, resting his crossed arms on the tabletop. “Where were you at lunch today?”

You put a thermometer in the liquid, waiting for the right temperature, “In the library.”

“Is that where you always eat lunch?”

“You can’t eat food in the library, Stilinski.”

Stiles rubs at his nose fidgetily, “Scott and I were looking for you today.”

You pause, warmth filling your chest as you pour granules into the bubbling vial. “Sorry, I was reading for my book report.”

“(Y/N), book reports aren’t due for weeks.”

“Might as well get it done so we don’t have to worry about it,” you hum, writing down observations about the chemical reaction.

Stiles slumps a little, “Well, we missed you.”

“Scott just wants to gossip about what Allison thinks of him.”

“And what’s my excuse?”

You turn off the burner and remove the vial with tongs, “You’re trying to question me to continue your investigation.”

He sighs out a smile, “You’re right, of course. I haven’t asked you my question of the day yet.”

“I suppose I have no choice but to answer one,” you sigh with a smile on your face. “What do you have for me today?”

He was playing with his fingers when he asks, “Why do you spend lunch in the library rather than in the lunchroom with everyone else?”

You think about your answer carefully as you put away your supplies and let the vial cool down. “I don’t like being around a lot of people.”

“Why?” he presses.

You grab his goggles and snap them against his face, “Because it makes me lightheaded.”

He yelps and sways on his stool, “I’m beginning to think ‘lightheaded’ is code for something else.” He yanks the goggles from his face, and you snort at the deep lines they left around his eyes.

“Hey, there’s a science project that we need partners for,” you say as a way to change the subject. “Do you want to do it together?”

“(Y/N), we don’t have to do that project until the end of the semester.” He smiles at your antics of avoiding his questioning.

You shrug, “I like getting things done.”

He takes a deep breath, “Alright, at least I know I won’t fail the class if you’re helping me with the final project.”

After class the pair of you separate for final period, you heading to a different floor and running into someone at the bottom of the staircase. Someone tall and dark with light eyes.

That someone you recognize as Derek Hale.

You freeze on the last few steps, holding onto your backpack and feeling your heart beat unevenly again.

“You’re Derek.”

His face was cool and solemn, “What do you know about Scott McCall?”

“Why should I tell you?” Your arms erupt in goosebumps.

He steps closer, “Because I’m trying to help him. He needs to get it through his skull that I am not the enemy here. I need your influence in this.”

You hold back a scoff, fear overtaking that, “What business do you have with helping Scott?”

“Do you not know?” his eyes suddenly darken, “I thought you were one of his friends.”

“I am his friend,” you reply, “And I know people are suspicious of you.” A seed of doubt creeps up your spine, “I don’t like that a shady adult is creeping around the halls of a high school looking to make connections with students.”

He growls, actually growls much to your surprise. “I need you to tell Scott that I am here to help. I am innocent in whatever he thinks I’ve done.”

“What does he think you’ve done?” you ask quickly as Derek backs off.

“I can hear your uneven heart,” he says, turning around, “You should calm yourself.”

You put a hand to your chest, mouth agape at his retreating form. How the hell can he hear your heartbeat? A thrum of fear ripples through you as you run for your last class. You check the monitor on your watch until your heart rate was controlled before entering.

You didn’t see any of your friends until the next day. You were reading in the library over lunch again, finishing Sense and Sensibility and planning your report. You keep getting distracted by the whole situation with Derek and Scott.

What had the adult meant by befriending Scott? Why were you approached? What secret does Scott have that you didn’t know about?

You squeal as someone launches themselves over the library couch and sits beside you. Your cushion bounces as your heart leapt.

“Stiles!” you cry, “Don’t startle me like that!”

He nudges your shoulder, “Sorry, we were looking for you.”

Scott came around and sat on the arm of the couch, “It’s lunch.”

“Yes,” you say, “And I’m working on stuff in the library like I do every day.”

“No,” Stiles says, closing your book and stealing your pencil, “You’re going to join us for lunch today.”

You fight to get the pencil back, “I think I’ll just finish my report here.”

“(Y/N), there aren’t that many people in the lunchroom,” Scott says quietly, “And you’ll have us there.”

You stare Stiles down, “Did you tell Scott about my thing with lots of people?”

He shrugs sheepishly, “Come on, let’s go.” He waits as you stand, picking up your backpack for you. Scott led the way, nervous by how he wrung his hands.

“Has Allison talked about me lately?”

You shove his arm, “Scott, I can’t tell you everything we say during girl talk.”

“Girl talk?” Scott says in a panic, “I didn’t know about girl talk.”

“Yes, it’s where we drop all our juiciest secrets,” you snicker, “Including our thoughts on certain cute boys.” Scott points at himself, eyebrows raised, making you laugh. “Yes, Allison has been saying good things about you.”

Stiles matches your stride, “What about me?”

You look at him with a wide smile before leaning into Scott with another laugh.

“What? I’m a cute boy,” Stiles says, flabbergasted. “Aren’t I?”

They walk into the lunchroom that was still full of students. You spot Allison and Lydia sitting at the popular lacrosse table. Stiles, your backpack still on his shoulder, nudges you to one of the front tables.

Sitting down, Scott kept peering over at the back of Allison’s head. “See it’s not so bad in here, (Y/N).”

The patter of your heart would say differently, but you sit next to Stiles, nonetheless, pulling out your book report.

“I did mean to come talk to you guys about something that happened yesterday.” The boys lean in, eager for any strange story. “Derek Hale came to talk to me.”

Stiles slips out of his chair and crashes to the ground; Scott was stunned, “Derek Hale? Where?”

“On my way to my last class yesterday. He was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.”

Stiles crawls back onto his chair, winded, “He was inside the school? What did he want?”

You shrug, twiddling your pencil, “He wanted me to convince Scott that he was a friend. He said he was innocent, whatever that means.”

The boys share a look. You start outlining your report, “And I don’t know why but I think I believe him.”

“No, (Y/N), listen…” Stiles pulls on your shoulder so you would face him. “You cannot trust that guy. Whatever you do, do not be alone with him again, got it?”

“I don’t get it, why?”

Stiles licks his lips, urgent in the way he looks at you, “You need to trust me on this. If he tries to talk to you again, call me.”

“I would if I had your number,” you laugh. The boys pull out their phones immediately to exchange numbers. You snort at their seriousness, “If you wanted my number that bad you could’ve just asked instead of coming up with this elaborate Derek Hale story.”

“We’re not making it up,” Scott says, “That guy is dangerous.”

~~~

At the end of the week you were busy with your shift at the hospital. You had just finished checking on Jackson Whittemore who had a dislocated shoulder, and you were logging notes into the computer at the nurses station.

You were just updating a patient file when a hand slams onto the counter. You jump, clutching your chest.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles!”

Stiles was shocked at seeing you there, “Do you work here?”

“Yes, and for the love of god please announce your presence like every other normal human being and stop scaring the ever living daylights out of me!” It was a good thing they were in a hospital because your heart was about to give out.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says with wide eyes. He rubs at his face, hiding a smile, “This is how you know Scott’s mom so well.”

“Yeah, add it to my case file,” you wave a hand, fixing your scrub top, “Why are you here?”

His eyes linger at something on your chest, making him stutter, “Um… Scott and I were uh… coming to check up on Jackson.”

“That’s right, you’re all on the lacrosse team. I heard it was Scott that knocked Jackson’s shoulder out of place.”

“That would be correct,” Stiles laughs nervously, scratching at the back of his head. “Is he alright?”

You smirk, nodding towards the end of the hallway, “See for yourself.”

Lydia had come to pick Jackson up, and the pair of them were currently making out in the middle of the hall. You turn away, slightly nauseous, but Stiles keeps observing like he’s never seen a kiss before.

“She’s never been subtle,” you grimace.

His mind seemingly elsewhere, Stiles fumbles for something to occupy himself with as he waits. He picks up a pamphlet on the menstrual cycle.

“Where is Scott?”

Stiles was stuck on a diagram of the uterus, “Hm?”

“Scott,” you say again, staring at the pamphlet cover, “I thought you said you were both looking for Jackson.”

“He went to find his mom first.”

You squint your eyes, “Melissa’s shift ended two hours ago.”

“Could you explain to me the function of the fallopian tubes?”

You snatch the pamphlet away from him, “What are you two hiding?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Stiles says nervously, “Don’t you have other patients to see or something?”

“First Derek Hale is telling me that Scott is keeping a secret and then you’re here covering for Scott while he snoops…”

“Who said anything about snooping?”

You stand from your chair, leaning towards the counter and Stiles, “Listen, I’m glad we’re finally friends. I like you guys. But I won’t be lied to forever. I deserve better than that.”

Stiles feels his chest collapse a little, sinking in on himself. “I could say the same thing about you. You’re always keeping things to yourself and giving vague answers to my questions. What do you have to hide, hm?”

A pang of hurt hit your chest, “Stiles, I’ve never lied to you about anything. If I don’t want to answer a question outright because it’s too personal, I tell you so. I’ve never hid something from you deliberately by lying to you.”

Stiles bit his tongue, folding his arms defensively.

You let the hurt show on your face, “I think you and Scott have been lying to me for a long time. About the party that Scott ran out on. About why you checked up on Allison last week. About your trust issues with Derek Hale. About what you and Scott are doing in the hospital right now…”

The will to argue was gone in Stiles, he just looks defeated as he watches the hurt fill your face. “It’s been for your own protection.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you whisper angrily.

Scott suddenly appears by the counter, out of breath. “Hey…” he saw your face, “Oh, hey what’s up?”

“Find what you were looking for?” you ask sourly before returning to your keyboard.

Scott shares a look with Stiles before muttering, “Yeah, uh… Jackson’s alright.”

“He left a few minutes ago.”

Stiles turns around to see that Lydia and Jackson really had left. He tugs on Scott’s arm and gave an imploring look towards you.

“I promise we’ll explain everything eventually.”

You keep looking at your computer screen, ignoring the words. Stiles flickers his eyes to what he noticed on your chest, just along the edge of your scrubs. Scott knits his brow as he listens to what was unmistakably the uneven pounding of your rising heart rate.

Stiles led the way to the elevators, cursing himself and smashing the downward button.

“What was that about?” Scott whispers.

“(Y/N)’s mad at me,” he rubs at his eyes harshly, “Mad at us. She knows we’re hiding stuff from her.”

“For her own good.”

“Yeah, but she sees it as us lying to her. I don’t blame her for being upset. We’ve been pretty crappy friends keeping her at arm’s length.”

Scott frowns, walking into the elevator, “You forget that keeping her in the dark keeps her safe.”

“Well, not anymore with Derek roping her into it.” He leans against the wall, holding tight to the railing. “Did you notice the scar on her chest?”

“No,” Scott says, “But I did notice her heartbeat. It was all over the place. She must’ve been really upset.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, “Did you find anything in the morgue?”

~~~

The next evening you drove with your mother back to the hospital. You were still aching with the argument you had with Stiles. You knew something was going on between him and Scott, but you still didn’t know what.

Your mother sensed your mood and said in a cheery voice, “We made an arrest today about that woods murder.”

“Did you?” you say in a quiet tone.

“Yeah, Derek Hale. He’s been back in town for a couple weeks. I guess there was evidence on his burnt property.”

You close your eyes, thinking back to the warning about Hale. “Good thing you got him.”

“And then I got a strange call on dispatch today from the Sheriff’s son.”

“Stiles?” you say.

She hums, “He’s one strange kid.”

“Does he call dispatch often?”

“He’s not allowed to anymore, but he did call today about a dog sighting.”

You shake your head, “You’re right, he can be real strange.”

“Are you sure you can’t make the big game tonight?” your mother asks. “Everyone is going, even the Sheriff.”

“I can’t. I’m helping on Melissa’s floor since she took it off to see the game.”

“That’s right,” she replies, “Shame. I’m sure your friends would’ve liked to see you in the stands.”

You turn in your seat, staring your mother down, “I thought you’d object to me watching a heart racing game surrounded by loud, rowdy people, standing in the frigid cold air.”

She shrugs, “You’ve been proving yourself capable of handling your heart rate, even when it’s the spur of the moment.”

A sudden warmth creeps up your chest. Your mother was starting to trust you despite the illnesses. It was just enough of a mood shift to prompt you to text Scott and Stiles good luck at the game.

The shift was long and grueling; you were exhausted by the end of it. Another medical assistant drove you home late, no doubt long after the lacrosse game was over. You made a mental note to commend Melissa for handling such a difficult floor of the hospital.

Your mom had been called away because of a case update and your father was on an overnight shift at the firehouse again. You were quick to shower the nights worth of patient grime off your body and throw your scrubs right into the washer.

You were just applying lotion in your pajamas when something hit the glass of your window. Startled, you stood from your bed and waited for it to happen again.

A small pebble flew through the air and pings against your window.

Peering through the glass, you saw a disheveled, sweatshirt-wearing Stiles holding a handful of your garden rocks. He waves at you shyly as you struggle to slide the window open.

“What are you doing?”

Stiles holds up his hands, “Seeing if you were awake.”

“And you couldn’t think to text?” you say incredulously, “Put those rocks back.”

He threw his handful of rocks on your mothers tulips, “My phone died like an hour ago.”

You stood there, leaning on your windowsill, regarding him with a soft expression. He looks tired and scared, eyes looking up and imploring as he stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“Then what’s up?” you ask.

He swallows hard, the cold air making his breath come out in icy clouds. “I wanted to talk… about what you said yesterday.”

“How did you know where I live? You dropped me off at the end of the street, remember?”

“Well, yeah,” he chuckles, “And I just watched you walk to this house.” He scratches the back of his head, “Or maybe I looked up your mom on my dad’s computer and found her employee records.”

You nod your head slowly, “That sounds about right.”

“Can I… Can I come up?”

You bite at your lips, hair still wet from the shower. “Sure.”

It was like letting a dog off a leash. Stiles frantically jumps to the garden trellis growing on the front of your house. He struggles past the vines and up the wooden ladder, ignoring your calls of disapproval. He was huffing and puffing by the time he made it to the roof and next to your window.

“Stiles,” you say in your gentle voice, “My parents aren’t home. You could’ve come through the front door.”

His mouth was dry from panting in the cold night air, “Right, but that wouldn’t have been as impressive.”

You watch his fumbling figure fall from the window and onto your carpeted floor, “Yeah, that was real impressive, Stilinski.”

There was only a side table lamp on, lighting the bedroom in a soft peachy glow. You went to sit cross-legged on your bed, patting the covers in front of you for Stiles to sit.

He fixes his shirt, taking your offer before looking you in the eye. “(Y/N), I wanted to say that I was sorry.”

You look towards your hands, playing with the edge of your comfy pajama shirt. You could smell the fruity scent of your lotion still on your fingers.

“I didn’t realize our covering up was so obvious to you. We just wanted to protect you, but I guess it does seem like we betrayed your trust.” He keeps his eyes on you, waiting for you to look at him again, “When I got your good luck text I thought maybe there was still a chance you weren’t super angry with me.”

“Just a little,” you say quietly, giving him a soft smile.

“I wanted to tell you some things that we’ve been hiding from you,” he holds his hands up, “As a peace offering.”

You shake your head, “How generous of you.”

“The body that was found in the woods… Scott and I found it. Us visiting the hospital? That was Scott and I trying to find evidence on the partial body. Derek Hale? He had been seen on the property where we found the other half of the body. He was also in the woods with the first half. We were suspicious of him, and he was basically stalking us because of it.”

You listen carefully, your heartbeat was loud in your ears. “And when he came to talk to me?”

“That terrified us. We thought he was a murderer, and he was talking to you… alone.”

“You thought? My mom told me he was arrested today for the murder.”

Stiles rubs at his face with a tired hand, “Not anymore. The coroner’s said the cause of death was from an animal attack. And the victim was Laura Hale – Derek’s sister.”

“Must be nice having your dad be the sheriff,” you smile. “So Derek’s innocent like he told me he was.”

“I still don’t trust him. He’s not telling us everything. And since we’ve gotten him thrown in jail, my guess is he’s not very happy with us.”

You nod, your head clearer than it was at the beginning of the week.

“Is that everything you’ve been hiding?”

Stiles licks his lips, a nervous habit you’re realizing. “Do you remember when you said you don’t lie, you’re just honest about not sharing the whole truth?” At your nod he continues, “There is one more thing, but it’s not fully my thing to tell. We want to tell you, but it’s not exactly safe at the moment.”

You take the cryptic words and stew with them for a while. “Apology accepted.”

He let out a deep breath, “Thank goodness. Scott would have never forgiven me if we lost our one connection to the pretty girls club.”

You punch his shoulder and laugh, “The one thing I’m good for… gossip from the girls.”

Stiles rubs his shoulder, “That’s not why we want you around.” He clears his throat at your sudden undivided attention, “What I mean is… you’ve been a good friend, and we like you.”

“You and Scott,” you smile.

“Yeah, me and Scott.”

“Scott and I,” you correct, brushing the wet hair from your face, “How was the game?”

Stiles sat more relaxed on your bed, “It was great, we won. And there weren’t any injuries like Jackson’s.”

“Good,” you smile, “And Scott had a pretty victorious after party, so I’ve heard.”

“Allison texted you?” Stiles questions.

You shrug, “Of course. She said you were watching like a little pervert.”

Stiles chokes on his gasp, “I am not…” 

“You were watching Lydia and Jackson too. There’s a trend I’m noticing,” you tease.

He shoves your crossed knee, relishing in your laugh, “Very funny.” He eyes the neckline of your pajama top, searching for the edge of the scar he noticed yesterday. “Can I ask you my one personal question of the day?”

“Fine,” you sigh, “Ask away.”

“Where did you get that scar?” he nods towards your chest.

You immediately clam up, covering the spot protectively. “I got it over the summer.”

Stiles raises his eyebrows, egging you on, “How?”

“I had a surgery.” You watch the concern begin to etch into Stiles’ face. “I don’t like talking about it.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, blinking rapidly as he tries to compute the information, “But you’re okay now. The surgery helped you be… healthy?”

“For the most part,” you say quietly, “The surgery did help me be healthier.” You could already see the cogs turning in his mind. He was going to head home and research what surgeries would leave scars like that on the side of the chest.

His eyes wander your room for a minute before landing on your nightstand. There were three different sized prescription pill bottles resting there. He returns his gaze to you, but didn’t ask further questions, “So I was thinking… how about I give you rides to school from now on.”

You let out an anxious smile, grateful he didn’t press you about your health problems. “Honestly, that would be great.”

“Good,” he seems pleased with himself, “And in return for gas money, you come to our lacrosse games.”

You outstretch a hand, “Deal.”

Stiles takes your hand to shake and instantly blurts, “You smell really good.”

You laugh, “I did just shower.”

He awkwardly lets go of your hand, standing from the bed, “No, you always smell good.”

“Thanks Stilinski.”

[forzaferraris]

NOTHING MATTERS — op81

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! engineering intern! reader

summary: the best way to get over someone who broke your heart is to get under someone else and (unintentionally) break theirs. / inspired by nothing matters by the last dinner party, listen on spotify here !

style: primarily written with a single smau element at the end.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, smut, unprotected sex ((p in v) please wrap it before you tap it)), oral (m! receiving) finger sucking, sub/don undertones but nothing serious, i swear on my life oscar piastri is a grunt and groaner but simultaneously considerably vocal during sex (i will die on that rock), afab! reader, readers kinda uncaring about who she hurts because she’s hurt, reader is referred to as she/her, miscommunication trope, oscar piastri has been in love with reader since the beginning of the season and just assumed one-sided pining. authors refusal to write with capitals, you can pry them out of her cold dead hands.

faceclaim: sofia dirado, although feel free to imagine reader as anyone else.

word count: 4.1k +

YOU WERE NO STRANGER TO HEARTACHE.

you fear it followed you around more often than not, like a dark cloud that covered your entire existence in this bubble of heartbreak that nothing ever felt good to you, nothing was ever worth it. from your parents divorcing after years of suffering in a loveless marriage to every single relationship you’d ever been in never making past the first time you sleep together — you’ve genuinely felt about giving up on life, going so far as to consider a life as a celibate nun or maybe not, perhaps just the life of a girl who burns through multiple packs of AA batteries using her rose toy.

however, when you’d met levi, your first year of finally being allowed to leave the mclaren technology centre to shadow tom stalland during the 2023 f1 season. you genuinely thought this man had reshaped your entire perspective of love, he made love easy, made loving him feel less like a sport and more like a hobby you could never get sick of, being with hom felt like you’d been going through all the “firsts” all over again, like a cheesy romance movie monologue.

and yet, here you are, sat in your hotel room after the japan gp, suzuka has always been your favourite gp to watch and unfortunately for some reason, instead of standing in the mclaren garage doing your job, you’re sat clad in your team clothes (a stark contrast to the white bed linen) and sobbing over a text message paragraph explicitly telling you that levi has decided to break up with you after he fell in love with someone else during the summer break, someone who “rewired his brain chemistry in a ways you could never do.” you want to get angry, you wish you were an angry person, instead when you got angry you cried, when you got too happy or even just laughed too hard you cried, you were a crier.

your heart is heavy, as you scroll through the other woman’s posts, she’s gorgeous, and that’s where you begin your myriad of self deprecating comparisons of you to her. you doom scroll for what feels like forever until you spiral even further down the heartbreak rabbit hole, your attention drawn to the fact that levi had both unfollowed and removed you as a follower at some point between when he said goodnight and then broke up with you the next day. you watch as stories of their summer break spent together is shared and your jealousy sends you into a blind rage that you block the both of them; because ultimately you knew that he will hold her life he used to hold you — for levi was boring, a one trick pony you’re only just now coming to terms with.

your disheveled appearance and self imposed seclusion from the events of the day were not left unnoticed, you’d resigned yourself to just stand on the outskirts, occasionally moving to sit down and watch the screens as the friday practice begun, you’re uninterested, unmotivated and trying your dandiest to not cry, for the sole reason of simultaneously not wanting to draw unwanted attention to yourself and the fact that the mascara you’re bought at the duty free at the airport was most definitely not waterproof.

the good thing was that you’d be in japan for the rest of the weekend, the worse thing was you knew not s language lick of the language — sure you could probably call someone an idiot in japanese thanks to the sheer amount of one piece you’d watched eith levi during days he didn’t want to do anything you had planned or suggested; however, the single knowledge of know the word idiot in japanese will not get her very far. you’re almost too zoned out to notice the first free practice had finished, oscar’s team engineer tom standall dismisses you, tells you that whatever happened before you came to track is to be sorted out before it potentially jeopardises a race and without a word or argument against hai decision you shuffle out of the garage and into the paddock.

“name, hey wait — wait up” a voice you’ve only heard considerable muffled by a racing helmet and through large oversized noise cancelling team gear headphones when you got to play pretend engineer whenever it was during his practice laps and his qualifying laps, it sends a shiver up your spine, always has and you’re unknowing if it always will.

“oscar? hey! you did so good today, from what i say, p3 is so awesome how are you not more elated about that!” you’d found yourself smiling, wide across your face and sinking into the gentle rhythm of the conversation with oscar. the smile he returns is equally as wide as if his whole face were smiling, you want to punch him — the cuteness aggression playing devil on your shoulder.

“oh nah, i am actually it just hasn’t like kicked in gully yet, i’m waiting for the full body visceral reaction i’m about to have,” he pauses for a brief moment, hands itchy to fiddling with something snd find solitude in dragging one hand after the other through his tangled and sweaty hair. “like just, honestly, jesus christ and in japan of all places fuckin’ hell” he seems both simultaneously out of breath and ready to compete in a marathon.

had it not been a considerably formal setting you swore you can picture him jumping up and down on the spot whilst trying to contain all of his excitement, you allow him to be excited not wanting your own mood and misery to overshadow his complete and utter elation at his podium win. it’s the first time in the few days you’d been moping about that the smile you give off reaches your eyes and oscar’s always paying attention to these things, unbeknownst to you of course.

“your excitement is infectious, surely the team have planned something celebratory for you! you’ve gotta celebrate this i’m sure lando is!” you can’t help but practically beam, you’re mesmerised by the excitement the unashamed amount of happiness this boy is oozing and the bitter feeling in your stomach over it all is just barely going by unnoticed.

oscar shakes his head, overs a tiny shrugs and barely gets another word into the conversation you teo ate having before he’s whisked away by the team to be dragged off towards the podium, you watch as he shakes the bottle of champagne onto lando and max. any and all brief untouched moments of happiness are immediately replaced when your phones buzzes, a notification alert from your ring door bell and the video supplied of your now ex boyfriend grabbing whatever stuff he’d left at your apartment. the situation just breaks your heart even further than when with the whole of the mclaren team being called upon for s group shot with both the boys and their podium wins you ignore it and decided you’d had enough of it all.

the hotel’s quiet as you tap your keycard against the inside of your hand waiting for the elevator to come back down, the traffic from the track back to the designated hotel meant you’d wound up leaving just as all the other drivers had and whilst you weren’t in the mood to face anymore interactions you were lucky to bypass the small group of fans loitering in the hotel lobby. the elevator itself is slow, like most and the way your stomach drops at the incline is almost akin to how you felt when you’d first received that break up text at the start of the week.

if there was one thing you were thankful for, it was the fact the hotel had a bar just off the lobby, which is where you’d found yourself, skirt a little too short, shoes a little too high and too the perfect amount of booby that you won’t get in too much trouble but also attract someone willing to take away the ache in your chest for the night.

you’d been sat at the bar for just under an hour, occasionally chatting to some of the other patrons but mostly the bartender herself; the paper straw mushy and impossible to drink out of sits on a napkin as you sip on the glass uncaring or the lipstick mark on the rim or the smudging it does to your own lipstick — in fact you’re hoping something else smudges the lipstick further if the night doesn’t continue to progress as slowly as it is.

“can i get a beer, whatever you’ve got in the bottle and another one of what she’s drinking” there it is again, the chill on your spine and the heightened sense of the hand that brushes past your ear to give the bartender a bank card. every single nerve ending in your body is on fire when the stool beside you in moved and a body now begins to occupy it, perhaps you’re a bit drunk, you’d already had two of these and what if the different alcohol consumption laws you’re unsure how much alcohol is actually in the fruity little cocktail you’d ordered.

“oscar piastri, i thought i told you to go celebrate your podium with lando, why are you still at the hotel?” there is is, a tone you’d never thought you’d use with someone who wass essentially your bosses boss, which therefore makes him your boss, and yet here you are — sultry tone and lips loosened by the alcohol in your system, shamelessly flirting with him.

“well, you see, i’m more of a pub person than i am someone who prefers nightclubs and being touched and bumped into by random strangers, i fear that’s more of a lando thing than my own” oscar laughs, the way he’s relaxed and carefree shows signs he did however, get roped into pregaming with lando beforehand, the neck of the beer bottle sits between his index and middle fingers, a comfortable position one you're sure would feel weird if you so much as tried to mimic.

you fear you're done for when it comes to watching the way his throat bobs as he takes a swig of the larger, it's a japanese brand one you've never heard of nor tried and you can tell oscar hasn't by the way his nose scrunches at the taste, he still continues to drink it though. time seems to float by, growing continually more comfortable with one another to the point you'd sauntered away from the bar stools and are sat perhaps not even an inch apart in a booth in the corner.

"favourite race destination, so far?" "monaco. most definitely, melbournes a close second, but that's just because of a personal bias" "personal bias?" "yeah. . . you."

you'd never thought to combine the flavours of japanese beer and strawberry liqueur, and yet here you were, back-pressed and arched up against the wall beside a hotel room that not yours, the elevator ride was one stop too long to have it be that you'd gone back to your hotel room, hands, not your own, are roaming places never thought to be touched, the bluntness of their nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs has your separating from the kiss to lean your head back and full indulge in the simple pleasures received in this moment. arousal builds when soft lips find the pulse point in your neck, your choice signature scent perfume the most aromatic in that area brings a subconscious reaction from oscar, the thigh between your legs juts up and you also convulse right then and there, your own hands ove from holding the back of his neck to drag through his soft, product-free hair, tugging on the last few strands that slip through your fingers.

the beep of the room door unlocking pulls you to your senses, and a hand tight around your waist drags you inside, you cling onto him in the worst way possible, you can see the smudges of lipstick on the corners of his mouth and god, does he look beautiful. you're unsure for a moment, even if the alcohol had loosened you up a little, you still didn't know how to react around oscar, he's looking at you in a way you can't describe, it makes your stomach flip and you're eager, thighs clenching to distribute the friction of your building arousal. you want his lips on yours again, there's zero space between you, you're simply sharing each other's breath.

his hand finds the back of your neck, tangled in your darkened locks and pulls you back in for a kis, is soft, he must moisturise your brain supplies before it fizzes out, the kiss is messy, all teeth, tongues and spit. you whimper into the kiss, knees buckling, your own hands are on a mission sliding under the hem of his shirt to perfectly feel the warmth that radiates off his skin against your cold hands, you can feel the exact moment your cold touch makes him hiss into the kiss and it finally ignites the fire in your stomach. this is what you want.

you two remain lip-locked until your chest hurts and you've traded the same breath back and forth that it's completely died, when you pull away, you finally take notice of the blown-out pupils staring down at you. his a look entirely of lust, desire, arousal and it shows, especially with the bulge in his pants. your bottom lip finds sanctuary in between your teeth when you raise an eyebrow and one of your hands slips out from under his shirt to palm him through the cargo shorts he'd donned to wear.

if oscar's voice sent a shiver down your spine, the way he groaned at your touch against his bulge chilled you from the inside out, the noise rough and gravelly like he'd not uttered a word in weeks, it's deep and low in his chest that you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't practically flush against him. your hand continues to palm him, making riskier moves as your other hand moves to dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants, you don't wait, you don't even need to ask for permission when his own hands are practically shucking off his own clothes for you.

he looks so gorgeous standing right in front of you, the wet patch you can only assume of precum on the front of his boxers has you licking your lips involuntarily, you try to ignore the voices, fight the urgers but you're but a simple girl, eager to please, that you're flicking your gaze up at him as your sink to your knees, the carpet is soft enough against you but you know better and are already seeing the red marks you'll have the next morning.

oscar looks confused for you in the briefest of moments, your nails dragging along his thighs, soft blonde hairs tickle your finger tips and you bite back the sweet giggle you want to let out as you're finally tugging his underwear down. a moment of shock halts your movement, eyes flicking up and down between oscar's gaze and his cock, tip pink, throbbing and leaking — it's a sight to be seen and you're the one who gets to gaze upon it.

your hand wraps around him, fingers barely meeting at the girth and you moan, can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth, your oral fixation working into overdrive, a single flick of your wrist has a louder groan rolling out of oscar's mouth, a quick "fuck" followed after it that as you once again clenching your thighs. your hand sets an easy rhythm, tried and true, one that allows for long strokes at a steady pace and your thumb to swipe between the slit on his tip that has his stomach clenching. his own hand grabs at your hair, both for something to hold onto and to keep it out of our face when you inch closer and allow your tongue to tease his tip with small kitten licks.

"fuck, fuck, name, fuck suck my cock"

the verbalised plea is all you need to finally wrap your lips around the swollen head, the saltiness of his precum mixing with your spit as you moan around him, your tongue swirls around his tip every time you pull back, only to resume bobbing your head and matching the movement of your hand to the pace you set as you take more of him in your mouth, your mouth feels so full and you can practically feel his dick pulse against your tongue when your other hand moves to squeeze his balls.

"holy shit — where did you learn that, fucking hell"

you smile when you pull away, uncaring of the drool that rolls down your chin, oscar seems not to mind either when he's pulling you back up to kiss him, your hand still stroking him slowly. he can taste his pre cum still on your tongue and as someone who'd assumed he wouldn't be fond of the idea, seems more or less enjoying it solely because it's coming from your mouth. his tongue overpowers your own and he's licking in your mouth with such severity that you can feel your own wetness pooling in your panties, had you been horny before you were now basically unbearably horny at this point.

your clothes feel bothersome, and your top and bra come off rather quick once your legs meet the edge of the bed you'd been pushed back against. the cool air of the hotel room meets your nipples and you gasp out once oscar's hot mouth chooses to settle on one and his hand favours the other. it's magic, that's what you can choose to blame it on, with the way oscar's fingers tug and twist one nipple all whilst his mouth and suck away on the other, your back arches up against him when his teeth graze the sensitive bud and you swear you could achieve your first orgasm of the night just from that alone.

his mouth switches to give the same treatment to the other nipple and yours that tug and pull on his hair only urge him on more, whining and desperate and what you want to happen is not happening. you need him, you crave him, you desire him.

"please oscar, fuck me"

there is it, the words oscar had been waiting to hear since you'd kissed him, and who would oscar be if not someone who listened when he was asked to do something. he sits up on his knees, jerks himself a couple of times as he watches you, skirt rugged up to your hips, a perfect picture, a sight for sore eyes, so beautiful, all for him to bare witness too. you back arches, your eager and needy and positively soaked you don't even need to touch yourself to know, your panties are finally pulled off and you hiss at the air that hits your center. you're clenching around nothing, sticky and sweet, eager, he looks up as your and you nods a final confirmation before you supply a weak "please" before his tip is aligning with your entrance and he's sliding in.

the stretch is everything to you, he is perfect, your hand stretching splayed out against the pillow as the tiniest whine falls from your lips, oscar grunts, face and chest flushed, you can hear exactly how we you are just from the squelch when he finally bottoms out and you moan loud enough that if anyone had been walking past the room they would have heard. oscar doesn't move, allowing for your pussy to stretch and get comfortable around him before you nod, rolling your hips to signal him to move and move he does.

"you're so tight, holy shit."

his hips rock back and forth into you, it's slow and sensual something you hadn't expected, your legs shift and wrap around his hips and your body rocks back against his thrusts willing him to move faster. unlike past partners, oscar seems to get the hint almost instantly as he pulls out and shifts slightly, hand holding onto your hips before he's sheathed himself back into you entirely in a singular thrust.

you moan out, toes curling and your legs wrapping around him so tight as if you'd practically become some sex-fueled boa constrictor. you swear his muscles are working overtime as his abdomen flexes with every deep thrust inside you, your body abuzz with electricity, the fire in your stomach scorching as a particular thrust has him hitting your g-spot and your back arching receptively.

in a world where you'd thought this was ever possible, all imaginations and scenarios have proven wrong already as oscar's thumb finds solace on drawing circles on your clit, causing your pussy to clench around him and a hiss to drag itself from his lips. to oscar you feel amazing and the flush on your face perfect evidence of his inability to be shy about telling you so and all you can do is ooh and ahh in return. something pulls in your stomach when he bottoms out in you again, your leg twitches and you're hyperaware that you'd just orgasmed around him, vocalising how it feels and your back arching however, his hips remain relentless only to come to a halt as he pulls out; your words are stopped as you're flipped over with a gentle tap against your thigh.

arms stretched out in front of you and your back arched, give oscar the perfect view to just take a moment to stare at your fluttering pussy, clenching around nothing as you suffer through a partially stunted orgasm. fingers drag through your folds and your body jerks at the sensitivity, the dip between them, pumping in and out similar to the rhythm he kept previous, his middle finger hooks and your face is thrown forward into the pillow as it hits the spongey feel of your g-spot, you gasp out hand white-knuckling the pillow as he focusses his fingers on that one particular spot

"fuck osc – fuck want you back inside me"

you don't bother with caring much about how whiney and desperate you'd begun to sound, throat dry from the gasping and the continuous noises he pulls from you, your tempting him, ass swaying as he chuckles, pulling his fingers out, he coo's at you as you whine to mourn the loss of the feeling, teases you as he slips the tip of his dick through your flushed red folds and bottom out with a quick hard thrust. you scream out, the pleasure perfectly combining with the sudden stretch to make the sweetest mixture of pain and pleasure you'd ever felt and to silence you, the fingers he'd just fucked you with had found the way into your mouth and if there was one thing you were, it was a good girl.

the sounds reverberating around the walls of the hotel room are borderline pornographic, the new pace oscar has set, deep and hard, skin slapping against skin as he practically bounces off you, his free holding your hip steady as your own knees buckle and you can feel the way his dick pulses inside you, the way his movements become sloppy yet still hitting your pleasure spot every time. the fingers in your mouth licked clean of your own arousal now replaced to be covered in your own drool. oscar grunts, his hips snapping against you in a final thurst as he slumps forward to press the most delicate of kisses to the nape of your neck as he feels you up and you cum around him for a second time.

it's messy, whatever hadn't spilt inside you now jerked off onto your back as your knees give out and you slump against the bed. worn out and woozy you're hardly paying attention to oscar cleaning up, the warm washcloth drags along your hot, sticky and sweaty skin in a way that twists your brain and brings out the regret that seeps into your stomach, had your legs not been feeling like they weren't attached to your body you would have scrambled to get dressed and done the walk of shame back to your own hotel room; however, you stay, regretfully.

you don't cuddle, oscar tries not to act hurt about it as you roll over and away from him when he finally climbs in himself. to you this didn't matter, you fucked him, like nothing matters. come the morning you'll be gone before he wakes. because this didn't mean a thing. to you as least.

yourusername just posted . . . ♫ nothing matters . the last dinner party

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oscarpiastri oh.

authors note: please excuse my smut skills, i'm rusty a lil ngl. i love a bittersweet ambiguous ending. if this gets enough recognition and asks, i'll definitely more than likely make a part two or even multiple parts. reminder, if you weren't tagged it means i couldn't find your account.

add yourself to the taglist here !

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[arc-misadventures]

Jaune MFK silver eye: Ruby, Summer, Maria (young)

Jaune: MFK XVI

Yang: Hey, Jaune?

Jaune: Hi, Yang. You okay? You look nervous.

Yang: A little... Ruby, just put me up to something, and I just feel nervous doing it...

Jaune: What did she put you up to?

Yang: ...

Yang: Jaune... MFK, Ruby Rose, Summer Rose, and Maria Calavera!

Jaune: What?! Where is this coming from?

Yang: ...

Yang: Mom! YI don't want to tell him why, you tell him !

Summer: Okay, sweetie you've done your part, I'll take it from here.

Summer: Hello, Jaune~!

Jaune: Ms. Rose.

Summer: We need your help with something very important. Something only you can do.

Jaune: And, that is?

Summer: To help propagate the continued existence of silver eyes!

Jaune: Wait...? Do you mean, what I think you mean?

Maria: Babies, Jaune. We need your help to continue the silver eye blood line, and who better to do it, than you~?

Jaune: S-Seriously?! Why me?!

Ruby: Because we like you, Jaune!

Summer: We al know you would be the perfect father to our children.

Maria: And, considering how many children you parents made. It won't take to many tried to get started.

Summer: But, it's not like we won't still 'try' a few times, now does it?

Maria: More then just a few times~!

Ruby: Yeah~!

Jaune: Okay... I understand why you were so nervous to explain this, Yang. Yang? Yang?!

...

Ruby: She ran away.

Jaune: Considering this involves, her sister, and her mom. Understandable.

Maria: Well, now that we've established the reasons behind this little exercise. Who will you, choose, Jaune?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Kill, Ruby.

Ruby: What, why?!

Jaune: Ruby, your seventeen. You are not ready for such a commitment. And, I don't think you're ready to put up your cape yet.

Ruby: That's fair...

Jaune: Also, what's with you silver eyed warriors, and capes?

RSM: Because they're cool.

Jaune: Okay then.

Jaune: I will fuck... Maria.

Maria: Good~! I've been waiting for a certain young sexy, blond boy to take me. To glaze my caramel body with his thick white cream, to then be full of his succulent batter as he pumps me full. Ahh~! It's been so long, and I am looking forward to fixing that dry spell of mine. care to help me, Jaune?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: S-Sure! H-Happy to help!

Maria: Wonderful~!

Summer: So, I guess that means you plan on marrying me, hmm?

Jaune: If you'll have me.. haha?

Summer: Hmmm~? Summer Rose Arc~! Oh isn't that such a tantalizing name to hear?

Jaune: Uhhh...?

Summer: I know your mother will be upset. You marrying a woman twice your age. But, I know she will rethink those thoughts when the first of her new grandkids appear. Don't you?

Jaune: F-First?

Summer: Oh? You thought we were joking about all of this?

Ruby: We were serious, Jaune.

Maria: The world needs more silver eyed warriors, Jaune. WE need you to help make sure that happens.

Summer: With that thought in mind; Shall we get started then?

Jaune: Uhhh...?!

Jaune: P-Please be gentle...?

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad with ‘’That was my slurpee.’’ and the road trip theme because it reminds me of the season 2 clip that got released earlier this week lol. smut or fluff, whatever you want

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—

For the first time, you didn’t make the drive down to Cousins' beach with your family. It was strange to not be squished in the backseat with your brother and little sister sharing laughters or fighting over the silliest things.

Instead, you were sitting in the passenger seat of Conrad’s red jeep, bare feet on the dash as you read a book. Since you were going to the same college, you decided to drive together straight from there instead of going home with your respective families and doing double the traveling.

It was also a good excuse to spend more time with Conrad before going back to sleeping in separate beds. You were going to miss waking by his side, getting coffee together at 11pm and ending up watching movies all night because the caffeine is keeping you awake, or him kissing your shoulder when he would turn during the night.

You loved Cousins and spending summer so close to the beach, but you couldn’t wait for college to start again and go back to your and Conrad’s small apartment. Back where it was just the two of you.

‘’Ugh, not again,’’ you complained when Conrad turned right and pulled into a gas station.

‘’Just a quick stop to fill the car,’’ he promised, backing the jeep into a gas filling spot and turning off the engine.

You had told your parents you would be there for lunch, but it was already 3pm. It’s traffic’s fault, you explained to your mother when she texted you asking if you were close. In truth, it was Conrad’s fault for not setting an alarm and waking late. Thankfully, your bags were already packed and ready. It would have made you even more late.

‘’I’m gonna get snacks,’’ you decided, unbuckling your seatbelt too. ‘’Want anything?’’

He shook his head. ‘’I’m good.’’

‘’I think I’m gonna get a pack of berry skittles…or maybe sour patch kids.’’

‘’Sounds good.’’

‘’Are you sure you don’t want anything?’’ you asked again, getting out of the jeep.

‘’Sure.’’ Conrad grabbed your arm and pulled you in for a quick kiss.

When you returned, your hands were full and your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose made you suspect they were not yours. Conrad was already in the jeep, waiting for you.

‘’I’m back!’’ You slammed the door shut and dumped everything on your lap — minus the slurpee.

Conrad glanced at all the snacks you got and raised an eyebrow. ‘’Did you empty the whole gas station?’’ he teased, seeing everything you bought. ‘’And where’s my slurpee?’’

You pushed your sunglasses back up, seeing better, and took a sip of your drink. ‘’You always say it’s too sugary and gives you a brain-freeze.’’

‘’Yeah, well I’m thirsty, so too bad.’’ Conrad leaned toward the slurpee cup and took a long sip of your drink. He grimaced, regretting that choice. ‘’Hmm, that’s too sugary.’’ 

—

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[sohnric]

SUGAR TALK — S. JAEYUN

pairing: jake x fem! reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers au, vacation au, summer au, fluff. a tinge of first love au. jake and the reader discussing their feelings. shy jake (somebody protect him)

wc: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, a sexual joke :(

a/n: thank u @csenke my beloved for beta reading and hyping me up into posting this i owe you my whole entire LIFE. also lowkey fuck u for dragging me into yet another fandom. anyways my enhablr debut :)) kinda nervous.... pls be nice or else ill cry

A midsummer night in Italy reveals many things you and Jake managed to hide over the course of your friendship—all over a quarrel about ice cream.

“Is it good?” you ask, pointing towards the ice lolly in Jake’s mouth, your legs propped up against the wall right next to where his back is resting. You’re currently laying on the floor– because the heat in Italy makes it unbearable to sprawl on the bed during summer, just the blankets laying under you being enough to make your body flood with sweat. 

“I asked you if you wanted it,” he grunts, taking his eyes off his phone screen and gazing at you through the hair falling into his forehead and shielding his vision, “and you said no.” 

“Okay, and? I’m not asking to have it, I’m just asking you if it’s good–”

“So you don’t want a taste, yeah?” he challenges you. A second of silence passes by as the two of you stare at each other wordlessly before he sighs, right as you open your mouth and utter out your next comment.

“I mean, you can just give me a taste, it wouldn’t hurt you–”

“I’m not sharing my ice cream with you,” your childhood best friend says, shaking his head at your greediness. 

“Why not? I was generous enough to let you have the last one, so you may as well share it with me in this terrible, terrible heat–”

“I’m not letting you lick my ice cream, that’s disgusting,” he mumbles. That comment is enough to have you snicker out loud– because even though you and Jake aren’t teenagers anymore, your brain is still somehow stuck in the age where everything sounds like a sexual innuendo to you– but you manage to make the situation even worse when you let out your next comment, shocking the boy.

“You’re saying that as if it’s the first time we would be exchanging saliva.”

Jake almost chokes on the ice cream, nervously licking his lips. You and him have been childhood friends– with your parents being in the same friend group since high school, it was only natural for them to want their children to be each other’s safe haven as well. And it worked, for the most part– you could never imagine a better person to grow up with than Sim Jake, the energetic boy that lived just down the street from you– but that doesn’t mean you and him don’t have your fair share of memories you rarely talk about.

One of them being you kissing Jake when you got drunk for the first time. You just turned seventeen and although your parents were mostly understanding of your bad life choices, showing up home after underage drinking still wasn’t the wisest idea, and so Jake convinced both of your parents that you were staying over at his friend Sunghoon’s house instead. That boy can be really convincing when he tries to, and with the phone calls done and the fake arrangements in place, you two spent the night together in the nearby park.

In your drunken state, you managed to say a sentence that stayed in his mind to this day and haunted him on some nights: “You’re too pretty. I could honestly kiss you right now,” said slurred and with a voice tired– and without asking for his thoughts on the matter, you leaned in and just followed your gut. 

He kissed you back a few moments later– messy and uncoordinated– and although young Jake wanted to talk about the matter while it was still at hand, you fell asleep in his lap on the top of a skating ramp shortly after, leaving him dazed and confused, watching over you until the sun rose.

It’s now 4 years later, and somehow, you thought that bringing it up on a family trip to Italy– in the middle of the night, sitting on the cold tile floor of your shared hotel room– was the best time to talk about it.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t remember it,” you joke, watching the boy get a little red in his cheeks. “I was the drunk one and I remember, so there’s no way you don’t.”

Jake gulps down the ice cream melting in his mouth, averting his gaze from you completely. “I mean, it was my first kiss. Of course I remember.”

The moment the words escape his mouth, you feel like cotton was stuffed into your ears and the whole world stopped spinning. Your throat goes dry and you momentarily panic– you had no idea that you technically took your friend’s kiss virginity until now. Guilt washes you over– because what if he wanted to save it for someone else? Someone more worthy, someone he liked? What if he wasn't ready? You made that decision for him, and suddenly, you feel insanely bad– wishing that the ground would swallow you alive.

“So that’s why you were such a bad kisser–” you say instead, trying to act nonchalant– to which you earn yourself a kick to your side, having the boy laugh in embarrassment.

“Hey! It’s not my fault you caught me unprepared,” he says, shaking his head at you.

“Well, for whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry,” you hum in all seriousness. Now is your time to avert your gaze from the boy, pointing your eyes towards your legs resting up against the wall. There is a moment of silence following your sincere words, and just when you think the situation got too awkward to continue talking about the incident– which is why you never really brought it up in the first place– Jake speaks up again, breaking the quiet atmosphere of the hotel room.

“For what?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“For kissing you without asking,” you say, furrowing your brows. “It was selfish of me. Had I known it was your first kiss, I wouldn’t steal it all for myself,” you snicker, feeling a little shy.

“Oh,” he hums just before you hear him laugh airly at your words. “I mean… I enjoyed it.”

“Did you?” you ask, allowing yourself to look back at the boy– noticing the softness of his eyes when he watches you, something in the air tensing, but making you feel like you’re floating, light. “Because you seemed pretty frightened back then.”

“That’s because I was embarrassed,” he explains, laughing. “I had a huge crush on you back then, so it was kind of a big deal for me,” he hums, a tint of pink appearing on the tips of his cheekbones, eyes glimmering a little in the low light of the room.

Now is your time to let out a dead-pan “Oh,” the shock of the new information still settling into you. With how long you’ve known Sim Jake, you thought you could read him like an open book– easily and clearly. Most of the time, you were really in tune with his emotions and thoughts, you could predict what his opinion would be on most things and how he’d feel about certain situations– leaving you checking in with him whenever you sensed he’d be down but wouldn’t outright tell you to your face. But maybe you were wrong to believe this assumption– maybe you couldn’t read your best friend as much as you thought you could. 

Because you would’ve never thought of this being a reality. 

“You didn’t know? I thought you knew, but you didn’t want it to be awkward between us so you didn’t mention it,” he laughs, taking in the situation with much more lightness now, seeing how affected you are by the simple confession. This is not how you imagined this conversation to go.

“No?!” you exclaim, baffled. “How the fuck would I know?”

“Now come on, Y/N,” he sighs, shaking his head at you in disbelief, “I invited you to prom. I think that might have been a clear sign that something was going on,” he snickers before he continues munching on his ice cream. After speaking the fact into existence, Jake seems to be less nervous about the topic– approaching it with almost utmost nonchalance, leaving you space to process with panicked thoughts instead.

“I thought you invited me because you had no one else to invite,” you said, blinking slowly as if rebooting your brain.

“You thought I had no one else to invite?” he laughs, now in disbelief at your words. “I was cute in high school, thank you very much. You think no one else would wanna go with me?” 

“Okay, don’t get all cocky on me now,” you grunt, huffing and pointing your eyes towards the ceiling.

Your brain takes on the challenge of projecting every single memory of Jake and your high school self together, seeing all those situations with much different eyes. You remember telling your friends about how sweet of a guy Jake always was– carrying your stuff for you, helping you with your Science homework, walking you home after your tutoring, buying you lunch– ‘any girl would be so lucky to date him!’. Your little advertisements never worked out, though, because your best friend never really cared about any other girl in the first place.

Now you kind of see why. And it leaves you wondering– are the late night calls you two shared when you’re away at university really just two friends missing each other? Does he get overly-protective over you because he wants to take care of you, or is it jealousy? That one time he called you ‘his girl’, was it perhaps something deeper that you missed?

“Are we talking past tense, though?” you hear yourself speaking out, and you don’t know why you’re suddenly holding your breath.

When you look at Jake, the popsicle is in his mouth and his brows are raised in question. Thinking he’s confused, you ask again. “Or do you still have a crush on me?” 

The boy chokes a little on the ice cream, making you laugh at his animated response. His cheeks grow deep red, and he seems to be avoiding your gaze. Now, you’re no expert at body language, but if you were asked, you’d say this was a telling sign. 

“You know what? Just keep the ice cream,” he says instead, the sweet, cold treat levitating in front of your lips now. Satisfied, with butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your fingertips tingling when they come in contact with his skin around the wooden stick, you take the popsicle into your mouth with the knowledge that you won. 

Mid-july, melting into the hardwood floor of your Italian hotel room, you feel like there is something within your storyline that is slowly coming full circle. Maybe after years of denial, you’re finally going to face the feelings left unsaid.

[xxanaduwrites]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ a residue series installment ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

from the hive 🎙️🐝 : session 1

✎ elementary-teacher!reader (miss.honey) x biker!benny 🏍️

🐝 main hive | sweet talkin’ | honey, are you comin’? 🍯

summary: based off the two parts listed above, spoken from honey’s pov. some never before seen bonus tidbits included to be extended upon in future residue parts ;)

warnings: smoking, talks of violence, arson, potential stalking, some cursing here and there. nothing too crazy.

word count: idek tbh, i oddly wrote it in my tumblr drafts to get me inspired before writing the main residue installments.

💌 requests are open, send ‘em honey 💋

↻ ◁ || ▷

↺ ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•

honey: “y’want some honey in your tea?”

danny: “sure, thanks.”

[ a clanking sounds of what must be a spoon is heard in the background of the recording ]

honey: “anytime, sweets.”

danny: “wait, i’ve seen this before.”

honey: “huh?”

danny: “this company. isn’t that — wait that’s your last name ain’t it?”

honey: “yeah, my pa’s a bee keeper. ma jars the honey with some top secret ingredient that’s got the town buzzin’. whole family business.”

danny: “ah, no wonder you got that nickname.”

honey: “yep, since the womb.”

danny: “interestin’. did benny know that when he met ya?”

honey: “hm…not that i know of. might of. if he didn’t, m’sure johnny must of told him.”

danny: “how’d you meet benny then?”

honey: “how’d i meet benny?”

danny: “yeah.”

honey: “well…you know, i was just mindin’ my own business. working a regular school day at the elementary school on phipps. i was teaching the third grade at the time and johnny’s girls just so happened to be in my class. the main office sent me a note in the middle of the day informing me that the girls would be picked up by their uncle benny. i didn’t think too much of it at the time, hey it wasn’t unusual for kids to be picked up by extended family members, y’know? but i guess i — i had this vision of what he’d be like. fucked up i know, but ya see, i knew johnny. not in the way one would expect. [ honey laughs ] johnny was — well he was mr. davis to me, respectfully so, just like any parent would be to one of my students. but he was also the mr. davis i knew from mass at st. caron’s on the corner of rose and dawn. he’d be walkin’ around in a suit and tie, the whole get up, solemn as he ushered pew to pew with the collections basket for the poor and during communion on sundays 12pm sharp.

danny: “interesting. so i suspect you saw johnny rather often then?”

honey: “oh yeah, every week. went with my ma and pa all the time and like clock work he was there. such a clean cut dignified family man. so it was no surprise for me to be taken aback by benny’s appearance when he pulled up at the school yard.”

danny: “did he bring his bike?”

honey: “hell no! had johnny’s car. ‘twas a real trip with his colors on and a cigarette propped between those pillowly lips of his.”

danny: [ laughs ] “i can imagine. when was this exactly?”

honey: “oh it had to be close to the end of june, right before the start of the summer of ‘65. school was just about ending. had a week left or so. oh yeah — yeah, i remember cause it was real hot out too — sweltering heat, like that sticky kind that can only be equated to bein’ stuck in a classroom with a half broken fan. aw it was the worst. i had on this baby pink tank of sorts with thick straps under this overall dress i decked out a while back. it was real cute. had all these flowers and things i embroidered on it.

danny: “right, the embroidery. heard a thing or two about bedazzled patches on the vandal jackets.”

honey: “‘course you did. the skill got me going with the boys. when sonny started riding with ‘em he let me bejewel the fringes of his jacket real pretty. always a good sport. but anyways — yeah so i had this cute little get up on and my hair was all up and out of my face, real messy for the 60s. kinda stuck out like a sore thumb at school, but what shits did i give?

danny: “none?”

honey: “damn right. so yeah, it was kind of funny when benny came strolling up to me, weaving through all the parents like a puzzle piece that didn’t quite fit one bit.”

danny: “what were your first impressions of him?”

honey: “i was impressed to say the least. only had my reservations for what — half a minute? yeah, i’d say a good thirty seconds before i was smiling up at him.”

danny: “did he scare you? scare any of the parents, other teachers?”

honey: “i wasn’t scared of him no…as for the others, sure. mrs. rubin was all this and that and the other thing ‘bout him after that, especially when it got more serious and he was waitin’ round the school. she didn’t appreciate the loitering, but he was harmless, as harmless as benny could be. though, i was more refreshed really to see somebody so interesting….so different from everybody else. it made me feel seen, y’know?”

danny: “so what happened next? when he got to you?”

honey: “he’s standin’ in front of me and i’m bein’ a good egg with both girls at my sides, small fingers wrapped around each hand, and i go ‘hi, you must be uncle benny. i’m miss. honey.’ and he takes a good minute to give me a once over, like introducing myself was the craziest thing i could of done. then that thick smokey voice of his went “honey, huh?” and my tummy rumbled up so much so i was sure the butterflies i stitched ripped right off and flew about my dress. [ honey laughs again ] i was kind of just like ‘yep, that’s me’ or whateva, and god i was so sure i fucked it all up.”

danny: “how come?”

honey: “anyone that knows benny knows he’s not a man of many words by any means, so at the time i took his silence as a sign of unimpression. i mean if you took a look at us two — and i mean a quick glance or somethin’, we definitely seemed like an odd pair. but if you really looked rather closely, takin’ the time to absorb every detail, i’d definitely say we were far more similar past the common eye. but, i’ll go into that later. [ honey pauses for a moment ] sorry did i answer the question?”

danny: “you did, you did.”

honey: “good, good….so where was i?”

danny: “you were talkin’ about introducing yourself to benny and him being unimpressed.”

honey: “right, so one of johnny’s girl starts gettin’ all antsy. wants to go. has herself practically all over benny in a beg. her sister — no. her sister doesn’t wanna. the little thing has her hand practically chain locked to mine. so i did what any teacher would do and sweet talked her into going.”

danny: “how’d you manage that?”

honey: “i reminded her that her pa was a good man. that his interests were just as important as her own. that was all it took really.”

danny: “did you still think that later on? still do? after everything?

honey: [ honey sighs and puts out a cigarette she’d been smoking throughout the session ] “i did and i still do. i know some people will say that johnny was no good, that his club only created chaos. really though, the johnny i knew was trying to keep the peace as my benny well — wasn’t. one wrong look in my direction and my man was jumping the fool in seconds flat. and if they got a hand on me, oh they’d have to have a death wish upon ‘em. benny would not stand for that. he’d make their life a livin’ hell for as long as they lived. johnny — no johnny wasn’t like that unless it was real bad. unless someone got real hurt, then he’d fight back.”

danny: “like the bar fire?”

honey: “exactly like the bar fire. sure, a part of me felt bad for the owner. that his establishment just went up in flames like that. but the other part of me was glad those fuckers couldn’t step foot in such a place no more. and on top of i was rather pissed off — still am — by the fact that the owner just let my benny get attacked like that. did nothing to stop it. boils my blood just thinking about it. just thinking about my sweet benny minding his business and gettin’ swarmed for just wearin’ his colors. colors that wouldn’t come off of him once i got my artsy hands on it. he was absolutely obsessin’ with the patches i made. especially the one that said “honey’s hubby” with a big ol’ heart. made my cheeks burn real bad when he’d kiss it before tossing it right back on.”

danny: “i remember seeing that.”

honey: “you do?!”

danny: “yeah, the times i rode with the guys. i caught ‘em doing it here and there. especially when he was ‘bout to mount his bike before a ride. figured it was some sort of good luck charm before i really took a good look at what the patch said. then i realized it was you.”

honey: “danny?”

danny: “what?”

honey: “you gotta stop or i’m gonna be gushin’ the whole rest of this interview without giving yuh the real stuff.”

danny: “alright, alright [ lyon laughs ] back to business. so, what happened after you got johnny’s girl to go with benny? when’d you see him again?”

honey: “funnily enough, ‘twas the very next day. saw him first in the mornin’ y’know at drop off. i figured he gave a ride to the girls again or somethin’ — but no. it was betty who did. she came right up to me that morning to say hello. the hell was i thinkin’? i mean benny had his whole bike on him. no shot in hell he’d bring the girls on it.”

danny: “sure.” [ sarcasm is apparent in lyon’s words ]

honey: “danny no! [ honey laughs ] benny was wild but not that wild. he’d never let anything happen to those girls.”

danny: “i know, i know. only jokin’. i’m assumin’ that’s what drew you to him though?”

honey: “it was definitely a solid factor.”

danny: “understandable. did you go talk to him, at drop off?”

honey: “no, no. I didn’t think too much of it at the time and i couldn’t go shoot the breeze with him anyways. the lot was packed with all these little ones. i had to roll call mine. it wasn’t until after lunch hour during recess that i did.”

danny: “he was still there then? never left?”

honey: “as far as i know, no. had a whole garden of cigarette buds circling his feet like he’d been there for hours.”

danny: “what’d you say when you approached him?”

honey: “said something about the girls not getting out for another few hours and then asked him if he was stalkin’ me off the bat. oh — he offered me a cigarette too, and i took it.”

danny: “ripped the bandage right off i see. how’d he take that?”

honey: “seemed amusin’ to him. he made one of those faces that had all his features turnin’ up real pretty. can never forget that. flat out told me he wasn’t which i found strangely adorable. then — i don’t really know how it happened, but he was changing the subject completely. y’know when you’re having a conversation and ya kind of just naturally switch topics easily, but it’s done so smoothy, like the segue isn’t rough or whatever?”

danny: “yeah, i know what y’mean. the previous topic is wedged in there somehow subtly, but it makes sense why you got there.”

honey: “exactly. but, benny. no — when benny was in the midst of a conversation and started going on about something else there was no ease there. yet, you’d be fooled to think so. that’s how he got us out of most arguments honestly. one minute i wouldn’t be too happy with him about somethin’. probably somethin’ stupid anyways. if not stupid, than definitely about him ridin’ with an injury. always got me nervous. but then of course the next he’d have me wrapped up in his embrace as if five minutes prior hadn’t happened. here, for instance though, i guess the transition kind of made sense? i mean i was goin’ on about my co-worker freaking out about him just parking ship near campus, blabbing about and he’s asking about what time i get out, and if i wanna go on a ride. now, i’m dumbfounded by this. cause what the hell does he want to do with me, y’know?”

danny: “so what did ya do? did ya go with him?”

honey: “what’a ya think, daniel?”

[ an unknown interruption cuts the session here, but lyon obtains all the information from honey he needs — for now, that is ;) ]

[ the tape ends ]

↻ ◁ || ▷

author’s note: hope ya liked this! i’m such a sucker for an interview writing style. daisy jones & the six is my favorite books ever if you can’t tell! <3

my requests are open for any miss honey x benny cross works + any convos about these two in general. don’t be shy honey, i’m all for yapping in the asks.

+ don’t forget to comment if you’d like be added to “da bee hive” (my version of da tag list)

smoochies. all da love xanadu 💋

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