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eddiesghxst · 4 months

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PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)

AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks

i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat

contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3

word count: 10.6k

| previous part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”

Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.

That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.

The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.

The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”

What a bullshit fucking question.

Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?

Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.

And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”

It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.

“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.

Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.

Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.

You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.

Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.

He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.

Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!

And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left.

He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”

Anna nearly gagged then.

Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting.

“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.

“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”

Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.”

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.

Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.

Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”

Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.

And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes.

Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.

You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.

God, you’re really fucking here.

Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.

He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.

His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.

He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”

Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.

“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”

It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.

His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”

The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.

The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.

You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.

Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.

You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”

You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”

The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.

It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.

Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.

“I thought you’d be way more upset.”

Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.

You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.

He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.

You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.

You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”

You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.

Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”

Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.”

Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you.

“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?

Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”

Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.

Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”

Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, “I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.”

Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.”

“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.

It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.

It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.

It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.

Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away.

“How's that for a kiss?”

Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.

You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”

You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.

There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.

Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about.

Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.

“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.

You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”

You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.

His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?

Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.

You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”

Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”

Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”

Honey, honey, honey.

You want to drown in it.

You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.

“Copy that, madam.”

He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.

He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.

God, he’s relentless.

You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”

He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”

And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.

A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.

Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.

You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.

Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”

You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.

“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.

“Did you listen to the albums?”

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Oh my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.

You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.

Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”

“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.

Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.

Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.

“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”

You snort, “Negative.”

You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”

Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.

You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”

He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.

You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.”

It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.

“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”

“You’re just playing nice.”

“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?

“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”

It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”

You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.

Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.

Your blink, “I— no?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”

And, ouch.

That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?

“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.

Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.

“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?”

Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”

“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”

Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.

You sold me out to save yourself

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.

“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”

Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.

“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”

You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”

Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.

Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.

It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’

But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.

He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.

Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin.

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”

Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.

He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.

He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.

You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.

The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?

He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.

He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”

Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”

There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name.

It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.

Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.

Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”

You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back.

You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”

Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.

You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”

Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.

“You know…It’s past midnight.”

“Fffuck–”

Eddie’s dead.

He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?

Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.

Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.

Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.

“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.

“You want me?” He asks.

Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.

And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”

Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.

His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.”

You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”

You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.

You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.

“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”

You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”

You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.

You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.

Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.

It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.

Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.

Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.

Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.

You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”

The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.

Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.

“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs.

“Lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you.

It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.

He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.

He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”

“Jesus fuck— turn around.”

You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.

His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.

He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.

You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.

You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”

Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”

You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.

He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.

It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.

Supernova shit or something like that.

Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”

“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”

You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.

He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.

“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”

You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.

“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”

“Now you’re just stringing me along.”

You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”

Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”

He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again.

After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?

————

the end.

————

a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS

if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹

the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3

anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

@mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking @mysteris-things @amazingori @honey-eyed-munson @saintlike78 @eddieslooneymoonie @alexa4040 @yujyujj

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catherinnn · 1 year

Text

"Can you kiss me again?"

just a little blurb bc I was bored and I can't get this boy out of my head.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun setting on its sunset hours—or golden hour, as Kie called it—you were all at the château after a day of surfing and swimming in the ocean. The guys with Cleo were playing a game of poker, Sarah with Kie and I weren’t paying much attention since we weren’t really good at it, so we just stick to chatting among ourselves right next to all of them like a happy family—just like JJ always said.

“I’m out” Pope sighed and threw his cards on the table.

“Nah, I’m all in” John B. confirmed moving some of the poker chips on the table. “JJ?”

“I’m in, bro” he did the same.

“I didn’t listen to his new album yet, is it good?” Sarah talked with Kie.

“It’s amazing, one of his bests so far. Did you listen to it?” Kie asked you.

“A few songs, not all of it yet. But I liked it so far”

“I think you win this one, I’m out” Cleo continued with the game.

“But what about SZA’s new album, I’ve only listened to Kill Bill because of tik tok, but I’m kind of obsessed with it” Sarah commented.

“Oh my god, It’s amazing, I’ve had it on repeat since it came out” Cleo ignored the guys while they kept playing and joined our conversation.

“Yeah, me too, especially Kill Bill, like you said, Sarah”

“I know, it’s so good right-“

“Wait! No! That’s cheating!” Sarah was cut off by a screaming JJ, who suddenly started jumping on his seat next to you on the couch.

“That’s not cheating! What are you talking about?” John B. defended his move.

“Pope, check if it is cheating, help me out here” JJ demanded.

“It’s not cheating man, he’s right, he won” Pope confirmed.

“Oh, come on man!” he complained.

“You’re just a sore loser, deal with it JJ” John B. grinned.

“That’s so not true,” JJ started again, leaning back on the couch and resting his head on your shoulder, “They’re cheating”

“What happened, J?” you asked in a sweet voice as if he was a baby.

“My cards were higher than his, they’re just complotting against me ‘cause they don’t like when I win”

“Oh, don’t pout like that!” you were dying ‘cause of how cute he was right now. Your hand started stroking his hair to make him feel better, which was working because he just loved your attention on him.

“I’m not pouting” he lied.

“Yes, you are” you told him. You realized you needed something more to make him feel better again, and the best idea popped into your head. “Come here” he looked at you again and the hand that was on his hair came down to his cheek, you leaned closer—more than you already were—and you left soft kisses on his other cheek, moving closer and closer to his lips. One, two, three, four kisses. Until your lips touched his, not yet kissing, you teased a little, touching them with yours for a moment. As you realized he didn’t complain to this, he just stayed there accepting and enjoying your every touch, you dared—without thinking twice—and started kissing him, very slowly, very softly.

He moved his lips just the way you were doing it, like he was following your moves. You moves away, making it a short kiss—after all, this was your first kiss together. He opened his eyes and looked at you as if you were something magical, he was completely mesmerized.

Suddenly, you were brought back from your own little world when you heard hysterical laughing from the boys sat in front of you. JJ happened to be thinking the same because of the way he looked at them, frowning and the little smile he had before long gone.

“Did you see his face?” Pope managed to say in between all of his laughs.

“Was that your first kiss ever, dude?” John B. mocked him.

“That, or he clearly just fell in love” Kie joined in in the mocking.

“Shut up” JJ said. You smirked. After they calmed down a bit, they asked for a round two.

“You wanna play again?” John B. asked picking the cards up from the table.

“No” he simply answered him, later to move his head towards you. “Can you kiss me again?”

You smiled. “All of the kisses you want”

“Oh, he’s gonna be so whipped now” Pope complained.

“Now? You’ve clearly never noticed before” Sarah commented.

“Yeah, he’s been whipped long before that kiss” Kiara confirmed.

“Could you shut up and continue without me?” JJ shut them up and turned to you again, “Now, where were we?”

The evening continued with Pope and John B. trying to teach the girls how to play while you both ignored them, coming back to your own little world together, sharing more kisses with little comments and laughs between you two.

a/n: idk anything about poker so if you do and you read this, I'm sorry lol.

#jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank drabble #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank

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billgetsmewet · 2 months

Text

i will save your life…

request : HELLLOOOO so like- what if uh Bill x reader but like they do it while listening to deftones?? (Ex: Risk from the dimond eyes album or something) idk i feel like that would be a good short story idk 🫶🏻

warnings : p in v, smut, handjob, sub!bill, petnames (ex princess/slut etc.)

Bill has been on tour foreverrr.. he was supposed to come back today, you were telling all of your friends about it. It was a big thing, considering hes been all over europe in the past few weeks, not even stepping a foot in your hometown.

He calls you up out of nowhere saying the bus broke down, great. - you think to yourself as you sigh, making him hear on the other end of the phone. I wish i could be there with you already.. - he mumbles, but you can barely hear him.

The music in the background blurs his voice but so does the fact that he barely has any signal.

I cant hear you.. -you chuckle- are you listening to deftones in the bus?.. -you ask, making him focus on the music for a second.

Oh im not the one who put it on, it was Gustav - he chuckles aswell, before getting a bit startled by someone next to him.

The bus is fixed! - he yells out. Were gonna be there soon!

You feel your mouth rounding up into a cheeky smile as he says that, you both know what youre gonna do together when he gets home..

You get a ring at your doorbell, you get shivers down your spine as you rush downstairs to unlock the door for him.

You open the door and hug him, not even letting him enter before you do.

Is that.. deftones? - he laughs, hearing the CD player bursting deftones in your room at max volume. yeah.. i thought youd like it - you reply nervously. yeah! i dont mind it, if you know what i mean - he laughs, almost laughing off the fact that you tried to impress him.

You invite him upstairs into your room, as you always do, trying to “enjoy some time with him”. you sit down on your bed, just as he does, right next to you.

The music is blurring out any sound you might hear in your room or anywhere in your house, basically its hella fucking loud, eardrums hurting type of loud.

You look at Bill, trying to tell you something you just cant hear, with lust in his eyes, his lips glossy and his look begging for you.

You didnt even have to read his lips to know what he wanted, you felt it straight up.

You smile at him, before standing up to lower the music a bit so youd be able to hear his moans.

Next thing you know hes in his boxers and youre palming him, hes rock hard, whining for you to do something about it.. what a slut.

B-bmhh.. baby.. mhh! please! please! -he moans pathetically, begging you to fuck him.

Be patient now, wont you? you made me wait too.. you didnt visit me for weeks for some stupid tour, isnt that true, hm? -you argue.

He just keeps whining and moaning like a dog, his eyes tearing up. Baby it hurts.. p-please it hurts.. -he cries, yet you let him cry, you keep palming him and teasing him. You feel his precum leaking from his boxers, “god..” you thought to yourself, trying to hold yourself back, not letting him win.

Eventually he did win, no matter how hard you tried, you couldnt resist his puppy eyes. The music is still blasting in your ears as you hear a big moan from him, louder than the music, he has managed to rip the boxers… how? i dont know, you tell me.. It was a sign to jerk him off, or atleast you took it that way.

You started slowly pumping him from the bottom with one hand , while you tease his red, swollen tip with the other. His precum has already coated both of your palms. A-Ah!.. Ah!! please.. faster..mmh! -he moans, how cute. You do as he tells you and you start pumping him faster, now with both hands.

His mouth hangs agape, moaning and crying submissively.

Please.. please.. mommy.. please.. let me cum..-he whimpers. Do you think you deserve it, Billy? Have you been a good boy? -you ask in reply. Yes! mh..mhm! mhm.. please! yes!

He just wouldnt shut up, would he?…

A-hhmm..ah! mommy.. i cant take it anymore-mmh.. im gonna cum.. mmh.. - he moans, before comming all over your hands.

Now this wasnt acceptable, what a dirty little whore. Cant even listen to his own girlfriend.

Oh look at what youve done.. this dirty boy needs punishing, doesnt he? look at you.. - you say, degrading him. I-i.. i didnt mean to, im sorry.. i couldnt hold it back.. Nuh-uh! This dirty slut needs punishing after this.

You unbuckle your belt, letting your pants fall down, making a clinking sound as the belts hit the hardwood floor. You get ontop of him, grabbing his waist, sitting down on his lap, teasing him before you actually begin.

Oh look at you now.. already hard again.. -you say, seeing his boner become more and more intense. What a slut for mommy, arent you?

You take off your lingerie, making him stare at your bare pussy, this time, he was even harder.

You get ontop of him, bouncingyourself up and down, relaxing into the music and ignoring his requests and moans.

A-Ah! please slow down, it hurts.. mmh..-he was so sensitive, what a submissive boy.

Mhm?.. ah.. fuck.. Bill.. arent you a dirty little sensitive slut for mama, hm? -you groan, trying to hold back your whimpers and cries, he was big, you couldnt lie.

You started bouncing faster, not caring about his high but about your own, he was already a spoiled little boy anyways.

Mama.. mh.. i cant take it anymore im gonna cum again…-he cries, coincidentally right before you reach your climax, cumming all over his abdomen, making him not able to finish.

Fuck.. -you breathe heavily as you get off him. But.. But mommy… -he whines.

Bad boys dont get to finish, darling…

———————————————————————

Ps: i wrote this in school it took me like two hours and why tf is it so short… anyways the coffee thay im drinking rn is hitting diff ughhh, i think its mocha or something

#bill kaulitz #tokio hotel #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #smut #bill kaulitz smut #tokio hotel smut #bill kaulitz fanfic

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distorted59 · 9 months

Note

HIII! I have a request if you have time, but after seeing what you did for Larsy Poo I need, - in fact, I am on my hands and knees for head cannons for James Het PLEASE 🧎🏻‍♀️

Thank you 😊 MWAH

Hey lovely!!! sorry it took a whole while, I'm finally back home and school and work are biting my ass. but, here it is!!! hope you enjoy! @buzzbuzzbowie also asked for this, thank you both! <3

Okay, so if we’re talking about 80s James, (like ‘81-’87), he’s definitely submissive asf!! he’s just… just… he was so shy and pretty LIKE SHUT UP SFKFSKSFSKJS. (he still is)

He def has mommy issues. So, he craves validation and care. Especially in the beginning, he’s still young and just into fame, could learn a thing or two. Once he gets older, more masculine, angrier and his voice deeper and deeper. He still has that need, it’s an itch no one can really scratch but you.

He was sexually inexperienced, (due to his family’s religions he had to leave health class and all that stuff). so just IMAGINE teaching young Jamie some things!!!! oml i’m melting!!!!!

“Am I doing okay?” James pants from in between your thighs. He’s looking up at you through his bangs that are sticking to his sweaty forehead. His blue eyes twinkling with eagerness and lust.

“You’re doing great, baby.” You reassure him as you caress his hair lovingly.

“Hmm, you taste so good.” He moans into your pussy and continues fucking you with his tongue.

Loves it when there’s a emotional connection, normally he’d fuck the shit out of girls/groupies without thinking twice. But, he loves it when he’s taken care of.

Loves the aftercare as well!! Cuddling or showering together, loves it when you wash his hair!

praising kink, mommy kink????? i dunno. I just know his whimpers and begging would be so pretty <3.

Would get jealous pretty fast, he wants all of your attention on HIM.

He’s also pretty protective of you, even as friends. Like, just imagine you and the bar hanging out at a bar, early Metallica days, and some guys are bothering you. This man would be prepared to throw hands. (just like he did for Larz, cuz he has a big mouth).

He has a big nose, so you can sit on it. (no headcanon tho, it’s the truth.)

He would call you all needy from his hotel room. (I see black album!James in my head). And i mean you know he’s fucking groupies, you know he is. but, he’s never satisfied, you got your fucking claws in him.

“Come on, pick up…” James mutters into the phone, he’s horny and desperate, only wanting to hear your voice.

“Hello?” Your tired voice rings through his ear.

“H-hey, sweetheart.” James stammers. “How are you? i miss you. Did I wake you?” he rushes through his words not wanting to be rude, but he is just so horny.

“hm, I’m good, baby.” you yawn. “You did wake me, but that’s okay.”

He stays silent for a bit, he’s slowly stroking himself. Just your voice is enough to make him crazy. You can hear some hitched breaths through the phone and decide to play with him a little.

“What are you doing, baby?”

“N-nothing, I’m just tired.” he quickens his pace, knowing what you’re doing.

“Do you miss me?” you ask, your hand wandering to your panties.

“Fuck, yes. Of course, baby.”

“I miss you too, your voice, your touch…” You sigh. “you inside of me.”

“Oh, baby…” James lets out a strangled moan. “I need to feel you wrapped around me, I can’t take it.”

James starts stroking his cock faster while you already have started playing with your clit.

“Every night when I come off stage. I just think of you and I can’t….” James groans. “Can’t take it… need you here.”

“You wanna know what I'd do?”

“Yeah…”

“I’d ride you silly, until you’d see stars.” you moan.

“Fuck, so i can look at your pretty tits?” James gets closer to cumming.

“That’s right, darlin’.”

“Are you playing with yourself too?” He asks, his mind is driving him wild. He is so jealous of your fingers right now.

“Mhm.” you hum.

“Oh fuck, gonna cum, baby.”

“Cum with me, babe.”

Both of you would cum all over yourself and say loving words to each other before falling asleep <3.

Now, if we’re talking about current James. holy fucking shit. the dilfiest fucking dilf on this fucking earth.

His hands!!!! his fingers are super fucking skilled, this man can WORK them. stroking your hair, holding your hand, squeezing your thighs, making you suck his fingers while you look up at him innocently, lightly squeezing your throat with his other hand when you stop looking at him, finger-fucking you ‘till you cry… I can go on.

James and his cigars>>>>>>

Just imagine you sitting on his thigh, needy and desperate. He’s wearing some bootcut jeans that fit him perfectly. You’re in some comfortable pj shorts and slowly rubbing yourself on the material of his jeans. He’s really enjoying the view while smoking his cigar and puffing the smoke in your face.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He places his free hand on your hip, secretly guiding your grinding.

“Need more…” You whimper. “Please.”

“Hmm… I don’t think so, baby.” he takes another drag and slowly blows the smoke in your face. “I think you can easily cum like this, can’t you?”

He grins and holds the cigar close to your mouth, making you take a drag. You slowly inhale while maintaining eye-contact, James groans loudly and grips your hip tighter. You blow the smoke back into his face and try to kiss him.

He gladly accepts the kiss and you can taste the cigar on his lips. You start grinding faster and moan into his mouth. James keeps guiding you and smirks up at your needy state.

“Gonna cum all over my jeans, princess?”

He’d spoil you like crazy. You don’t want much, just him. but, he still takes care of you in every single way he can.

Feel like he might have a breeding kink, daddy kink and all that. He just wants to fill you all up and claim you. Mark you, show the world and everyone in it you are his. <3

Imagine car rides with James???? I’d sell my left tit for that. (maybe not). Just a chill ride in one of his muscle cars, or his truck, love me some of that. Some music on low volume, the weather’s nice, the sun's about to set. Yes, just yes.

Or staying at his house for dinner??? I would fucking love to chill in his backyard and he’s working over at the bbq. I just know this man can cook up a mean steak.

Damn, now I’m hungry for James AND his cooking.

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ln4madness · 18 days

Text

hit me hard and soft - LN4

summary: y/n is a big fan of billie eilish so obviously lando has to listen to every song of the album💙

warnings: none? gets kinda sad and angsty and mention of smut.

“OMG LANDO LANDO LANDO LANDOOOO!!!” Y/n practically screamed as she ran into the bathroom where Lando was getting ready for the day.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Lando tried to say while brushing his teeth.” Y/n looked at him, smiling from ear to ear, “Hit me hard and soft is out” y/n said with excitement. Lando looked at Y/n in a surprise. “Excuse me, what now is out?” Lando said being surprised after hearing the name of the album. “Billie’s new album you muppet”

You were sitting at the kitchen island, eating breakfast with Lando as you connected your phone to the speaker and pressed play.

“This is sad” Lando said as the first notes of SKINNY started playing.

“Just listen to it and shut up”

You were on the werge of tears as the song continued.

People say i look happy

Just because i got skinny

But the old me is still me and maybe the real me

And i think she’s pretty

When you heard these lyrics you let the tears fall down your cheeks. “Don’t cry baby” Lando said as he smiled at you. “I can’t, are you actually listening to the lyrics Lan?” “I am baby and this song is beautiful, just like you.” You smiled when he said these words to you.

When the song ended you pressed pause before the next one had started.

“So what do you think?” You asked Lando.

“Oh i loved it, its beautiful”

“Yeah it’s literally a 10/10 I love it.”

“This is different” Lando said as the song started playing over the speaker.

“When a little snippet of this was released I already fell in love with it.” You said.

It’s a craving not a crush

…

I could eat that girl for lunch

You smiled and looked at Lando as Billie sang the lyrics. “What?” Lando asked as he looked back at you. “Listen to the lyrics, I could eat you for lunch” You said and giggled at Lando. “Whoa whoa whoa, it’s still breakfast time, that’s for later” He said and smirked.

“Wow, this was amazing.” Lando said as the song ended. “For real, my favorite already” you answered. “Okay on to the next one now” you said and pressed play.

“Oh you showed me the snippet of this one, I like it.” Lando said. “Yeah it’s amazing, such a masterpiece.”

As the song goes on you and Lando keep listening to it while enjoying breakfast. The song is amazing, you love it, lando loves it, it’s amazing.

“You know what this is?” You ask Lando. “No?” he replies. “This is the perfect song for late night drives.” You tell lando. “Actually yes, we’re definitely playing this on our next late night drive.” Lando says and gives you a kiss.

The song comes to an end and you ask Lando what he thinks of it.

“I think it’s a really good song, definitely a 9 or a 10.”

I want you to stay

‘Til I’m in the grave

‘Til I rot away, dead and buried

‘Til I’m in the casket you carry

If you go, I’m going too

Cause it was always you

“Baby I think these lyrics are about us, cause nothing’s gonna come between us.”

“That’s so sweet y/n, I love you so much”

You make your way to Lando who is sitting on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You wrap your arms around his neck and Lando instantly pulls you in by your waist.

Birds of a feather

We should stick together

“We will always stick together baby.” Lando smiles at you.

“This isn’t another sad song is it?” Lando asks. “I don’t know baby, just listen”

And I know that you love me

You don’t need to remind me

You smiled at Lando as you both listened to the song and the lyrics.

“I love you” You whisper to him. “I love you too sweetheart” Lando whispers back to you and presses his lips to yours.

As the song starts playing, instantly there are tears streaming down your face.

“Noo don’t cry again, love” Lando says as he pulls you in a hug. “It’s just a really really sad song” “I know, baby, I know”

Man am I the greatest

The greateeeeeeeesssstttttt

“Sometimes that’s what I think.” You say, immediately realizing that there are a million questions about to be asked.

“What do you mean baby?” Lando asks as his smile drops a little. “Am I the greatest?” You answer.

“Honey, what do you mean by all this? Are you the greatest? Of course you are.” Lando says as he’s holding your face in his hands and looking in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, let’s just listen to the next song, love you”

But I need to confess, I told you a lie

I said you, you

Were the love of my life

“You when I say you’re the love my life, it’s never a lie.” You tell Lando. “I know baby, and you’re the love of my life, best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I’m the best thing that’s happened to you? Not even winning in Miami?” You ask

“You two share that best thing ever place”

You smile at Lando and ruffle his hair a little, messing it up. “Now try to do that again, you looked good drenched in all that sweet champagne, it tasted good as well I wanna drink it again.” “You mean drink it or lick it off my body again?” Lando says and smirks at you. “Nah I liked drinking it out of a glass, didn’t have that sweaty taste.”

“You muppet” Lando said as he playfully smacked your head. “Didn’t your mom teach you to not hit girls?” “Hey that was barely a hit”

The song is almost done as the melody changes and a beat comes on.

“Ouuu I like this” You say. “Yeah, just how you like messing up my hair.” Lando said as he tried to fix his hair you messed up earlier.

“Wow this sounds like something from a 50s food place” Lando says.

“Yeah obviously, did you like go deaf when I told you the name of this song - the diner”

“Oh yeahh makes sense.”

“Fucking idiot” You say as you laugh

“Your idiot” “My idiot”

“This is nice, already my favorite” You say.

“Didn’t you say Lunch was your favorite?” Lando raised a brow at you. “I can have two favorites you know?”

“Omg” you laugh. “What?” Lando asks.

“Billie is never beating the kahoot music allegations

“What?” Lando laughs and has a confused expression on his face. “Well you know how everyone said NDA sounds like among us? this sounds like kahoot music”

The song kept playing and you both had no idea what’s about to come. You’re enjoying the song, and soon the song is almost at the end.

“This is really nice wow”

“Yeah we got one more song left.”

Suddenly you hear a familiar melody.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, IT’S TRUE BLUE OMG LANDO OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS SHE FUCKING DID IT”

you were so happy you could explode with happiness right now.

“true blue? the unreleased song you showed me?”

“YEAH LANDO IT’S BEEN UNRELEASED FOR SO LONG OMG SHE FINALLY RELEASED BUT THIS IS LIKE DIFFERENT”

“What do you mean different?”

“This isn’t the original version, it’s like a new version, more grown up billie, i love it”

“I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE BUT I’M SO BLUEEEE”

“I’D LIKE TO MEAN IT WHEN I SAY I’M OVER YOUUU” You scream the lyrics and Lando just looks you with hearts in his eyes.

————————————————————————————

guys im literally in love with billie and hmhas i cant even explain it

(hardcore billie fan since 2017)

spent the whole day just watching the race (LANDO P2 YAY) and hockey and writing this fic😫😫😫

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toomuchracket · 4 months

Text

secret admirer (dad!ross x reader fluff)

day 1 of valentine's week by bff @abiiors!! in this one... the kids want to know how you and ross got together. cute as shit. enjoy <3

it's at dinnertime when you're first asked the question.

ross is quietly coaxing keir to finish his peas, to minimal success. eilidh swallows a mouthful of gravy-soaked mash and turns to look at you curiously. “mummy… how did you and dad meet?”

“you already know, bean,” you take a sip of your wine and smile at her. “met dad and your uncles when i helped design the stage for one of their first shows.”

ross takes a break from lecturing your son about the merits of eating your five-a-day to look at you and wink. there's a warmth in those dark eyes of his - the same one that got you hooked on him in the first place, actually - and you know he's thinking about that fateful first meeting too. “yeah, when i had to save mum, eilidh,” he chuckles. “from matty talking about his vision at a hundred miles an hour. her eyes were proper glazed over and everything, you know.”

“they still go like that when he talks to you now sometimes, mummy,” keir adds, still pushing peas around his plate. his dad and sister laugh, while your jaw falls open at the fact you've been clocked by your four year old.

he's not wrong, though.

eilidh's giggles fade into soft hums. “but how did you end up being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

ross’s eyes meet yours again. he smirks, taking a sip of his own wine. “d'you want to tell the story, love?” he asks, foot sliding up your leg under the table, flirty. “or shall i tell them how i swept you off your feet?”

“oh, is that what it was?” you tease, trapping his leg between your own.

“of course.”

you laugh. “you and i remember it differently, then. but alright,” you stretch, shuffling in your seat before looking at your kids’ anticipated little faces. “here's what happened…”

2013

“should we do something different for valentine's day?”

you turn to look incredulously at matty, exhaling your cigarette smoke. “is further context required there, or are you asking me out? because absolutely not, if so.”

“oh, charming. thank god i see you as a little sister and no more,” matty winces, taking a drag of his own cigarette before he speaks again. “i mean for the show on the 14th. we could do, like, pink lighting instead of white, or something.”

you hum. “i don't hate the idea. but i think sticking with the black and white thing is maybe a good idea for now. cohesion, recognition, establishing identity as you gear up to release the album, all that jazz, yeah?”

“good point.”

“i do like the pink, though. maybe we could do something with it in the future?”

“yeah. i'll keep it in mind. usual staging it is, then,” matty turns to face you, resting a shoulder on the brick wall. “so, given that you've theoretically rejected me…

you roll your eyes.

“... who are you seeing on valentine's day?”

“nobody. we've got a gig, remember?” you ash your cigarette glumly. “i'll be selling t-shirts with your face on them up the back of the venue all night.”

“and i love you - platonically - for that,” your friend grins. “but what about after the show?”

“after?”

“yeah.”

you ponder. “probably just going home to shower off the residual weed smell i'll inevitably take on, to be honest.”

matty laughs; his face drops when he realises you're not kidding. “oh. you're serious.”

“mhmm.”

“but,” he looks baffled. “you're twenty-three. you're cute, objectively. you're sweet. you're fun. there's really nobody you want to spend valentine's day with?”

well… your lips part of their own accord as if to speak; you quickly snap them shut before you make a sound. no. you can't tell anyone. especially matty, of all people.

apparently, though, you don't close your mouth fast enough - your friend notices, and giggles, eyes lighting up. “who is he? go on, tell me. promise i won't tell anyone, honest.”

“not a chance.”

“pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“no, matthew,” you take a final drag of your cigarette before stamping it out. “i'm never telling anyone, because it'll never go anywhere between me and him anyway, and thus i am perfectly fine just letting the crush i have fade without acting on it. i'll develop another one soon, anyway.”

no you won't. you've never fancied someone as much in your life as you fancy…

“there you are. was wondering where you'd gotten to, matty,” ross wanders round the side of the building, relief evident on his face. it seems to light up when he sees you, but that's most likely your brain playing tricks on you. “oh. hiya, love. didn't know you were in today, s'nice to see you.”

love?!

shut up. it's ross. he calls everyone that, dipshit.

you clear your throat. “hi, ross. s'nice to see you too. you look… well.”

you pray neither of the boys noticed the awkward pause while you came up with an alternative for “devastatingly attractive”, or that your voice didn't sound as small and squeaky as it sounded to you.

thankfully, neither of them mention it. ross just smiles, and all you can do is focus on not squealing at how cute his dimples are. “thanks. you look good. hair's nice like that.”

“oh,” you self-consciously touch the ponytail you hastily shoved your hat-messy hair into earlier. “thank you.”

he smiles again. “so, what are you gonna develop another of? were you talking about work?”

you say “yes” at the same time the gobshite next to you says “yeah, but then we moved onto talking about how she has no valentine's day plans but she also won't tell whoever she has a crush on that she wants to shag them because she thinks it’s unrequited.”

for fuck's sake.

sighing, you facepalm. ross blinks. “fair enough.”

“you don't think she should tell him?” matty looks aghast.

“what i think is that you should stop pestering her about it,” ross looks pointedly at matty, then turns to you. “but - and i don't want to overstep the mark here, love…”

“no, no, it's fine.”

“... you’ll never get what you really want unless you ask for it,” he finishes, a pleasant smile on his face. “what have you got to lose by doing so, anyway?”

this. our friendship. potentially my job, if i fuck it up enough.

“yeah, i suppose,” you murmur hesitantly. “i'll consider it.”

and you do - in fact, you're still considering it when you next see ross, during setup for the gig on the big day itself. he appears when you're pushing the box light into position on the tiny stage, quickly laying down his bass to run and help you, despite your protests that you've got everything under control.

seeing his arms flex as he works, though, and the way the stark white light somehow manages to warm up those dark eyes? you most definitely do not. still, you refuse to say anything to him then. or before the show, when he automatically passes you a beer so you can be included in the pre-gig cheers. or afterwards, when he risks being pounced upon by drunken fans just so he can help you pack up the merch stall, cracking jokes despite his tiredness.

it's only when you're loading the boxes of t-shirts into adam's car that you actually start to think that mentioning the crush to ross might not be a bad thing. you close the boot with a weary sigh, turning to face ross and high-five him - like you always do - with gratitude. and then he does something… strange.

he hugs you.

it's not a long hug, and definitely one of the “thanks, mate” variety, but still. it's not a common thing to happen between the two of you, ross’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and your waist and pulling you into his chest. it's warm. cosy. safe. and as soon as he lets go, you miss him.

before you get a chance to dwell on that, though, he speaks. “you coming to the pub with us now?”

“us?” your brow furrows. “who's us?”

“everyone except adam and waughy,” ross grins. “you're not the only one with no valentine's plans, love,” his face contorts into panic. “wait, fuck, i just assumed, because you said last week-”

“ross, relax, babe,” you smile, beating yourself up internally for the way the pet name just slipped out; you blame the joy that fizzed up in your stomach when he essentially admitted he's single. “i'm coming to the pub.”

he smiles again, relief evident in his eyes. “alright. good. i think we'll have a good night.”

you do, actually, despite matty monologuing the whole walk there about “you should just phone that guy you like and tell him. for the love of god, at least one of us needs to pull tonight. s'depressing if we don't”. it's actually george who manages that first, disappearing after the first round with a redhead and returning, lipstick-stained and gleefully dazed, half an hour later. matty's next, chatting up girls at the bar and collecting phone numbers by the handful, pointing out vaguely handsome men to you with “yes? no? maybe?” to no avail.

ross doesn't pull at all.

not for lack of trying from the female clientele in the pub, though - every time he leaves the table, you watch heads turn in his direction, and some bodies following. envy tinges your vision green whenever a girl approaches him, but you needn't worry; no matter how pretty or persistent or personable the girls are, ross politely chats as he waits for the drinks, bids them goodbye, and comes back to you. well, to the table. where he sits next to you.

it makes you feel good. so good, in fact, that you decide to tell him how you feel, right then and there. you take another sip of your wine - dutch courage and all - and rest your elbow on the table and your head on your hand, facing ross. “i'm glad i came out tonight.”

“so am i,” he mirrors your pose, smiling. god, you love his dimples. “it's been a good night.”

“yeah. not a bad valentine's day at all.”

ross giggles. “as good as it gets for singles,” he takes a sip of his pint, then looks at you a bit more seriously. “you spoken to that guy yet? the one you like?”

you bite down a giggle, shaking your head. “d'you think i should? ask him out?”

“if you really like him, yeah.”

“but,” you look down at the table, absentmindedly running your index finger round the rim of your glass. “what if he doesn't like me?”

“why wouldn't he?” ross's voice is soft - so are his eyes, you look up to discover. “you're great.”

“really?”

he nods. “really great.”

your heart glows. your face does the same. “thank you, ross.”

he shrugs. “i'm just telling the truth, love. now,” he grins, tapping your phone. “ask him.”

bless him.

you exhale, smiling. “alright,” you turn round to compose yourself, then look back at ross with a smile. “would you like to go for dinner with me?”

for a second, you falter as ross's brow furrows. “what, now? like a kebab- oh,” his jaw drops, and he blinks a few times. “really? it's me that you have a crush on?”

“yeah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, nervous. “is that… really bad?”

“hmm? no, no, not at all! just surprising, s'all,” ross takes your free hand in his own. he looks dazed, but he's genuinely smiling. “i had no idea you liked me like that.”

“and here i was thinking i was doing a shit job at hiding it.”

ross laughs, softly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb; warmth erupts under your skin wherever he touches. he looks at you, so tenderly you want to look away. “yes.”

your turn to be confused. “yes i was doing a shit job at hiding my crush on you? or…?”

“no, love,” ross chuckles, squeezing your hand. “yes, i'd love to go for dinner with you. tomorrow too soon?”

you feel weightless, joyous, positively giddy. but you have to stay cool, so you simply beam at him. “tomorrow's perfect.”

present day

“...so, we went for dinner - pasta, before you ask, keir - and that was it. dad said he wanted to be my boyfriend before we'd even gotten to the tiramisu,” you smile at the memory. “and then we were like that for a while, and then we got married, and then we had you two. and now, here we are.”

“that's it?” keir frowns at you, then looks up at his dad. “but you said you swept mum off her feet.”

ross snorts, ruffling his son's hair. “yeah, not literally, keeks. i just meant that she was very impressed by me.”

“i don't get it.”

“well, ask matty to explain metaphors to you when you next see him, then.”

you wince (ross laughs at that), turning to your daughter, preoccupied with petting ash the cat, who climbed onto her lap halfway through your talk. “thoughts, eils?”

“hmm,” she makes a face. “it's not a very exciting story, mum.”

“cute, though, no?”

“kind of, i guess.”

“wow, you two are hard to impress,” you sigh, turning to ross and smiling despite your kids’ boredom. “worked out well for us, though, didn't it?”

“absolutely, love. couldn't have worked out any better,” ross leans over the table to kiss you; you return it with relish.

“ewwwwwwww! gross!”

“dad, please don’t do that to mum in front of me ever again.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #dad!ross #eilidh #keir #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fluff #ross x reader #valentine75

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keeksandgigz · 7 months

Text

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you.

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working.

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?”

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain.

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble.

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte.

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot.

“I was just joking, dickhead”

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery.

Fuck. No white dot.

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee.

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure.

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white.

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you.

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry.

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second.

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry.

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell.

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting.

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor.

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious”

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile.

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip.

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close.

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses.

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done.

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak”

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way.

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found.

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home”

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you.

He was supposed to be on the schedule.

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs.

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato.

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit.

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7.

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on.

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie.

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen.

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans.

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps.

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-”

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls.

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately.

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist.

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows.

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?”

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere.

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts.

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you.

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time.

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message.

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you?

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches.

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp.

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly.

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say, barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles.

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up.

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #stranger things fan fiction #eddie munson au #barista!eddie munson

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filmofhybe · 6 months

Text

A Magical Christmas with enhypen

🗯️ pairing : ot7 x oc 🎀 GENRE : fluff , 8th member of enha. 1093 wc (approximately)

; AUTHORS NOTES : welcome to day 6? of “24 days of Christmas with filmofhybe!!” Hope you guys enjoy this one!! And happy birthday to Niki & sunghoon!!🤭 (even tho it was yesterday)

MASTERLIST to my other works

정원 jungwon

He knows you have major, and I mean MAJOR SEASON DEPRESSION. All the members could just tell it has hit you when you start spacing out during the comeback recordings, not even trying in practices, rarely posting on weverse and giving fans less attention during offline fan sign. (you weren’t trying to be rude, again is just SEASON DEPRESSION and is draining you.) Is like you want to do good during winter comebacks but can’t because you HATED winter and as I said - season mf depression.

Jungwon being jungwon - whose a really good leader. Decided to take you out during Christmas just try to help you feel a bit better. Takes you to eat Korean BBQ in your cozy pajamas, buys you hot chocolate while you guys enjoy the beautiful Christmas lights all around seoul. He helps you take photos despite you being in your pajamas. Saying it would be nice to update your fans once a while to know you’re not “dead”. You captioned “thank you to our lovely jungwon for the pictures!!”, fans thanking him for taking you out during Christmas to feel the festive season and grateful that he cares about you, as well as understanding your seasonal depression.

“thank you for making my Christmas a bit better wonnie.”

“is okay! I’m glad your happy, not letting that silly season depression get to you!”

“Is still here but you made it better.”

“I’m flattered. This could be our little tradition.”

“Maybe if I’m in the mood to come out again next year!”

박종성 Park Jeongseong

Remember how he said he took Niki back to his place during their break. Yeah that would 101% be him. He knows how it feels to not being able to celebrate such a special occasion with your family, so he doesn’t hesitate to ask his parents to let you stay over. They all loved you anyways. His house was filled with really Christmas vibe decorations and a large Christmas tree in the middle of the living room and you’re groups signed album on the shelves which reminds you of your home :(

He cooks with dad during Christmas Day and it’s so good. You kept going back to his steak because who wouldn’t. They will include you in their Christmas karaoke later on as well as make you and jay perform your songs, which they will film it and send it back to your parents.

Not to mention, they brought you gifts and when you open each one of them, it made you really emotional because it felt like you were part of their family. Your parents were so grateful that they are taking good care of you, even miles away where you can’t celebrate Christmas together.

“Thank you so much for these gifts, I’m so thankful for all of you…”

“There’s no need y/n you would always be a family member to me!”

“Jay you’re gonna make her cry even more..”

“Good so I can post this on weverse..”

“WHAT NO?! IDOL PROTECTION HELLO??”

희 승 heeseung

Would stay in the dorm with you and you guys will just play games the whole time while streaming it. Either valorant to roblox, or even just chilling while listening to music. Constantly going into each others room to say hi to each others chat. And reading out funny donations.

“When’s the groups next comeback?”

“Guys we just had one?!”

“Did we-?”

“If you mean the one where you only sang for 6 seconds than yes..”

“SHUT UP HEESEUNG.”

Munching on shin ramyun and you both did a room tour of your rooms, showing how festive it is. Telling the chat what gifts you guys got each other and told them this is how you would be spending your Christmas with them. They honestly love you for that. Will go viral on Twitter for being the “best gaming duo.”

“What about your families?”

“Oh me and heeseung’s family hang out yesterday so we are just vibing today. The others are out.”

“We wanted to talk to engenes and play games so please enjoy!!”

심재윤 Sim Jaeyun

You both decided to film a cover for the fans during Christmas, so the whole day you guys were just in the HYBE building, vibing to Christmas music with the staff and filming. You will update your personal insta account of you and Jake that day. Showing the cute Christmas doughnut he got you along with a gift, and both of your microphones. Teasing the fans with the upcoming cover.

It maybe a simple Christmas but it would always be fun with Jake because he also brought in Layla. She will constantly come up to you, begging for body scratch or even treats. Even posting a selfie of you and her on twitter.

“YAH Y/N YOU’RE STEALING MY DOG?”

“UH NO IM NOT? SHE JUST RAN TOWARDS ME FOR TREATS?”

“Istg that dog likes you more than me…”

“Maybe if you start feeding her than she will..”

“I DONT STARVE HER STOP BEING A HATER YOU BOTH😔😔”

okay but MOVING ON. When the cover dropped, IT WENT VIRAL VIRAL. The Christmas lighting, the eye contact between you both was IMMACULATE. Fans felt the warmth after listening to it, like drinking a hot chocolate on a cold winter day. They kept asking for more covers between you both, maybe you guys would do one on New Years🫣

성훈 Sunghoon

Mr takes you to ice skating on Christmas. Both of you are known to be the ice skaters of enhypen. Both extremely good at it so it wouldn’t be a problem. Kept trying to show off your moves to each other. Everyone on the rink jealous that you both could do these amazing tricks. Even though you guys kept going head to head in the rink, obviously he got to take pictures of you so you can post on Instagram.

Man you almost couldn’t land on one of the turns and he zoomed right beside you to catch you. You kinda blushed🤭 anyways. The pictures you guys posted was so cute and majestic, fans was so happy that you guys are hanging out together during Christmas.

“omg the ice prince and princess together on Christmas!!”

“We love to see them back on the ice once again :( “

“We need a performance from them.”

선우 Sunoo

The type to just drag you to every single café and enjoy each others presence while filming for en-log. It was just a soft cute Christmas and you both also exchanged presents. Linking arms as you both went to different phootbooths and thrift stores taking those 90s pictures.

“y/n~~ you look so silly In that hat HAHA!!”

“what do you mean sunoo? I look sexy😝”

“Whatever you say😐”

He loves including you in this sunset photos so when he added you to his little dump, everyone freaked out because that means you guys were hanging out together during Christmas. Very grateful to have each other during this cold season. Just wrapped around warm coats and each others presence.

“BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DUO FOR SO LONG🥹”

“WAR IS OVERRR!! WE GOT OUR AGEYO DUO🤭”

“THEY CHOSE EACH OTHER FOR CHRISTMAS!!”

にしむらりき Nishimura Riki

Since both of you can’t go back to visit your family, you both decided to just go to a shopping trip. Kept buying stuff like non stop. At the end of the day you both have at least 15 bags on you.

“So do you think our manager will say anything about this addiction?"

“y/n I think he has gotten use to it by now..”

“You’re right..”

You both got caught by a fan and they said you both was struggling to hold your bags but you guys looked so cute struggling😭 They even saw you vibing to Christmas songs and you buying Niki hot chocolate because he wanted it so bad #stillachild . Fans was so surprised by this duo because they actually never saw it coming.

“Idk whose influencing who😭”

“Is giving older sister bringing her younger brother on a shopping treat”

“Sometimes I forgot they are both making BANK”

“Y/n struggling while Niki sipping on his chocolate is too unserious💀💀”

No because tell me why your stuff can’t even fit in the car.. you both were suffocated at the back of the car. Your manager laughing at you both and begging him to spare some mercy on you😭 you guys are just too funny.

“Next year same time same amount of stuff?”

“NIKI I DONT THINK I CAN SPEND MORE…”

“WE ARE MAKING MONEY!?”

“True…”

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avenging-fandoms · 1 year

Note

Hey!! I love your writingggg.. can’t get enough of soft loverrrr pedrooooo definitely need moreeee

I was wondering if you take requests. So I have this fantasy of like Pedro and the reader living in a shared house/apartment in New York and they’re in a long term relationship. For the last few months Pedro’s been travelling busy with filming and so they haven’t seen each other for a while, e-reader decides to have a self care day that ends with being sprawled on the bed playing with themselves. Little do they know Pedro’s decided to surprise by coming home early, only to have the reader nowhere to be found; as he walks deeper into the house he hears your moans and panics thinking you might be cheating, only to find the reader sprawled on the bed wearing one of his shirts that still smell like him and moaning his name.

That will be all.

Thank you 😊

yeah.. it's nasty as hell. don't read if you're a minor.

adding this request: request: pedro smut🤭 praise kink🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

“it’s ok” “i know baby, i know” “you’re alright baby” “you’re doing so good” “you did so good sweetie” immediate aftercare when you’re worn out😦🤤

"Today was so rough, Pedrito," You drape your head over the armrest of the couch and sigh. "I wish you were here to hold me until I felt better."

Pedro could hear the pout through the phone. "God I dream of holding you every night, sweetheart. 2 more months and I'm all yours."

You smile and sit up, leaning your elbows on your knees as you look at your nails. "I think I'm gonna take a bath, I always feel better after those."

"A bath, hm? I hope you'll let me see how relaxed you are." His voice was deeper and you bit your lip, leaning back and playing with the strings on your sweatpants.

"Maybe, I'll think about it. I'm mad at you for being away from me for so long."

"I'm away for so long so I can buy the biggest diamond to put on your finger, princesa. Don't start now." You giggle and sigh, shaking your head. "Enjoy your bath, listen to some Prince to think of me, I'll be shooting but I have my phone. I love you honey."

"I love you, Pedro." You make a kiss noise and hang up the phone, heading to the bathroom with the speaker. You set it on the counter and connect your phone, playing your 'Pedro' playlist and sure enough, Prince came on. You turn on the water and sing into the mirror as you wait for it to be ready.

You added salts and some flowers with bubbles, lighting a candle and sliding into the tub. You submerge in the water and your nerves could finally relax. You close your eyes and listen to the song until it ends before opening your eyes again.

You dry your hand and grab your phone, opening your camera and taking a photo of your lips down, with your body barely covered in bubbles with your wet thigh poking out of the water.

Pedro: I may quit my job just to eat you up.

You bite your lip and inhale sharply with a big smile, setting your phone down and closing your eyes, dreaming of everything you could be doing with Pedro if he walked through the door. How you'd touch him, kiss him, make him scream, you were desperate for his touch.

After almost an hour in the bath, you finally brought yourself to get out. You dry off and wrap yourself in your towel, draining the tub and shutting off the speaker.

You head into the bedroom and take a picture in the mirror of you in your towel with your cleavage popping out.

Pedro: Enough Pedro: I'll fly home to you dressed as Joel Miller Pedro: I won't even change

Yn: Is that supposed to be a bad thing?

You grab one of Pedro's shirts and underwear, falling on the bed in your towel. You hold his shirt in your hands and sit up, sliding it over your head and smiling at how it smelled like him. The thoughts of what you'd do with Pedro if he was home came back and your body shivered.

You bit your lip and opened the side table drawer, turning on the vibrator and pressing it to your clit softly as you went to your 'Hidden' album to listen to a video of you and Pedro.

Your moans mixed with Pedro's from the video as you moved the vibrator around your clit slowly. You closed your eyes and imagined Pedro was the one holding the toy, and your moans grew louder.

Pedro smiled as he closed the door to the apartment, locking it behind him and dropping his backpack. He looked around the whole floor for you, but it was dead quiet.

He grabbed the railing and took two steps before stopping dead in his tracks. He heard your beautiful moans coming from the bedroom, and he got a sick feeling.

You would never cheat on him. But then again, he is away for so long.

Pedro took deep breaths as he walked up the stairs slowly, peeking into the crack of the door and his mouth fills with saliva.

Your legs were spread, your left leg bent with your knee towards the air and your right leg straight. His pants got tight as he watch you pleasure yourself with his shirt over your nose, hearing his moans and holding back a whimper as he hears you moaning his name.

Pedro walked in the room and you gasp, scrambling to shut off the video and he placed his knee in between your legs, grabbing the vibrator and pressing it hard against your clit.

"P-Pedro! Fuck- What are you doing here? Fuck." Your nails dug into his biceps as your back arched, holding your breath as he pushed his fingers into you and fucked you fast with the vibrator in his left hand.

You exhale deeply and gasp, moving your hips up and down slowly as you shake while riding out your orgasm. "Oh.. fuuuck.." Your eyes roll back as you grip his shirt, his fingers still fucking you without the vibrator.

“Oh, I know, let it out sweet girl.” Your moans turned to whimpers and he pulls his fingers away. "What a welcome home."

Pedro shut off the vibrator and threw it to the side, kissing you slowly as he moved his hips against yours. "You didn't quit, did you?" You breathe and he laughs, shaking his head.

"They don't need me for 4 weeks, it was unexpected and I'm so grateful I made it home just in time." You smile and his fingers moved again. “Oh, look at you..” His voice was soft and hoarse, bending down and spreading your pussy before moving his tongue against your clit.

Your fingers grip his hair as he hums, shaking his head before pulling away and kissing you messily.

“Take off your fucking pants, Pedro.” You hiss into his mouth and he smiles, standing up with his hands on his hips and closing his lips and smirking.

You had to do it.

You sit up and grab his waist, pushing up his shirt and kissing his happy trail with your bottom lip hitting his waistline. “Enough, princesa.”

“You missed me, P?” You smile and look up at him as you pull his pants and underwear down, drooling at the sight of his hard cock. “I missed you, Pedro.” He stepped out of his pants and you couldn't wait any longer as you watched his dick bounce with every move.

“I missed you so fucking much, honey. So much.” He breathed and his chest moved rapidly as your mouth moved up and down his dick. His head fell back with his hands in your hair, pushing his fingers through it and taking the hair tie off his wrist and put it in your hair. That's what it's always there for, just in case.

"How much, Pedro?" You smile up at him as you move your hand around his tip and he held your chin, making you stand up. Your hand touches his stomach and gasp softly as he hand wraps around your throat.

He pushes his thumb under your chin and makes you look up, lips kissing your neck slowly and tickling your skin with his facial hair. “Like how the moon misses the sun. My heart sang to you every night, mí amor, couldn’t you hear it?”

His voice was a whimper and you were a puddle. You pulled him down on you and kissed him, wrapping your leg loosely around his waist. “I’ve waited 8 months for you, Pedro. Please.”

“I love when you use manners.” He positions himself and slides in slowly, nearly collapsing on top of you as he missed how wonderful you felt.

“Yes, Pedro, harder!” You beg and his hips snap into yours, pushing your knees against your chest and you grip his wrists.

Your eyes roll back and you hear him chuckle as your eyelids shut. “Yes.. oh my god.. look at you. You take my fuckin’ cock so good. Such a good girl.”

He kisses your calf and you smile, dropping your legs and Pedro holds them up. Your ankles sat on his shoulders with his hands holding your thighs, continually fucking his hips fast into yours.

“Pedro.. fuck… Pedro.. Pey…” you gasp, whimpering his name as you grab his shirt frantically in a fist as the pleasure was overbearing. “Right there, fuck!”

He stopped. “Were you going to tell me you were touching yourself to me?” Pedro was out of breath, fists next to yours as he knocks your legs off him.

Your legs fall to the bed, bending them with your knees against his side. He moved his hips slowly, watching himself as he pulls his dick out so just the tip was in, and snapping into your hips before your whine.

“Yes.. Yes, baby, I was going to send you pictures and videos..” You breathe with your hand pressed against his chest.

A light bulb went off in Pedro’s head. He walks away from you and leaves you on the bed, grabbing the vibrator, a tripod and a dildo and made it back to the foot of the bed.

“What the..?”

“You, my sweet, good girl, are going to show me exactly how you touch yourself without me here.” He set up the camera and you stared at him as you sat up on your elbows. “Miller.”

“What?”

“If you feel uncomfortable, yell or scream or shout ‘Miller’ as in Joel Miller and we’ll take a break.” Pedro nods to you and you nod back.

Pedro hands you the toys, and you grew embarrassed. Stage fright? You looked into his eyes once and that was it.

Pedro started recording and you laid down slowly with your eyes locked on his, moaning as you push the dildo inside of yourself.

“Shit..” You breathe as you pump it in and out of you, Pedro stroking himself as he watched your every move.

“Vibrator.”

“Pedro.. I-I can’t-“

“Now.”

Buzzing filled your ears and you shiver with a moan as you press the toy against your sensitive clit.

“Good girl.. look at you. Spread your legs more.. mmhmm.. just like that..” He started to pant and put his hands on his hips as he caught his breathe.

Your moans hummed in his ears as he watched you fuck yourself. “Please.. Pedro I need you, not the toy.”

“Don’t stop. I didn’t tell you to stop.” His eyes burned holes into your pupils and you gulp. “Keep going. You’re doing so good, so beautiful.”

Pedro sat next to you and moved his finger tips up and down your inner thigh as you continue to fuck yourself, his hand slowly replacing yours on the dildo.

His hand moved quickly, pounding deeply into you and you gasp, screaming his name as you reach your climax.

Pedro ripped the toy away and you gasp while dropping the vibrator, his body in between your legs as he fucked you again. Your fingers gripped his hair tightly and you bite his ear, whimpering his name in his ear.

“Please Pedro, I need to cum so bad, please.” You beg and he smiles, kissing you deeply as he rubs your clit.

You nearly rip a hole in his shirt as you scream his name, orgasming around him. He grunts and curses your name, huffing as he spills his seed into you.

You close your eyes and Pedro lays on his side next to you, his finger tracing your features. “You did so good, mi amor. I’m so proud of you.” He kissed your shoulder and you hum with a smile, turning your head towards him and he kisses your nose.

“I was so lonely without you, Pedro.” You whisper and he pouts, kissing your lips softly as well as your jaw.

“I know, mi hermosa. But I’m here for 4 weeks, and we can spend all those days in this bed.” He whispers and you look at him, kissing him a few times before tapping his chest.

“But first.. a shower and we wash these sheets.” Pedro laughs and you head into the bathroom.

“Welcome home.” Pedro mumbled to himself with a smile as he rolls up the covers.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal blurbs #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #smut #rpf #real person fiction

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ghosts-bandwagon · 1 year

Text

I can’t get this idea out of my head so here’s the boys with a musical s/o:

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He loves watching you enjoy your music, seeing you bob your head, sway your hips, or bounce your leg to the rhythm of the song, he loved it all

Loves it when you introduce him to new music and holds your recommendations in high regards, he’ll give every song/band/album a good listen and give an honest critique

I personally headcanon him as a lo-fi, ambient deep house fan, maybe even enjoys movie soundtracks, just instrumentals overall (sometimes it’s a little distracting trying to focus on the lyrics)

If you have a habit of humming or singing a particular verse over and over (like I do), chances are he’ll be quietly humming that same tune later on

“Didn’t take you for the musical type, LT”

“Shut it, Johnny”

John Price:

He loves watching you dance but he’s the type to come up behind you and sway with you, head perched on top of yours

I take him as an 80s fan; Tears for Fears, A-Ha, Hall & Oates, Kate Bush (he’s def a Kate Bush fan and you can’t convince me otherwise) that kind of vibe

He’s a bit set in his tastes so he’ll be a bit reluctant to take on new music but he’ll still give your recommendations a chance, especially if you’re keeping his existing musical taste in mind when you do

My man belts out his favorite songs in the car and he absolutely melts when you join in, his cheeks sore from how hard he’s smiling, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

100% dancing with you in the kitchen, picking you up, spinning you around, you’re way off rhythm but you couldn’t care less with how breathlessly you’re laughing

I can definitely see him vibing to grunge rock, punk, maybe even some pub rock. If it’s got a kicking drum beat, fuck yeah. Loves that shit.

Always excited for new music recommendations, even if it’s not something he’d typically vibe with it he’s still eager to give it a chance, just for you

If you’ve got a song stuck in your head, then it’s stuck in his head too. He’s humming it on base, singing it off key in the showers, even so far as humming it quietly to himself when he’s away on a mission and he’s on watch for the night. It helps him feel closer to you.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

Definitely has a playlist for you, for himself, for the both of you, for hanging out together, for working out together, cooking together, my man has all the bases covered

I feel like your messages to one another include a lot of songs, links to Spotify playlists, music videos, critiques on recommendations

As far as musical taste goes, I feel like he likes a little bit of everything with an inclination to pop and neo-soul (you should give that group a listen, it’s such a vibe tbh)

Loves your recommendations and, like Ghost, he takes them very seriously, it’s always a thrill to see a song you told him about pop up in one of his playlists

I feel like he’s got a beautiful voice, if there’s a particular song you like that helps you relax, I 100% feel that he’d be humming that song to help you sleep, his arms around you, fingers running through your hair

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gracies-baby · 3 months

Note

Could you write a friends to lovers with Gracie? I would read anything! Thank you! 💕

Of course I can! I’m so sorry for the long wait and I hope you enjoy!

Movie Night Confession

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

——————————————————————————

"What movie are we watching tonight?" Audrey asks her best friend as Gracie walks around the kitchen getting the snacks ready as she and Abby sit in the living room.

"I dunno. Whatever Y/n wants to watch" Gracie replies as she walks back to her couch, snacks in hand.

"C'mon, she's just gonna wanna watch twilight again. I love it but there's only so many times I can watch that movie" Abby whines as her cousin sits next to her.

"Yeah Gracie, there are other ways to show her you love her than letting her choose the movie all the time y'know. One of them being telling her" Audrey speaks while stealing some snacks from her friend.

"I'm not telling her anything. She doesn't need to know"

"Well she's gonna know when the album comes out. I mean, come on, who else would you have written the blue about? She's gonna know it's about her"

"You guys don't get it. If I tell her, everything would be different. Our whole dynamic would change and I don't think I can handle that" Gracie rambles before she's cut off by Abby.

"Gracie, we know you have this fear of commitment but Y/n's so good for you. And she's completely in love with you, everyone can see it"

"Y/n is not in love with me. We're friends. Nothing more" Gracie corrects before they hear a knock at the door.

"That's her. You guys will not repeat a word of this to her. I mean it" She answers the door only for Weenie to jump at the girl on the other side.

"Hi Weenie! I missed you too!" Y/n says with a soft laugh that causes Gracie's cheeks to turn pink.

"You know who else I missed? Your owner! Hi Gracie" She says as she turns towards the taller girl, enveloping her in a hug.

"I missed you too" The brunette whispers as she pulls the shorter girl closer to her, relishing in the moment.

"So.. are we gonna watch twilight tonight?" Y/n asks with a wide grin as she pulls away from the hug.

"Yeah, obviously. Everything's already setup" Gracie replies with a smile reserved just for Y/n.

"Great! I just need to get a drink and then I'll be right there!" Y/n replies as Gracie walks back to the living room.

"Did you just smell her hair?" Abby questions with a laugh.

"What? No!" Gracie's face turns bright red at the accusation.

"Dude, you totally did! You're down bad!"

"Shut up!" Gracie exclaims as the shorter girl walks into the room, giving the group an odd look.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"No, nothing at all! Ready to start?" Gracie replies as the girl takes a seat next to her. Gracie presses play on the remote as Y/n cuddles into her side. She feels Abby and Audrey smirk at each other as she wraps her arm around Y/n, pulling her closer.

When the movie ends, Abby and Audrey are asleep while Y/n and Gracie are still cuddled up, watching the credits.

"Gracie? What are we?" Y/n asks suddenly as she looks up at the brunette.

"Huh? What do you mean? We're friends" Gracie chuckles in response.

"But we could be more. I don't want to be just friends with you. And I think you want more too" Gracie stays silent as she looks at the girl in shock.

"Or I'm just totally reading this all wrong. I'm sorry, I-I have to go" Y/n quickly grabs her stuff before rushing to the door.

"Y/n wait!" Gracie grabs the girls wrist as she reaches the door.

"No, I can't be here right now-" the shorter girl is cut off when she feels the brunettes lips gently push against her own. Y/n closes her eyes and wraps her arms around the taller girls neck, pulling her closer as Gracie's arms wrap around her waist.

"I’ve been waiting for this for so long” Gracie sighs as she pulls away.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Y/n asks with a big grin.

“I didn’t wanna mess up what we had! I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I would have been with you any way you wanted me”

“Well, I’m waiting” Y/n responds as she looks up at the brunette.

“Y/n, I love you so much. Please be my lover?” Gracie asks, smiling when she hears the girl giggle at her Taylor Swift reference.

“Of course I will! Took you long enough” Y/n replies as she wraps Gracie up in another hug, wide grins on both their faces.

“Fucking finally! Can someone else start picking movies now?” Abby teases as she and Audrey watch the scene in front of them with wide smirks.

#taylor swift x reader #gracie abrams #gracie abrams x reader #taylor swift #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader #kate bishop x reader #fluff

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annasfantasies · 2 months

Text

Sugar

/alex turner x fem!reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

Credits to the authors of the photos

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

PART TWO

Pairing: the car!alex turner x fem!reader

Summery: cute evening with sugar daddy Al

Warnings: nothing just fluff (kissing, fem nicknames), age gap

Word count: 1469

ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

I was sitting in a corner of our couch, baby pink fluffy blanket around my shoulders and back, knees slightly pulled to my chest with a book pressed against my thighs, a smile on my face and mug of hot chocolate with small white and pink marshmallows on a small coffee table that was next to the couch.

I giggled at the characters, they were arguing about something stupid again. I turned the page but my peaceful evening was interrupted by someone opening the front door.

I quickly turned my head to my right to see my favourite brunette walk into our hallway. I shut the book, threw it on the couch and jumped up. The blanket fell down from my body but I didn't care and ran into the hallway.

"Alex!" I shouted out, he turned to me and closed the front door before extending his arms and grinning at me.

I jumped into his arms, he wrapped them around me; one on my back and the other one just below my ass. I trapped him with my lags around his waists and arms around his neck and hid my face into the crook of his neck. I squeezed his body tightly, releasing a sight, finally having him in my arms.

"Hi baby." his slightly raspy voice rang out; I shivered both because of him but also because of the cold air.

We stood there for at least a minute meanwhile he stroked my back and head, humming soft melody.

I hummed and inhaled his scent; cigarette smell slightly masked with his cologne.

He turned his head and whispered into my hair. "I'm gonna put you down, yeah?" I shook my head and mumbled a quiet 'no'.

He chuckled and stroked my hair. "I'm gonna cuddle you right after I change, yeah?" He asked again and kissed my head.

I sighed and pulled away to look into his eyes. "I want a kiss first." I fluttered my eyelashes and pouted, giving him my best puppy eyes.

Alex moved his hand to my cheek and caressed the flushed skin with his thumb, I leaned into him. "Quick one though."

I nodded eagerly, he smirked and leaned down. Our noses touched and when I wanted to close the gap between us he pulled away. "Hey-" He cut me off by smashing his lips against mine.

It was sweet, full of love and eagerness.

But it didn’t last as long as I wanted, Alex pulled away, kissed the tip of my nose and put me down. I unwrapped my armes from around him, still pouting. He raised his eyebrows at my neediness making me roll my eyes.

"Go change and then come here. I have a surprise for you." I winked and left him standing in the hallway. On my way to the couch I took the blanket from floor. While I was settling into my spot on the couch again I could hear the stairs squeak meaning Alex went upstairs.

I covered myself with the blanket again and closed my eyes, waiting for my boyfriend.

After few minutes he came down. "Hi" I grinned at him from my position and stretched out my arms as an invitation for him. He smiled down at me and kneeled between my legs. "I want my cuddles."

He shook his head while grinning. "Yeah, I know." And with that he was finally in my arms; his head on my chest, my legs around his waist and my hands in his hair. "I missed you." I whispered and could feel his body relaxing. He is like a kitten.

I placed soft kiss on his head and closed my eyes again, enjoying our moment of peace. "I missed you too, handsome." I continued to massage his scalp making him hum in satisfaction. He’s been working on the up coming album so hard lately. Always getting up early and coming home late. I’m worried about him and his health, it’s not good not having enough sleep. But he always leaves notes on my nightstand and calls during the day.

"What did you do today?" He whispered agains my skin as he snuggled into me even more.

I twisted a lock around my finger before brushing through the hair. I thought back to my day, I was home whole day as usual because I don't work. It's not that I don't want to, it's that Alex always tells me I don't need to. He earns enough money to support us both and even more people.

"Like always," I sighed and moved my hands to his back. I ran my fingers along him and then started drawing random shapes. "Cleaned the house a little bit, ate the leftovers from yesterday diner for lunch, baked you a surprise and before you came I was reading the book I told you about the other day."

His head immediately jumped up from its hiding spot at the mention of my baking. He absolutely loves anything I bake. Since we started dating he gained a little bit of weight, I love it so much.

His eyes were shining with excitement and curiosity. "What did you bake?" He exclaimed and grinned at me hopefully. He looked like a puppy with his head slightly tilted to his right and the glint curiosity in his honey eyes.

I gave him quick kiss on his nose before stoking his cheek, the stubble scratching my palm a little bit. "Heart shaped strawberry cookies." I said softly and couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face.

He raised his eyebrow and bit his bottom lip. I looked at him wondering what was he thinking about but before I could say anything he got up from the couch and extended his arm in my direction. He made a grabby hand and said. "come on, I wanna taste them." I got up and took his rough hand in mine, he immediately pulled me up to my feet. “You’re taking too long, love.” He rolled his eyes while groaning.

I opened my mouth to argue but before I could he turned and dragged me to our kitchen.

He looked around the room, his eyes researching the room for the cookies. “Where are they?”

I chuckled at his desperation and squeezed his hand before releasing it. “In the fridge, love.” I turned on my heel and headed to the object. Alex followed me like a lost puppy.

I opened it and took the plate with cookies. He immediately took it from me and put on the counter next to us. “They look amazing, darling.” He took one to inspect it before taking a bite. His eyes widened as he swallowed. “And taste even better.”

I grinned wildly at him. “Really?” He nodded and ate another one.

“So good.” He looked at me with a soft smile. “You’re really good baker, sweetheart.” He pulled me closer to his body by my waist, I placed my hands on his chest.

“Thank you.” I looked him in the eyes and played with the chest hair that was peeking out from his light brown sweater. Swirling it around my index finger. My cheeks burning because of the blush and hurting from the smiling.

“My girl’s blushing?” He smirked and tilted his head. I looked away to my fingers trying to hide myself but out of nowhere he picked me up.

“Alex? What are-“ I grabbed onto his shoulders.

He cut me off by pressing his finger to my mouth and shushed me. I looked at him puzzled, eyebrows raised but I wrapped my legs round him to bring him even closer.

He stared at me like he was observing me. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe you’re mine, sugar.” He smiled at me softly, his hand slid to my cheek. His rough fingers caressing me. This all made me blush even deeper.

He moved closer to my face and I mirrored his movements. Our noses bumped into each other’s causing me to giggle and Al to chuckle. This time I was the one to close the little distance between us.

My rose pink lips touched his, a firework erupted in my stomach. I moved my hands to his face, kissing him even harder. We didn’t pull from each other until we ran out of air.

Our foreheads resting against the other, trying to catch a breath and our lips starting to get swollen.

“I love you, sugar. My love.” He broke the silence. I opened my eyes to find him already watching me.

“I love you too.” I gave him my smile before he took me from the counter and headed to the stairs in the hallway. “Where are we going?”

He smacked my ass before rubbing it slowly. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you all day, darling.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・

A/N: IM SO SORRY I TOOK ME SO LONG😭 I lost the motivation when I posted the thing about which fanfic should I post first🙃

IF YOU FIND ANY MISTAKES PLEASE LET ME KNOW‼️ don’t forget to reblog it leave a comment, thanksss💗

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maxislvt · 1 year

Text

Send You My Love On A Wire

Summary: Music had always been a big part of Wanda's life. Her parents loved music and they had passed that love down to her. She would've never thought that loving music would mean music would give her love back

Warnings: making out, a lot of cock blocking, smut, fingering, brief oral

A/N: The first half of this was in my drafts since the beginning of summer and I completely forgot about it despite the fact I never shut up about this concept. Anyways, it's finally here!!! Hope y'all enjoy her

Wanda loved concerts. The loud music, the cheering from fans, and the adrenaline rush came with every set. It was addictive. Her first concert was fresh in her mind. She was only eight years old at the time. Armed only with her favorite stuffed animal and bright red earplugs, she entered the world of music for the very first time. She had spent ample time in her parent's studio, but the concert was an experience like no other. The bright lights, people dancing, and being safely above it all while perched on her father's shoulders. Music had become Wanda's lifeline that day. It had only taken a few more years for her to throw herself into the industry entirely.

Soon, she was the one dancing and singing on stage. It was terrifying at first. Music was the first major life choice she made without her brother. Where she had fallen in love with bass guitars and layered choruses, Pietro fell in love with scene heading and camera angles. Their support for each other never faltered, but the fear was almost unshakable. It wasn't until she stepped on stage that her wings truly spread. Soon she was selling out stadiums in mere minutes and singing her out.

Of course, she was still herself. A little kid that loved music and the people that made it. Wanda still had a few celebrity crushes she couldn't let go of. Most were much older and married, but one, in particular, stood out.

The Thunderbolts was a group that popped up about a year before Wanda had started hers. They were a lot edgier and further on the alternative spectrum than what Wanda usually listened to, but she enjoyed their music nonetheless. Loud, exciting, and aggressive — all things she loved in music. The absolute beauty that was their concept only added to the appeal. Bastardized demigods in one album and humans possessed by unforgiving demons in the next, with the aesthetics to match. All the members put their all into creation, but you just stood out more than anyone. Though you were a guitarist, you'd occasionally take the stage as the main vocalist and would help other groups create choreography as well.

Unfortunately, Wanda could never get close enough to actually to you even if it was just for an autograph or a chance to praise you for working so hard. It was until one of her first real festival performances that she got the chance to meet you. She was apprehensive at first. You were very open about how you took major performances seriously and you were busy getting makeup done or tuning your guitar. Her dear brother, almost equally infatuated with your music, was determined to get an autograph since he couldn't attend the festival.

"Come on," Pietro groaned out as much as he could with a group of women frantically doing his makeup. "I can't be there to get it myself, can you at least try?" For reasons entirely beyond his sister, Petro was convinced all musicians had some secret clique or friendships they refused to tell the world about. "Just use your super good music privileges and get them to sign my shirt! Maybe we'll get a collab out of it!"

Wanda rolled her eyes at her brother's antics. "I've told you before, there is no secret music industry cult! Just catch them at another concern or something." She huffed out. There were a few hours before the start of the show. Maybe he could see you, or at least get her and her brother some new merch from one of the tents outside. "Okay, fine. I'll try, but don't start pouting when there's no signature on it!"

"Yeah," Pietro cheered childishly and gently pumped his fists in the air, careful not to hit the people around him. "I promise I'll make it up to you!"

Wanda chuckled softly before preparing to leave her backstage room. She and her brother were used to sneaking out for the sake of fun and privacy. She coasted through the crowds and stopped by the occasional vendor for snacks or new merch she hadn't seen yet. Her adventures were quickly cut short after she caught up in a line for Thunderbolts merch. Exploring seemed much more enjoyable, but Pietro would kill her if she didn't at least get him a crappy mug with the band's name on it.

"That just doesn't make any sense," said a gruff, familiar voice. "You call my boyfriend Wilson, my best friend Rogers, and my best friend's boyfriend Stark! What sense does it make for me to be ' Buchanan'?"

Wanda brushed it off as a case of her ears being fucked because of the loud noises around her. Maybe it was just a group of friends playing make-believe and telling jokes.

"Because ‘Buchanan’ is a much sexier name than 'Barnes'! Are you happy now, Barnes?" Less gruffly than the first voice but just as passionate about the conversation. “Your boyfriend, best friend, and best friend’s boyfriend have cool last names, and you don’t!”

Okay, no. That way definitely who she thought it was. Bucky and Y/N, members of her favorite band, were standing right behind her. Now was her chance. All she had to do was turn around and say something. Instead, Wanda found herself frantically fixing her clothes and nitpicking at her outfit. After what must have been half an hour, she turned to face you and your bandmate. “Um, hey.” There was an awkward pause as you and Bucky waited for her to continue talking. Wanda had no clue what to say and opted to lift her glasses and give a small smile.

That was all Wanda needed to do before it was your turn to freak out,

“Oh my god,” You whispered in shock, “You’re the Scarlet Witch!” You excitedly bounce on your heels while using your thumb and pointer finger to mimic the shape of the iconic crown. “I am such a big fan- uh, sorry if I’m being too loud,” Your odd ramblings would’ve continued had your friend not been kind enough to elbow you in your side. There was no telling how red your face had gotten within a few minutes, but you were sure it embarrassed you. It was like your brain had short-circuited. “Um, did you need something?” Your hand nervously ran down the side of your jeans.

Wanda couldn’t help but smile at you. You looked good on stage, but your awkwardness was unexpected. Not once did she ever think she’d see the lead guitarist of Thunderbolts would be blushing and tripping over their words — especially not because of her. “Oh yeah! If you guys aren’t too busy, I’d love it if you guys could sign some stuff for my brother. I’ll pay for you guys’ food as payback or sign some stuff back.”

“Deal! On the signing stuff, too. We already borrowed our manager’s debit card.” A mischievous grin crossed your face as you flashed the shiny metal card at Wanda. The ability to play cool and smooth talk people were usually something better suited for Bucky or Yelena. Today though, it seemed it was yours. “We can meet up at our backstage room. Y’know, so we don’t get trampled.”

“Sounds great, but order fast because people are pointing, and I’m hungry,” Bucky said. He never thought being caught up in such tension could be so draining.

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Wanda never expected a chance encounter to change her life so much. Having a record with your signature on it was quickly dwarfed by several things. To start, knowing you liked her music as well sent her over the moon. The only thing better than that was being your friend. You invited her to hang out at award shows and even gave her VIP seats at your concerts.

Her favorite moments were the more private between the two of you. When you would call her during late nights at your studio or just to catch up after being busy. Wanda was sure your other friends got similar treatment. That didn't make it any less special. Video calls were even better. It was a privilege to watch you effortlessly glide across the floor of the studio or be there to help you write a song lyric or two. It made Wanda feel special.

Touring made that difficult though. Moving around non-stop and constantly performing meant there was little time for the two of you to actually talk. Being the absolute sweetheart you were, you made an effort to send at least one super-long voice message about your days. Endless rants about Bucky absolutely devouring everything in sight, Ava and Yelena boldly and heated debates about abstract concepts you hadn't a clue about, and whatever else you come out of your head.

Unfortunately, one was unreasonably short. It was the last day of your tour, surely you'd have something to go on about. However, it seemed like anything noteworthy that day was somehow packed into a five-minute voice message. Despite her disappointment, she let it play.

"Hi, Wands," Your words slurred out excitedly. Shuffling and the sound of glass clinking were picked up by the speaker. "I just wanted to tell you how much I love you," The slurring continued, "and I mean really love you." Wind seemingly picked up out of nowhere as you snatched your phone and lay down on the ground. "You're so super pretty and super smart and so super nice! Like a super package!" Most of anything after that was a disjointed statement about Wanda's never-ending beauty and super cool and totally awesome music. A fit of giggles would cut through your ramblings every few minutes, but that didn't stop you. "I really want to be your partner….Wait no, I want you to be my girlfriend. I can be your girlfriend or your boyfriend, I can also be both! I'm super cool with either." You laughed at the thought. "I don't care what I am, I just wanna be it with you. Like, romantically."

Wanda was shocked. Her heart hammered in her ears and her face had gone beet red. Was this a confession she could take seriously? Probably not, but you sounded absolutely adorable and she downloaded it regardless of its validity. In the time it had taken her to formulate a response, you had already sent her another voice message.

"L is for the way you look…like my girlfriend!" The off-key and horribly unstable pitch didn't stop you from professing your love. Despite your obvious intoxication, you serenaded Wanda with the addition of a piano. "V is for very very, uh, extra pretty because that's what you are! Wait no, I missed the O…" The piano suddenly stopped and you hummed. "Oh right! O is for the only one I see- that one's an alliteration!" Your playing picked back up, this time much slower and less on the beat. "Um, E is…I don't remember what E is for — hey! Give it back I wasn't done talking to heeer!"

A struggle could be heard from the phone and for a second there was only silence. You were clearly outnumbered. The only thing that stopped Wanda from worrying was the familiar Russian accent that replaced your voice.

"Ah, sorry Wanda Maximoff. Bucky bet that they couldn't out-drink my dad and you know the both of them are sore losers. Hope you have a nice night."

With that, Wanda was left with her thoughts. It was probably best to just ignore it until you were sober enough to talk about it. You were a prideful person and would probably be very embarrassed in the morning, but there was no way she'd pass up the opportunity to confess. She took a deep breath and pressed the voice record button. "Hi sweetheart," She said in a sickeningly sweet voice knowing it would make you squirm. "I would just love for you to be my partner! I'll call you whatever you want to be called, but don't worry about that until you get home, okay? Just drink a lot of water for me and worry about everything else later. I hope you have a safe trip home, I love you!"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

You didn't have much time to yourself the next morning or most of the evening. Packing and flying home took all of forever, unpacking seemed to take longer than packing itself, and all you wanted to do was sleep. All that meant it was around 10:30 at night when you had finally checked your phone and listened to Wanda's message. The words filled your head and you could stare at your phone. You attempted to formulate a text in response. Do you apologize for not answering first or do you address the confession first? What if she was just joking?

Your fingers frantically started typing and stopped suddenly when you noticed Wanda typing as well. Then Wanda stopped immediately after you did, only to start again. The cycle continued two more times and only stopped because Wanda got irritated and decided to call you instead.

You answered despite your nervousness. "Uh, hey!" If it weren't for the fact Wanda would reprime you for doing so, you would punch yourself in the face for being so lame. The soft giggle from the other end of the phone was sweet enough to ease the tension in your body. "Um, you're up late."

Wanda giggled again. "I could say the same for you, sweetheart." Her voice was raspy from tiredness. She glanced at the clock on her studio wall and grinned. "Doesn't sound like you took my advice either, why don't you go drink some water before we talk?" It was cruel to boss you around knowing you'd scramble to please her, but it was for your own good. She listened tentatively as you walked from your bedroom to the kitchen and made yourself a glass of water. "So, did you mean it?"

A simple question, but it still made your heart race. You were so desperate to answer that you choked on your in the process. After a brief coughing fit and a few deep breaths, you could speak again. "I really did," You whispered into the phone. You were thankful Wanda couldn't see you at the moment. Though you were sure she'd appreciate your pajama shorts with her iconic crown printed on, you'd never recover from her seeing how flustered she made you. "But I totally understand if you—"

"Then prove it."

"What?"

"Ask me out again now that you're all sobered up."

You paused for a moment, hoping she was just messing with you. When that confirmation never came, you were forced to swallow your pride and confess a second time. "I think you're really pretty and I like you a lot…I would like it if you were my girlfriend and let me take you out on a date sometime soon." Wanda was nowhere in sight but your eyes darted around as if she was.

"I don't get an encore of that lovely song you made for?"

"Now you're just being mean!"

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Being a celebrity in a secret relationship was harder than you thought it'd be. There were only so many times you could get caught alone before the public began to suspect things. Keeping it from your inner circle was even harder. Everyone knew you and Wanda were close, but close couldn't explain all those late nights spent at her studio or the increasing amount of bruises that littered your body.

As if that wasn't hard enough, Wanda seemed to have no concept of secrecy or subtlety. The initial agreement was a month before going public, but that never stopped her from slamming you against every wall she could for a "quick kiss". Of course, it was never just one and they were easily the longest kisses you'd ever had in your life. It didn't matter if you were at a bar or your best friend's party. If she wanted you, she'd take you. Even if that was five minutes before your makeup call.

"Wanda, I have to go," You whimpered before your lover pulled you into another searing kiss. The burn in your lips had already sealed your fate, but Wanda was determined to keep going. Even when your hands had begun desperately tugging at her shirt and she ruined her makeup already, Wanda wanted more from you. "I'll let you do whatever you want when we get home, just let me go for now, please?"

Wanda leaned back and admired her handy work. Her lipsticks had rubbed off on your lips and down to your neck. Your knees had gone completely weak and you were almost out of breath entirely. Even in your desperation to escape her grasp, your eyes pathetically followed her every move. It wouldn't matter if Wanda gave you the freedom you secretly didn't want, you'd fall back into her arms and beg for release anyways. "You'd let me do what I wanted regardless," She said before going back in to make even more of a mess from you. You were wrapped around her fingers and wouldn't do a thing to change that. "I'll let you go in a minute, just be good for me."

You squirmed under Wanda's touch as she began to grope you. "Someone's going to see and I don't wanna get in trouble." Nearly all the conviction in your voice had disappeared and you could barely stand. It wasn't fair at all. "I'll come right back after we perform, but if I'm late for makeup they'll send-"

"Y/n? Oh-"

Your heart nearly popped out of your chest. "Alexei, I swear this isn't what you think it is! We were just..Wanda was…" Your brain flipped through any number of excuses you could come up with to explain yourself, but there just weren't any. A defeated sigh escaped your lips and you prepared for your world to come crashing down.

"This is exactly what you think it is and they'll be back in the dressing room in 2 minutes."

Alexei blankly stared at the both of you. Then he smiled. "You know, when me and Melina first got together we were just as adventurous as you two!" He stretched his arms out for a hug. "There is no reason to be ashamed of your true love for each other! Wherever you two have done, me and Lina have probably done it twice!" His attempts at consulting you never felt to miss the mark by an inch or two, but that was easily the worst yet.

A disgusted groan escaped your mouth as you suddenly sobered up from your producer's ramblings. "Well, that certainly killed my mood. I'll um, see you after my set…if they let me." You quickly ran off before Wanda could you back into her twisted web of lust. You were thankful your bandmates were too focused on getting ready to question your absence. Alexei seemed suspiciously quiet, but anything to keep you from the grilling your friends would give you.

However, with a band as neurologically different as yours, you couldn't escape them for much longer. Even the amazing performance and the adrenaline from engaging with the crowd couldn't save you from the numerous questions and ungodly teasing that looked over your head.

"In front of her dressing room, you couldn't wait long enough to open the door?"

"How long were you gonna keep this from me? I'm your best friend!"

"Did that stupid drunk excuse of a cover really work?? I expected Maximoff to have better standards than that."

You tried your best to keep still as your makeup artist carefully removed the prosthetic horns from your forehead. "I was gonna tell you guys, honest! We just wanted to keep it secret until we were sure about it. Also, it wasn't even my idea to make out, I was tryna get back here in time for the set!" You relaxed once all your makeup was removed. "And yes, the song did work but I'm not exactly proud of that one either."

"Look on the bright side, at least we won't have to deal with their drunk ramblings anymore," Ava said with a dry chuckle. "I think we should be happy, even if Wanda uses you for her demonic witch performances."

"It was one time and she isn't a real witch!"

"Those are just the ones you were sober enough to remember," Antonia said. She was more focused on carefully putting her guitar back into its case. "There was that time you got blackout drunk at the escaping Valentina party and you spent the whole ride mumbling about how cute Wanda's freckles were. Then a month later at Bucky and Sam's engagement party, you wouldn't let anyone play songs that weren't hers and you cried because her voice was so pretty." The girl stopped talking temporarily to put her guitar pics back in the bag the way she liked. "When you two have an engagement party, you do not get to pick the DJ."

"Who says we're having an engagement party?"

"You're going to have one."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Very early into your relationship, you learned that Wanda has a nearly insatiable libido. It was near impossible to keep up with her. She'd spend hours pushing you to your limit and far beyond. Any attempts to give her pleasure in return would land you right back underneath her and start another round. Not even the fear of being caught could curb her lust for you.

"Come on, baby, you look too good not to touch," Wanda whispered as she groped you. Her hands were always on you, but you could always tell when they were about to get adventurous. She knew how to make your knees weak. "Just one time, I promise I'll be quick!" Her fingers danced over your back and towards your belt. Locking you in some random restroom wasn't her ideal location for a quickie, but she couldn't control herself, not when you looked like they at least.

You groaned softly when Wanda licked up the side of your neck. "One is like a million with you," You whispered back as harshly as you could. It wasn't like you would be complaining. There was nothing in the world that felt better than being underneath Wanda while she used you any way she saw fit, but you'd die if you had to do that and immediately be faced with the public. "We can leave early just- fuck, you gotta work with me here, Wands."

"Oh, but if I wait any longer I might not be so nice when we get home," Wanda chuckled darkly. Her hips rolled into yours while she untucked your shirt and raised it. "And you know how whiney you get when I mean. Is that what you want? Do you want me to be mean when we get home?" The smirk on her face proved how much control she had over you. It didn't matter when she got you, she'd win regardless. "Or I can play nice, it's up to you."

Your hips desperately followed hers as she pulled away. "Fine, you can fuck me in the car or something, just not here!" The second the words left your mouth, you regretted it. Wanda pulled you out of the restroom and towards the car without much concern for the people asking where you were going or if you were okay. "Hey, wait- I think I left my jacket!"

Wanda pushed you into the backseat and raised the partition so you two would have some semblance of privacy. "Bucky will get it, just focus on me," She hummed. Her hands went right back to groping you without a care. "Do you know how hard it was to keep my hands to myself? These pants make your ass look amazing, I might not even take them off when we get home." Wanda kept her voice so only you could hear her.

You loved how verbal Wanda was. Having her to talk you through whatever delicious torture kept you grounded. It even made you more confident. "Yeah, must've been real hard because you haven't stopped touching me since we left the house." All your worries began to fade away as Wanda attacked your neck. The only thing you could focus on was the burning feeling between your legs. "I promise I'll be good."

"I know you will, but that doesn't mean I have to rush." Wanda continued to torture you until the car pulled up in your driveway. She barely gave you enough space to get out of the car and she was right back on you once the chauffeur pulled off. It was only a few seconds before she had you pinned against the door."Relax, I won't let anyone else see you," She whispered when she felt you tense up in her grasp.

You relaxed for only a few seconds. Though you had trusted Wanda, she couldn't account for everything. A car could have flown by or maybe a neighbor would suddenly remember to check their mailbox. Unfortunately, you were met with something much worse. The familiar click of a camera was enough for your heart to stop. Your eyes darted over to the perpetrator. Paparazzi. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," You whispered, words laced with venom. Red-hot anger followed through your veins.

Wanda let you push her away, but she followed you into the house. "Fuck, this is my fault. I'll fix it, I swear." She was quick to wrap you up in her arms. Guilty wasn't enough to describe how she felt. The PR and nosiness of her labelmates were the least of her concern. You were so exposed in that photo and god knows how many people were going to see it. Part of her was jealous, but most of her just wanted to go out and rip off that fucker's head. "I promise not to do stuff like that again! I'll call my manager and then my lawyer, and we'll figure out just-"

"We have to go public."

"Excuse me?"

You shrugged. "There's nothing we can do until they post, so we might as well beat them to the punch." By no means were you happy to be interrupted during such an intense moment, but you weren't going to let some rando ruin your relationship. "If you're okay with it, but it's the fastest solution I got."

Wanda thought for a moment. It wasn't fair that you two had to expose your relationship so early. Tabloids and shitty gossip blogs would throw around hundreds of rumors, but she couldn't let them get a head start on that. "Alright, let's do it."

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

It had been around a year since you and Wanda had decided to go public. Though you remained cautious, it seemed one scare was all it took for Wanda to stop caring about what the public thought about your relationship. Your most recent interview together was proof of that.

Hundreds of shows, podcasts, and magazines requested to interview the both of you after the reveal, but most were shady and definitely a waste of time. The biggest concern was people being too focused on your relationship in more inappropriate ways. You were thankful Pepper and Tony had an intense vetting process when it came to who was allowed to schedule Wanda. You were a little upset when that hard work went waste because Wanda aired out her — well your — dirty laundry the second she got the chance to.

"Oh, you wouldn't believe how submissive this one is."

The statement played in your headphones over and over again until you were sure you heard your girlfriend correctly. "Oh, no you don't! You're in the doghouse!" You wiggled away from Wanda when she came up to snuggle you in bed. "After that fiasco, you're lucky I didn't change the locks," You huffed out dramatically. "That didn't even answer their question!"

Wanda frowned, but then she got an idea. "Don't tell me you were embarrassed about that. There was so much more I could've told them." A mischievous smirk spread across her face as she climbed on top of you. Her hand gently tilted your head back and she took the liberty of reclaiming your skin as her. Sharp, hot teeth and gets your soft, cool skin. "Oh, I could've told them all about how weak you get when I kiss your neck."Her hands squeezed your thighs. "Or, how wet you get when I touch you like this."

Your face burned from embarrassment, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop Wanda. "That's not…you wouldn't!" Breathing was near impossible as she invaded your every sense. Her blunt nails dragging down the skin of your stomach were almost enough to send you into overdrive. Being at Wanda's mercy was a pleasure like no other. All the thoughts in your head began to fade away.

Wanda's peppered kisses over your stomach. She nipped at the sensitive skin until deep purple marks began to form. Unfortunately, conscious of the press events you'd have to do later in the week, she made sure not to go too high. "Maybe I should've told them about how much you like it when I leave all these pretty marks on your body. Does that sound better?" She giggled watching you frantically shake your head no. "Are you sure, your boxers seem awfully wet?" She pressed her thumb against the wetness leaking through your underwear. "Do you want me to help?"

"Yes, please," You rushed out. Your hips raised up allowing Wanda to quickly remove the barrier between her and your lower half. The fact you had just gotten out of the shower couldn't even stop you from giving Wanda everything. "I'll do anything, just help, please." You looked and felt pathetic when you begged, but you didn't care. Wanda was all you needed at that moment and you'd risk anything to get her.

"I bet they'd have a field day hearing about all the things I've done to this little hole of yours," Wanda teased as her fingers ran through the wetness leaking from your cunt. Her fingers lightly grazed your clit and pulled away the second your hips began to move. "Maybe I'll talk about how much of a needy whore you are for my fingers." She smiled at the way you whined. She slipped inside of you with ease. That slow, filling rhythm Wanda set was addictive. Sliding all the way in, then dragging them out just as slow.

The vulgar gushing sounds from your pussy filled your ears. "Fuck, Wanda please," You begged. It was a miracle Wanda knew you as well as she did. Her teasing words would never stop her from doing her very best to please you. Three of her fingers stretched you out so easily and assaulted your g spot without relenting. "I'm so close, just don't stop!" One of your hands snaked down to your neglected clit only to immediately be smacked away.

Wanda clicked her tongue. "I'll tell them about how disobedient and needy you are too. You know you're not supposed to touch yourself when I'm playing with you," She hissed. Her fingers pulled out and came down harshly on your clit. "Awe, does it hurt? I bet you like it." The smirk on her face never faded watching you thrash around and beg for her to keep touching you. "Shush, I'll let you cum this time but you have to promise not to touch what's mine."

"I promise, I was just- ah!" All the words in your brain disappeared when Wanda's fingers entered your cunt again. A shiver ran up your spine and you instinctively wrapped your legs around Wanda's waist. "That feels so good. Thank you, thank you so much!" It seemed your ruined orgasm had only aroused you more and you were already about to cum again. Your hips bucked up into Wanda's hand and she could only laugh at you.

"Ah, you're so needy. I don't know what you'd do without me," She giggled before leaning down to lick your clit. Her tongue expertly wrapped around your clit as she began to suck. Pleasing you was almost enough to get her off alone. Your slick dripping down her wrist, your falls clenching around her fingers, and your clit throbbing inside her mouth. It was perfect. You were perfect. "Cum for me, show me how good it feels."

A low groan escaped your lips. Everything was too much, but you still wanted more. "Right there, right there, ah!" In a few seconds, everything stopped. The only thing you could feel was the burning hot pleasure deep within yourself coming out of you and onto Wanda. A never-ending stream of bliss that you couldn't even fully process. "Thank you, thank you so much," You whimpered once your body collapsed back onto the bed.

Wanda peppered kisses over your thighs and lower stomach, those less fierce than the ones before. "You're welcome, but we gotta get you cleaned up again." She smiled at the dopey looks on your face. "I know you're tired, but you know how you get when you're sticky."

You huffed out and wrapped your arms around Wanda's shoulders. "You're doing all the hard work, my legs still feel tingly."

"I'd do anything for you, my dear."

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