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alien-magnolia · 5 months

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I Need Someone Older

Fic description: Dean finds you on a hunt and takes you along to get you safely out of danger, fun ensues :) as the two of you feel an inevitable pull of attraction towards each other.

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Tw: AGE GAP! Hyper-feminine reader in early 20’s, Dean in late 40’s, daddy issues <3, dom-coded dean, sub-coded reader, bj, breeding kink!, extremely subby-coded reader, helplessness, praise!!!

Word count: 3.1k

Don’t like, don’t read!!

May 5, 2007

7:40 pm

Your white knee high socks were getting a little dusty from the dirt on the woodsy soil. You came out here to write your poetry, desiring a place for peaceful solitude, and perhaps some creative inspiration. You dusted off your skirt as you sat down on the moist bed of grass. The waning moon was a bit yellow tonight, yet you thought nothing off it. You began to write a few words in your floral notebook, with some neat handwriting and a gel pen.

All of a sudden, you hear a wail in the distance. The wind is cold. A few leaves rustle out a few feet away from you, causing you to stare into the dark pathway on your left, in which many trees loitered. You felt as if you were being watched. You continue with your writing, until again you hear a rustle, this time, a bit closer than before. A chill goes down your spine, and you slowly turn to see a pair of yellow eyes, a figure with long, sharp, claws, and a tall, curved, spiny, skinny, body, with a tail. It snarls, coming closer to you. You drop your notebook, and crawl backwards, the dirt making indents on your palms. You hear a few male voices, and see boots running to attack the creature.

You see a flame, the creature is light ablaze, and you pass out from fear. The last thing you remember is strong arms lifting you up, the smell of beer and cherry pie clouds your nostrils.

You wake up in the wood again, this time, the brighr and warm morning light shines down on your skin, littered with cuts and bruises. You seemed to have lost your favorite lipgloss in the process.

“Where am I? My head…,” you whine, seeing a handsome man next to you, bandaging your cuts and cleaning them. That cheered you up a bit. You wince as his calloused hands rub alcohol on your wound, and you meet his eyes. He had green eyes, dark hair, wore a flannel and jeans and had the most amazing body <3 he looked just, so big, compared to you!

You ask him his name and what happened. “The name’s Dean, sweetheart. My brother and I were in these woods looking for a wendigo. We sure as hell did find one.” You nod, still reeling from the attack last night. “Did that… person, thing, do that to me?,” you ask, eyes wide, a bit nervous. “It’s no person, honey,” he chuckles darkly. “Hate to break it to you, but monsters are real. The whole gang. Vampires, werewolves, spirits, demons, all other things that go bump in the night. All are real.” You sit in shock as he continues to fix your wounds. You notice how good his calloused (gunpowder covered) fingers feel on your calves. You wince as he brushes over a wound, jerking your leg back.

“Too rough?,” he asks, a large hand resting on your thigh. You nod. “S’alright. I’ll be more gentle, yeah?,” he asks, and you nod, feeling satisfied as the older man returns your smile.

“Hey. Might’ve caught trail of another wendigo up ahead. We should get going,” another man dressed in similar fashion walks up ahead, talking to Dean, taking a glance at you. “What's the hold up, Dean?,” he asks.

“Shut it, Sammy. Can’t you see I’m doing something here? Found her at the site where the thing was. Had to fix her up.” Sam nods, as Dean tells him your name. The two then agree to further go hunt for the second wendigo. “What about her? We’re deep in the woods now, sure as hell she ain’t going to go back on her own, Sammy.” “Fine. Take her with you, as long as she doesn’t cause a problem.”

So it was. You were now going to hunt for the wendigo with the Winchester brothers. The dirt and thick jagged branches sometimes were too much for your legs to handle, so you held onto Dean for some of the walk. He didnt seem to mind, and only smirked as you accidentally leaned too much into him, your soft chest grazing his wide and big arms.

“Stay here, stay put. Don’t go anywhere,” Dean commands you, and you do as said, wait as the boys go into the dark cave. An hour later — there was fire, shrieking, and the boys come out unscathed. The last wendigo has been killed, and the three of you make your way back to “baby,” which you later learned was Dean’s nickname for his ‘67 Impala.

Dean drove with Sam in the front, you in the back seat. You dozed in and out of consciousness as the engine lulled you toward the heavy tug of sleep, you overheard the two men speaking about you.

“Well, Dean she has no ID on her so it’s better off that we take her to the local sheriff’s station. We know Jody, she might be able to help,” Sam inquired. “Yeah, well Sammy, you know what, Jody’s probably just going to tell her to go back to the woods or some shit. Maybe she’s far from home. Maybe she was hiding. Who the hell knows? Bet she’d tell us first before talking to law enforcement,” Dean countered.

“Why is it always you and women, Dean? She’s so young too. Maybe a little too young for you?”

“Shut it, Sammy. Respect her. She probably has her reasons. She’s real pretty and I’ll get what I want, eventually,” Dean retorted. Sam sighed.

You drifted back into sleep but squeezed your thighs together at the thought of the older man using you and getting what “he wants.”

You were more than happy to give it to him.

You were in a dingy 1970’s era hotel room, with dark brown shag carpet, rickety beds with neon orange polyester sheets, and a single lamp in the corner, flickering on occasion. No tv, but a rotary phone and radio. Sam was on a chunky laptop that whined and whistled due to all the power his research into Wendigos was taking up. You believed he was on a library forum of some sort. You sat on the bed, dwindling with the phone cord. The low buzz of the fan was heard from the corner.

Dean comes up to you. “Heya, kid. I’m gonna go get some grub. Wanna come with?,” he asks, offering you a hand to help you up from the bed. You nod, smiling, and taking his hand. Dean opted to go to a local bar to get some takeout. He ordered a large burger, large pilsner beer, and a cherry pie. You got some chicken and French fries, sharing some pie with him. You tell him that you were in the woods to write poetry, you got lost and then time seemed to go. Your cell was dead too. He told you about his ‘job’ with his brother Sam, choosing to follow his dad John Winchester’s legacy of hunting down things that go bump in the night. He made you laugh, asking you about your writing, your college education, a life that someone like him never had.

“We’re so different, you and I, know that? Seriously. I mean, college? In my dreams. Wondering what that’s like,” he said to you, while taking a sip of his beer.

“What can I say. I want a decent life for myself, sometimes. I have a pull towards the arts. Literature, actually. Sometimes though, I just want to be on my own. Without the pressures of society, on the road, like you two. Bet you don’t have any deadlines to meet,” you jokingly admit to Dean.

He chuckles, but then nods, a more serious expression growing on his face now, taking another sip of his beer. “Life sucks, kid. Sucks for me and Sammy, we’re out on the road, might die the next day. Never know what the fuck’s chasing after us,” he has a bit of a solemn expression, taking another sip of his beer.

You nodded, understanding him, seeing through the “tough guy” facade that he’s put up. He was scared. He needed someone to comfort him, to support him. His brother was his partner, yet that wasn’t the partner he was looking for.

You reach over to put your dainty hand on his large one. “Thanks for dinner, really. We should save some for Sam, though, I think,” you giggle, watching a grown man blush over your gentle touch. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart. Anytime…,” he trails off, his blush seemed to get stronger and he was avoiding eye contact a bit.

“You okay?,” you ask, meeting his eyes, feeling something start to heat up between the two of you, the air suddenly was heavy. “You’re just, well, pretty, kid. Seriously. Real fuckin’ nice, sweets,” he chuckles, his large fingers coming to intertwine with yours. You almost faint under the pressure of his hand on yours, your eyes drift to his muscular and wide frame, his tattered Jean jacket, his necklace on a black piece of string, his chiseled jawline. As funny as he was, you knew that you had an undeniable attraction towards him.

He saved you from the wendigo, but you let him. You let him take you back to the motel with Sam. You let him have you stay with them. Now. You’d let him have your body. All of it.

“Maybe we can go into those woods again? I can show you some poems?,” you reel, watching the older man’s eyes light up with a burning flame. “Sure, thing, kid. I’ll take you up there in ‘baby.’

With a few stares and leers from the other inhabitants of the shady bar, Dean leads you by the waist out the door, and into his impala, opening the door for you, of course.

“Ladies first,” he bows down a bit as he holds the shabby car door open for you. You take his helping hand and slide into the shotgun (front) seat. He quickly runs over to the driver’s side, a toothpick in his mouth as he climbs in, adjusting the jagged rearview mirror. You struggled to buckle up in the old model of a car, so Dean helped out, buckling it for you. You liked the many things he seemed to do for you. His care. His help.

He pulls out of the diner driveway, one of his ringed hands on the wheel, another tracing gentle patterns all over your thigh. You adjust your socks as his patterns make you heat up — inside and out. “I know a place. You down? If not I’m fine with it, sweet thing. No pressure, s’all,” his voice is soft, gentle, as if speaking to a child. You blush. “It’s alright, Dean. I’ll show you my poems. I’ll show you something else too, I think you’ll like it,” you cover your smile as you let out a few small giggles. He smirks back at you.

“Oh I’ll like it, alright. God damn,” he stifles, his strong, calloused fingers gripping a bit harder on your soft thigh. The rest of the drive was tense, just how you liked it. Soft rock — ‘Blue Oyster Cult’s’ “Don’t Fear The Reaper” played in the background, and it would usually lull you to sleep. Not tonight. Your heart raced, stealing glances at the man next to you. The man about to take your virginity, what concept you or society made of it. You hoped he didn’t mind.

The impala pulled into a motel parking lot: the same one where you left from. “Dean. Your brother..won’t he..?, you ask, and he quickly interrupts. “Well just be in a different room, is all. Sammy wouldn’t care anyway, as much as I’d like him to. He takes your hand again, leading you to Room 22, on the second floor. Your fingers trace the grimy balcony railing as you head up there.

The door shuts. You smile at him, then look down at your feet. “Can I, um. Kiss you, Dean?,” you ask, shy and sweet, a delicious pie on the shelf, a cherry blossom that smells and tastes so sweet, intoxicating the older man closer and closer to you. “F’course. You’ve never done this before, have you?” You nod. “Let me take the lead, yeah, sweet thing. I’ll be gentle. Scout’s honor,” he smiles, holding up two fingers. You nod, wrapping your small arms around his broad chest. Your soft chest pressed against his, you feel the cool metal of his pentagram necklace press against your warm, beating heart.

His large arms trail down to squeeze your waist a bit, and then rub circles down below, your waist and hips. He gave them a tight squeeze, you gasped at his strength. His fingers continued ministrations on your waist, hips, thighs, and the two of your lips danced in a slow and sensual rhythm. You could taste the beer and cherry pie on him, and you ran your fingers through his coarse hair.

His thumb rubs your cheek a bit, and he picks you up in his arms, you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you over to the bed, gently laying you down under him. His face above you, his brown eyes in awe taking in your sweet skin, putting him in a trance. His calloused hands run down your arms, your belly, gentle, soft, and slow. He grabs your chin, pulling your face towards his, and meets you for a chaste kiss, slow, you felt the stubble on his cheek and smiled into his lips.

His hand runs through your hair, over your cheek, this thumb caressing your face a bit. You keep the kiss going, you feel him getting rougher, hungrier for you. Your hands touch his broad chest, trailing on the hem of his shirt, which you take off. His chest was bare, just with a tiny bit of hair, and a very prominent happy trail <3 of which you run your fingers through.

His hands lead your hips up against the wall, tracing patterns on your back. Your lips are hungry for each others, you push your chest into his. “Fuck, sweet thing. Gonna drive me up the wall here, Jesus,” his voice now an octave deeper, raspier, breathless. His cherry pink swollen lips meet yours again, you feel his aftershave on your face. Your thighs rub against his growing bulge, positioning your legs so his thickening tent on his jeans was pressed up snug, right into your growing wetness in between your legs.

“Dean…want it,” you moan out, your delicate, manicured fingers tracing the toughness of his stubble. “Want what, huh? Gotta ask nicely, don’t keep me guessing, honey,” he smirks, a condescending expression appearing on his handsome face.

“I-uh, your, uh, oh, fuck,” you breathlessly whimper out, as his rough, calloused fingers gently slide down between your legs, rubbing your soft, warm folds, through your pretty and pink lace.

“Let me see what you got down there, hmm?,” he smirks, knowing that he has you completely wrapped around his finger. You nod, his hand cups your cheek for another kiss. He slides off your skirt, your knee highs, your Lacey top. You work on his jeans, until he stops you, with a look — meaning that he can take care of it.

All clothes gone — your legs intertwine, he presses his leaking bulge into your folds, you could practically feel how you clenched around nothing!!

“Dean…,” you beg again. “What’s wrong, huh? What’re you beggin’ for, seeet thing. Gotta give me words,” he says, all the while his thick fingers continue to work you open — get you ready for him.

A soft smile is on his face as his fingers become ever so gentle, continuing a circular pattern, pausing to tightly cup and squeeze your pulsing mound.

“Want. Want your, ha — your cock, Dean. Please. Please!,” you squeal out, just as he cups and massages your mound once more. “Why didn’t you say so, at first, sweet thing? Here I was thinkin’ you only wanted my fingers,” he chuckles, smile full of adoration — seeing you in a close to ruined state. His fingers pull out with a squelch.

You whine at the loss, your cunt throbbing, pulsing, desperate to be filled!! He smiles, hands on your hips. “Bend over f’me, baby.” You do as said, his smile and yours widen as his two hands cup your ass, giving it a hard smack.

His hands trace up and down your back, your waist, until you feel his soft tip press at your entrance. You turn around to view what you’ve been waiting for. He’s big. Short, yet thick. Oh so thick. You weren’t sure if he’d fit. A large vein ran down his left side. Fuck — how you wanted that in your mouth.

His hand gently guides your face back down into the table which you were bent over. “Down, baby. You’ll get a chance later, yeah?,” he soothes you. You nod. You feel his throbbing tip at your mound, as he slides in — you feel the stretch, just for a bit, and then he starts to push in, you felt so full !!

“Fuck— ah, Dean, too much, too much,” you squeal out, as he slides in, and starts to move, thrust, slow, gentle at first, and then deep, fast, his thick balls slapping against your mound. You saw stars, felt pressure as he kept going, faster, rutting into you, his hairy chest pressing into your back. The man had put you in a mating press. You wouldn’t mind. With how it’s going with him — you’d take his seed. Anything for the man that saved you from the Wendigo.

Your eyes roll back into your head, his grip on your hips was like a vice. The two of you finish with screams. He groans. “Fuck, sweet thing. You take it like a champ, yeah?” You nod giddily, anything for his praise and approval. “How’s about we stay in this room tonight? I’ll getchu’ a beer.” You nod. “That’s my good girl. Stay put.” With that, your mound is even more wet, you’re left clenching, covered in his cum as he leaves to get you snacks.

He comes back, presses a nice kiss to your forehead, and makes the two of you some dinner. You wondered what this will lead to.

Author’s note: pls support your creators <3 if you love this fic pls comment or reblog! Greatly appreciated <3 xoxo - Liz

#liz’s masterlist #liz writes 🖤#supernatural smut #Dean Winchester smut #dean x reader #dean winchester hot #winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dom!dean winchester #hyperfeminine!reader

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sinsofbeauty · 1 year

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Red Stained Sunflower Pt. 3

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, Suggestive Nsfw content, Cigarette mention/usage, SMUT!!, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected (Stay safe), slight choking, and more but I don’t wanna spoil the fun ;3

Requested?: Yeeee!!!

Overview: If the events that happened the night before weren't enough, then tonight sure as hell would be. After an awkward encounter, you find yourself alone with the man who has such a hold on you. Talking and playing around won’t compare to what you got yourself into tonight.

A/n: This is the last part of this little series!! If you would like to see more Johnny feel free to send me an ask/request! I got a couple in my inbox so I’ll be working on those! Johnny’s a little more soft but can be a bit aggressive in this one so if ya aint feeling it DNI!!

This chapter contains written NSFW content. Minors are advised to not interact!! Enjoy!

Red Stained Sunflower Pt.1 - Red Stained Sunflower Pt.2

You weren't prepared for really visiting the Slaughter home the next day. Your heart pumped strangely after Johnny left last night with his confident demeanor and witty remarks. You couldn't sleep all night from it. The man’s scent had still lingered in your room, especially on your bed where he decided to make himself comfortable. You hated him for that. You loved the thought of him but hated that he was constantly on your mind.

Now you were on your way to meet the man, telling your father that you would be at Maria’s for a bit. Lying, so that you could see the trouble that dipped so far into your heart. Walking along the dirt road in your favorite sundress and a small bag, you decided to go through the front instead of the back way close to the gardens like last time. It probably would be easier since it was getting late, the sun coming close to the horizon.

You hurried your steps as your feet silently patted on the porch, before raising your hand to knock on the door. Your hand was mere centimeters away but suddenly stopped when you heard commotion coming from the other side. And it didn’t sound good either…

“Ya’ keep leavin’ without a trace and don’t tell nobody! The hell ya’ goin’ off to?!”

You carefully pushed your ear to the door to hear if anyone was nearby. If you can recall his name, it sounded like Drayton. The older gentleman who occasionally went by the name Cook among some members of the family. Given that he didn't seem to like your presence, you didn't actually talk to him all that much. When you laugh with Bubba and Nubbins, you may receive sidelong looks or little scoffs from the kitchen. He appeared agitated, and was questioning the person who had turned his mood so sour.

“That’s none of yer damn business, old man.”

Oh… that’s who was getting interrogated. Johnny. What they were saying appeared to grab your attention, even though it shouldn't have startled you as much as it did.

“It’s that girl again ain’t it? Ya’ keep goin’ out and followin’ ‘er like a gosh darn puppy!” Drayton had persisted in reprimanding Johnny, his aging voice hoarse with annoyance. “What’s so special ‘bout ‘er hm? She can’t do nothin’ for ya’-“

“Watch yer tone! Before ya’ start ta’ have a real problem on yer hands.”

Drayton and Johnny both appeared to be furious, but Johnny's stance was clearly more aggressive. Given that the older man made a comment regarding other girls, you weren't sure if they were talking about you or not. Your heart briefly ached as a result. You felt a tiny bit envious when you imagined Johnny with someone else. As you refocused on the exchanged words, you briefly dared to blink.

“Calm ya’self Johnny!” Your ears twitch to the sound of Sissy’s voice.

“Get off a me!” He growls, sudden footsteps approaching closer the door. “Yer quick ta’ start pointin’ fingers. Do I need ta’ remind ya’ how long ya’ left us fa’?”

“Don’t chu start yappin’ at me! Ya’ know what I needed ta’ do-“

“And I know what I’m doin’, so quit yer barkin!”

You became aware that you were still listening in as footsteps began to move dangerously towards the door. You immediately moved away from the porch, to the side of the house where the bushes encumbered beneath the window. Bubba and Nubbins emerge from the door moments later once it had opened. You see from the bushes as the two enter the white pickup truck's back bay, with Sissy trailing behind them and moving toward the passenger-side door. Johnny is furiously flailing his arms behind Drayton as the older man stumbles out of the house.

When Johnny came closer, Drayton spun around and pointed a finger in his face as the younger man's brows furrowed. “She’s makin’ ya’ weak boy. Weak! And if I have ta’ tell ya’ ta’ leave ‘er alone again-!”

“What are ya’ so afraid of ol’ man?” The man’s eyelids lower in suspicion. “I don’t have ta’ explain anythin’ ta’ anybody, and I ain’t gonna let ya’ boss me ‘round like a kid.”

“So naive, wait until ya’ mother hears about this,” Cook chuckles, hopping into the truck. “Ya’ care ‘bout ‘er more than ya’ care ‘bout yer own family. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, once she realizes what you are, you’ll treat ‘em like the rest once she tries ta’ leave.”

As you saw Drayton shut the door to the truck, his remarks caused your stomach to churn, giving you anxiety-filled butterflies. The vehicle had been started, and the engine was roaring as it backed into the driveway. Once it was turned around it drove off, leaving Johnny there speechless and heated as ever. You’ve never seen him so upset, so… filled with anger. He tightened his jaw and balled his fists into the palms of his hands, a vein protruding from the side of his temple. He looked like he could kill someone, right then and there. After a period of silence, he took a long breath in and let it out harshly.

“Yer terrible at hidin’.”

As Johnny's statement rang across the air, your heart leaped and your eyes widened. Before turning around, he had let out an abrasive huff while his tongue prodded at the insides of his cheeks. “Ya’ can stop hidin’ darlin.” He only moves a few steps before his eyes and boots come to a complete stop on the ground. He was perceptive, and that was well noted. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his dark hair as his demeanor abruptly changed. “Come oooon, I know yer out here.”

Although you were uneasy, there was no use continuing to hide now that he had exposed you. A few seconds later, you emerged from the bushes, and Johnny's eyes shot open to meet yours. His chocolate brown eyes locked with yours at that very instant, and you could feel the rage and shame simmering behind them. With the broad grin that covered his face, he did a great job of hiding it.

“How did you know I was here?” You asked, making him shrug his shoulders. “Could see yer footprints. They moved that way unlike the others,” His fingers pointed down to the ground, making you smirk and shake your head slightly. “Didn’t think ya’d be ‘ere so soon. Hell, thought ya’d go on and ditch me again~.”

“Well… I uh, was thinking about it. After hearing all that.”

The smile on Johnny’s face faded as quick as it came, tilting his head slightly with the squint of his eyes. “How much did ya’ ‘ear?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.

You fiddled with the fabric of your sundress, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it just happened to be a bad time and you didn’t want to get caught knowing they were talking about you. It was reasonable, but then again… maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to lie right in Johnny’s face.

“Enough…” You said, making the man turn his head away. “I know Drayton didn’t like me that much but not as… much as I thought.”

Johnny shook his head, a chuckle coming from his mouth. “Heh, yeah. I got some explainin’ ta’ do don’t I?” The man had lifted his arm, hand gesturing to you as he began to approach. “Walk wit’ me?”

He smiles once again at your head nod when he approaches. He took hold of your shoulders and pulled you along with him as the two of you moved to the side of the house. “So… about that explaining?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m gettin’ to it.” Johnny rolled his eyes playfully, removing his arm from you to run his fingers through his hair again. “So impatient. Next thing I know yer gonna be bossin’ me ‘round!”

“Thought you didn’t like being told what to do.” You say, his eyes narrowing to stare at you in a playful side eye.

“I don’t.” His voice cracks with excitement, making you giggle in response.

Both of you had stopped, and Johnny had positioned himself on a car's damaged hood. He had rested against it, his arms crossed, and his head tilted to the side. The male had observed as your eyes silently absorbed the magnificence of the meadows. You were patiently waiting for him to resume speaking, but the breathtaking scenery fully captured your attention. The scene of the sunflowers gently colored by the sun's rays as they sway side to side in the wind. The man behind you, who had hummed at the sight, was the only one who managed to divert your attention away from the view.

Your head turns, staring Johnny with his half lidded eyes. “I should’ve brought my camera.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Forgot. I was so busy getting ready that I left it on my dresser.” You had fumbled through your bag in your hip, looking into it for something.

“Got all dolled up just fa’ me? Ya’ shouldn’t have~.” Johnny was… staring a lot, and it was awfully distracting. You don’t even remember what it was that you were looking for.

“Oh shut up.” You say, putting your bag away to your hip. “Come up with that explanation yet?”

Johnny sighed and rubbed the side of his stubbled cheek as another smile appeared on his face. “What do ya’ wanna know?”

There were many things you wished to know. Why Drayton didn't like you, whether his family disapproved of you, whether he is seeing someone else, and whatever part of him the older man was referring to. There was just a lot on the table, and you didn't have much time to gather everything from him given how soon the sun would set. “Has Drayton always had something against me?”

“Doesn’t like any girl I bring home,” Johnny explained. “Says it’s a distraction. Don’t know what the problem is when I can handle myself.”

“Maybe he’s just worried about you?”

“Should worry ‘bout his damn self.” Johnny rolled his eyes at that.

“Okay,” You walk over to him and hop onto the hood of the car to take a seat. “Does the rest of your family… not like me?”

Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, averting his eyes away from you as he thought about it. The man looked up at the sky, nodding his head slightly. “I… don’t really know.” He finally responded. “Sissy has her suspicions. Nubbins doesn’t really care, I know big boy likes ya’ a lot.”

“Who Bubba?”

“Yeaaah,” His grin starts to appear again. “He’s like a kid, likes it when ya’ spend time with ‘im. Yer much nicer than the rest of us.”

Well that was good to know at least. You smile at that, nodding your head to the thought. “I’m glad that he likes it when I’m around. He’s like a puppy, so energetic when he’s happy. Speaking of-“

“Oh god,” Johnny sighs out loudly. “Don’t— Don’t listen to anythin’ he said beginnin’ with that!”

“So you follow me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groans out loud, shaking his head. “I don’t follow ya’!”

“What about the skatin’ rink?”

“That was one time!” Johnny lifted his arms up as he exaggerated his lies. “That’s cause I wanted ta’ know what ya’s been doin’.”

“I mean you did break into my house,” You teased, making him huff in irritation. “Do you usually just go into places whenever you feel like it?”

The man cracked a bit, chuckling before shaking his head at you. “Breakin’ inta’ houses ain’t my usual thing. I like bein’ more… direct. If that’s whatcha call it.” Johnny shook his shoulders at the thoughts, giving the question more attention than he probably intended. “Maybe… I’ve seen ya’ a couple times in town.”

“Sneaky thing aren’t you~.”

“Indeed I am~,” He realized right away that you were making fun of him. After pushing himself off the hood, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of crumpled smokes.

“You’re not gonna smoke are you?” You ask with your eyebrows raised. “Those are bad y’know.”

“So nosey,” Johnny pulls out a cigarette and stuffs it into the side of his mouth. “Yer stressin’ me out with all these questions.”

“I can ask more.”

“Shut up.”

His grin seemed to morph into a naughty one when you were about to speak back to him. The chuckle that rumbled in his throat caused him to avert his eyes. He was aware of what you were about to say, and unlike yesterday, you were all by yourself with him. He smirked triumphantly and drew the lighter from his other pocket as you forced your mouth shut. However, you got an idea and got up off the car hood. You approach Johnny and snatch the cigarette out of his mouth. His expression was priceless and made you laugh out loud.

“Uhm…hey?” He says reaching for the cigarette before you pull it back. He licks his lips with a sly grin, nodding his head. “Ohhh, okay. So that’s what we’re doin’ hm?”

“Maybe,” You reply. “Yer funny, now give it back before I take it.”

You stood there idly, not listening to a single word Johnny said. Johnny had taken that moment of silence to look over you, before his hand rushed to grab yours. It caught you off guard, your wrist with the cigarette being taken as he pulled you towards him. The front of your body collides with his, a small grunt coming from you. Looking up at the man your eyes widen. Cheeks flushed, you feel his other hand snake around your lower back to keep you there. Oh dear… what did you just get yourself into? “Tsk tsk. Yer playin’ a dangerous game here sweetheart.” Every word in Johnny's voice is dripping with seduction, like a warning sign. “If that’s whatcha wanna do, I’m all up fa’ the challenge~.” Johnny takes the cigarette from your hand and sticks it back in his mouth. What an absolute tease. The way your body effortlessly melted into him gave the man the confidence that he could get away with it. “What~? Wish I did somethin’ else wit’ ma’ mouth?”

“If you wanted to, I’m sure you would have.” You say narrowing your eyes.

“Oh really?” Johnny says, his hand behind your back moving to place itself on your abdomen. He moved you backwards, your hands coming in contact with the hood of the vehicle you sat on earlier. “What makes ya’ think I won’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe you do it to all your other little girlfriends.”

Your statement made Johnny laugh, having to take the smoke out of his mouth before it fell out. “Awww ya’ heard that too? Jealous~?” He made your lips purse, your eyes moving away to the side of you. “I’ll amuse ya’, so how ‘bout this. Yer the only one I’ve been talkin’ to fa’ a while.”

You look back up at Johnny, who had stuffed the cigarette back in its little box. “So amused,” You roll your eyes, trying to remove yourself away from Johnny but all he did was stand in your way. He was so close to you, that he practically had you pinned against the car and him.

“Lookin’ a lil’ sour there honey.” He teased, the cigarette box being placed back in his pocket. “Still jealous~?”

“N-No…” You stammered, swallowing thickly when you tried to look away.

Johnny chuckles as he detects your lies. He was making you so anxious and driving you mad by imagining the other women he's seen. He was undeniably so close to your body that you would bump into him if you even attempted to move. His hands, which were still protected by his grime-stained gloves, advanced to your waist. When his face got close to yours, it made you hold your breath and your heart race.

“Can’t fool me darlin’, yer a terrible liar too.” His nose brushes against yours before he pulls his head back again. “I promise~, yer the only one I got eyes on.” Before you feel them move to your hips, the hold on your waist becomes tighter. You were raised back onto the car's hood a short while later. Johnny reached out and traced his fingertips along your exposed thighs without pausing. “Yer the only one I want.”

Once more, his face approaches yours, but this time he maintains his distance. The once-orange sky was beginning to turn dark, misty blue as the sun dropped below the horizon in the distance. The view in front of you now... drew you in more than ever, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him. Your head subconsciously turned in his direction as quiet breaths filled the chilly air in the silence.

“I want you too…” You say quietly, making the man in front of you grin.

“Hm?” He hums, moving himself in between your legs. “Ya’ want me?”

The man takes one moment to remove his gloves while you nod your head. He places them beside you, grabs your legs, hooks them around his waist, then grabs your hips.

“All of me?”

Your hands that had been resting on the hood, came and cupped the sides of his cheeks. “Yes,” You reply. “I want all of you, Johnny.”

“Ya’ sure?” The male wasn’t hesitant, he just knew what both of you were going to get into. You knew this yourself, and you nodded once more. “Good, cause I’mma keep ya’ aaaaall to myself~.”

The man's lips had touched yours at that point. Your entire body experienced waves of arousal as well as butterflies throughout your stomach. His touch was felt, and the satisfaction from his lips lingered on your own. It appeared as though he was directing you through every step due to the way they moved so perfectly alongside yours. He tasted metallic and minty, with a hint of tobacco.

He pulled back from the kiss as his bare hands took hold of the hem of your sundress and raised it just a bit. As he moved from your earlobe to the side of your neck, his lips made contact with your jaw. You start to gasp softly as Johnny grazes your neck with his teeth and nibbles on your tender flesh. He leaned down to your collarbone and softly sucked on the skin there, creating a small hickey in the process. A reminder of what was his.

“Drivin’ me crazy sweet pea,” He mumbled in the crook of your neck, his calloused hands massaging the top of your thighs. The more he dragged on his throbbing need for you, the more vigorously he kneaded them. “Might not be able ta’ hol’ back much longer.”

Your legs are still around Johnny's waist as he pulls away from you, but you move your eyes. They proceeded on to the growth that pressed up against his jeans and the obvious indent of his own erection in a sizable tent. You shiver at the sight.

“Gettin’ cold?” He asks, the man lifting you from the car hood.

“A little,” You half admit, your hands hanging onto his shoulders. “Didn’t think you’d care much.”

Johnny chuckles as he lowers you and unlocks the car door. The man poked his head inside and looked around as it rustled. The back window and the opposite side of the car were covered in sunflowers, and the only damage it appeared to have was a couple rips in the back seats. He moves and motions for you to enter with his hand. A hefty slap on the ass greets you as you crawl inside after taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it within. You yelp as you turn to face Johnny, who dove with a grin on his face.

Before climbing on top of you, he crept into the car and shut the door behind him. The man lowered his head back to your face as your back pressed up against the seat cushions and your head leaned forward. “I’ll warm ya’ up real good baby girl,” He adds as he presses his hands firmly on your lovely outfit. He raises it, revealing your (color) underwear, and wraps his fingers around them.

Once he begins pushing the thin cloth up to your thighs, his lips come into touch with yours. As it slides down your ankles, he grabs them, taking them off your legs. He hums and pulls away from the kiss as you move your dress subtly with your hands to cover any views he might have.

“Hidin’ from me?” Your head slams against the seat as his enormous hand grabs both of your wrists and moves you lower with his other hand. He raises the clothing up to reveal you while pinning your arms above your head. As a result of Johnny's position, your legs were unable to even close completely, so he only huffed amusedly as you attempted. “Be a good girl and I might be gentle.”

“You better be gentle,” You blurt out loud, earning a hefty laugh from Johnny.

“Riiiight, forget yer still a virgin~.” He sees you pucker your lips, Johnny taking the opportunity to peck them, making you groan. “Take this off will ya’? I wanna see everythin’.”

As you sit up to remove your sundress, Johnny draws back as you blink at him before nodding. You slipped your flats to the ground, nervously staring at Johnny as your sundress joined the pair of shoes. He had taken off his torn-up, black muscle shirt as you were doing this. The muscles you previously noticed were considerably more impressive up close. The scars, the little chest hair, and the flexed appearance of his arms. God, just looking at him made your pussy throb.

With such precision, he swiftly tossed his belt on the ground. Johnny’s boots were kicked off soon after, his jeans going down his legs and off his ankles. “God… jus’ look at ya’…” The man was in awe, his cock so strained that the boxers it held were pleading for release. He spread your legs open, looking down at you as he took in every inch of your body with his eyes.

Johnny gives you another kiss, this time with his lips flowing against yours and his hands encircling you. He releases the clip from your bra, allowing it to fall as you adjust it to the side. The man was gentle, even attentive. His fingers stroked over you as if you were a work of art. A canvas that he was so tempted to ruin yet was too delicate to damage.

“Mmhn… I want you… Johnny…” Your words were said between kisses, the ones that got more rough with every passing moment.

Johnny pulls back, his pants evident while his lust for you grew immensely. “Yeah?” His voice is low, deep with pure emotion.

You can feel his fingers rubbing against the slit in your pussy at that very instant. They have an unfamiliar, somewhat unusual feel about it that makes you flinch with curiosity. Before shutting, your eyes lock onto his, and as he rubs his thumb on your clit, you let out a gasp. Oh he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo.

His eyes dart between you and your aching cunt as the pad of his thumb experimentally strokes your clit. You covered your face in embarrassment at the quiet grunts and tiny moans you let out. But Johnny appeared to enjoy it. How your confidence and shyness seem to win his favor equally. The unintentional bucking of your hips to increase your pleasure.

“So wet fa’ me darlin’~,” Johnny purrs, his hand adjusting itself. “I could jus’…”

“Ahh~!”

With his words, Johnny’s finger enters your pussy. Your back begins to sag, and you whimper. The man does this while touching your breasts with his free hand and kissing them. You felt dizzy with excitement as he pinched your nipples and took them between his teeth. Your body burned at his touch and you wanted more.

Your body tensed and jerked in response to the excitement that shot through your abdomen, his finger began curling in the most sensitive parts. Johnny was relentless, making sure that none of his actions left you even the tiniest bit untouched. That was until he slipped in another into your tight hole. This time it felt uncomfortable, and you expressed that feeling too.

“E-Eh… it hurts…” You whine softly, your hands gripping on Johnny’s biceps.

“I know baby,” He says, sending a kiss to your jaw. “Need ta’ stretch ya’ out fa’ me.”

You were speechless when you considered that Johnny was bigger than his fingers. Your hand, let alone your fingers, were much smaller than his. The discomfort you are experiencing right now undoubtedly pales in comparison to what you saw—er, see—in his boxers. He appeared to be on the larger side. Jesus…

Your face twitches as you notice him starting to up his pace. As his motions intensify, the buildup in your abdomen begins to expand and keeps growing. He was skilled with his hands, and within minutes you were on the verge of bursting. As your pussy throbs on his digits, the space between your walls gets smaller as he stares at you with half-lidded eyes. He hums as a result of your hold on his biceps, which also serves as a visual cue that you are close.

“J-John-ny… ah~ s-slow down…” You whine out, your words not phasing him in the slightest. The discomfort had faded to pleasure, your head hitting the window as your legs started to shake.

Curling his fingers he presses against your g-spot, making you squeal. He was merciless, fucking you with his fingers alone made you dizzy. “Thought about this all fucking day,” He growls, his voice cracking with lust. “Always on ma’ damn mind… fuck~, wanna make ya’ cum darlin’.”

“I… wanna cum.”

Johnny looks at you with a grin, his head tilting. “Ya’ wanna cum fa’ me baby?”

He nods slightly in response to your head nod. The man had corrected himself, lowering his body and bringing his face to your pussy. You tighten up as a new feeling begins abruptly, your eyes widening. Johnny places his tongue on the swollen bud of your genitalia, the muscle twitching as he started lapping at it. While his fingers occupy the space within, he suctions and pleases you with his lips. The sensation of lowering your hands and grabbing Johnny's hair in your fingers was irresistible.

“Mmhn~! Johnny… fuck! J-Johnny ple-ase!”

Johnny had been humming along to your moans as they reverberated around the vehicle. Your stomach's coil finally burst, your eyes clamped shut, and your back arched in ecstasy. As he holds you down, Johnny pulls his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your hips with both of his hands. Your climax is coursing through your body as he continues to devour your pussy. His hair was being held in place by your hands so tightly that you worried you may rip it out. Your thighs were gripping the sides of his head as if you were going to break his skull.

“N-No! Waitwaitwait– Johnny!!”

As his mouth violently began sucking on your clit, you begged him to stop. The man, however, remained still, and you then experienced a new feeling. Your cunt gushes, Johnny groaning before quickly removing his face away from your sensitive core. Your grip on his dark hair, which had been locked in your fingers, loosened as you panted. His hands holding onto your hips relaxed while he chuckled. The man licked his lips and then ran his tongue against his teeth as he raised himself to his knees, which kept him on the seat's cushions. You stare at him in the hot atmosphere of a cool night. His chin down to his chest was slickly covered in your juices, he wore it like a medal as it glistened on his skin. A giggle escaped his thin lips as he raised his hand to wipe his face. “Did I just–”

“Squirt all over me? Yes, yes you did~.”

You blushed madly, setting a hand over your mouth and looking away from him. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

Johnny grinned, “These hands work wonders darlin’.” He ran his hand over your pussy again before patting it, making you jolt at his soft motions.

“Eh– Ah! H-Hey! I’m still sensitive...” You whined.

“Oh I know,” Johnny said, pulling the hem of his boxers down. His cock emerged from that piece of clothing after it had fallen. Although the image had your mouth watering, you were uneasy about having that inside of you. “Bein’ sensitive is the bes’ part. Yer gonna be screamin’ ma’ name as I fuck ya’ senseless~.” You gasp when Johnny moves in between your legs, pulling them apart as he grips his twitching cock. He pumps it slowly, taking a moment to coat your juices on his hard length. Moments later, he lines himself up with your hole, running the loose strands of his now messy hair back.

“You don’t need me to do anything? I mean– I can… you know…” You tried to find the right words, but feeling the head of his cock press against you distracted your thoughts. “Nah, we’ll get ta’ that some otha’ time.” He says, leaning down to you. “I jus’ wanna be inside ya’~.”

His lips make contact with yours, and the sudden penetration makes you tense up immediately. You try to release, but the more he pushes the more pain surged through your lower body. When he pulls back from you, he stares into your eyes, a sudden wickedness appearing in his own. All of a sudden he bucks his hips forward, his mouth opening agape when his full length is inside of you. You whimper out in pain and pleasure. You felt so full that your walls could only squeeze around him, and so sensitive that a simple adjustment made you groan with pleasure. “A… warning would’ve been nice.” You glare at him, the man taking your body and pulling you back down to lay on the cushions. “Oops~.” He purrs, a small moan coming from his throat. Johnny takes your legs and wraps them around his waist again. “Want me ta’ go slow?”

“So considerate,” You say, watching as the man comes down to you.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

The man pulls his hips back before slamming back into you, your eyes widening at the feeling. A shocked gasp wakens the night, and Johnny continues to fuck you like the man he is. Hard, deep, thrusts that send your toes curling, and your hands to dig into his back that you held onto for dear life. The jolts of pure pleasure send you into a state of ecstasy, your mouth sending out nothing but pure, uncontrollable moans.

“God baby— fuck~! Yer clampin’ on me— shit— uh~.” Johnny moans at you, his eyes watching every single detail of how your body craves him. “All mine… all fuckin’ mine— god!”

His head dips to your neck, placing firm kisses as his hand grip the sides of your ass. He lifts you up slightly, his cock beginning to drill into your tight pussy.

“AHH~!! Ohmygodohmygod~!!” Your voice sounded so beautiful, getting louder every moment he bucked his hips into you.

Johnny mutters under his breath, stopping and pulling his cock out from you. “Turn around baby,” He motions, watching as you quickly get on your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass, making him tap one of the cheeks teasingly. “Fuckin’ tease.”

“Your the one who stopped when it was getting good.” You roll your eyes.

He scoffed, slapping your ass in which made you jump. “Ass up ya’ little shit.”

You smile, arching your back as he positions himself against you once more. While Johnny stuffs his cock back inside of you, you chuckle as you feel both of his hands on your ass. Oh, if he wasn't ramming into you before, he sure was doing it now. This position made things a lot easier for him to access. In the deepest places, most sensitive areas, as soon as he hit that sweet spot that’s all he ever did.

“Tryna get away~?” He grips your hips as you try to pull yourself away, pulling you back on his cock. You squeal, your head shoving itself down in the cushion of the seat while your legs shake tremendously. “Ahhh~ fuck yer tightenin’.”

“Feels s’ good— ah— fuckfuck mmhn~!”

“Say it again,” Johnny bends down slightly to take your neck into his hand. “Fuckin’ say it again!”

Tears brim in your eyes as his thrusts make your stomach clench, your eyes practically rolling back into your skull. “It feels good!! AHH~!! You feel so good Johnny!!”

“That’s right love, take it~ Take it~!”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train as your body trembles. As Johnny continues to abuse your g-spot, you scream, your delightful climax intensifying to the point where tears are streaming down your face. As the man squeezed your neck, the shortage of oxygen caused you to start seeing stars as you gushed once more on him. Your voice breaks when he lets go of you, and your head is fuzzy as he fucks you for the remainder of your climax.

His low murmurs and grunts escalate to become louder growls and moans. He gave you a hard slap on the ass and grasped it tightly. Both cheeks took turns getting reddened handprints. The man's thrusts were more eager, and he was grinning broadly.

“I fuckin’ needed this— uh~ fuck I needed you~ Doin— mhm~ this ta’ me~…” Johnny threw his head back, taking in his own pleasure. The man was close to cumming, his thrusts starting to become sloppier than they were before. “I’m so close… Y/n, say my name.”

“Johnny…“ Your brain was mush, barely being able to comprehend what you had heard.

He slaps your ass, hard, making you yelp in surprise. “Louder~.”

“Johnny!” You moan louder.

Another firm slap, making you whimper out. “Scream my fuckin’ name~!” He positions himself, his cock pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in.

“AH~! Johnny— FUCK~!” You scream out, the continuous jerk of his hips driving you wild. “Johnnyjohnnyjohnny— ohh my— MMHN~! JOHNNYYY~!!!”

“That’s… fuckin’… ohh~ fuck~ ha— ah ahhhh~.”

Johnny stops moving and embraces your cunt with his pulsing cock. His hot cum shoots ribbons into your pussy, coating the walls of your womb with his thick sperm. His pants were just as heavy as yours, and the air in the car smelled strongly of sex. Your head turns to look back at him only to realize he had leaned down, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he huffed. Both of you stayed silent for a while, admiring each other, which was a little different for Johnny.

“You okay?” He asks breaking the airs silence, making you smile again.

“Yeah… just really hot.”

Johnny grinned and drew his cock away from you. Both of you sigh as the feeling suddenly slips away. He settles down and observes while you prepare to follow suit. When he notices you struggling, he smiles before grabbing your arm and bringing you near to him. “C’mere.”

You move over to him, the side of your body pressing against his. Your entire body relaxes in his arm as your head lays against him, his body radiating a warm but comforting heat. Being around him made you feel safe… oddly enough. Though god, did your lower body throb like a mother fucker.

“Still gonna go with pretty boy on Friday?” His question lingered in the air for a few seconds before you turned your head to look at him.

“I already canceled that,” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “I have plans.”

“So you do hm?” He says with a smirk. “And what are your plans?”

Johnny understood what you meant after only seeing you grin. He gave you one back, truly pleased with your choice. His expression caused your heart to melt. He knew he had you, he claimed you as his before you even knew it. Can he… really say that this is love? Is this how it actually felt? Like the others, you were drawn in, but there was something special about it. You were the one person he really desired and cared about. The mark of his prey had been on you, his print now painted red on your body. His little red stained sunflower.

His, and his only.

@optimsluv @chernayawidow @yixxes @marriedtoeddie @iorbit @yoong1c0re @thedollmakerkai

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#johnny sawyer #johnny sawyer x reader #johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #johnny tcm #eventual smut #suggestive content #texas chainsaw game #x reader #tcm game #tcm smut #johnny slaughter smut #smut

582 notes · View notes

imbadatwrighting · 1 year

Note

can you do yugioh boys reacting to the reader beating them in a duel and refuse to have a rematch

We ain’t gonna talk about how this took me over a month, mk? I was going through some stuff ☠️☠️

Imma be making a master list soon and plan to getting to my other requests as well I’m so sorry about being inactive yall

Yu-gi-oh Boys with an S/o who beats them in a duel but won’t do a rematch

Yugi Muto

You guys played against each other as fun for a little date idea and it ended up with you winning

While Yugi wasn’t going as hard as he usually tries, he did try a little so you winning would be seen as an accomplishment between the two of you

Honestly he didn’t really care that much

He loves you too much and is just happy that you’re happy

He’s the type of boyfriend that brags about his S/o’s accomplishments

Even if you don’t think it was that big of a deal

He started to move on from it until Joey brought up that you should have a rematch

To be fair Yugi just thought of it as a little fun game but now with his friends watching but unbeknownst to him, you didn’t feel the same

Which was the perfect opportunity for Joey to pick at your skin

Despite both of you loving the same person (just in a different way) you two absolutely hated eachother

Which is honestly surprising

It’s because you’re both jealous of each other

He noticed how unwilling you were to do it but he didn’t really bat an eye, if you don’t want to do something then he’s not going to make you

He talked to you about it later though and no matter you’re reason, he tried to understand

As long as you tell he what’s going on and are honest, he’ll never be mad at you

Yami Yugi

Let’s be honest here he let you win

You know it, I know it, he definitely knows it

It doesn’t really matter how good of a player you are, he just wants you to be happy

As long as you’re happy, he’s happy

However the only problem was how obvious it was that he was letting you win

He might have thought of it as a sweet gesture, but to you he was just humiliating you

I mean in front of all your friends, your boyfriend is purposely losing because he know you can’t win???

You talked to him about it and he offered to have a rematch which you found sweet but said no to

Your hopes where crushed after he tried to let you win and you were still having difficulty

You’re not afraid to cheer him on from the stands though

He’s so fine like dios mío

Joey Wheeler

It’s was just embarrassing how easy you could win against him

It took no longer than ten minutes and it left him him feeling humiliated

He just wanted to show off his skills

No only to you but also to his friend but it didn’t really turn out that way

You and him definitely had to cuddle at your house to make him less sad

Sure it was fun to win your little game between you two but you also felt bad at how sad and disappointed you got

You also didn’t want to purposely let him win because you were never a good liar so when he found out it would only make him feel worse

Instead you just never played with him again

It didn’t matter how many times he asked or why, you weren’t playing against him

He tried everything from bribery to begging and above

He just wanted to show off his skills but you never played against him

You watched him play against others and commented on how better he was getting though which made him happy enough

There might have been one or two times where you did give in and played against him but you let him win both times which pissed him off but you found it kind of funny

Seto Kaiba

Let’s be real here you cheated

Or at least that’s what Seto likes to think

It doesn’t matter how tired he was when playing a simple game against you for mokuba he hands down believes you cheated

Like if he had to say you didn’t cheat or jump off a cliff, he choose the cliff

He also refuses to talk about it

No way in hell would be ever talk about it with you

He rather be friends with Yugi

He straight up did not talk to you for a week until you told him you cheated which didn’t but you just wanted him to talk to you again

The only thing you cheated on were your exams at school

It made him feel a little better and he asked you to go again but this time no tricks and twists

He wanted to show off to Mokuba who kept talking about the match

But when you said no, he got mad all over again

Honestly nothing you do is ever right with this man istg ☠️

#x male reader #x reader #male reader #joey wheeler #joey wheeler x reader #seto kaiba #seto kaiba x reader #yami yugi #yami yugi x reader #yugi muto x reader #x female reader #yugioh x fem reader #yugioh x male reader #yugioh x reader #yugioh #yugi muto x male reader #yami yugi x male reader #joey wheeler x male reader #seto kaiba x male reader

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11riize · 1 year

Note

lee jeonghyeon smut🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

Warning ⚠️ : roommates fucking, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex, M4F, pet names(princess,doll), size difference, filth, make out session, rough sex, strongM, kind of pervert leejeon, lmk if i forgot anything else!!

Masterlist

Part 2

It’s a regular day. Sitting at home just as usual, scrolling on your phone. You were the only person in the apartment since your roommate was busy on his errands. But you couldn’t complain because he was a serious prick. Always making fun of you and other things you could care less about. But the real problem was when he had friends over. They were noisy and arrogant just as he was. But the rent was really good for such a nice place, so you decided to stay there.

After what felt like ages of scrolling the said man walks through the door with groceries in hand. He walks past you as if your not there and goes straight to the kitchen . “Be a doll and come help me.” You here a voice call. Considering how he was kind enough to buy food you decided to help, stepping into the kitchen and putting things away. You needed to put a cereal box on the top shelf in a cabinet but couldn’t reach. Just as you were about to give up you feel a taller frame press against your smaller one, and a larger hand go over yours to put the cereal away.

In a panic you immediately turn around and look up at him, only to see his classic little smirk he does when he knows he got under your skin. “What the hell Lee..” you say and then avert your gaze. Knowing that he’s being a smug little brat and trying his little Fuck boy advances on you, of course you don’t want to feed into his bullshit. “What? What’s the matter L/N” he said, still taunting you. Gosh, as much as you hate to admit it.. he looks really hot right now.

Dark, messy hair yet sexy. Lightly tanned skin from being in the sun. Gosh, the black t-shirt that showed off his yummy biceps, and along his arms trace those veins all the way to his long slender hands that look perfect for what you were missing. His beautiful eyes that were fixated upon your face, holding emotions that you’d never know. “Gosh, has he always look this good?” You thought to yourself but was quickly caught off guard by his low voice snapping you back into reality. “How long are you gonna stare at what you can’t have?” Is what he said. Who the hell does he think he is? “What?” You respond a little annoyed at his ego. “You heard me cute stuff.” He said turning around to go to the fridge. Man, why was he such a dick. But a good looking one.

Not long after you two put the groceries away, you made the two of you some ramen. You put the bowls and take his to his door, sitting it on the floor and giving the door a good knock to alert him. “Thank you” you here the male call out. “Whatever.” You retort and make your way to your room. Man that ramen was amazing. You take the bowl to the kitchen and make your return to your room. And take a little nap

11:44pm

You wake up to a weird sound. You take a look around you dark room and spot nothing out of the ordinary. That being said you stand up and make your way to the hallway where the sounds are louder. And then coming from… jeonghyeons room?! But it sounds like he’s in pain.. “should I check on him?” You think to yourself. You stand there for a few and decide that you should go check it out. You see a small amount of light coming from his room, meaning the door was cracked. So you gather up your courage and push the door open just to reveal a sweaty jeonghyeon stroking his cock with his head thrown back. “What the hell. What do I do ?!” You screamed in your head as your eyes went large. He lifts his head and stops his movements as it settles down in his head that you just walked in on him “are you gonna stay for the show?” He ask as he continues back to his activities “I-im so sorry!!” You say but are unable to move “that’s fine.. wanna come help me?” He says, smirking at you like always. But how can you turn him down?

It’s impossible right? Well your right. So, you make you way to him while he strokes his cock watching you movements. You stop in front of him and sit on your knees, starting to feel embarrassed. You the look up at him waiting for an response. Sensing that he tells you to open your mouth so you follow. His mushroom shaped tip pushes its way past your plump lips. Soon enough it touches the back of your throat so you pull away and lower you head back down and look up at him to see how he’s responding to your ministrations. His eyes are closed and eyebrows knitted together. You swirl your tongue around the glands the down his shaft, earning a grunt from him . Not long after he grabbed you hair, pushing your head down his cock and the a warm liquid filling your mouth and senses. You pull away and swallow, a small cough coming from you.

The man stands up and lifts you to your feet. You look at him with curiosity. He leads you to his bed, where he throws you in the center of. He go on top of you and looks you in the eye briefly before devouring your lips with his own. He bit your bottom lip gently, requesting access to you so you obliged. Exploring each other with excitement and anticipation for one another. The kiss was sensual and lustful. Hot and steamy. He tugged on your shirt, requesting it off, so you sat up and discarded the clothing including your bra. His large hands leaving your waist to now play with your tits, lowering his head to suck on you left nippy. Not forgetting to show the other some affection he tends to both of them. Lowering his kisses until he reaches your underwear. He lifts his head, looking at you. You give him a nod of confirmation and that’s all it takes for him to pull them off and get to work. The feeling of warmth all over you lower half, sending a shiver down your spine. The feeling of euphoria as his tongue explores your most sensitive spotes, gently sucking and licking your bud. His long slinder middle finger finds its way to you hole, rubbing teasing circles around it and gently dipping into it. “Fuck” you grunt out, hearing a giggle from the man before feeling his finger push its way into your gummy walls, earning a louder whimper. He promptly gives you a few thrust before adding his index finger earning a strained series of a lewd moans before quickening his pace. It doesn’t take home long enough to find a weak spot and curl his fingers there while his tongue is working on your bundle of nerves. The feeling of ecstasy engulfs you but right before the wave hits fully he pulls away, chin glistening with your juices that he wipes away with the back of his hand. He leans in to kiss you to which you quickly respond to. The kiss was much more lustful now, more desire for one another and the burning fame of passion to be one. “You want this as much as me right?” He asked through the kiss. “Mhm” you hum back “words princess” he says pulling away just a little while waiting for your voice. “I wanna do it lee” you say softly. He smiles then aligns his cock with your hole, tip sliding in with ease considering how wet your cunt is. Bottoming out completely earning a loud whimper out of you. Halting his movements to let you adjust to his size. It doesn’t take long for you to get impatient “please..” you say out of eagerness for him to fill you up. Upon hearing that he delivers a series of shallow thrust to make sure you can handle him. Hearing your moans he takes that as a sign to start. Movements becoming faster and harder over time, the room stuffy from the two of you being horny fucks, and the melody of your moans and whimpers mixed with skin slapping and his own grunting and moans.

The feeling of him pounding your cunt is sending you closer to an orgasm, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you to oblivion. On the other hand he’s getting harder instead of relieving himself. The way you pussy sucks him in and tightens with every move of his cock, or the way your crying and moaning because of how good he’s fucking you. Or maybe because he’s always had little fantasies about you.. his cute little roomie. Interesting.

His cock hitting your gspot sending pleasure waves through your body pushing you to the edge. “gonna cum for me baby?” He breathed out, grip tightening on your thigh. “Mhm. So close.” You respond, orgasm approaching closer. “Cum for me then..” and that’s all it takes. Body shaking while he holds your hands, chasing his high now,His thrust becomes more frantic and strong, overstimulation occupies your senses meanwhile he’s chasing his orgasm, and with a few thrust he cums deep in your cunt, letting out a string of grunts and panting noises.

After you both calm down he pulls out and watches his cum ooze out of your hole. He reaches for tissue on the nightstand to clean you both up. “Are you ok?” He asked with his shit eating smirk on his face. “I’m fine..” you replied rolling your eyes while speaking with a huff. After you both a clean he goes to get you a shirt from his dresser and lays next to you in just his boxers. Drowsiness starts settling in as you lay next to the pretty man and you fall into a slumber. He pulls you close and falls fast asleep while keeping you near.

Dm me to be in my tag list

#leejeonhyeon #boys planet #boys planet hard hours #boys planet smut #boys planet imagines #lee jeonghyeon smut #lee jeonghyeon hard hours #leejeong smut #evnne #evnne smut #evnne x reader #evnne jeonghyeon #naomi works🩷

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cacoetheswriting · 1 year

Text

celebrity skin. (part five)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: a party from hell.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption, emotional hurt / no comfort in this chapter (sorry, she's a little angsty), blackmail, family drama, mentions of minor character death — if i missed anything, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

The venue is filled wall to wall with people, half of whom you have not met before this night. They’re swaying to the loud music, talking over one another, and indulging in various colourful drinks from the open bar.

Sitting on a sofa in the corner of the large space, you’re watching the night unfold in front of your eyes. There’s a drink in your hand, a cranberry vodka, however, you haven’t touched it yet. Instead, the ice has long melted, causing lone droplets of water to drip down your arm.

A harsh scent of alcohol fills the air. It gets stronger every time a party attendee sits next to you, congratulating you on an incredible single with the band they never thought you’d ever play with. You go with the flow, the politeness you’ve been taught from a young age showing its wings, and thank each person that engages with you for coming tonight.

They ask how this all came about, you on a song with Corroded Coffin. A collaboration for the ages.

You answer honestly, to the best of your knowledge. “The powers that be organised everything”, and the person you’re speaking with laughs at your answer. Then they ask about a topic much hotter than the new record — your relationship with Eddie Munson.

The second the curly-haired rockstar is mentioned, a smile breaches your lips.

“That’s between me and him, for now.”

Which doesn’t stop anyone from trying to invade your privacy further. Wondering, out loud and with no shame, if what they’re reading in the tabloids is true. Is it just for show, or is it real? And then it goes one of two ways:

“Hope I’m invited to the wedding. It’s shaping up to be quite the party.”

“At least you’ll make a lot of money from this arrangement.”

Not one person wishes you well. Not one person says they’re happy for you, or for the Corroded Coffin frontman. It obviously makes you wonder why because you look happy… right? Why is your relationship such a big deal if you’re clearly happy?

Don’t you look happy?

But then, in between those conversations, your gaze finds Eddie with ease. His own brown eyes land on you every single time, without fail, as if there was some sort of magnetic pull between the two of you. He smiles wide, shooting you a casual wink from wherever he’s standing at the time.

And so, you force the treacherous thoughts deep, deep down. Squish them until they’re miniscule and a problem for later — which in retrospect, not a good idea — ‘cause right this moment in time, you’re definitely happy.

Eddie makes you happy.

You’re also just glad to see the rockstar is having fun, considering how reluctant he was to leave the comfort of his own home. He’s mingling and laughing. A pep in his step as he orders another drink. After all, parties are his element.

“God, my poor fucking feet hurt so much,” Holly sighs, dropping down next to you with an elegant bounce. “I honestly don’t know how you can perform in heels for multiple nights in a row when I can’t even make it through a couple of measly hours.”

You laugh. “No pain, no gain.”

“Okay, Magic Johnson.” Holly snorts while playfully rolling her eyes.

“Actually, I’d prefer to be Patrick Ewing,” you correct her, it’s a tease with a slight dramatic flare, “‘Cause who am I if not a New York Knicks fan.”

The giggle that escapes your friend is infectious. In between the lighthearted chuckles, she does her best not to spill the fruity drink in her hand, pressing the glass to her lips and taking a sip. She relaxes into the sofa, legs now extended outwards, a hazard to anyone walking by.

“Speaking of New York, when are you taking the rockstar to meet your parents?” Holly probes, brow raised.

“Oh god,” you dramatise in response, “That’s like a super serious thing, no? I don’t think we’re there yet.”

But Holly doesn’t give up as easily, seeing right through the front you didn’t even realise you were putting up. As your best friend, she knows you better than anyone. That includes moments like these, when you’re minimising feelings out of fear.

“Babe, be for real. He has already met your grandma and she’s arguably a lot more important than your parents.” Holly states, taking another quick sip of her cocktail. “No offence to Alicia and Brad, but we all know your family is ruled by the little lady who already hates your boyfriend.”

You sigh. She’s obviously right.

“So, what’s the real reason you don’t wanna take him home?”

Glancing over at Eddie, who’s lost in conversation with the producers of your record, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering what to say to her. “Because I’m scared it’s all moving too fast,” would be an appropriate answer to the question, but then again that’s not entirely true.

Holly nudges your arm and you turn your attention back to her immediately.

“I’ve just been really happy in our little bubble these last few months and I’m afraid if we venture further out into the real world, we’ll lose that feeling.”

Raw, honest. It’s a scary thing to say, but Holly doesn’t judge. She never does. Instead, her arm makes way around your shoulders and she squeezes you lightly when your head rests against her skin.

“With the way the two of you look at one another, I bet my sanity that you’ll be together for a very long time.”

And you hope she’s right.

Eddie walks up to where you’re sitting shortly after, politely asking your friend if he could steal a moment alone with you. Holly of course agrees, saying something about finding Jeff ‘cause he looks mighty fine tonight and she’s a little buzzed, “If you know, you know.”. You watch with a smile as she disappears between the dancing bodies while Eddie sits in the now empty spot, casually placing a hand on your thigh.

“Having fun?”

“I am,” you answer and lean in closer to place a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Even more now.”

He smirks at you. “I’m glad, baby.”

“Seems you are too.”

“I am.” Eddie nods, free hand now holding your jaw, as he leans in to capture your lips with his own.

The kiss is short and sweet, but like everything you and the rockstar do, it attracts attention from pretty much everyone in the room. A click of the camera, a flash of light. But neither of you care. Looking instead into each other’s eyes once you pull apart, as if you’re the only people at this party.

Even though putting a label on things wasn’t entirely necessary, it definitely cemented whatever feelings are floating within your core. And Eddie feels the same way. He actually feels a lot more than he’s willing to admit out loud. Partially because he’s always battled commitment issues, mainly because he’s really afraid of losing you.

Again.

Eddie Munson loved a good party.

This wasn’t always the case, since during his teenage years he was often excluded from every single guest list. Then he started dealing. Suddenly, the metalhead was a hot ticket, and even though people still didn’t care for his company, they liked the stuff he brought. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like the attention — as fake as it may have been.

Once Corroded Coffin made it big, and Eddie realised that people actually wanted to party with him for who he was, and not the drugs he had access too, (although, for some, it was a little bit of both), the rockstar decided he was going to throw the best damn parties Hollywood has ever seen.

It quickly became second nature. Make money, then spend it just as fast so other people can have a good time.

When the drinking, and other activities, got a little out of control, the guys tried to talk some sense into their friend with a little tough love: “Dude, those people don’t give a fuck about you! They only wanna hang out with you, ‘cause you’re rich.”. But Eddie was too far gone and he didn’t care to stop. His house was full of people every single weekend, most of whom he knew, and for the first time in his miserable life, the rockstar felt like the most important person on the goddamn planet. There was no way he was letting go of that feeling.

Then August ‘92 happened.

The evening started off as nothing special. Just another pool party to combat the unbearable Los Angeles heat. It was a common occurrence during the summer months, so Eddie didn’t think that night was going to be any different.

Surrounded by a group of girls that undoubtedly only want to get in his pants, he’s laughing at the unfunny jokes and taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t need to refill his own drinks, the “groupies”, as Marianne calls them, gladly do it for him.

They’re brushing up against him and flirting with no shame while batting their lashes. Eddie usually eats this shit up. Matter of fact, he should be loving every second of it right now, but his focus has long shifted elsewhere, the girls a mere distraction from the actual object of his attention and desire.

From the corner of his eye, he’s watching you.

Jesus Christ. Eddie can’t believe you came. He can’t believe you’re actually here, at his house, seemingly enjoying yourself. And to say you looked fucking hot would be the understatement of a century. Splayed out on one of the lounge chairs, hiding from the sun, you’re wearing a white cotton blouse and skimpy denim shorts, and Eddie aches for his current conversation to be over so he can go and officially introduce himself to you — like he should have at the Grammys.

“Eds, do you want another drink?”

He barely registers the question, even with the girl who has her hand on his bare bicep, rubbing up and down rather seductively. Instead, the rockstar notices how you stand up and look around the party once, before walking in the direction of his big house. So Eddie thinks that now’s his chance, perhaps the only one he’d get, and following a quick internal monologue to pep himself up, he leaves the group of ladies disappointed, following you inside.

That was almost the last party Eddie threw.

You flipped this switch inside of him, one the rockstar didn’t even know existed. After that night, he no longer wanted attention from just anyone. Taking centre stage in his mind — and heart — was America’s favourite sweetheart. Even when he royally fucked things up, he only thought about you.

Though for a number of lonesome weeks, he wasn’t sure you were thinking about him since his actions proved nothing more than borderline douchey. So Eddie fell back into self-destructive behaviour just as fast as he scrambled out of it. The parties got louder, he became more obnoxious.

September 1992. Saturday Night Live.

That will be a night his band, his management, his friends, and even his fans, will never let Eddie forget. Unfortunately, for all the wrong reasons.

The drinks pre-show were free and Eddie had a mountain of feelings he desperately needed to get over, along with memories he wanted to bury deep, until they were nothing but specs of dust, flashes that didn’t resemble anything — especially not you.

He did his best not to slur his words during the live performance, and for the most part, he succeeded. Although that didn’t really matter since anyone in the rockstar's vicinity could clearly tell he was intoxicated. Eddie, leaning half his weight on the microphone, round sunglasses covering his bloodshot eyes, should have never been allowed to set foot on the stage that night.

Let alone twice.

Under the dim stage light, as they hoped to conclude their last song without a major incident, Eddie’s band mates were exchanging worried glances. The Corroded Coffin frontman had a couple more drinks in between sets and was barely able to follow along with the music.

Thankfully, behind the scenes, Marianne convinced production to shift the cameras away from unravelling Eddie, even switched off his microphone, and the only people left witness to his drunken mess were the folks present physically.

Eddie on the other hand couldn’t have cared less about how he was behaving since the alcohol didn’t numb him like he hoped, instead the thought of you being somewhere in the same city, overpowered his senses. Would it be crazy to hope you were watching? Would it be crazy to think that despite how rudely he treated you, you’d still show up like you both talked about?

Would it be crazy to try and find you? Search New York, high and low, in hopes that someone knows someone, who knows someone else, that knows where you live?

Instead, against his better judgement and everyone else’s rather aggressive protests, Eddie goes to the after party planned in his name.

Unsurprisingly, you didn’t come.

His black out was imminent.

The damages done to the restaurant came to just under five thousand dollars. The stress from keeping it out of the press robbed his team about two years of their life, so Marianne says.

And that was the last party Eddie threw.

Considering how out of control things had gotten, how out of control he had become at some point during the night while thinking about you with every drink that burned down his throat, it could’ve been a lot worse.

Eddie still only thinks about you. Difference being, now, almost a year later, you are attending a party together, and the alcohol no longer tastes like regret.

When he looks at you, like he is right now, under the fluorescent club lights, his heart increases tenfold. He wants to kiss every inch of your face, hold you close because that’s where you belong.

Things simply got better because he owned up to his mistakes and learned to open himself up to love, as scary as that feeling is sometimes. He’s not second guessing your intentions, because that would be cruel. He just loses himself in his doubts sometimes, since in the past, no pretty girl has given him the time of day without wanting something in return.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Eddie whispers against your lips, thumb gently grazing along your cheekbone. He proceeds to tell you how you make life a little more normal, and he’s grateful for it, despite always wanting fame. You tell him how attention is nothing if it doesn’t come from the right person, and he agrees, brown locks bouncing as he nods his head. Then he kisses you again.

And this kiss is arguably a lot more urgent than the last. Eddie is hovering over you entirely. One hand remains holding onto your face, while the other is on your waist, pushing you deeper into the sofa.

You can hear another click of a camera in the distance and despite your better judgement, that voice in the back of your mind, closely reminiscent of your Nana’s, telling you to push your boyfriend away, you slide your hands up his back and cling closer to him.

An inch of regret courses through your veins the following morning when you receive a call from your quite displeased team, “what the hell were you thinking?!”. You deflect. Unwilling for anyone to burst through the happy bubble you’ve found yourself in, you blame them for poor organisation and security ‘cause who even allows cameras to be brought into a private Hollywood event.

That regret is unfortunately also accompanied by a killer hangover and very little memory of what else has happened the night prior.

The empty spot in bed, usually home to a set of wild brown locks, should have been a warning sign ‘cause Eddie never woke up before you, especially after a party. You find him in the kitchen, at the spot where the two of you first met. His head is in his hands and you’re instantly feeling worried.

The happy bubble threatening to burst.

“Hey,” you croak, hoping to get his attention, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s as still as a statue. He doesn’t acknowledge your presence, or your question, and the worry in the pit of your stomach increases tenfold. So you approach him, movements slow due to the banging headache as well as the apprehension given your boyfriend's current position. Only when your hand hesitantly reaches his back, rubbing once downward while you position yourself next to him, Eddie lifts his head and tilts it to the side, finally meeting your eyes.

“Had a good night?” Eddie asks, shifting his stance so that your hand falls down to your side. This should have been a second warning; him trying to avoid physical contact.

“Y-yeah,” you force a smile, thinking that it’s needed, “You?”

“Not really,” he answers a little too quickly.

His brown eyes scan yours, for what exactly, you’re a little too hungover to realise. But the longer he stares at you, the worse you begin to feel. A certain dread spreads through your insides, causing your stomach to drop. What’s happening right now? Actually, what happened in the late hours of last night that’s causing this sudden rift between you and the rockstar.

“What’s going on, Eddie?”

The tone of your voice is so quiet, you’re unsure he’s even heard you. But then a sigh escapes his lips. He briefly glances towards the back door, out towards the pool, before settling his gaze back on your frame.

“I think we made a mistake,” he says a little too bluntly. “I-I don’t think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm… This is nothing on you, sweetheart. I’m just not the relationship type.”

Dumbfounded, is a little too plain to explain the feeling that you’re experiencing at this very moment. Betrayed would be a better word, but that would mean Eddie is after saying those things. That he’s really after shattering your entire world in the space of a few mere seconds. Betrayed would mean your gut instinct, the one you have ignored ever since you’ve met the Corroded Coffin frontman, was always correct: he was no good.

Used, is how you begin to feel as Eddie continues to list reasons for why he can’t actually be your boyfriend and how you’re better off simply being friends with benefits, or whatever it is the two of you had been over the last few months. Used fuels the anger inside of you because, to you, deceit is worse than cheating. And he seems so nonchalant about it, which only adds to the fire.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Eddie stops mid another lame excuse and for the first time this morning, he reaches for your hands, fingers gently grazing against your skin, which only adds to the pain you’re beginning to endure.

“Sweetheart…”

“No, no.”

You retreat, unwilling to let the rockstar hold you since he’s after breaking your heart like it was worth nothing — Jesus H. Christ, this is some sick and twisted deja vu.

Instead, you cross your arms across your chest like a shield while taking a step away from the man you realised now you definitely loved, yet one that clearly didn’t love you.

“I-I guess I’m just confused as to what’s changed since last night—”

“I’m not the relationship type,” Eddie cuts in, repeating what he’s already said, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel anything towards you. I like you, sweetheart. A lot.”

“Eddie, come on,” you scoff, tears threatening to breach through the confines of their home, “Do you realise how ridiculous you sound right now? If you feel something towards me, I-I don’t get how being called my boyfriend and being exclusive with me is the worst thing on the planet.”

When he doesn’t immediately reply, you continue.

“Unless that’s it. You don’t want to be exclusive because the thought of keeping your dick in your pants when I’m not around is too difficult, or having other people throw themselves at you and not immediately act on it is something Eddie Munson simply cannot do.”

“That’s not it,” the rockstar interjects.

“Then fucking enlighten me, Eddie, because you’re making no fucking sense right now!”

Again, he doesn’t say anything. And it’s precisely because he’s not showing any willingness to be honest with you right this moment, after endless prior conversations about how that’s the one thing he will always be, you decide for your own sanity that this isn’t a relationship you can fight for.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

Three words you’ve spoken to him before, only this time they hold a lot more weight. This time, they signal an end to something that was only after getting a proper beginning. The end of America’s favourite popstar and the Corroded Coffin frontman — a headline that broke on Page Six the very next morning.

Eddie watches you leave. Frozen in his spot as you rush back to the bedroom the two of you have shared the last few months. And his heart aches because unbeknown to you, this is not what he wanted to happen.

Unbeknown to you, this is not how he actually feels. He doesn’t want to end things with you so soon after they’ve begun. He wants you. He wants to be your boyfriend, if not more.

He just can’t.

Last night’s party was the main catalyst behind the rockstar’s actions this morning. The attendance of a certain someone that wasn’t actually invited was a shock to Eddie’s drunken system, and the reason behind why he simply can’t tell you anything, especially the truth.

(Not right now anyway.)

Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde was the only person Eddie loved before meeting you.

Despite not ever being anything more than friends, at least on a physical level, for the longest time, Chrissy was Eddie’s only supporter. The only person to show him kindness and shower him with care he undoubtedly deserved.

Chrissy encouraged Eddie to follow his dreams, pursue a career in music, because out of everyone in Hawkins, she truly believed in his talent.

Then she died.

Suddenly, Eddie was not only left with a hole in his heart, but he also found himself at the centre of a murder investigation. Despite being declared innocent, her death nothing but a freak accident, the scars on the rockstar’s body remind him of the events of March ‘86 to this very day.

He told you a little about what happened, just failed to mention Chrissy. Not for any particular reason, he just doesn’t talk about her as a rule — unwilling to reopen the wounds he so desperately tried to heal over the years.

And because he doesn’t talk about Chrissy, or mention her name and what she meant to him, Eddie never expected her to be brought up.

Especially not a Hollywood party of all places.

Eddie first spotted your grandmother mid-performance of the band’s single with you. She approached him shortly after, when you excused yourself to take some shots with Holly, leaving the frontman alone.

“Even I cannot deny that it’s a good song,” she states simply, as Eddie eyes her suspiciously.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I don’t think you were on the guest list.”

She scoffs. “Just like my lovely granddaughter, I can get myself on every single list I want, and even though I don’t necessarily want to be here, I do have something to tell you.”

Eddie cocks a brow, “Oh yeah?”

“Hawkins is a lovely little town,” she says, not missing a beat. “It’s quaint. Reminds me of a place I spent hiding my pregnancy all those moons ago, but that’s a story for another time. Or not. Depends how well you listen to me right now.”

“What do you want?”

“Does my granddaughter know about Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie’s face falls the second Chrissy’s name escapes your grandmothers painted lips, though he doesn’t get a chance to actually reply to the question, because she’s quick to continue with her agenda.

“I suppose not. Your uncle Wayne was really quite open to tell me about her though, about what she meant to you.”

She pauses, tilting her head to one side.

“I am sorry for your loss, Edward.”

Another brief pause.

“Yet I can’t help the curiosity, why didn’t you tell my baby about this girl if she supposedly played such a big part in you pursuing your dreams?”

“Don’t do this—”

“Do what, Edward? I’m just trying to learn more about the boy my naive granddaughter is willing to risk her entire career for. Again, your uncle Wayne was very helpful in this department, considering you practically shunned me from the dinner I organised for this exact reason.”

“Listen—”

“No,” your grandmother interrupts, “We both know you’re not good enough for my sweet angel and this entire Chrissy situation you are trying really hard to hide from everyone, only proves my point,” she snaps and Eddie’s feeling grateful that the place is a little too crowded and a little too noisy for anyone to hear what’s happening at this very moment.

“Edward, if you have nothing to hide, if you’re really innocent and played no part in the poor girl's death, why can’t the world know? Feel free to answer me, I’m just trying to get some insight into who my granddaughter has chosen to date.”

Eddie swallows his breath, unsure of what to say because it’s these types of conversations he’s been trying to avoid by not bringing up Chrissy.

Ever.

He didn’t do anything to the girl he loved. He is one hundred percent innocent, and the courts proved his side of the story. Yet, he’s been ridiculed and questioned left, right, and centre.

Only Max and Wayne know that the final reason as to why he’s decided to leave Hawkins behind for good, was to get away from the rumours and the people that didn’t believe him. And as he rushed to chase his dreams, he swore he’d never bring this up. Swore to never mention Chrissy’s name to anyone, or the fact that she’s been the inspiration behind numerous Corroded Coffin singles.

In a way, it was freeing. In Los Angeles, Chrissy Cunnigham was nothing but a figment of Eddie’s imagination.

Until this very moment.

“I didn’t kill her.”

“I know,” your Nana states, “But it wouldn’t take a lot to make people in Hollywood believe that you did and then your image is ruined, your career starts to decline, and the only other person that’s affected besides you and your bandmates, is the person you claim to feel something for. My granddaughter.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. He glances behind your grandmother’s shoulder to where you’re standing at the bar with Holly, laughing at something your friend has said seconds prior.

He’s happy with you. He’s happy to be known as your boyfriend.

And it’s because of that happiness, he knows he cannot ruin your life by involving you in something that happened before he was even famous.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” the rockstar mumbles in a defeated tone.

“She’s going to hurt either way,” your grandmother says, “But if you end things with her on your own, I promise to keep Chrissy’s name out of the press, so you’re only breaking my granddaughter's heart and not simultaneously ending her career.”

The metalhead hangs his head low, closing his eyes momentarily to try and gather his tipsy thoughts. His lack of rebuttal is enough for your grandmother to claim her victory. She places a hand on the rockstar’s shoulder and squeezes once, faking remorse.

“And Eddie,” she continues, “I wouldn’t tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldn’t be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, what’s more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.”

She lets her hand fall and walks out of the party with her head held high. Unseen by you and unnoticed by everyone else here, almost like a ghost. Like the conversion never happened.

But the ache in Eddie’s chest is proof enough. He knows what occurred, just like he knows what he unfortunately needs to do — which is break your fucking heart.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @astheni-a , @bebe07011

#sorry this took a while eek.#also sorry she’s rather angsty #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson story #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #celebrity skin.

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gimmethosedaddymilkers · 2 years

Text

Arthur Morgan Headcannons

I just wanted to write some headcannons, about Arthur, literally anything, I don't care what it is exactly so that's what you're getting.

Some of the headcannons might be a bit more oriented towards a female reader, but not all, I myself am a woman, so, I'll more than likely put some in.

Arthur Morgan is a man who will gladly enjoy any person, regardless of size, but let's be real, I think he has a bit of a soft spot for bigger women. Chunky or thicc, he likes 'em

He thinks that with more there, there's more for him to grab and less of a chance that he'll break something when he's with you, whether it's in a bit more intimate situation, or even when he's just giving you a small hug or kiss.

Arthur is extremely observant. He pays attention to the things you like, and he is literally always on top of doing the things you like or buying you whatever will make you smile.

If he finds out how much you like his voice? Uses it against you, because he doesn’t want to torture you, but he does want to see you riled up.

You like how warm he is? He’ll always be watching to see when you get cold, and the moment you do he’s right behind you with his arms around your waist.

Arthur has a SEVERE gambling addiction. You thought his smoking was bad? He plays poker almost every single night that he’s in camp, and sometimes it’s a blessing and others it’s a curse. He can go rounds at a time, winning each one, but as soon as he has one bad round, they all go bad, but he’s never willing to give up until you make him, and by the end of the ordeal he’s lost more money than made.

He also has a huge ego problem, obviously he’s mentally ill and he’s depressed with who he is as a person, and he doesn’t think very highly of himself, but the moment you manage to boost his ego, that little swagger walk of his that you so dearly love grows more confident.

Hell, sometimes even you just saying good morning can change his whole mood, and he’ll even be nice to other people in camp when he usually only tolerates them.

Arthur has this thing, that when he leaves camp for a certain amount of time, anything that’ll be longer than a day really, but usually when its about a week of being away. He’ll come back to camp, make a beeline for you, and whisper only loud enough for you to hear “Can you be quiet for me while I fuck you or do I have to take you outta camp?”

And thus, you are prepared, obviously.

He’s like a dog in heat, mainly because he hadn’t been with anyone in so long and after a while he’d stopped going after working girls. No one had really made his body react like you did, so it never became a problem until he got with you.

He draws you all the time, obviously he draws, he’s got a whole sketchbook dedicated to it, but he draws you almost any chance he can. Not because he’s some corny “I love you more than life itself” kind of person, which, he is, but because he thinks that out of everyone in camp you are the most fun to draw, your features are just more entertaining and enjoyable to make out with a pencil.

Arthur loves to eat good food, and while Pearson does a decent job it’s not exactly what he would consider gourmet food, so whenever he gets the chance to try new food, or get good food at least, he’ll splurge the money. The only reason he hasn’t gotten completely fat, though he is a little on the chubbier side, which you absolutely love, and think is hot as hell, is because of all the work he does for the gang.

He calls you all kinds of nicknames and pays attention to the ones that get the biggest reaction out of you.

He’s found that Princess does a particularly great job at getting a rouse out of you, but he’s also found that if he says it in his normal tone it doesn’t have the same effect, he has to lower his voice for it to work the way he wants it too.

Darlin’ and Sweetheart have about the same effect, although Darlin’ seems to make you feel a little more for him in serious situations.

Sugar makes you go beet red in the face, and he’s figured out that one is another one he can lower his voice for.

Honey is one that he thinks you like, but he also thinks you’re a little neutral on it. Sometimes it works, other times you just don’t seem to care that much. You’ll answer to it, but that’s about all.

Good Girl, or My Girl, regardless of tone, but especially when lowered, always gets you messed up and he knows it, which is exactly why he waits until you’re at the fire surrounded by the gang to whisper it in your ear.

On the other hand, you have only a few nicknames for him.

Cowboy, it’s tried and true, describes him, basically to a Tee, although Outlaw works better.

Honey, again, a neutral one.

You are the only person, and I mean, only person he allows to call him Pretty Boy, if anyone else tries it they’re liable to find a knife beneath their neck.

Big Boy will send him skyrocketing, his face will flare so hard his ears will turn red and he’ll start stuttering over his words like a newborn calf stumbling on its legs.

Good Boy will really get him motivated and usually if you say it to him in public, he has to excuse himself until he gets rid of his problem.

You hate to admit it, because you know it’s bad for him, but you think that when he smokes cigarettes, he’s at one of his hottest points. When he finds this out, he makes it his goal to smoke more around you.

Occasionally he’ll wait until you wake up and walk out of his tent shirtless and lean against the wooden poles to smoke, and he’ll send a smirk your way, that he knows you like.

When you start to share his tent together, he does the same thing, however, rather than getting up he just simply leans over you and grabs the smokes, he’ll light a match against the wagon and puff away with his hands behind his head.

His absolute favorite thing to do is smack you on the ass and run away, he thinks it’s the absolute funniest thing ever to watch you chase him, he’s got longer legs, so it’s easier to stay away from you.

He also loves it when you wear his hat, however, if you do, he’s going to use it as an excuse to take you to the tent.

If you get him drunk, first off, I’m sorry, second off, you better have a leash. He’s a lot happier drunk, he likes to sing and talk, and he compliments everyone, but he also likes to stumble around and go adventure, and if you don’t keep a good eye on him he’s liable to mount up on his horse, albeit slowly, and then make his way into the nearest town to cause mayhem.

Do not let him drink with John, because rather than being a fun loving drunk he will start trying to fight John and then the night is ruined for everyone.

He also gets more handsy when he drinks, he was already handsy before, but now, when he’s drunk and he couldn’t care less about what people thought about him, he was going to touch wherever he wanted on you.

Your stomach? He’s got his arms around it.

Your ass? Being grabbed any time he’s walking, or stumbling rather, with you.

Tits? Regardless of gender? They have been honked at least twice.

He will kiss you, if it’s on the lips or on the neck, that is anyone’s gamble.

He’ll even talk dirty to you, and not quietly like he would if he was sober, he’ll do it for everyone in camp to hear, and the only way to shut him up is to either kiss him or somehow drag all two hundred and forty pounds of him into his tent.

All in all Arthur Morgan is Arthur Morgan and if you make the decision to be his you better be ready to deal with it.

#Arthur Morgan x reader #Arthur Morgan #Rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption 2 #Rdr2 drabble #Arthur Morgan headcannons #Rdr2 Headcannons #Arthur Morgan drabble

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cielie-voss · 8 months

Note

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally.

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet.

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother.

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior.

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory.

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey.

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works.

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening.

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing.

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence.

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.”

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you.

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you.

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!”

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass.

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you.

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted.

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip.

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you!

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.”

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing.

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

“Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good.

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him.

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel.

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive.

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!”

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity.

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air.

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place.

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious.

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child.

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought.

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace.

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had.

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony.

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed.

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you.

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’.

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy.

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.”

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie.

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I…” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them.

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie.

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side.

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child.

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area.

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years.

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie.

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends.

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin.

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

___________

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

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moose-muffin · 8 months

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im new here (hiya from the hazbin tag lol) but if you do character + character requests than please PLEASE gimmie a lee!vox with ler!alastor 🙏🙏🙏hear me out... the two are fighting and al (sHocKINglY) wins out, and vox expects to like.. be beaten into the ground as a result, but nope!! he gets tickled!!! to tears!!!! smthn smthn he wasnt smilin and, yk, youre never fully dressed w/o a smile!!!

/nf to do tho ty for reading!!! <3<3

OMG OMG HELLO WELCOME I HOPE YOURE DOING GOOD YIPPEE

SO FUN FACT I WAS VERY LIKE NEUTRAL TO RADIOSTATIC BUT TONIGHT HAS BEEN (HAHAH GET IT) AN ADVENTURE AND THIS ROAD HAS BEEN SUCH A BLAST <3 THOSE TWO FUCKERS ARE SO INSTIGATIVE ITS CRAZY.

I KNOWWWW THIS AS A FIC WOULD GO C R A Z Y!!!!! IDK IF ANYONE HERE WRITE FOR VOX AND ALASTOR AND PERHAPS DOES COMMISSIONS BUT I WILL PAY!!!! PLEASE HIT ME UP OR ILL PROBABLY GO TAKE A PEAK FOR MYSELF TMR <3 AS LONG AS THATS OK ANON. (I WILL ABSOLUTELY LET IT BE POSTED AS LONG AS THE AUTHOR IS OK WITH IT WHICH USUALLY THEY ARE!!!!) IM GONNA TAKE SOME CREATIVE LIBERTIES AS I TYPICALLY DO HEADCANONS!

IM NOT USUALLY A CHARACTER + CHARACTER GIRLY SO BEAR WITH ME BUT I WILL DO MY VERY BEST!!!! HOPEFULLY I CAN DO THIS JUSTICE! IT WILL BE RANDOM HCS THAT ARE UNRELATED TOO. MY BRAIN IS A MESSY PLACE HWBSHWDBD

OK SO LIKE I KINDA MENTIONED, THEY BOTH LOOOOVE TO JUST GET UNDER PEOPLES SKIN. LOVE IT!!! ESPECIALLY ALASTOR. HES SUCH AN ASS (affectionate)

I’D EVEN SAY HE’S KIND OF AN INSTIGATIVE LER???? BRO IS DOING EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER TO GET TO TICKLE VOX LIKEEE IDK IF THAT EVEN MAKES SENSE BUT I KNOW ITS TRUE. HE WILL CASUALLY WIGGLE HIS FINGERS IN CONVERSATION, TWEAK HIS RIBS FROM BEHIND, LITTLE THINGS LIKE THAT. WELL THEYRE NOT LITTLE. ESPECIALLY NOT TO VOX WHO IS SO FLUSTERED BY IT… ITS THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING

BUT! VOX HAS STARTED TO FIGURE IT OUT. AS HE IS ALSO ONE WHO LOVEEES TO GET UNDER SKIN, HE DECIDES HE’LL DO EVERYTHING TO TRIGGER A LER MOOD IN ALASTOR. IF HE CAN TELL HE ALREADY HAS ONE, HE FINDS WAYS TO SUBTLY (WE ALL KNOW HE ISNT SUBTLE THOUGH) LEAVE A SPOT UNPROTECTED. BUT ALASTOR DOESNT WANT TO GIVE HIM THE SATISFACTION!!! HE TRIES SO HARD TO NOT GIVE IN TO VOX BC HE “WANTED TO BE THE ONE IN CONTROL” AND NOW HE ISNT AND HES #PISSED

ALSO VOX ABSOLUTELY IS HORRIFIED OF VULNERABILITY. YET HE IS ABLE TO MOVE PAST IT WITH ALASTOR HERE. SOMEHOW HE ISNT AS WORRIED ANYMORE. MAYBE HE KNOWS ALASTOR WILL REACT. HE LOVES THAT SO VERY MUCH.

AS FOR THE SPECIFIC PROMPT, OH THAT IS SO REAL!!!! ABSOLUTELY YES!!!

I DONT WRITE GOOD ROMANCE BUT LIKE UGH IMAGINE IT NOW. Alastor definitely just got himself to the V’s tower and was planning on fucking with Vox only to see he had already been kinda pissed off. Alastor wouldn’t be as satisfied if he knew he didn’t cause the frustration. He realized he could just stir the pot again. Problem solved, and what better way to solve it than using his weakness against him.. being tickled.

I’m being a little silly but genuinely Vox is so ticklish. Like most ticklish person in hell would go to him if it were an official title. That’s what I’m thinking. That being said, Alastor also knows how quickly he could get him to crumble… but wouldn’t it be more fun to take it slow.

Vox notices his presence almost immediately. He tried to ignore it as he feels his face get warm. He can’t fuck this up. He takes a deep breath and turns around. “Why hello, Alastor! What brings you to our building this evening?” He said in a semi newcaster voice. He wasn’t ready to drop the act

“Well Vox, I came here for a reason of my own but then I walked by your office and you looked so sad!” He began to walk closer to Vox. “You know, t they say you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

Vox let out a laugh that was quite clearly untruthful. “Yes Alastor I am aware! I was alone in here and so I figured I’d just save up some energy. I’m sure you understand.”

“Quite frankly I don’t,” Alastor paused, “I think maybe I could help you get that smile back.”

Vox didn’t even have to think. He knew Alastor meant he was going to tickle him. You could ask Velvette. She’s seen those two in tickle fights that lasted for DAYS. she knows what they’re capable of, or more so what Alastor is capable of.

Vox puts up a fight for maybe a couple seconds but he just loves tickles more than he can play pretend that he doesn’t <3

It works out well for them both, Alastor gets to fuck around with Vox and well, Vox gets his shit rocked!!! And he loves that more than a lot of things.

OK IM GONNA CUT IT OFF HERE BUT PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COME BACK!!!! IM ALWAYS DOWN TO HEAR WHAT PEOPLE ARE THINKING!! MAYBE ID DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS AGAIN OR LIKE ADD ONTO THIS!!! BUT I AM JUST ALL OVER THE PLACE CURRENTLY HEHE. I HOPE THESE ARE ENJOYABLE!!! (LOWKEY I WANNA ADD MORE TO THISSSS MAYBE TMR MAYBE TMR WE’LL SEE)

apologies if anything is ooc, i just do this for funsies <3

THANK YOU FOR THIS ASKK

#madi’s answers!!#hazbin hotel tickle #madis hcs up in here #lee!vox #ler!alastor #AM I BECOMINF A RADIOSTATIC FAN…????#I THINK I AM TEHEHEHE #radiostatic tickle

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pixelrushiguess · 1 month

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Hey, complicated question here.

We know Sally Acorn isn't one of your favorite Sonic characters; but would you say that she and the Freedom Fighters are so much better than the Diamond Cutters/Restoration?

Oh 100%, it’s not even close. The Freedom Fighters have the advantage of being in a comic with no ties to the games so they could really do whatever the hell they wanted, for better and for worse. And because Archie lasted so long, the Freedom Fighters had a TON of history.

The Diamond Cutters frustrate me because they’re in EVERY story now in IDW and I don’t know why. Like the most recent arc has like 15 main characters in it and it just isn’t needed, especially when the Diamond Cutters themselves aren’t particularly interesting. Tangle was kind of fun, but she doesn’t really have anything that makes her really stand out. Whisper has a tragic backstory, but her arc is completed and she just kind of exists as the comic’s punching bag whenever they need cheap drama. And Lanolin just isn’t a fun character to read. Like I’m not against the idea of a stern stick in the mud character who can be kind of mean, but you have to exaggerate it in a way that’s entertaining to read. I think a big problem with IDW is how normal all the dialogue and characters feel and I think Lanolin is a good example of why it’s a bad thing. She’s not mean in a fun way, it’s just a very real and uncomfortable way, which doesn’t make me like her, especially when she just kind of inserted herself into the cast. It’s like when a random person joins your friend group and acts like a jerk.

As for the Restoration, I hate it. I always have. It’s super restrictive to the storytelling and its characters and in my opinion, completely misses the point of Sonic and the stories he appears in. Sonic is about adventure, it’s about seeing the world and running into friends along the way. It’s why the phrase “Long time no see” was so common in the past, because Sonic and his friends weren’t a unit. They were individuals who had their own lives and would be thrust into an adventure by coincidence. Giving the cast a base of operations limits that potential and removes the adventurous spirit of the series. It also makes the cast feel like superheroes which is lame because that’s never what Sonic was about. Sonic himself doesn’t even view himself as a hero, so having this giant group dedicated to saving the world is really lame for a Sonic story, especially one that’s supposed to be cannon to the games.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic positivity #pixelrush #sally acorn #sonic idw

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

Text

Built for Love Part 6 (MBJ x Famous OC)

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of past experience with DV

A/N: I'm really excited about this one because… we are getting some fluff and smut with minimal to no angst lol love that for them! Enjoy!

“So how’s shit with Charlotte going?” Calliet asked, the loud crack of the pool table filling the air as Michael took his first shot.

“You mean, Els, get that shit right nigga,” Stello interjected, snickering lightly as Michael rolled his eyes at him. If there was one thing his friends were always going to do, it was make fun of his romantic side.

Michael let out a low chuckle, choosing to let his best friend’s comment pass him by without a retort. “We’re good. She’s… she’s good.”

“You sure? Cause you don’t seem sure.” His friends immediately picked up on the pause in his words.

“Nah, she is good. Great actually. I’m gonna sound crazy sayin’ this but she’s the one.”

“Nigga, it’s been three months. Relax, my guy.”

Michael shrugged. “When you know, you know. And I know that shit. It’s just…” Michael scratched his head. He had not told his friends about Charlotte’s past yet. He questioned whether it was his place to do so, to share details of her life she did not offer up herself. It seemed that only her family and closest friends knew the truth and he did not want to spread it around. However, he could not deny that he could use a sounding board as he navigated such murky waters. And he was not a man who was afraid to talk with his boys about his problems and be vulnerable. He decided he would just keep it vague, the details were Charlotte’s story to tell. “Things really are good. It’s just this shit from her past that comes up occasionally. Her ex was abusive.”

“Oh shit. For real?”

“Fuck.”

“He hit her?”

Michael shook his head. “Yea. The couple things she told me were fuckin’ insane. And I don’t think I’ve heard the worst of it. If I ever see that nigga…” He let out a deep exhale as he clenched his fists. Michael was far from a violent person, he could not even tell you the last time he even had a desire to get into a fight with anyone. Everyone in his orbit, including himself, would describe him as the calming force in a room, he always had the ability to keep his emotions in check. However, if he thought too long or too hard about Shaun Parker, all he could feel was rage. And the only action he could think of was ripping him limb from limb.

“Damn, that’s tough. How is she doin’?”

“Most of the time, she’s great. She’s herself. You know she’s shy and reserved in front of other people but once she’s comfortable, she’s so energetic and fun to be around. She’s charming but still has that cute awkward shit goin’ on that keeps her real and honest, fuckin’ hilarious. But the rest… I’ll say or do somethin’ that triggers her and she seems terrified of me but doesn’t know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like it’s not a conscious thing but I can feel it wafting off of her sometimes. The first time, she broke a wine glass at my place by accident, got red wine on the rug. She’s clumsy as fuck. But I don’t care. It’s actually kinda cute. And shit happens. It’s just a fuckin’ rug. By the time she came over again, I had a new one already. She looked like she had seen a ghost, pale and freaked out. She apologized a hundred times. Her hands were shakin’ so hard, she couldn’t even pick up the glass. A couple weeks ago, she forgot we made dinner plans, same thing. And it wasn’t a big deal at all. I actually preferred it cause I was tired as hell. We ordered in and just talked. But I could feel her whole body tense like she was waiting for me to lash out at her. We were out last week, she was chatting with the waiter while I took a call. She was like an entirely different person when I got back to the table. And I wasn’t thinkin’ twice about who the fuck she talked to. But in her mind, she committed a crime or some shit.”

“That shit’s heavy,” Calliet offered as he rounded the pool table for his shot. “Seems like small shit to us but to her, it means a whole other thing. How you dealing’ with it? I know that shit bothers you.”

Michael scoffed, taking a long sip of his drink. “Of course it fuckin’ bothers me. To have the woman I love seem terrified of me, terrified I would even consider hurting her like that? Shit is frustrating. But I dunno. I did all this research on how to be supportive and been slowly tryin’ to add that in. But I dunno. Just worried it isn’t enough.”

“Want my two cents?” Steelo offered. Michael was usually weary of taking relationship advice from his best friend. Steelo’s longest committed relationship amounted to months. But he also never pretended he wanted anything else, he was more than happy living the single bachelor life. Michael decided to just hear him out. If it was bad, which it was likely to be, he would just ignore it.

“Hit me.”

“I know I was anti-Charlotte after everything went down in Philly but this the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I think you gotta just keep showing up and maybe, actually talk to her? Research is great, google is your best friend. And you can do all that. But you also gotta know what she needs and the only person who can tell you that is her. Ask her, give her time to figure out what she needs from you, and then do those things in addition to the other shit. And I know it sounds crazy but maybe she also just has to hear you say that shit. You know… assurances and all that… women love that shit.”

Michael glanced at Calliet who merely shrugged. “Hey, I agree with him. Broken clock is right twice a day.”

The men laughed a bit at Michael’s friend’s expense before the only married man in the group added, “Nah but forreal. The kid is right. Talk to her. Ask her how you can make her more comfortable and go from there.”

“That might be the first solid dating advice you’ve given me.”

“Check back in another decade, I might have more.”

***

“Dinner was delicious, babe. You know when you said you could cook, I definitely thought you were lying.”

Michael chuckled. “My momma taught me a thing or two. Said she wasn’t raisin’ niggas who couldn’t throw down in the kitchen.”

She nodded. “Well, shout out to your mom. The women of the world, particularly this one,” she pointed at herself. “Thank her.”

He brought her a plate with a piece of chocolate cake on it, his favorite. He smiled as she did a little happy dance in her seat. His girl most certainly had a sweet tooth.

“Don’t tell me you made this too? Cause then I might have to marry you,” she joked.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” he winked at her and smirked, causing her to roll her eyes. “But nah, my sister would kill me if I took credit for that. She’s the baker. I’m hopeless with desserts. It’s my favorite thing of hers. ”

“Then we are a perfect pair. You can cook and I’ll make dessert.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he kissed the top of her head before settling back in his seat.

He watched her eat for a few minutes, enjoying her facial expressions and small but distinct sounds of delight with every bite. She was clearly in heaven. But tonight had not just been about showing his girl a fun time and cooking for her, it was also about broaching a difficult conversation and putting his friends’ advice into action.

“Hey, Els.”

“What’s up?”

He held out his hand for hers, his thumb going to rub the inside of her wrist. He started doing it more often after their dinner date fiasco, realizing that she seemed to respond well to it. It was a small and gentle touch, but every time he did, her body visibly relaxed and seemed more at ease instinctually.

“What do you need from me to feel more comfortable and safe?”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow in confusion, her spoon gently clattering against the slide of her plate as she sat it down. “What prompted that question, Mr. Jordan?”

“Well, I just know this is your first relationship since everything. There are triggers and shit that are gonna come up. And that’s ok, I know it all takes time. I just… I want to assure you that I ain’t him. And I would never hurt you. And whatever you need me to do to help you believe that and feel you know, more at ease, I’ll do it.”

Charlotte’s heart melted for a moment before her own guilt set in. She tried not to think much about her triggers. They happened far too often. And each time, she would curse herself for it, profusely remind herself that Michael was not her ex, and swear to herself that it wouldn’t happen again. However, it always did and it felt like by the time she saw it coming, it was too late to stop it. However, what she never wanted to do was make him believe she thought he was like Shaun. She knew that was not the case in her heart, mind, and soul. However, she knew, as the famous book and her therapist constantly reminded her, the body kept a different score, kept a laundry list of every beating, every humiliating and degrading moment. She may have pushed the memories out of her mind but every single one was still etched in her bones. And she could not force that out of herself, it would only take time.

She clenched her eyes shut for a moment before sighing. “I’m sorry, Bakari. I-I never want you to feel like I think you’d hurt me or something. I know… I know that isn’t you.”

He shook his head. “Hey. Don’t apologize. I didn’t bring it up to blame you. Your past is part of you and I know it ain’t shit you can just turn on and off when it’s convenient. That’s why I want to know how I can help?”

Charlotte stood up, abandoning her cake to join him across the table, sitting on his lap. Her hand settled against his cheek, her fingers playing with his coarse facial hair.

“There is nothing you need to change, Michael. A-and I’m not just saying that. You’re everything I could hope for. And you treat me better than I could’ve dreamed for myself. I guess…” She paused. “I didn’t realize how hard it would be trying to be in a relationship again. I’m not afraid of you. But when you live in constant fear for so long, it sort of becomes part of you. It guided every decision, every choice, every action… every second of every day. And I think, sometimes, even though I know in my soul you aren’t him, that fear is still there in my bones. And when it hits, I don’t even realize it until it feels like I’m drowning in it. A-and I’m sorry for that because I know it’s not fair to you. I’m trying really, I promise.” She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, afraid of where this conversation might actually be headed. “B-But if it’s too much for you, I u-understand. I c-can’t expect you to stick around forever while I figure o-out my -”

“Love, stop. Breathe. That’s not what this is at all. I’m here until you get sick of me, baby girl.” He peppered her face with pecks causing her to laugh. “And don’t apologize to me cause I don’t need it or want it. I just want you to be ok and happy with me, not worried when some other shoe is gonna drop. If there’s nothing, great. But if there is, I just want to know it. We don’t gotta discuss it tonight. I have a whole surprise waiting for you downstairs. Ain’t tryin’ ruin it. But just promise me, if you ever feel like you do need something from me to feel safer o-or I’m doing something that makes you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll tell me.”

She pressed her lips to his. She appreciated that he was not shying away from her reality, that he was jumping in to address the hard things. She would not have blamed him if he wanted to end things but he was still here, still loving her and wanting to work through the kinks of their relationship. If he was willing to have hard conversations, she had to be willing too. She could not just will all of this away, she had to actively work on it.

“I promise.”

“Aight, good. Now we got the hard stuff outta the way, wanna follow me to the basement?”

“Are you gonna tell me what the surprise is? I thought you cooking for me and the food not killing me was the surprise?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. And nah, I’m beginning to think you really don’t know what surprise means.”

“I know what it means, I just like to be in the know.”

“Alright, close your eyes.”

“Bakari…” she whined.

“Just do it, Els. Damn, you never listen to a nigga,” he mumbled.

She winked at him before acquiescing to his wishes and closing her eyes.

One hand held onto hers while his free hand settled on her hip as he led her downstairs and around a corner to his movie room.

“Ok, open.”

She opened her eyes to find the room completely different from the last time she came down there. Giant cozy pillows and blankets draped like a tent covered the floor, a whole set up of popcorn and other snacks and two cocktail glasses waiting for them.

“I know you’re kind of a homebody so a more creative spin on dinner and a movie?” He offered with a shrug.

“You did all this??”

“Yea, I remember you mentioned once on set that you and your siblings used to have movie nights and make forts in your basement.”

She giggled as he led her to the perfectly constructed tent in his basement. He essentially turned his downstairs into a campground, with soft lightening and cushy blankets and pillows littering the floor around his flat screen tv.

“This is far better than any fort we made.”

It clearly had taken him and perhaps a team of people time to set it all up. It was beautiful. She leaned over and picked up a pack of gummy bears, her favorite. “You didn’t have to do all this for me,” she whispered. “It’s too much.”

Michael shook his head. “Nothing is ever too much for you. Besides, press tour is in what, two weeks? We’re gonna be busy so we gotta enjoy the time together while we can.”

Michael went to the bar to pull out a pitcher of mojitos before he got situated in their fort next to her.

“Not gonna lie. I’m kinda looking forward to it. It’ll be my first real press tour.”

“I’m about to be all your work firsts, then?”

Charlotte nodded as she took a sip of the cocktail Michael made for her.

“Yea and some personal ones, I’m sure,” she muttered under her breath, thinking back to the conversation with her friends.

“What’s that mean?”

She let out a nervous laugh and shook her head. “Nothing, nothing at all.” She turned the gummy bears toward him, allowing him to take a handful before she snuggled into his side.

The pair snuggled and joked as they watched Bad Boys, a movie that made it onto both of their top five movies lists. Their banter carried them through most of the film, the pair analyzing and offering their two cents as if they were experts on thwarting criminals. The pair made their way through an obscene amount of snacks and a pitcher of mojitos as they watched the first movie and its sequel.

“Those drinks were so good,” she muttered as she examined the now-empty pitcher, a small pout on her features. “If this whole acting thing doesn’t work out, you could be a bartender for sure.”

Michael laughed and rubbed her thigh. “You wanna just crash here? You shouldn’t drive home after all that. And it’s already late as hell,” he remarked, glancing at his watch to find it was almost 1 am.

She shrugged and winked at him. “Jokes on you… that was alllllll part of the plan. Your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

“Damn, you just usin’ a nigga for a comfortable bed??”

“Not just the bed… Comfortable bed, free meals, cuddly oversized sweatshirts,” she listed on her fingers with a sly smile.

“You know I’m good for other things too,” he whispered with a smirk on his face, his fingers drawing featherlike patterns on her exposed thigh that sent chills down her spine. She knew exactly what he was suggesting and she did not know if it was the liquor or just the overall effect he had on her body, but she wanted to know what those things were. She wanted more. More of him, more of his touch, more of his love. And she did not want to wait a single moment longer.

And she did not want the night to end, their last true moment of solitude before life picked up again. They would be traveling and exhausted for a month. Though she was excited to spend her first press run with him, she knew it would not be true alone time. It would be work and since they were not a public couple yet, they would have to exercise some discretion.

She threw caution to the wind and straddled his hips, ignoring his surprised look as she took charge of the moment. She kissed him before nibbling on his ear and whispering, “Why don’t you show me?”

Usually, those words would have had Michael ripping a woman’s clothes off within milliseconds. However, despite the lust coursing through him, he forced himself to pause and confirm her wishes. Once he knew Charlotte wanted to take it slow, he always made sure to pump the brakes before things got too hot and heavy between them. No matter how hard it was - and it was excruciatingly hard - it was one of his many attempts to show Charlotte that he understood and respected her boundaries and subtly remind her she had agency in their relationship. He never wanted her to feel pressured to do something she did not want to do because she was conditioned never to say no. He wanted her to know she was steering the ship and he was fine with whatever speed she chose.

Admittedly, this was the longest he ever waited for a woman to sleep with him. They were well into month three and had not progressed past heated make out sessions. However, Michael, honestly, did not mind. He longed to bury himself inside her, to taste her, to show her pleasure she had never known before. But he knew it would be more enjoyable for both of them if she was truly ready for it.

Michael’s eyes grew wide with surprise as her statement settled in his brain matter. He leaned back over her, his soft hand cupped her cheek and held her eyes to his.

“You sure? We don’t gotta do anything you aren’t ready for, Els. And we been drinkin’ and shit. I’ll wait as long as you want, love.”

Charlotte offered him a soft smile. “I know. And it’s very sweet and it makes me love you even more if that’s even fucking possible,” she let out a nervous laugh. “I trust you a-and I want you. That’s all I need. So I am very ready for you to break my back like you promised.”

Michael chuckled and kissed her on the neck softly.

“You sure?”

Charlotte knew she would not find the words to describe how desperately she needed him. It was no longer a want that could be diminished by her anxieties and fears, it was a need. A need that felt as fundamental to her survival as oxygen to her lungs and sustenance to her body. His willingness to take it slow and respect her boundaries, the ways he went out of his way to make her feel safe and desired daily only increased her lust. So she decided to show him through action.

“Yes…” she reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it over her shoulders, thankful she decided to wear a matching bra and panty set. She had no intention, originally, of their date night taking this specific turn but she was grateful nonetheless. She felt empowered and assured in her decision as she watched his reaction, pure lust and desire taking over his features.

He licked his lips before he captured hers again. She moaned as his hands enjoyed free reign of her body, softly kneading and gripping her ass and thighs. She could feel the desire pooling between her legs, the movie playing on the tv long forgotten. She did not stop him as he flipped her onto her back, his chest pressed against hers as he sucked on the soft skin of her neck.

Michael took his time as he kissed her, paying close attention to every moan and groan, his ears perking up when he hit a sweet spot. He wanted to know every intricacy of what she liked and just how she liked it. His path of kisses and gentle nips down her body was deliberate and slow, he savored how her whimpers became needier as he went. But he did not speed up. He was determined, desired to see her come undone piece by piece, and that was a process he could not rush.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as his lips lingered against one of her scars, knowing they made her insecure about her appearance.

By the time he reached her lower stomach, her whimpers had turned to pants of need. Charlotte had never experienced foreplay like this before. She did not understand how he was already so attentive, the way he seemed to immediately respond to her body, picking up on cues Charlotte would not have been able to articulate herself. If her body was an instrument, Michael seemed to already be a savant, hitting the right notes with every caress and touch. It was a slow march and Charlotte was feigning for the main event, feigning for him to fill her.

Michael finally detached his lips from her body and made quick work of removing her thong.

“All this for me?” He whispered as he licked his lips as he admired the wetness between her thighs.

He spread her legs and licked his lips before kissing her inner thighs. Charlotte almost saw God when he added in a gentle bite, sending sparks of pleasure through her. With every passing second, his lips got closer and closer to the treasure between her thighs, a coveted meal Michael had been waiting months to taste.

However, realizing his intention, Charlotte immediately felt the first wave of anxiety and insecurity hit her, pulling her out of the moment and mind-numbing fog of pleasure.

“W-what are you doing?” She breathed out, stopping his path toward her core.

“About to get a taste,” he muttered as he continued kissing her inner thighs.

Charlotte squirmed for a moment before quietly offering. “Y-You don’t have to do that… if you don’t want to.”

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. There was literally nothing he wanted more in this world at this moment. “I definitely want to. What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just never…” She scratched her forehead and kept her eyes trained on the ceiling. It was embarrassing and she did not really want to say it out loud. Similar to her lack of an orgasm, she had also never revealed to anyone that her sexual experience was severely lacking in terms of receiving pleasure. Giving? She was good at it and enjoyed it occasionally. But she had always been the giver and now could not even fathom what receiving felt like. She knew, based on conversations with her girlfriends, that she was missing something spectacular and life changing. But the mental block was there and she found it hard to want it. “Never mind, it’s embarrassing.”

Michael chuckled. “Aint shit to be embarrassed about with me, baby.” He kissed her softly on the lips.

“No one’s ever given me…”

Her words died in her throat but Michael did not need her to finish the sentence. He knew exactly what she was trying to say and shocked was an understatement. He had jerked himself off more times than he would ever admit dreaming of her paradise, what she tasted like, and what sounds she would make when he finally found himself in that promised land. And to think that no one had ever taken the time or care to give her that pleasure angered him more than it should have. He supposed he should be happy he was the first one to give her that experience but he hated that her sex life prior to him had been so lacking.

“You trust me?”

She nodded immediately. “Of course.”

“Ok, then just lay back and relax for me, aight? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. But I don’t think you’re gonna want me to stop.” He offered her a knowing wink.

Michael was not a man who begrudgingly engaged in foreplay simply because it was required. The build up was his favorite part of the experience, knowing he was giving his partner exactly what they needed and wanted, worshiping her body like the queen she was. He would bask in every moment of proving to her that he wanted to do this task more than anything else.

“Always so cocky,” she muttered with a smile.

“And you love that shit,” he shot back as they traded playful jabs. “Now relax… and let me take care of you.”

Michael’s hands pushed open Charlotte’s legs, her pussy glistening with need.

Not wanting to waste another second, he leaned in and enveloped her clit into his mouth, sucking gently.

Charlotte let out a deep moan, a moan so visceral and carnal, she did not even know she could produce such a sound. But she didn't even know her body could feel pleasure like this and he was only just getting started.

It seemed Michael was right about one thing, she most certainly did not want him to stop.

Michael poured his whole soul into his ministrations, pulling out every trick he knew to send Charlotte over the edge. He licked and sucked, spelling out all his love and adoration with every caress of his tongue. He savored every moan and groan, every plea for him to go faster.

“Fuck… B-Bakari… p-please don’t stop.”

Unnecessary directions, in his opinion, he could do this all night.

Charlotte’s eyes clenched shut as she grabbed one of the plush pillows on the floor and moaned into it, suddenly remembering that Michael’s parents lived with him.

“Put the pillow down,” he emerged from her legs to demand. “Room’s soundproof, I promise. I wanna hear you.”

She immediately tossed it to the side as she rode the waves of pure passion and ecstasy his mouth provided. She was not sure where to concentrate as every pleasure sensor in her body felt like it was on fire. She was overwhelmed and yet, she wanted more. She wanted to drown in it, drown in this feeling that seemed to never end. Every time, she felt as if she must be reaching its peak, he pushed her higher and higher.

His eyes never left her face as he devoured what would now be classified as his favorite meal. The moment she came, he wanted to see it. Every sound she made only spurred him on as he inched her closer and closer to her mountain top.

Charlotte felt her world go dark, everything in her snapped as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She felt as if she was in fog, Michael’s voice distant and quiet as she experienced her first orgasm. She felt as if he had just altered the course of her life at that moment. She wondered if this was what rebirth felt like and how she had ever lived without this unfiltered… bliss. She let out a stream of curse words as she rode out her orgasm, Michael offering her praise that she could barely register.

“That’s it, Els. Cum for me.”

He emerged from between her legs and kissed her, allowing her to taste herself.

“You taste so good, baby. So sweet,” he offered as he gave her a few moments to settle down. .

“T-that was…” She struggled to find the words as her already slightly hoarse voice filled the space.

“You liked that, baby?” He asked, his deep voice sending jolts of pleasure down her body. His finger entered her, immediately curling into her g-spot causing her to gasp.

This man… was going to be the death of her, she decided.

“Y-Yes,” she whispered.

“You want more, Els?”

She nodded fervently. Michael pushed himself off the floor and quickly stripped down, his manhood standing at attention for the woman he loved.

Her breath hitched slightly as she took in his length and girth. He settled himself between her legs before starting to push inside her.

She let out a groan of pain that made him pause, his eyes immediately filling with concern. He started to pull out when she wrapped her legs around his hips to stop him.

“N-No, don’t. I-it’s just been a couple years. That’s all. I’m good, promise.”

His forehead fell against hers as he slowly pushed inside her. His eyes did not leave hers, pausing his movements every time he saw an iota of discomfort or pain on her face. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear, professed his love and adoration for her, told her how good she felt around him as he waited for her to adjust.

And once she gave him the ok, he started his slow and steady strokes into her.

“You feel so fucking good, baby” he muttered as the soft slapping sounds of their hips meeting filled his basement.

His dick curved right into her g-spot, forcing words of adoration and love from the depths of her soul at the end of every stroke. Her soft pants morphed into moans and screams of pleasure as she felt jolts of pleasure throughout her body.

“F-fuck, I l-love you,” she panted out. “Harder,” she demanded, Michel more than happy to oblige.

He increased his pace, relentlessly fucking her. She was thankful this portion of the house was soundproof, his basement soaking up the loud symphony of their collective moans. .

She could feel all of the love and adoration he held for her in every stroke, every affirmation he whispered into her ear as he sent her soul to another plane. All she could do was pant and cry out in pleasure as he promised to love her until his last day.

Michael’s physical fitness and stamina meant that they were just getting started. Michael and Charlotte moved around his basement, fucking on any and all surfaces that they saw fit. He transitioned between positions like an experienced dancer and pulled countless orgasms from the depth of her soul.

“Fuck. Just like that baby. Ride this dick,” he moaned. He let out a low growl as she rode him, he was in heaven as he buried his face in her chest, his mouth enveloping her nipple. He was surprised at how much she responded to it, her head falling back in pleasure, her mouth agape. She cried out in pleasure as he gently bit down on the swell of her breasts. He switched between the two, making sure to give each equal attention.

“You look so sexy riding my dick,” he praised her, causing her to increase her pace.

She ignored the burn in her thighs as she continued, her thoughts only focused on giving him the same pleasure he gave her. She loved this position. It made her feel emboldened and in charge. And so she decided to enjoy that feeling and switch it up, giving him another view to enjoy. She slid off of him, both of them groaning lightly at the feeling of emptiness while she repositioned herself in reverse cow girl and slid back onto his dick.

Michael smirked at the satisfied moan that escaped her lips as he filled her again. He grabbed her hips, thrusting into her rapidly as he enjoyed the view of her ass bouncing against his hips. He had let her control the pace before but now? It was his turn again. She yelped lightly as his hand spanked her. It was unexpected but not too rough, clearly to test the waters. She moaned, letting him know that she enjoyed it, the edge of roughness and small jolts of pain mixed in with his gentle touches.

“You like that, baby?” He asked as he spanked her again, his strong arms lifting her body up and down as if she weighed nothing.

“Y-Yes! I love it,” She panted out, breathless and exhausted as he fucked her. “I’m g-gonna cum!”

Her hands pressed against his stomach to hold herself up as she rode the length of her orgasm, her body barely staying up right. When she calmed down, he lifted her off of him and instructed her to get on all fours.

He positioned himself behind her and massaged her ass for a moment, admiring the perfect view.

“Arch your back for me, baby. That’s it, good girl.”

Charlotte could’ve cum right then, hearing him praise her.

Good girl, she wanted to hear that every day for the rest of her life.

She groaned as he entered her again, this position allowing him to get even deeper than before. Charlotte’s screams grew to new heights as he fucked her senseless from behind, taking her directive to break her back extremely serious. She was thankful that the strength of his thrusts naturally buried her face in the pillows of their now destroyed fort; she did not think even a soundproof room could contain her at this point.

In this moment, she realized exactly what Jazz meant: this was life-changing and fun. For the first time, she was not waiting for it to all be over, she was enjoying it, actively meeting his thrusts to increase her pleasure. And when his fingers dug into her hips to hammer into her at his own pace, like a man possessed, she was more than willing to surrender her entire being to him and let him give her exactly what he believed she needed. Because he actually knew, every action was meticulous and measured, attuned to needs she did not even know she had. But he did and she loved him for it. So she surrendered, surrendered to bliss, knew she would forever happily hand over the reins of her pleasure to him because she desperately wanted what he had to give.

“Why you running, baby?” He asked as he fucked her, her body instinctively shying away from the intense pleasure of another orgasm building too fast.

“I-I… I-it’s too much…” she breathed out, unable to form coherent sentences.

“You want me to stop?” He asked as he continued fucking relentlessly.

“N-no,” she whimpered, and it was true. Her body felt as if it may die if he stopped but also that another orgasm might kill her. In a split second decision, dying from pleasure seemed like the better way to go.

“Good girl. You’re taking me so well, love. Cum for me one more time, baby.”

As he felt her pussy snapping around his dick and her screams grew louder, he knew she was close. He reached around and rubbed her clit to give her the extra push she needed.

Charlotte let out a breathless scream, her vision going black as the most powerful orgasm of her life ran through her. She didn't even get to feel him cum inside her as he finally reached his own peak.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Michael was sitting watching her intently.

“Welcome back, almost had me worried for a minute. You ok?”

All she could do was nod, not understanding how he looked completely unruffled while she felt as if she had done a triathlon.

He held out his hand to help her up and slide his robe around her. She was surprised to find him already in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt.

“H-How long was I out?”

He laughed, kissing the top of her head. “Just a couple minutes. Come on, I’ll start a bath upstairs.”

She groaned as she tried to move her legs. “M-My legs don’t work, babe. N-Not gonna make it upstairs.”

He laughed and swooped her up into his arms. “Good thing you have me then.”

Charlotte snuggled into his chest as he carried her to his suite. He made quick work of filling the tub with hot water and helping her into the tub, the smell of eucalyptus, her favorite, filling her nose.

“This is sweet,” she said, her voice raspy from their activities. “T-thank you.” She settled into the bathtub, her head lulling back as her eyes fell closed. The warm water felt like heaven on her aching muscles.

“You feel ok? Was afraid I was too rough at the end?”

She let her head fall lazily in his direction, a content smile on her face. “No, it was great. Though I think you might've thought I was a gymnast at one point, really pushed the limits of my flexibility. And I now feel like I need to go to yoga classes so I don’t need to soak my muscles every time we have sex,” she laughed. “But it was perfect. You’re perfect.”

They shared a sweet kiss before silence fell over them. Charlotte did not stay in the tub long, her desire to be in Michael’s arms again overwhelming. Once she was done, Michael gave her clothes to throw on and they climbed into bed.

Michael’s head rested on her chest, both of them muttering soft I love you’s before they drifted off to sleep.

***

“Charlie!”

Charlotte's eyes gravitated toward a familiar voice, finally landing on Chris who had commandeered a corner booth toward the back and was waving at her.

“How are you??” Her voice took on a sing-songy tone as she hugged him before sitting across from him. “It’s been way too fucking long.”

“I know, I know. It’s tough. I’m rarely out here and you’re never in NYC anymore.” His voice was filled with teasing accusations as he referenced her disappearing act. “But I’m glad you were able to fit me in.”

The pair spent over a half hour catching up, Chris sharing gossip from the NYC theater scene that Charlotte was no longer in touch with. She considered Chris MacDonald to be one of her closest friends. He had been her mentor when she was at a school, he was a recent graduate working on his musical and worked with students in his free time. He was easily the most talented songwriter she had ever heard, his first musical becoming a staple on Broadway within months. Every song he touched turned to gold and money. They transcended the usual mentor-mentee relationship quickly, becoming good friends. Chris always vowed to make her his leading lady in one of his shows one day.

“So what are the next few months looking like for you?”

“We’re starting press for Creed out here next week. Then the premieres here and press and a premiere in Philly. We have a couple of events and things once it hits theaters and then I should get a break right before Christmas. Thankfully, since it is the first one, the press schedule isn’t insane. But it's still a lot.”

“So I gotta know, do you miss the stage at all?”

“All the time,” Charlotte moaned, her shoulders collapsing a bit. Chris was the type of person who knew the answer to his question before he asked it. So she knew there was no use in lying. “All. The. Time.” She emphasized. “Movies are great, don’t get me wrong. Can’t say anything too bad about them, after all, my first major film led me to Michael. Who you have to meet by the way. But it’s just not the same. It doesn’t… make my soul happy the way theater did? Money’s better,” Chris immediately nodded in agreement. “But that’s about it. Just doesn’t really fulfill me the same way.”

“Would you want to go back?”

An antenna in Charlotte’s mind went up as she heard his tone, his voice taking on the tenor of someone who was dipping a toe in to test the waters.

“Ummm yea, I mean I’d love to go back. But… the practicalities of it. Just don’t think it is in the cards for me.” She shook her head gently and picked up her coffee. The mug hid the sad smile she had on her face, a realization that her choices meant her dreams weren’t a possibility anymore. “Besides, there isn’t a theater director who knows my name who’d give me another chance.” She simply shrugged. “It’s cool though. My life’s out here now, new relationship’s out here, friends, family. It’s better this way.”

Chris nodded. “What if you were looking at a writer and producer who wanted you to be in their next show?”

Charlotte laughed, “Very funny, Chris.” She had heard about his next project through the grapevine, which just completed an off-Broadway run in Massachusetts and was picked up to perform on Broadway in the new year. His musical, The Lighthouse, followed the closing shift of a dive bar during a winter’s storm. It was one of those shows where the entire play takes place in a singular room, following four characters, the owner of the bar and his wife, and the main character, Ashley, and her ex, who is a bartender. Charlotte had only read reviews of it but every review praised Chris for his poignant examination of relationships, human connection, and the innate desire to fight for the things and one you love, even when the fight seems foolish and you are outnumbered.

“I’m being dead serious, Charlie. I know you’re about to start promo for the film so you wouldn’t get that break you’re looking forward to. But it premieres on Broadway in March. We are casting new folks since the off broadway cast is transitioning to other roles. And for the lead, I started with your name but didn’t think you’d want to come back. And after scouring my brain for months and chatting with other writers like Lin and all roads lead back to you. You’re perfect for it. Your voice, your skills… you would knock it out of the park.”

Charlotte shook her head, “Oh Chris… thank you but I can’t. It’s just not for me anymore.”

“The stage was made for you, girl. Look, I wasn’t trying to come here and beg you but I will if I have to. I want you, Charlie. Not some random girl no one has ever heard of… You, the woman who made me cry the first time I heard her sing, the woman with perfect pitch, a woman who's been through shit and knows how to bring that pain and vulnerability and channel it into a performance. Look, I could get any recent graduate from Juilliard or Yale and throw them in this show and it would be good. But I don’t want ‘good’. I want excellent and you are excellence. Just give me a year. One year. Not even a year,” he corrected himself as she shook her head. “Six months. Six months and you’ll be nominated for a Tony in 2017, maybe even 2016 depending on when they cut off the season. ”

At the sound of the coveted award Charlotte had dreamed of her entire life, Charlotte perked up. “How do you know it’s Tony worthy?”

“Because I wouldn’t have flown across the country to grovel at the feet of one of the greatest actresses and singers I’ve ever seen for anything less than a Tony-winning role. Six months to a year, max. Give me six months of your life, Charlie and I swear - you’re Grammy and Tony nominated at worst… two steps closer to an EGOT at best. Come on, don’t tell me you forgot? This was on the vision board you showed me when you were a plucky, annoying freshman. This is it, this is the opportunity to make that vision board come true.”

Just as Charlotte opened her mouth to rebut him, he stopped her. “Look, I gotta jet to another meeting. But don’t say no just yet, please? I promised the team I would have my Ashley by the time I got back home on Monday. I’ll send you the tracks, the video of the workshop, talk it over… pray on it, and get back to me in a few days. Just promise me you’ll think about it, Charlie. Please?”

Charlotte nodded weakly. “Fine… I’ll think about it.”

She knew logically there was nothing to think about. The mere idea went beyond playing with fire, it was playing with a raging inferno to move back there. For all she knew, Shaun was a mere powder keg waiting for the right spark to explode and she would be handing it to him on a silver platter. However, her soul and her ambition, well those parts of her were thinking… and they were thinking hard.

She said her goodbyes to Chris and paid for her coffee. And before she could even make it outside to her car, she heard the ding of several emails, all from Chris with the music tracks. She slid into her car and hooked it up as she drove to Michael’s. Since they broke through the physical intimacy barrier, she essentially lived at his place. After spending almost every night there, he cleared out a drawer and gave her space in his closet. Now she rarely went to her own spot.

Since his house was a bit farther out, she made it through Act 1 of the show before she pulled into his driveway. However, she did not immediately turn it off to get out of the car. She was so enthralled that she just sat there in his driveway with her eyes closed, falling deeper in love with the music with every passing chord.

“That fucking bastard,” she muttered to herself as her head thudded back against the seat. “The great Chris MacDonald strikes again.”

It was always a running joke among the Broadway community that no one ever said no to Chris. If he wanted you, he would always find a way to convince you to work for him. Whether it was the strength of the piece itself or his persuasive abilities, no was not a word he heard.

And she hated that it was working on her. This was award worthy. It was more than that, it was a game changer. It would take more than a year to pick up steam but when it did, it would become a household name. She could feel it in her bones. And the main character, Ashley, was perfect for her. Her ballad, which closed out Act I, was giving Defying Gravity levels of emotion. It was climatic and she could just picture herself singing it on stage. And while the show was filled with drama and emotion, it struck the perfect balance of being funny and relatable. It was the type of show you left and talked about for hours with your friends, examining each character and their decisions with a fine tooth comb.

She sat in her car and typed out notes on her phone as she worked her way through Act II, noting things she picked up on and wanted to discuss further with Chris. She did not even realize how long she sat out there until she heard a knock on her car window.

“Shit!” She jumped almost clean out of her skin as she turned to find Michael staring at her with a quizzical look on his face. She took a deep breath before opening the door. “You scared me.”

“My bad. I saw you pull up 30 minutes ago. Wanted to make sure you were good. You on the phone or somethin’?”

“30 minutes?? Sorry, baby. I was just listening to these songs Chris sent me.”

She pulled herself and her bag out of the car and followed Michael into the house. The house smelled delicious, Michael immediately returning to the oven to check on his Bolognese sauce.

“How was coffee?”

“Um… intriguing, that’s for sure.” Charlotte threw her bag down on one of the bar stools and immediately grabbed the loaf of bread and other materials that were sitting out to help Michael finish dinner.

“Ok, elaborate.”

Charlotte sighed. “Well, it wasn’t a friendly catch up like I thought. He has a role for me… in his new show.”

“Ok… and?”

“It’s really fuckin’ good, Bakari. Like game changing good. Like household name good. He said he just wanted six months out of me, which is more than enough to be nominated this year or next.”

Michael nodded. “Ok… I’m hearing all the good things… sounds like good shit. But you’re hesitating. What’s stopping you?”

She turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “Well first, my life is here with you. Not in New York. We’ve only been dating for three months. I don’t want to lose what we have.” Michael glanced at her, waiting for her to say more. “A-and I left New York in such a weird way. I don’t even know how people feel about me now. A-and 8 shows a week??” She ranted, taking her frustration out on the helpless loaf of Italian bread in front of her. “Don’t even know if I can physically do that shit anymore. I’m not that good of a dancer… I mean when would we have time to see each other if I’m doing 8 shows a week? I could kiss my current career goodbye. I feel like I started down this road, don’t know if I should backtrack?”

Michael turned her away from the cutting board and took the knife out of her hands. His arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer and closer to him.

“What’s really wrong, Els? Cause it ain’t any of the dumb shit you just mentioned.”

Charlotte immediately felt offended, her body attempting and failing to twist out of his firm but still gentle grip. “Excuse me?? Those are legit concerns, thank you very much.”

“No they aren’t. You’re never gonna lose me cause you’re pursuing a dream. New York is a plane ride away, I’ll come to you when I’m not filming. Long distance relationships work and thrive every day, Els.” He started to list off, dismissing her concerns one by one. “You left to save your life. Fuck anyone who doesn’t understand that or sympathize with that shit. Besides, who even gives a fuck what they think? You got Chris in your corner and more people than you think, that’s enough. You can dance just fine. And you run like 6 miles every single day so physically, you can do anything including sing and dance for 2 hrs 8 times a week. And it’s not backtracking. You started in the theater, took a break and are going back. People do that shit literally all the time. I think you’re scared. And if you want to say no for all those practical reasons to Chris, fine. But at least be honest with me. Why are you really hesitating?”

She picked at her nails, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip. She hated that she had to consider him, this dark cloud that hung over her head and still indirectly affected her decisions. She hated that he still had this much power

“I left New York for a reason, Bakari. A-and that reason is still walking and talking and… I don’t think I can ignore that just because Chris dangles a shiny Tony in front of my face.”

“Do you really think he’d try something?”

“I… I dunno. But I also don’t know if I want to test that theory. I gave it all up then because I couldn’t stay alive and keep it. I tried that and it didn’t work. All I got was a break in and three days in the ER. How’s this time gonna be any different? Seems dumb to walk right back into the lion’s den.”

“Are you walking back into the lion’s den or following your dreams? Was he a Broadway enthusiast or somethin?”

Charlotte let out a humorless laugh. “Hell no. He hated musicals… and joy… and laughter… and me,” she added under her breath with a humorless chuckle. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because who's to say he will even know you’re there? Even in the most popular shows, the everyday person doesn’t follow news about it. And this is a new show, not like that rap one everyone I know keeps going to see about the dead white people?”

“Hamilton?” Her judgment of his lack of theater knowledge showed in her laughter.. “‘That musical with the dead white people’” she chuckled. “It’s the hottest ticket of the year, babe.”

“See,” he emphasized, ignoring the tone of shade in her voice. “I’m an actor and still don’t know this shit.”

“Bakari… be serious, please.”

“I am!” He laughed. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is even the most popular shows, the non-broadway goer doesn’t know whose in them. You’re a rising star and the benefit of a rising star is that you can still keep a low profile when you want. For all that nigga knows, you’re still in LA. Talk to Chris about promo and maybe keeping a lower profile for the first couple months and all that and secure your dream, babe.”

“But I already proved I can’t have both, Bakari,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “No, you couldn’t have both then. It’s been a couple years, you’re different. And who knows, that nigga could’ve moved to another state or be in a new relationship or anything. A lot can change in two years, right?”

She scratched her head. The things Michael said made total sense but there was still this wall standing in her way.

“Els, baby. Look at me.” His finger lifted her chin to look him in the eye. “I think you should do it. It’s six months until you come back here. Ever since I’ve known you, being the lead of a show has been your dream. And you miss it. And now someone is handing you the opportunity on a silver platter. Why miss it a second time? And if it makes you feel safer, I’ll move with you.”

Charlotte shook her head. “Baby, I can’t ask you to move across the country for me. Your family, your friends… your life is here.”

He shrugged. “And in six months, my life will still be here. My future is wherever you are. And I told you a couple weeks ago that I’d do whatever you needed to make you feel safe.”

“Yes, with you. Not out in the world. I can’t ask you to upend your entire life for me. We haven’t been together that long.”

“Semantics. I told you I’d do whatever you needed. This counts in my book. Don’t think about the length of time we’ve been together or where it is or any of that shit. Would it help and make you feel more comfortable if I went with you? At least for a couple months?”

Charlotte studied him for a moment, realizing he was truly being sincere. She found it hard to ask for such a thing but she could not deny that it would help her. Even just knowing that she could come home to someone each night and be safe in their arms felt like it would change everything.

“Y-Yea, it would help a lot. But you really don’t have to, babe.”

“Ok then it’s settled. If you take it, I’ll go with you. I know we’re jumping ahead and skipping some steps but I’m in if you are.”

“You don’t want to think about it?”

He shrugged as he moved to put the garlic bread in the oven. “What’s there to think about? It’s like moving for a role. It doesn’t really change much. When would you have to be there?”

“Top of January, the show is supposed to premiere on March 1.”

He nodded. “Ok so if you decide to do it, we can move right after Christmas to make sure you’re there in time.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Yea while you’re planning our move, I actually need to decide whether to do it.”

Michael leaned down and kissed her on the lips. “I’m removing obstacles so you can make the best decision for you. Not for me or because of that nigga. For you. If you want this, we’ll do whatever we gotta do to make sure you’re safe while you do it, ok?”

Her arms went around his shoulders, their bodies flush against each other. “How’d I get so lucky to find you?”

“I’m the lucky one, honeybee.”

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, “Honeybee? That’s a new one. Where’d that come from?”

“Cause you taste sweet, like honey.”

“‘I taste sweet, what do- ohhhhh,” the memory of him saying that during the first time he gave her head came back to her mind causing her to laugh a bit. “Thought I’d try it out. It has a cute ring to it. You don’t like it?”

“I like any nickname you give me, love. But… let’s make this the only one inspired by our sex life, ok?”

“Deal.”

The pair ate dinner before retreating to his bedroom. They did not talk about Chris’s offer again until they were settled in bed, Charlotte laying on Michael’s chest.

“I think… I think I want to do it. You’re right, it’s my dream and I might not get another shot like this again,” she offered in the quiet and darkness. She knew he was not asleep yet.

Michael did not even take a beat before he responded, “I guess we’re moving to New York then.”

Charlotte sat up, leaning on his chest. “You knew I was gonna take it the whole evening didn’t you?”

He shrugged, before shifting so she was laying back down. He placed a kiss on the top of her forehead and merely smiled. “Yea… when are you gonna learn? I’m always right, baby,” he joked. "You gonna call Chris?

She bit down the joke that bubbled to the surface and merely settled back into his arms with a smile.

“Yes you are, baby. And in the morning, it's after midnight."

"Yea and you said he flew all the way out here for you. That man is probably waiting by the phone for you. Call him, if he's asleep, you can try again in the morning. Besides, knowing you, you'll find some way to talk yourself out of it by morning." He reached over to her side and grabbed her phone. "Call him, babe."

"Touché." She slid out of his bed and paced, one hand fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt she had on while her feet dragged across his soft plush carpet.

She waited for a few moments with bated breath until she heard his voice fill her ears.

"Hey, Chris! Sorry if this is too late to call? Hope I didn't wake you."

"Oh no, I was just up working and praying your name would cross my phone sometime before the night was over. Please tell me you called me this late with bad news."

Charlotte chuckled and glanced at Michael who gave her an encouraging smile and thumbs up.

"No, no. Just calling to tell you that you can tell the team you found your new Ashley."

She had to hold the phone away from her ear as his screams of delight threatened to bust her ear drums.

"God, I fucking love you, Charlotte Bennett. I could literally kiss you."

"I think my boyfriend would have something to say about that," she chuckled. "But yea I'm in."

"Amazing. I'll send over details to you and your team tomorrow and we can talk more then. Seriously, Charlie, you won't regret it. I promise."

"I know, thank you, Chris. Seriously. Ok, talk tomorrow. Bye."

She hung up the phone and turned to Michael, the realization hitting her.

"I'm gonna be leading a show on Broadway." She ran back to the bed and jumped on it, her previous exhaustion long forgotten as her excitement took over.

Michael enveloped her in a tight hug before they both settled back into bed.

"This is gonna be good, Els. I can feel it."

She placed a quick kiss on his bare chest. "I feel it too. Thank you. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing this without you."

"I gotchu, Els. Always."

Tags: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings

A/N: As always, thanks for reading! We finally got some smut (woohoo). Tbh smut is like really hard for me to write lol so I hope y'all liked it? I really wanted it to be intimate and showcase how close they've gotten in a short time. They could be sexy and honest and vulnerable and playful with each other and it not ruin the moment, it only enhances it for them. Next chapter, we'll get some fluff with their first public outing as a couple and press tour cuteness (think Tom/Zendaya and Corey/India from Queen Charlotte level cuteness). I'm gonna try to get a one-shot out this week too before I'm off on vacation. We'll see if I can actually get it done :)

Leave a comment on what you thought of the chapter and let me know if you want to be tagged!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii #michael b jordan smut

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storiesofsung · 6 months

Text

Obey Me Rewrite - the Passion Project

Note: spoilers below the cut

I’ve always been in love with the game obey me and been super passionate about it as a long time fan however the game itself is kind of lacking.

Obviously it does what it does well, it’s a dating simulator about demons from hell but what I mean is it lacks potential.

I love the characters and their relationships with each other and the overall concept, that is what made me fall in love with it in the first place however I do have my own issues with the game not as a dating simulation but as a story.

To give you more context:

Characterization

- characters are given great potential with interesting backstories and fun personalities however the direction the game takes them completely wastes any sort of progression as interesting 3 dimensional characters

Example: Satan - he is shown to show personal struggle with a sort of inferiority complex with the way he was brought into this world (or hell) by people only viewing him as an extension of Lucifer and only as wrath, not as an individual living being. He works hard to create a name for himself and he prides himself on wisdom. He has a strong character and one of the best self restraint in terms of anger I dare say (he did attack mc but honestly from the way he was acting in Nightbringer it is progression) plus he is calm and collected and obviously by now a respected demon. Though he knowledgeable in itself, he still has issues to work with, one being working out his difficulties with Lucifer, (maybe) coming to terms with the way he was born and the trauma he went through when Lilith fell (he technically felt Lucifer’s pain). Instead as the series progressed we only saw him a soft cat boy, cmon 😀.

There are much more examples of this in fact all of them have such wasted potential, I’m not going to go in depth (unless someone asks me to hehe) but a very notable mention I would also like to make is

Example 2: MC - I’m not going to comment on how they are dull or has no personality because actually they can be very sassy depending on which options you choose. Also the mc is supposed to just be a self insert so I understand that enough. Anyways what I would like to give note to is the fact that mc forgave belphie right away after he I don’t know KILLED US? Or should I say, more accurately, the game forced us to forgive him so we would have the belphie lovey dovey options (no hate to belphie stans I’m just saying). What I mean to say is that we shouldn’t have not forgiven him you know, honestly it’s more of pacing. We COULD have forgiven him and actually that would be interesting development and a look into their backstory as angels, however there was no real progression towards forgiveness or us even being remotely scared of him (I may be wrong on this but I remember belphie and mc becoming besties real quick with no hard feelings) like the snappy mc incorrect quotes I think would actually fit well into the story as well as proper talk and real progression towards forgiveness.

2. Concepts and storylines

This is slightly less of an issue but I do take slight to the way the game handles storylines. Season 1 was the best (in my opinion) because it was less of “uwu mc marry me” content and more of demons being demons.

Alright so this really bugged me but I don’t like how MC is a a descendant of Lilith, like I know the brothers and Lilith are not blood related and are honestly more found family and that MC and Lilith and so far related (in terms of how many generations were between them) that they barely share dna I believe (in terms of physical dna and all that good stuff not the angelic powers) but I’ve always found it kind of gross but I guess that’s just a me problem…

I’m going to take the next part of my issues with concepts and storyline as general as possible but it’s really long but… hell doesn’t feel like hell, or should I say devildom doesn’t sound like hell

There is technology in other depictions of hell (like Hazbin hotel) but that’s done better because it’s not so emphasized (I know DDD is part of the game but I think they drive the technology bit overboard) it’s a lot less subtle and hell just feels like an abridged human world with slight magic involved.

The demons don’t even act like demons or look like demons, as hot as their demon forms are they look like emo teenagers that just discovered hot topic like girl bye 😭. They don’t act remotely demonic like sometimes, and everything just seems like a cosplay is the best way I can describe it. I know it’s 12+ and not 18+ but I really enjoy the more gorey fanfic versions of obey me concepts because that feels like hell, it brings out emotions in me of shocked scared and surprised which is what Dre me into the game in the first place, not a bunch of boys going to play dress up and harass the MC.

I have much more problems with the game( I still love so obviously I’m gonna play it) but this is more of a rant and I just played Nightbringer so I hope there is more lore that resolves some of my issues but yeah!

I’m not that skilled of a writer or anything but I would really like to try and rewrite obey me as a kind of “real hell” as a passion project, obviouslt no characters, or anything trademarked belong to me this is more of for fun. Again I’m not that experienced so if anyone would like to give me tips on how to write or would lousy like to chat about obey me, about this rant and other issues or just obey me in general feel free to dm me I’m always looking for more obey me stuff hehe but yeah, or actually honestly I just want your opinion on this.

I know it’s not that deep it’s a game about horny demons but it still means a lot to me and I hope you guys understand where I’m coming from. Thank you.

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me brothers #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #rant post #obey me rant #obey me undateables #obey me nightbringer

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stray-tickles · 25 days

Text

Command

Read on AO3

Minkowski was sure Eiffel would laugh if she ever said it out loud, but sometimes she didn’t like being the Commander.

Yes, she’d always wanted it, yes, going to space had been her dream (turned nightmare), and yes, command suited her.

But.

Honestly, always being the one who was de facto in charge could be draining. Lonely. Sometimes the distance between her and her crew felt like a gaping chasm. She’d see Eiffel goofing off and feel deeply tired because someone had to get him on task and it had to be her, even if she’d rather not. Hell, sometimes she wanted to goof off too.

He and Lovelace had been goofing off quite a lot lately. It was hard to mind with how much happier they’d been, and if a bit of childishness was what it took, well. She didn’t mind.

Okay, so maybe she’d joined in on their shenanigans once or twice. It was hard to resist when she managed to catch Eiffel reaching for something high up, knowing that a quick jab under his arms would have him folding in half, squealing and grinning like an idiot. Never mind Lovelace, who had no idea how to defend herself. It was honestly damn cute how she’d just dissolve into giggles within seconds.

It was fun messing with them. The half-hearted glares they’d send her way, trying not to smile, the playful punches in the arm. Those were moments when she felt more like their friend and less like their boss. She never went any further than a quick poke or some teasing though, that felt like a line she couldn’t cross, even if they were really annoying sometimes.

She could hear Eiffel’s shrieking long before she entered the kitchen and rolled her eyes at the sight of them. He was backed into a corner, curled up in a ball, while Lovelace towered over him, one hand squeezing his kneecap and the other scampering up and down his ribcage. “What’d he do this time?”

Lovelace looked up and smiled at her. “Oh, hey Minkowski. Does he really need to do anything to deserve punishment?”

She almost laughed. ‘Punishment’. Sure. “Hmm, you make a fair point.”

“HELP!” Eiffel squealed, twisting like a fish on a line. “Cohohommander! Help!”

“Oh yeah, good idea Eiffel!” Lovelace said. “Wanna help?”

They looked happy, and part of her wanted to join. She shook her head. “Not today.”

Lovelace shrugged, “Suit yourself.” And returned to her torment of their Communications Officer.

Minkowski made her seaweed brew slowly, listening to them laugh and roughhouse in the background. It was nice.

She was double checking their navigation when Eiffel caught up with her on the bridge. There was no point in asking what he was there for. ‘Causing trouble’ was the usual answer.

“Thanks for the help.” He said sarcastically.

She spared him a glance, swallowing a smirk. “You seemed to have everything under control.”

Eiffel huffed. “Well, it’s good to know you have my back.” He said, poking her in the back of the ribs.

Maybe her guard was down, maybe it had been a while since she’d been touched by another person, whatever the reason, his playful poke managed to elicit a twitch and a yelp.

Minkowski pointedly shifted a little out of reach, not looking at him. Eiffel only grinned and followed. “Something wrong?” He asked innocently, poking again, this time getting her in the ribs and making her twist out of the way, biting back a squeak.

She tried to glare at him, but it was taking real effort not to smile. There was something so easy and light to his playful attack. “Quit it.”

“Quit what?” Poke. The smile broke through, she couldn’t even say it was entirely against her will. After all, it was Eiffel, her friend, being mischievous. She’d wanted that.

She batted at his poking hands, biting her lip and smiling, knowing that if she said anything else right now, she’d break out laughing.

Eiffel was grinning at her, soft and affectionate. “Hmm? Still don’t know what the problem is here, Commander.” Poke poke poke.

His last poke found a particularly sensitive spot on her ribs, and her hands immediately snapped around his wrists, pulling him away. They stayed frozen for a moment, Eiffel’s eyes hesitant and questioning. Minkowski tried not to give anything away, but she knew she was still smiling.

She cleared her throat. “I have work to do.” She said, letting him go and floating back to the console, schooling her features.

Eiffel cocked his head, watching her curiously. Huh. “Okay!” He said, unable to resist clapping her on the shoulder and making her jump. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Sure.” She tried to sound uninterested, but once he had left, allowed that silly smile to come back.

That was… kind of fun.

That silly, happy feeling in her stomach was one she hung onto for the rest of the day. She had precious little time for levity, but Eiffel seemed to have made it his mission to get her to crack a smile at least once a week. She’d never tell him how much she appreciated that.

She didn’t see the others while she ate, but that wasn’t unusual, both of them tended to eat earlier than her. The common area was clear as well when she entered, so Minkowski resolved to spend the time before bed relaxing and re-reading her book.

It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds of peaceful reading when a familiar voice shouted, “Mutiny!” and she found herself being tackled from two different directions, held in a very awkward group hug.

It took a lot of effort not to laugh. “What the hell are you two doing?”

They were both grinning, which didn’t bode well. “Well,” Lovelace started, “Officer Eiffel alerted me to a crew issue that required our immediate attention.”

Eiffel was nodding along. He looked like the cat that got the cream.

Minkowski rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hm.”

“And what is this urgent issue?”

A pair of hands squeezed her sides, making her jolt. Lovelace’s smirk grew. “Morale was low.”

Oh no. “Don’t even think about-” Her mouth snapped shut when she felt a poke at that same weak spot on her ribs from earlier. Her head whipped around to glare at Eiffel, but he only grinned back and poked the same spot on the other side.

She tried not to smile. They were right there, and no matter how much she squirmed in their sneaky group hug, she couldn’t get away.

Did she want to?

That thought was cut short when Lovelace’s hand scratched gently at her stomach, making her jump and clasp one hand over her mouth to hide her twitchy smile, the other clamping onto her wrist and trying to push her away.

Lovelace chuckled. “Oh, nice try, lucky I’ve got two of these things.” Her other hand took up where the first left off, clawing and scratching and, generally speaking, driving her a bit crazy.

And Eiffel wouldn’t stop poking at her. It shouldn’t be this effective, it just shouldn’t! Every new poke made her jump, her shoulders now shaking with silent laughter.

“Sorry Commander.” Eiffel said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “But Pryce and Carter five clearly states; ‘Remain positive at all times. Maintain a cheerful attitude even in the face of adversity.’ Just following procedure.”

Oh, fuck him. “Shut u- nohoho!” Goddamnit, now that she’d started laughing she couldn’t stop. And of course, they weren’t stopping. She tried to shove at Lovelace’s hands as they clawed at her sides, but then Eiffel wormed a finger under her arm and she was suddenly curled up in a ball, giggling like a little kid. She didn’t giggle, she was the Commander of a space station!

“How’s morale?” Eiffel said teasingly. “Any better?”

She cracked an eye open to glare at them, but instead of the smug grins she was expecting, found herself faced with twin smiles so full of affection and softness that she immediately closed her eyes again with a squeak, feeling her face and ears flush and shoving her hands up to hide.

“Awww.”

Minkowski tried to growl between giggles. “You- you’re both sohoho dead!”

Lovelace hummed, squeezing at her kneecap. “That doesn’t sound like good morale.”

“Fuck you!”

Eiffel laughed. “Commander! You kiss your mother with that mouth?” He slowly counted up her ribs, making her try to twist that side away, snorting.

“Kiss my ahahass!”

He tutted. “And when we’re trying so hard to cheer you up.” His hands found the twin sweet spots halfway up her ribcage, and he decided to linger there for a bit, lightening his touch. Minkowski gave an incoherent shout, and he and Lovelace shared a grin. “Cute.” He mouthed, knowing Minkowski wouldn’t notice.

Lovelace raised her eyebrows daringly. “Cute!” She said aloud, delighting in how much redder her face got beneath her hands.

Minkowski felt like her brain was melting out of her ears. Even if they stopped, she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop laughing. She felt giddy and silly and really really happy.

Not that she had to admit to that. “Ihihihi-I’m gonna have you- AH- cohohourt martialled!”

They both laughed. “I’m not military.” Eiffel said.

Lovelace shrugged. “I’m legally dead.”

“Spierdalaj!” She spat.

Lovelace laughed. “Polish? Cute.” Then, because she was curious, she let one hand drift up and gently trace and scratch around one of her flushed ears.

Oh no. “Nononono wait! Wahahahait!” It tickled, it really tickled! The feeling of fingertips ghosting over her ear made her want to crawl out of her skin, and when Lovelace’s nails came into play she shook her head back and forth in an attempt to throw her off. She was dimly aware that her giggles had gotten to a pitch best described as squeaky, and that made everything so much worse.

Eiffel was mostly just hugging her now. “Morale okay there?” He murmured, just close enough to her other ear to make her squeak and shake her head.

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her hair. It was nice to see her laugh. Minkowski really didn’t let herself go much, so he knew he’d need backup. He’d seen the hesitant way she’d pulled away from him earlier, how she’d forced the smile from her face. Seemed like sometimes, she wanted to let herself go.

God. How could she feel Eiffel smiling at her? He wasn’t even tickling now, leaving Lovelace to wreak havoc on her ears, his head resting against hers, and he was smiling at her and it felt warm like the sun. And she couldn’t stop giggling!

Finally, she snapped, hands dropping from her face to grab at Lovelace’s wrists, fully revealing that wide, giddy smile.

Lovelace grinned back at her, eyes crinkling a little at the corners. “There she is.” She said, gently poking her on the nose before Minkowski managed to grab her hand to stop her.

Minkowski heaved in a breath, still giggling. This was better, but they were still both right there, looking at her when she was a complete mess. She turned as best she could and buried her face in Eiffel’s shoulder.

Lovelace’s grin turned wolfish. Feeling a little evil, she took a deep breath, leaned closer, and blew a loud raspberry just behind her ear.

A few things happened at once. First, Minkowski screamed. Then she impulsively slapped Lovelace hard across the face, and with the force of her spasming, broke free from their trap of an embrace, weakly floating away.

Lovelace cackled, rubbing her cheek, and Eiffel wrapped a hand around her ankle. “Where are you going?”

She couldn’t stop laughing. This was so dumb, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. “Okay!” Minkowski managed to say between giggles as Eiffel reeled her back in. “Okayokayokay- okay!”

He grinned, wrapping his lanky arms around her again and letting her hide her face in his chest. “I guess morale is good now?”

She nodded weakly. It didn’t feel like she’d stop smiling for a long while.

Lovelace chuckled and rubbed calming circles on her back. “I can’t believe you slapped me.”

Minkowski grumbled at her, not trusting herself to speak.

Eiffel laughed. “I mean you kind of deserved it, that was mean.”

“Worth it.” She said, utterly unrepentant. “Still alive there, Minkowski?”

She didn’t think she could handle looking at either of them right now. Still. “You’re both dead.”

“Uh huh.”

“Of course.”

They had the gall to sound amused. “I’m serious.”

“Oh yeah.” Eiffel let one hand stroke her hair down flat. “This is a very serious situation, don’t you know.”

She turned her head just enough to glare at him. Then her breath hitched when he let one finger trail a little too close to her ear, but he went no further. Just proving a point. Proving that, even though he couldn’t see it, he knew she was still smiling. Proving that he knew how much she’d needed that.

“Shut up.” She muttered, squeezing him tightly because she couldn’t find the courage to say thank you.

His shoulders shook from quiet laughter, and he squeezed back just as tightly. “Sure thing, Commander.”

#tickle fic #wolf 359 tickle fic #wolf 359 #Ticklish!Eiffel #Ticklish!Minkowski #fluffy tickles #w359 tickles

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