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#but they all really liked the band back then and were pretty adamant that i wouldnt and idk it made me feel like i didn't belong

givemefevrr · 11 hours

Text

Fuck Me Like I'm Famous (NSFW)

Pairings: dom!Jay x fem!reader

Warnings: Breeding kink, possessiveness, public sex, Jay is in a band, creampies, fishnet stockings, mirror sex, rough sex, hand kink, pet names (baby, pretty girl, doll, etc.), praise kink (kind of), degrading kink (kind of), dollification, etc...

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Jay's pulse raced with adrenaline as he played the final bars of his guitar solo, the crowd roaring. He glanced over to the side of the stage, catching a glimpse of you, his girlfriend. He couldn't help but notice every detail about you—the way your little black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the fishnet stockings that accentuated your legs, and those contrastingly innocent, cute white lace socks poking out of your Mary Janes shoes. You were a sight he couldn't tear his eyes away from. Your eyes met his, and a soft, proud smile formed on your lips as you watched him perform.

As the first set came to an end, Jay thanked the fans for all the cheers and support. He glanced back over to you, but this type you watched his adam’s apple bob with a gulp, his eyes making slow movement down your body before the crowd’s noise returned his focus to the stage.

He prepared for the next set, picking up his guitar again, the first chords of the next song echoing through the venue. Yet, despite the ocean of fan’s in front of him, Jay's eyes couldn't help but flicker back to you, standing there in your little black dress.

Throughout the entire second set, his gaze kept returning to you like a magnet. The way you leaned against the side of the stage, focused solely on him. With each glance, Jay's control threatened to unravel. The veins on his hands and arms popped out as his grip on his guitar tightened, each note he played serving as a desperate attempt to hold back the hunger consuming him.

And soon, your eyes wandered to his fingers that expertly worked over the strings of his guitar. God, the things you’d love for those fingers to do–

But before you could finish your many fantasies, the second set and the third set had already come to an end. Wow, had you really been staring at Jay’s hands for that long?

Jay’s voice is what ripped you from your thoughts, his “stage voice” what you liked to call it, booming over the speakers, energetic and bright.

“Johnson City, what do you think of the concert so far?” Jay asked, taking his microphone from its stand and pointing it towards the crowd, receiving a series of loud, collective cheers and whistles. Jay chuckled slightly at the response, smirking.

He allows himself to bask in the cheers momentarily before glancing back at you for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. “Alright, well get ready for this next set–it’ll start in a little bit. See you soon, Johnson City!” Jay waves before speeding backstage for intermission.

The loudness of the crowd echoed in his ears as he reached you, taking your hand in his, guiding you close to his body as you walked with him. "You look incredible," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of the concert.

You leaned in closer, the scent of your perfume mingling with the sweat and energy of the stage. "And you, Mr. Rockstar, were amazing up there," you replied, your eyes filled with admiration.

“Yeah?” He smirked down at you, contrasting the dark gaze in his eyes as he backed into his dressing room, pulling you inside and pressing you against the now closed door, locking it. “I’ve been thinking about you since the first set,” he tilts your chin up with his fingers, his other hand tracing the contours of your body, coaxing a giggle out of you before planting a kiss onto your lips.

“Here? Really?” you scold, pushing his chest gently, finding the man amusing. “Can’t survive a couple hours without sex, huh?”

But he didn’t let you move, grabbing your hips roughly, pinning you against the door. “I can’t survive a couple hours without sex? You were practically drooling over my fingers the whole time I was on stage,” he retorted with a hint of arrogance, his knee nudging between your thighs.

You gasp, both surprised at the sensation and the fact that he noticed your staring. “You have to be on stage again in like ten minutes, Jay,” you try to deflect.

“That’s why we’ll be quick, hm?” he cooed seductively before lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you further into the dressing room.

Placing you on top of one of the make up desks, the cool surface of the mirror with its ring of bulbous lights pressed against your back, he immediately leaves hungry kisses in your mouth.

You responded eagerly, arching into the touch of his rough fingertips that traced up your thighs, teasing your fishnets with a playful tug before letting the material snap back against your skin. A moan escaped your lips into the kiss, your hands instinctively reaching to tangle in his hair, but Jay stopped you with a condescending smirk.

“Ah, not the hair, baby. My stylists will get pissed, and I have to be on stage soon, remember?” he reminded you with a slow, teasing tone, his lips trailing down to your neck as his hands moved further up your thighs under your tiny black dress.

He growled softly as he discovered the absence of any undergarments except for the fishnets. “You really planned this out, didn’t you?” he murmured appreciatively, his voice rough.

You smile mischievously, your hands sliding down his body to palm at his clothed dick. “Maybe I did,” you teased.

And Jay lost it–quickly making work of your shoes and little black dress, unhooking the black bralette you wore under, leaving on the fishnet stockings and lacey white socks. “Shit, you look so dolled up like this,” he groaned, his hands cupping your tits, his thumbs teasing your sensitive nipples as he leaned in for another heated kiss.

Grasping your hips again, he pulled you to the edge of the desk, pressing your bare heat against the front of his black jeans, grinding against you, teasingly.

“J-Jay, stop, you’re–– you’re going to get your pants all messy!” you whimpered, concerned for his stage outfit, though your hips still rolled against his.

“Even better,” he rasps onto your mouth before slowing to a stop. “Turn around.”

But before you could move on your own, he deftly maneuvered you so that your stomach was pressed over the surface of the table. Jay’s hands roamed over your exposed back, tracing the curve of your spine with a possessive touch. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, the anticipation building with each passing second.

His hands moved lower, sliding down your hips, his fingertips teasing along your inner thighs, so, so close to where you craved his touch the most. You arched your back, a silent plea for more.

“So wet already,” he murmured, his voice a low coo. “Want me that bad already?”

You bit your lip, unable to contain the moan that escaped as his fingers found their target, tracing the outline of your arousal through the thin fabric of the fishnet stockings. He teased you mercilessly, eliciting desperate whimpers and gasps from you as he circled and stroked. You heard the unzip of his jeans before he suddenly ripped a hole in your stockings.

“Jay,” you whimpered, your voice a breathless plea for more, your body craving his touch, oh so much.

And so Jay wasted no time, his length plunging into your slick heat. The stretch and the suddenness of his entry was a bit painful, but it was so addicting. A moan tore from your lips as he bottomed out, your walls clenching around him instinctively, welcoming him in as if he belonged there, as if you were made to fit him perfectly.

Jay let out a low, guttural groan of satisfactions, the sound reverberating through the room as he began to move, setting a relentless pace that had you whimpering and whining, his hands gripping your sides with a strength that promised bruises.

“You’re so loud, doll,” Jay scoffed, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. “Bet you wish the fans could hear how good I’m fucking you right now.”

You struggled to babble a response back, nodding frantically in compensation for your lack of coherence.

Jay’s grip on you tightened, his thrusts becoming even more fervent as he chased his own release. “Well too fucking bad,” he breathed, his voice possessive. “You’re mine. All mine.”

He leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses onto your back and shoulders, marking you up as he drilled into you. “All mine,” he repeated again like a mantra, each word punctuated by a thrust that left you gasping for air.

Your mind was consumed with nothing but him, his touch, his scent, him filling every corner of your being. It was as if the world outside the dressing room ceased to exist, as if you two were the only ones in the venue, and the fans weren’t screaming just outside.

He leaned back slightly, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he angled his thrusts, hitting that spot inside you that made you drool, so cock dumb that you could barely keep your head up, your vision hazy.

“Look at yourself, baby,” Jay commanded suddenly, gently tilting your head up, urging you to look at yourself in the mirror in front of you. But embarrassment made you close your eyes, hiding from your own gaze.

“Open your eyes,” he commanded again, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided your face to meet your reflection. “That’s it,” he praised, his voice a whisper against your ear as you finally obeyed, meeting your own gaze in the mirror, the glass fogging up with your pants and whines.

“There she is—my pretty girl,” Jay murmured, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection, dark with pure lust as he continued, his movements growing more urgent with each passing second. “Do you see how beautiful you look? How good you take me?"

As your eyes locked with his in the mirror, you could only whimper in response, unable to form coherent words, your body clenching tightly around Jay’s cock, feeling the familiar heat in your tummy build up.

You met him thrust for thrust, rocking backwards onto his cock, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you until it finally snapped, pleasure crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. "S-so good," you managed to gasp out, your body trembling as your walls clenched around his cock tightly in your release.

“You’re so fucking perfect like this,” Jay groaned, his movements becoming sloppier as your orgasm washed over you. “It’s like you’re made for it. Made for me to breed you, fill you up.”

“Mph– please!” you beg, your head spacey, your body still buzzing.

“Hm? Want that? Want me to give you a baby–make you a mommy?”Jay's voice was a deep rumble, his hips rocking against yours as he spoke, teasing you. You nodded eagerly, babbling incoherently, your voice filled with need as you feel his hips stuttering as he emptied himself inside you.

In the aftershocks, you collapsed against the table, Jay still holding you close, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he kissed your temple tenderly, rubbing your tummy, still shallowly pumping his cock in you. The dressing room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, and soon one of Jay’s bandmates were banging on the door.

“Jay, you were supposed to be out five minutes ago, stop fucking and get out on stage!”

Jay grunted in response as he reluctantly pulled out of you, his cum dripping from your used cunt. With a final lingering kiss on your spine, he reluctantly straightened up, his cock still glistening as he hastily adjusted his clothing.

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 9 hours

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Hi! Saw that you were doing requests!

Prompt #1 with Lucifer confessing and wanting to make Adam his Queen like it should have been since the beginning

1. “If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad.”

I sure can anon 😎 Enjoy!

Lucifer was nervous. He didn't do nervous he made others nervous he was the fucking King of Hell for fuck sakes!

But here he was, nerves wracking his body as he waited for Adam down in the lobby. This date had to be perfect, it was THE date, the one that would make or break them.

He was ready to ask Adam to marry him, like how he always said he would since the garden. Lucifer was finally going to make good on his promises.

Adam came down the stairs, he was dressed formal casual, he wasn't much for suits but Lucifer said the place they were going was pretty fancy. He figured he should wear more than just blue jeans and a rock band t-shirt. "Hey." He greeted when he got over to Lucifer.

"Hey yourself." He offered Adam his arm and the sinner took it as they walked through the portal.

They took their seat at their reserved table and looked over the menus. Lucifer swore the ring in his pocket suddenly felt like it weighed 1000lbs.

He wasn't sure what to do if Adam said no. Would they break up? Would they keep dating and things stay the same only slightly awkward? Would they pretend it never happened?

The waiter came and took their orders and left without another word. "So what all were you up to today? I haven't seen you, you weren't hiding from me were you?" Adam asked playfully, as he looked over the rim of his wine glass as he took a drink.

Lucifer had been away all day getting Adam's ring down in Lust. It had taken longer than he thought it would. "What!? No, no, no, no, no, I would never. That's silly what would I be hiding?" Was he sweating? He suddenly felt damp in his suit.

"It's just a joke Luci, relax. If I didn't know better I'd say you were hiding something from me." Adam had noticed his odd behavior all week and it was just so not Lucifer. It only got worse as of today.

"I'm not hiding anything. Promise." Expect maybe the 48 karat black gold ring in my pocket. "How was your day?"

Adam shrugged, "Good I guess. Got a lot done in the garden. It was actually nice." Lucifer had built Adam his own garden at the hotel to help keep him occupied during the day when he didn't have other things going on.

Their food came and they ate for a little while in silence. Lucifer was trying to find the right moment to bring out the ring. "Adam, you know I love you right?"

"Oh my god, what did you do?"

"What? Nothing! Nothing. I just wanted to tell you how much I love and care about you. If you felt want and longing the way I did — the way I still do — I promise you’d be driven fucking mad. I have loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you in the garden and I've always had one regret in life." Lucifer reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box. "I should have done this a long time ago, like I promised I would. Adam, will you become my Queen and marry me?" He opened the ring box to show him the ring inside.

Adam looked wide eyed and surprised. He really hasn't been expecting this to happen. He looked between the ring and Lucifer's hopeful face and swore he fucking melted. "Fuck yes." He put his hand out and Lucifer placed the ring in Adams ring finger.

Lucifer kissed the back of Adam's hand and gazed up at his fiance.

It only took him ten thousand years.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask

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iplayghoul · 9 months

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𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁. 𝗼𝗻𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗻

warnings: mentions of weed, reader is a dealer, black coded reader, strangers hooking up 🤭, squirtinggg, i like the word cock, sum dick in there too. pussy is refered to as a 'she', use of 'ma' and 'mama', p in v, thumb in ass shit, oral (f & m receiving), use of the n word

word count: 2.4k

notes: its ony's birthday! 🎂 ive come out my cocoon to deliver this delish lil smut for yall🤭 please enjoy, i havent written smut full out in a bit so! comments, rbgs wit comments all appreciated mwah

"𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝘂' 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱? 𝗣𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗱𝗿𝘆?" 𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗱. "𝗧𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘁."

"In five minutes? Oh yea', Con' I'mma do 'em up for you, real good. Mhm, you lucky Sash' my girl." Glossy lips smacked as you ended the call with Connie. Tossing your phone on your bed and heading to the small office space in your apartment. Various tools were laid out across the table. Humming a little, your lavender bunny slippers shuffling as you enter, you hook the handles of two pink glittery packets on your acyrlics. You weighed the packets again and checked the information Connie messaged you. According to Connie, his best friend 'Ony' wanted some good strains you were selling, so of course he hits you up to get the packs for his friend.

Your doorbell went off once, hurrying you to hop down the stairs, holding down your braless, pierced tits behind the thin strapped tank you had on. You peeped at who was outside your apartment, staring for a long two seconds at the buff, darkskinned man with a nose piercing and a fade. The white wife-beater paired with a grey hoodie that matched his sweats, ain't do his muscles justice either! Bejewled teeth bite back against your lips, and you swing the door open, slightly pulling your care bear themed shorts down. His lips grabbed your attention immediately.

Actually, you had to take in his presence quick. His bottom lip was a pretty pink and his top lip dark. His hands were big and so was the broadness of his shoulders. He looked a little nervous too. "You Con's boyfren'?" His lips curled a bit, "Fuck did that nigga tell you ma?" Shit. He spoke so softly you could barely hear what he had to say, only the low base of his voice helped you hear him. You bounce onto your other leg, swallowing hard, "'M just teasin', you 'Ony'?" He licked his lips and hummed with a nod, "Yea, 's Onyankopon." Not one for small talk? "Yea, come in n' lemme get it for you." You eye him and try your hardest to make small talk as he puts his hands up on your door frame, you already had to look up to see his face.

The packets were in the pockets of your shorts, really, with free stickers in 'em too! But you were not about to fumble some potentially lethal dick. You gulp feeling the softness of his body brush against yours as he accepts your invite in, the music from your speakers gracing his ears as you follow him to the living room. You pat the couch for him to sit and walk to the half bath, wasting a few seconds to 'get the packets'. With each interaction you became increasingly aware of what you were wearing. You peeped in the mirror and the heart shaped print of your nipple piercings becoming more prominent.

"Ya'know, youn' really talk dat much... or loudly, do you?" You shuffle back into the living room. He rubs above his lips and manspreads, hands moving to rest beneath the band of his sweats. "If I'm bein' deadass, I'ain got much to say, Con' ain't tell me you was cute ma. Ion really ever like raising my voice eitha'." Somehow, your body temperature just kept going up and your eyes kept drifting back to his lips. You plop down onto the couch, "You got a bitch ri-now?" He leans his head back against your couch and your peer at the way his lips purse out, and his adam's apple bobs. He seemingly manspreads wider, his large build making your couch cushions seem tiny. "Nah, why?" "Jus' wonderin'." Your lips began to feel shaky with every word. The entire encounter was like a meaningless dance around the elephant in the room. And fuck, you were gonna' fuck Constance punk ass up when this night was over. "So listen, I can give you the packets now, 'n you can pay me," You toss the packets onto the coffee table, his eyes remain trained on you. "Or, you c'n getcho dick wet." You mumbled, eyes drifting to connect with his.

A sharp inhale and you see the way his eyes open slightly to peak at you. Fat thighs squeezed together as you sat back with your socked feet up on the couch. "Don't that sound good, Onyankopon?" The way his chest rose with his breaths paused for a minute, reveling in hearing your sweet voice utter his name. His hands push further into his sweats, giving his dick a few long strokes before slipping it out his sweats. It was heavy, so heavy that he held it up for you and let it rest on his wife beater, on his belly button. Being the 'pretty dick' fiend you were meant you needed him in your mouth, immediately.

Quickly lurching forward, you press glossy lips to his pretty cock. His dusted pink tip was fat, and as his dick got darker down the shaft so did it get fatter. The nigga was HUNG, and you could mearly slide your tongue around the circumference of his cock head.

"C'mon mama, do watchu wanna do." It was enough incentive for you to swallow his dick down, relishing in the way it squished down your throat as your held your breath. With each stroke that relieved your airway you took a breath, folding your lips in to glide across his cock as globs of spit dribble across the shaft. You slurp and gag a little with each slip of his dick in your mouth, his hips gyrate and buck up. Ony keeps his eyes on you. Frowning as he interlocks his hands behind your neck, stuffing and forcing your face down on his cock. His head drops back against the couch, fucking his dick up into your mouth with heavy groans filling the room, even above the slow beats of your music. You needed him to tear your shit up within the next two seconds before you start to go crazy.

"Fuck, take all dat shit off, ma." Ony grips your jaw as he pulls you off his dick, spit dripping down your chin and lips plumped up. You wobble on your knees to stand up and undress yourself while he shrugs off his hoodie and wife beater. Tattoos decorated his pecs and arms, the dark ink prettily accentuating his melanin. He nods his head to the side, "Lay back right there, pretty." Plump pink lips pout a little but you follow his directions regardless, laying back into the cushions and spreading your legs. "Ain't nun' wrong with puttin' it in dry," you mutter below your breath when his lips connect with your clit. He mumbles something like 'don't piss me off' and his tongue is all over you.

His hands are big enough to grip the entire spread of your thigh, forcing your leg back as he worked his tongue in circles around your clit, sloppily spitting through your folds and caressing your hole with his tongue. He ate it like a starving man, his frowning and groaning into you growing more frequent as he pushes his face deeper. Your nails ghost the back of his neck, feeling the vibrations of his groans while the other played with your nipple. He tilts his head at an angle, flattening his tongue against your clit and you flinch, the electric pleasure shooting through your tummy and he smiles.

"Right there?" He peers up at you just as your eyes started springing tears. He bites down on his lips, and gives your clit a few kisses. You gasp and start pushing on his shoulders, understanding where he was going . Ony, undisturbed, curls his tongue into your clit, sucking and spitting on your cunt and maintaining the angle. Your tummy begins to tighten, clit pulsing with every lick, holding your breath and arching up into him. A sharp smack on your clit forces a cry out of you, "Stop holdin' yo' breath or imma' leave you right here," Fuck. You let out exasperated breaths as you desperately gyrate your hips into his mouth. Your clit, swollen and fat started to feel almost numb, you can't help but slap his shoulders and whine. "Shit, shit, shit— Ony, that's enough." It only edges him on, sucking up your creamy releases and forcing himself impossibly closer to you. You head was already pressed up against the armrest leaving you no escape, eyes rolling in different directions and mouth agape. Ony's mouth is latched onto you, bouncing your entire body into the couch cushions. You could only moan 'yes, yes, yes' with each rocking of your clit in his mouth.

Your toes curl and you're pushing his head into your pussy, chasing a bigger release than the one you just had. "Fuck, yeah, eat it just like that, baby," Your grip on everything begins to loosen and your lower body feels like static; milky slick squirts out of you as your body begins to relax and you hold Onyankopon's head in place as he drinks it all up. "You're fucking insane," You huff out at him when he lifts his head up to look at you, your release dripping off his nose and chin. "Watchu' said? Put dat shit in dry?" he rasped. "Turn over and put yo leg up on the seat." You give a start and look at him, feeling a mess.

"You not gon' let me recover, bitch?" He licks his lips and sits up on his knees, grabbing your ass like he was preparing to put you in position if you didn't do it. Consistently maintaining eye contact. "Don't call me no bitch," You hear him say low, "And turn the fuck over," He gives your ass a hard shove. You flop over onto your stomach, arching your ass up for some backshots, before sitting up to pull your right leg from out under you and kicking it up onto the top of the couch. You feel your inner thigh burn from the near split position, gripping onto the arm of the couch. Ony's fingers toy with your cunt and spreads you about the length of his dick, pumping it a few times before moulding circles around your clit with his tip: movements calculated. "Shit," You mumble softly, noticing the ever-increasing slip of your pussy. He slows the teasing of your clit, a large hand gripping your ass and pushing you down simultaneously. He lets his tip catch your sopping entrance, pushing in slightly and ignoring your whines as he basks in the wetness pressinh on his tip. "Ony stop playin' 'n put that shit in, God." He pulses his tip back and forth, slowly sinking deeper but not deep enough for you to even get two inches of his cock.

He whispers something lowly and you're unable to hear him. Just as you opened your mouth to ask 'Watchu sayin' nigga?', so did it hang open when he stuffed his full length into you swiftly. "Holy fuck," Was all you could force out of your mouth, his girth pushing against your walls as he sit in it. His hand spreads your ass and you feel him sink his thumb into your ass, his grip on you tightening. Your eyes already start rolling back into your head with the slight movements of his dick in you while he shifts to adjust his knees on the couch. You grip the couch hard and press your head against it when he starts using your ass to gain leverage, momentum.

"Think you c'n take sum fat dick?" Onyankopon mutters above you, the hand with his thumb in your ass slowly dragging you off his cock and back. "Yeah, yeah, gimme— gimme whatever you want, baby." You swallow, attempting to comprehend his question amidst the aching of your pussy that hungrily slobbered all over his dick. Maintaining the slow drag, he reaches down with his other hand to grip your neck, giving you a few tugs to manhandle you into a comfortable groove; before finally hammering his hips into your ass.

Ony groans and curses low while you struggle to hold onto the couch, his strong arms on your neck, forcing your ass back onto him. "Fuck! fuck— fuuuck, Ony," You let out a sob with each stroke he put on you, feeling incredibly full with just his thumb and girth combined. Your pussy was spread and aching around him, slippery and loud and nasty. "Fuck— she talkin' to me?" Onyankopon grins above you and only snaps his hips down into your ass harder, letting it sting. Your pussy was dripping, strings of slick falling from your cunt onto the couch and dripping down to tickle your sensitive clit with each stroke.

You were a mess, with every curse and 'ah!' came drool spilling from your mouth, slobbering about the couch and spreading it down to your fattened nipples. Your hand toyed with the piercing and you only felt more full, your tummy swelling more with each invasion of his dick against your walls. "C'mon take it, take it," Ony removes his hand from your neck to slap your ass hard, forcing his other thumb deeper in you, moving the other to play with your clit. White, foamy, release plops down like whipped cream onto his fingers as he rapidly and roughly guided them around your swollen clit. The same realese making his cock hot and melting in your pretty pussy, coating his every inch and forcing low moans out of him. "Ain't this watchu wanted? My dick wet as fuuuck, mama," You moan back some unintelligible response, you could barely hear the words coming out his mouth. Your entire being was totally focused on the way you began to tremble and squirt small spurts of cum gliding down your legs.

Onyankopon holds you still, hiking one of his legs up and fucking into you unimaginably deeper, sloppier, nastier. You squeal and grab his hand that's at your clit, slapping his arm and biting the softness of the couch's limb while your cry and whine. Ony ignores your attempts to tap out amidst the convulsing of your legs and hard quivering of your body. Your head was pounding now and you go completely blank for a split second, your full releases forcing itself out of you for the second time without your consent, in thick streams.

Your gasps and desperate as you attempt to get yourself together, all while Onyankopon can't help but nut deep in you before pulling out and slapping your clit a few final times with his dick. Your body refuses to move from the complicated position, Ony silently pulls your leg off the seat and carefully moves you onto your back. He wipes some tears off your fucked out face, hesitating before getting up and digging in your fridge for water before returning with two bottles. He opens one for you, feeding you the cold comfort that soothes your thoat while you hold onto his wrist.

"You straight?" He asks before leaning to dig in the pockets of his sweats and pull out a bit if cash. "Mhm," was all you could muster, watching him throw the money on the table before grabbing his phone. "Shit," He half grumbles with a soft chuckle before showing you the bright screen. Six missed calls from Connie.

#onyankopon x reader #onyankopon smut #onyankopon #aot connie #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x black reader #attack on titan #onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon #onyankopon snk #onyankopon x black reader #﹒﹒﹒💗 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦: 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 💌 𓂃 !

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jadeddangel · 2 months

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I saw that u write poly stuff and my mind was inspired, maybe u could write something where adam and lute comfort reader because something happened and even a bit suggestive if u want:))

EEEE IM SO HAPPY I INSPIRED YOU!!

Lute x reader x Adam

"It's gonna be ok, beautiful"

Warnings: None

Art isn't mine and belongs to @.D4gm4rs on twt

The bed was cold even though it seemed like Adam and lute had left hours ago ,although it had only been 30 minutes. It was your day off.. you had finally gotten a break from everything. You were tired of souls coming to you for help for all these things that you couldn't possibly help with. The worst part of all, though was there was this angel that wouldn't leave you alone, he had been pretty much stalking you. He was trying to get you to go on dates to try and get you to hang out with him.

You were hesitant to tell Adam and lute scared Adam would over react and that lute wouldn't leave your side; you can imagine how surprised you were when they just gave you some love and left for work. And so here you were, alone, still laying in bed, you just wanted to sleep and stay here forever..

You must've fallen asleep cause when you woke up it was almost dark. With a sigh, you got up, tugging out of the bedroom and going to the kitchen to get dinner ready. You paused seeing that there was already a bag of food on the counter.. it was your favorite, and it even had your favorite drink.. you heard the tv running in the living room. You smiled and walked to the living room seeing 2 familiar tuffs of brown and white grey hair. You reached over and covered Adam's eyes from behind him. "Guess who?" You snickered a bit. Adam hummed a bit. "Is itttt my pretty girl?" Adam guessed, tilting his head up towards the ceiling so you could see his smile. You giggled and leaned down, giving him a kiss. "mhm.." You hummed against his hips. You pulled away brushing his hair back out of his face, you tilted your head to face lute, "there's my pretty girl" you mused leaning closer to her and giving her an Eskimo kiss before kissing her forehead. Lute smiled a bit. "Hi there, baby.. how was your day?" She asked sweetly. You climbed over the back of the couch to plop in between them. "It was as good as it could get with me sleeping all day" you laughed a bit. Lute played with your hair absent-mindedly while Adam tugged at the baggy pajama pants you were wearing. "You know I really like this color on you but maybe we should just take it off hm?" Adam hummed slowly slithering his hands up your thighs til he was holding onto the waist band of the pants. "Adam I will literally never make you ribs again if you take those off" you said curtly opening your eyes a bit to give him a glare. Adam huffed and pulled his hands away, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting like a toddler. You sighed a bit but decided not to deal with it, "Adam will you get the bag of food? Please? I'll give you head in the morning I promise" you bribed knowing he was going to fight you if you didn't offer. Before you could even finish the word head Adam was already up and grabbing the bag excitedly, "deal!", Adam even went the extra fucking mile and started making your plate for you while watching the movie that was barely getting any attention.

The night was relaxing, you and lute took a bath together cause Adam couldn't be trusted not to start something. Then it was onto dessert, another movie and cuddles. As promised in the morning before work you gave Adam head before he left. And you know what maybe it was good luck cause that day wasn't half bad.

You didnt know what happened(Adam and lute beat the shit out of the guy and talked to your boss about easing up on you) but that didn't matter and as long as everything kept going well it was always gonna be a good day.

#hazbin hotel adam #x reader #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin comfort #hazbin hotel comfort #adam x reader x lute #lute x reader x adam #adam x lute #comfort #x reader fluff #x reader comfort #jaded works🪶

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bigbadvoxbox · 2 months

Note

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, he takes Lucifer's wife so he can get back at Lucifer I love your posts

THANKS ANON

warnings: previous lucifer x reader. unprotected sex (don't do this). degradation if you squint? like a brief mix of both degradation and praise.

- Lucifer's pretty ex-wife, almost looking more like an angel than a demon, which was one thing that Adam found pretty appealing. The attractive appearance, with the subtle demonic features? Badass. He was into it.

- Puts his plan into action. He knows usually he can get any girl he wants, he's fucking Adam, but you're gonna be special. You were Lucifer's bitch (affectionately), so he wants to make this BIG.

- He plays it real cool. Lucifer almost hands you over himself, sending you to a meeting Adam had requested instead of showing up himself. This was the second time Lucifer had bailed like this now, what a little bitch. He can't help but feel lucky that even after splitting, you were still on okay enough terms for Lucifer to ask you such a favour.

- You have a little chat, and he plays a few harmless little jokes on you. It's been a while since you've laughed this way, and you confide in Adam that Lucifer wasn't the most social. You missed him. He stayed locked away in his room, and you got a small "hi, sweetheart" now and again, but it just wasn't the same. Not compared to how he used to hold you in his arms, sing songs to you, like a fairytale type of love. You missed that. Which was why you left him.

- Adam couldn't help but scoff at this, he should've expected as much from Lucifer.

- "Y'know, he missed out on some good shit. You're a fuckin' hottie. I don't know what he was doing ignoring a babe like you." He says. It's meant to be... comforting? Maybe? In his own way. You're a little confused, but also a little flattered?

- You two start to gossip like friends would, and you become more comfortable with the man sitting a few seats away from you, completely forgetting about the business portion of this meeting (a.k.a. the bullshit Adam made up to even get the meeting in the first place).

- He brags about himself a bit, and you can't help but find it the littlest bit charming, in a funny way. He talks about his band, how he "fuckin' shreds like a badass" on the guitar, and how the fangirls go crazy for him.

- "I'm not too interested in them though. I have my eye on someone else. I mean- yeah, they're cute 'n all, but nothing compared to this one chick I've been thinkin' about lately. She's somethin' real special." he explains.

- "A cute little lady whose shitty ex-husband left her feelin' so lonely... and unsatisfied too, I bet."

- That's when you catch on, taking notice of the subtle flirtatious smirk that plays on his lips. You feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, and you turn your head away, a bit speechless.

- Adam knows he has you now.

- A few sweet words later, and steps closer that you didn't even really seem to notice him taking, too busy focusing on his (slightly vulgar) flattery, you now feel each other's breath against your faces. The moment is tense, and his lips, now exposed after he removed his mask, ghosting over yours.

- The mask was quite the reveal. But you had to admit, he was not at all bad looking. He wasn't exceptional, but he didn't need to be. You liked him just the way he was. In this small meeting he had shown you more kindness and attention than your husband had in a while.

- One thing led to the next. A flirtatious glance, a gentle brush against each other's hand, and next thing you know, you're laying on your back on the meeting table, Adam between your legs, his lips on your neck.

- He can't help but leave you absolutely covered in hickeys. It's nice to be possessive over something. Someone who's his now. He finally turned the tables on Lucifer, and that thought can't help but bring a smug grin to his face.

- When he was joking around earlier, calling himself the "dick master" you thought he was kidding.

He was not.

- He fucking pounds you into the table, one hand on your waist, the other on your tits, feelin' you up and teasin' you to get you all flustered. He wonders how long it's been since you felt this good, but don't worry, he'll make you forget all about that.

- He can't deny that you feel (ironically enough) fucking heavenly. It's like he can't get enough of it. Not only is the sex itself amazing, he just can't get enough of the victorious feeling of getting back at Lucifer.

- Trust me when I say he has you SCREAMING. He's so fucking glad he didn't use the hologram, instead taking the risk of going down to Hell himself, just for the opportunity to feel that cunt on his cock.

- "That's a good fuckin' bitch."

- He honestly can't even quite help the filth that just comes out of his mouth so naturally, his language vulgar but.. kinda hot?

- He can't help but cum inside you and fill you up, groaning a drawn out "Fuck yes." as he hovers over you on the table.

- He's pretty happy with his new badass demon bitch by his side, and his visits to Hell on "business" become a lot more frequent. The business in question is just him fucking you in every possible position, leaving you covered in hickeys, kisses, and bite marks. You're all his now. Suck it, Lucifer.

THATS IT

it's almost 4 am so this is not at all proofread

so if it's shit

i'm sorry

edit: the cheating part made me feel bad so i switched it up

#hazbin hotel #voxbox #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam #adam smut #hazbin hotel adam smut #adam x reader

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anticanonsposts · 4 months

Text

König's first time getting high...

cw: obvi (legal) drug use, (don't do drugs unless they're legal, safe, and you are of age <3), sex p in v, oral m and f receiving, porn w/ a little plot, pining, overstimulation, nastiness <3

wc: 1,700+

nsfw below the cut, you know the drill-mdni interact

“Are you sure you wanna try this?” you ask for the umpteenth time.

König had asked to take one of your edible gummies to get high and then to have sex with you. He had never been high before so you opted to stay sober, in case he started panicking or got paranoid. Given his personality and his time in the military you never knew for sure when something like a panic attack would be triggered. On top of that, he was adamant that he really would like to have sex with you while high. You also made sure to get his consent beforehand, seeing as he would soon be inebriated.

“Yes liebling, I feel very safe with you. I’ve never tried them before, and you only live once ya know.” he replies leaning back on your bed popping the strawberry flavored gummy into his mouth.

You had turned on (insert comfort tv show here) for background noise, and to wait for the gummy to kick in. Once it did…

König was all over you. Laying side by side he clumsily pulled your body on top of his, keeping one hand pressed against your back as to keep your body pressed against his. His other hand traced along your jawline giving you hungry kisses, completely enveloping you with his mouth.

Kissing him back, with your hands braced against his shoulders you started to grind your clothed core to his clothed crotch. He soon caught on, he gripped both of your hips and started to guide your movements up and down his growing hard on. Yearning for more he, while still kissing you, starts pulling at your clothes, desperate to expose more of your skin to him. Sitting up he simultaneously pulls your shirt/bra up to expose your chest. Now he does pull away, his eyes fixated on your beautiful titties, sitting so pretty for him, nipples hard, such cute buds.

“You can put your mouth on them babe” you say giggling a bit, breaking him out of his trance before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, circling it with his tongue, sucking and flicking his tongue to tease you. While kneading the other in his hand, he switches after a minute, completely just savoring your body in his arms. Then he traces kisses up your chest, to your neck, and eventually to your lips again.

Everything is a blissful blur to him, your hips moving against his, your gasps and mewls, your fingernails grazing across the skin of his shoulders, digging into them. His dick straining against his pants yearning for more friction, his tip becoming more red and leaky. Gently he flips you and moves you to your back.

Ridding yourself of your shirt you start to shimmy out of your shorts and spread your legs in front of him. Quickly he rids himself of his shirt and pants and situates himself between your legs, placing a pillow under his dick. He begins slurping and licking at any part of your pussy he can reach, grinding into the pillow below him for any sort of relief. The plush of your thighs is pressed between his forearms and shoulders, his fingers digging into you, keeping your legs spread for him.

Groaning and moaning into your pussy, lapping as if you were leaking the elixir of life. His tongue was applying pressure to your entrance and his nose rubbed against your clit perfectly. You felt the band in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. Gripping his hair you start grinding your core up and down his face which earns a small chuckle from him. Finally, as your moans get higher and higher your legs tense as he moves you through your orgasm.

Desperately trying to catch your breath, König just continues his lapping, turning you into a writhing, wailing mess under him.

“K-König..I came! I came! Please!” you manage to groan out, voice hitching at the end as he gives a particularly harsh suck to your clit.

“M-sorry, it's just too good, schatz, please just give me one more” he mutters back to you, barely pulling away from your oversensitive folds.

Earning a loud whine from you he starts to rub your thighs trying to soothe you. “Just one more ok?”

He was such a fucking liar, you gave him one more orgasm, and then another, and another, and another until you couldn’t count anymore and you could do nothing but lay there and grip his hair pleading with him to be done. However in the back of your mind you knew the phrase that would get him to stop and you weren’t using it. As much as you were over sensitive you couldn’t bring yourself to end the pleasure.

After what feels like an eternity after coaxing ANOTHER orgasm out of you, he pulls back. Your eyes blown with lust trail up to his face. His mouth and chin gleaming with your arousal. Eyes raking down your body, he leans forward, lining his dick up with your entrance.

“Wait!” you say with enough fervent that would normally concern König but in his high haze it did not. For the love of god your pussy needed a break, at least for a bit.

Gently you took his abs/sides in your hands and guided him to lay on his back, then quickly nestled yourself in between his thighs.

Looking up at him, he is making desperate huffs and puffs, his poor dick is just aching for any kind of contact from you.

You figure you might as well return the favor, and the teasing, whether it was intentional or not. So you start by giving open mouth kisses and licks up and down his shaft, palming his tip, and the poor man is aimlessly bucking up into your mouth and hand.

“Bitte bitte bitte.” he pleads with you so you oblige and take his head into your mouth. After swirling your tongue around his tip you start to suck and bob your head up and down, taking more of him as you go.

Eventually you find a good rhythm and take as much of him in your mouth as you can and use your hand on the rest of him, bracing your other against his thigh. Moans and mewls of praise coming from him the entire time, everything just feels too good. Then with an upwards thrust and a loud “OHhhh mein gott!!!” he cums filling your mouth. Carefully you swallow around him, and release him with a wet pop. Then your eyes dart up to his, then smirking you bring your mouth back down to his shaft.

“Uh uhhh” he says, gripping your jaw with one of his oh so large hands, harder than he normally would, but not enough to hurt. Brining your mouth to his, his teeth graze yours as he desperately drinks you in once more in a starved kiss.

Gently, you climb your way up but he just hauls you toward him. Then pulling away from him, both of you gasping for air, you line yourself up with him, his hands now resetting on your love handles. Slowly sinking down onto him, you both let out a deep sigh before giving him a small nod. Bracing one hand on his thigh behind you and one against his chest, you gently start rocking your hips back and forth, up and down increasing your speed as you go.

“Liebe, you feel so fucking amazing” he chokes out as you continue your now fast pace, leaning over and practically gnawing on this man’s neck.

You give a hum in response before he is bringing your hips forward slightly, keeping them in place as he uses the leverage to fuck up into you. Now completely overwhelming your senses, all you can do is lean back up, and grasp onto his hands, helping guide him guiding you on his dick.

His eyes keep flicking back and forth from your face, to your tits, to where your bodies meet. “Can you come one more time for me schatz? Hmmm?” he pants sitting up and locking his right arm around your lower back.

At this point all you can do is nod, moan, and grip onto his shoulders. “OOOhh fUck!” you mewl out while his other hand comes up to cradle your jaw, bringing his lips to yours one last time. Absolutely swallowing you, mind, body, and soul at this point. Nothing but his lips on yours are keeping you grounded in reality. Entire body is on fire, lips swollen and red, feeling like every muscle in your body is tensing. The band in your core tightening once again as he drinks in all of the moans and whimpers coming from you. Quickly, you snake a hand down to your clit and start rubbing lazy circles.

Finally you feel the band start to break, “Fuck, König….I’m cumming I’m cumming oh my god…”

“Fall apart beautiful, please…I’ve got you, I’ve got you” he replies finally breaking the kiss, voice raspy.

Then you start seeing spots as white hot pleasure rips through your core, cutting its way through the rest of your body as every part of you grips onto his body. Guttural sounds coming from your throat as he fucks you through your climax.

Sobbing into his neck at this point, he flips the two of you over and continues drilling into you, chasing his own orgasm. And finally with a few final strong thrusts he explodes inside of you, overstimulating the both of you with his now slow, dragging thrusts.

Both of you, now absolutely quivering, chests pressed together, layers of sweat pooling between you. Taking his face into your hands all you two can do is stare into each other’s eyes trying to catch your breath.

“Ich liebe dich so sehr. Mein perfektes, perfektes, wunderschönes Mädchen” he whispers, now ever so gently pressing his lips to yours, tongues gently dancing around each other, just savoring the moment.

“I love you too” you reply half blinking at him. Then hissing through his teeth, he pulls out of you, both his dick and your pussy completely spent and slick. Kissing and nuzzling into your neck he moves onto his back, pulling your body against him, drawing small circles up and down your back. One of your hands dancing across his chest, turning his face to look at you, he consumes your face with his eyes, taking in every detail, every, single, part of you.

You two then proceeded to order so much take out because, while usually very ravenous after sex, it hit König harder given the circumstances. You two then ate, cuddled, and watched movies for the rest of the night until you fell asleep.

#könig smut #könig #könig x reader #könig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #call of duty smut #call of duty modern warfare #cod smut #cod mw2 #konig mw2 #konig cod #könig blurb #könig imagine #könig x you #konig blurb #konig imagine #konig headcanons

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sprainedwriting · 5 days

Text

All we have is time.

Adam x fem!reader

Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but sadly you aren’t an idiot.

Part 1 Part 2

CW/TW: Porn, COLLEGE AUU, TW:Adam Oral M reciving, one sided pinning, possessive behaviour, please tell me if i missed something, Choking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, toxic relation ship and attachment , implied mental heath issues on readers side

Basically I wrote this for @namazunomegami and I but u guys can read it too ig /j

The drive to your friends house to meet for lunch was painful. For you at least, your friend had a blast. Asking you questions which you didn’t really want to answer. For someone who claimed to hate Adam she sure was interested in knowing about his performance in bed.

Once your friend parked, you made sure to take 2 steps at once when you walked about the stairs, quickly knocking at your friends door. You didn’t take the elevator, since you were too afraid to be stuck in a small room with her.

“…And like, is it true that he has a you-know-what piercing? How does that even work, does it hurt you? Or is extra stimulation…?” She was right on your trail.

The door opened and your other friend looked annoyed, her brows were furrowed and she had a scowl on her pretty face, “What the fuck? Did no one teach-“

You pushed past her into her unfairly huge living room, making sure that all 3 of your friends are in the room when you made your confession, “I slept with Adam and now she won’t leave me alone!” You pointed your finger at your pestering friend, Bernadette.

Bernadette grinned like she was experiencing joy for the first time, “Twice! She slept with him twice!”

You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands to avoid the stares of everyone. You flopped down onto the soft couch.

“Oh my god? Details?”

“..Wait was that why you disappeared at the parties? You were fucking Adam..or more like Adam was fucking you. My, My.” Your other 2 friends chimed in, a couple who moved in together after 1 month of dating and have been going up and down ever since. So you feel like they can’t judge you. But they’re also lesbians and that’s basically part of their culture so like maybe you’re really the odd one out.

“You guys are acting like we are dating. Can we talk less about my sex life and do more eating?” You whined out. Daring to look up towards your whole three friends, you gave them your best impression of puppy dog eyes.

Monica sighed and twirled a black strand of coily hair around her finger, her short but still perfectly manicured pink nails were in a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her girlfriend, Dymphna, gave you a once over with a slight smirk on her face. Her bleached hair perfectly framing her soft face.

“Why do you never want to over share sex details with us?” Bernadette whined. For someone who acted at first like that was worst thing to ever happen to her, she sure was chipper now. MAN.

“Bro, it would be, like, really hypothetical of me to break up with the extra for sharing all of our sex details only to turn around and do the same to my friends!” You told them sternly.

That wasn’t the only reason you broke up with him, but it summoned it up pretty well. He was Adam’s drummer, and him being part of the band was his first red flag. Other warning signs were his selfish behaviour in and outside the bedroom, him NEVER defending you against his mother, and shit talking you behind your back towards the band. It was a nasty on and off relationship, with him constantly breaking up with you for whatever reason floated around his head and you took him back ever time. That changed once you found out just how exactly he talks about you to his friends, it was the last straw.

Sometimes you wonder what Adam thinks of the, mostly made up, stories he has heard from your ex. Is that why he sought you out?

“Bae, that’s different. He’s a guy. We are girls, which means we are better, and we share everything.” Dymphna chimed in.

The back and forth went like that for a while, lunch passed and so did dinner and before you knew it you were camped out in your friends living room. This isn’t the first time lunch escalated to a sleepover, so you were prepared. While you were chilling under your blanket, your friends started up their questioning again.

You know that Adam wouldn’t care if you shared sex details with your friends, or anyone else really. Matter of fact, you think it would stroke his ego badly. What you were more worried about is spilling too much. His intense possessiveness, the fact that he herded you into a exclusive relationship. One sided exclusive relationship? His stare, lowkey stalkerish behaviour, his soft touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t noticing. The emotional charged atmosphere in the car.

“So it’s casual, right?” Monica asked carefully. At some point you got pissed off with everyone hounding you for answers.

“Yeah. What else would it be? Has he ever had a serious relationship in college?”

“Hmm. Well, he does talk sometimes about dates he went to. One time he bitched and moaned in practice about a girl he went on multiple dates with, who talked about equality but didn’t want to pay for the date. Man, he didn’t stop talking about that for weeks. I wonder how Lute can deal with him?” The last part was more mumbled to herself than anything. Her girlfriend was draped over her lap while the both sat on the couch.

Adam and Lute run a female-only self defence club, which is affectionately called the The Exorcists. Monica and Dymphna met at the club during their freshman year. This also meant they're more familiar with Adam than you.

Bernadette was already passed out besides you, her soft snores filled the air.

“You know the story about his ex-girlfriends?” Dymphna whispered, conscious of your sleeping friend.

“Only a bit. Dated two girls in highschool, both cheated. The second one somehow screwed him over, hard. Got kicked out of his father’s house, lived with his mother…Did I miss something?”

“That summons it up... Do you think he was into you before the final break up?” Monica chimed in.

And you think of the times where you were single for a small time, at party’s and gatherings and at campus, were Adam approached you. But you were so far up your heart ache that you simply repressed all those memories. Oh my god. The memories crashed into you like a wave.

“…Naahh. Barley saw him before that.” You tried to avoid the topic, by badly lying. You see them exchange knowing glances, but you just ignore that. Like everything else uncomfortable in your life you ignore. Avoidance above everything else.

Maybe you’re just fucking delusional and your own ego went to your head.

“Wait! So at the last party you skipped out on you were already sleeping with each other, right?”

“Yeah…Why?”

Another glance was exchanged between the couple, which started to piss you off. You hate third wheeling.

Dymphna sat up, rubbing at her eye, “Huh. Well…Hmmm..Adam seemed kinda pissed of at the party. He seemed to be looking for…something. But! Don’t worry about it.”

You threw your head back into your pillow, trying to hide away. Jesus. Your friends chuckled at you, while they got up.

“Be careful, I think if you break Adam’s heart Lute will have to tranq gun him down. Literally.” Monica giggled at the thought.

They both kissed your cheek while wishing you a goodnight, returning to their bedroom.

Even though it usually doesn’t happen to you, you couldn’t fall asleep. As much as you turned in your makeshift bed, sleep didn’t come easy to you. It’s midnight now, and the only comfort you have is your professor cancelling all the classes for the day, so it’s not like you had to wake up early.

You did have an obgyn appointment tho, to talk over birth control options for you. After that you had to work a shift. Ugh. What you wouldn’t give to be rich, but, well, this is why you’re the first one in your family to go to college. Breaking the cycle, or whatever Bernadette is always babbling about.

In the end you lost the fight to whatever demon you were fighting in your mind and you pulled out your phone from the charger and started mindlessly scrolling.

A message appeared on the top of your screen from Adam. Damn. Ok. You opened the chat log.

[Adam Godfree]: University at Albany Study: Semen Eases Depression in Women {Link} 22:34PM

[Adam Godfree]: u up tits? 12:22AM

[Reader]: Yes. 12:22AM

You see the type bubble appear and disappear for a solid minute. This isn’t the first time Adam had texted you at an ungodly hour, asking if you’re up. It’s the first time though where you respond. You rub your hand over your face, feeling stupid all of the sudden. Before you could throw your phone away Adam responded.

[Adam Godfree]: yeah??? 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: want me to pick u up bbae 12:24AM

[Adam Godfree]: or i can come over idgaf 12:24

[Adam Godfree]: whatever gets me in that tight pusssssy 12:25AM

[Reader]: I’m at Monica and Dymphna’s right now. 12:25AM

[Adam Godfree]: my fave lesbos 12:25Am

[Adam Godfree]: i can pick you up where ever when ever baby 12:26AM

[Adam Godfree]: jus say the word 12:26AM

You started chewing at your lips, fuck. It’s not like you could sleep and as you learned from the two last times, nothing puts you more to sleep than having Adam rearrange your guts. You looked over to Bernadette snoring besides you, her whole body was arranged like a pretzel. She was a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake her up. And hearing suspicious sounds from your friends bedroom means also they wouldn’t notice you fucking off.

Your nerves would have been stilled if you knew how Adam was nervously pacing around in his own empty apartment.

[Reader]: {Location} 12:28AM

[Adam Godfree]: be there in 10 12:28AM

SHIT. Ok, deep breaths you got this. Looking around for your bag, you realised you had to pack exactly 0. You ha shoved everything recklessly into your bag, but it was all there. Making really sure you got everything, you rubbed at your face and neck, to get the nervousness out. Why are you so nervous?? That guy literally shoved his tongue up your pussy you actually need to chill.

Before you realised it, eight minutes have already passed. Carefully gathering your bag and jacket, you simply slipped into your shoes without tying them. Walk of shame vibes without having done the shameful part yet. Slipping into your jacket, you left the apartment and made your way to the elevator. You wish you had an elevator in your building. You’re pretty sure you saw a rat last week just chilling in the staircase.

Pressing the button and patiently waiting for the elevator you decided to text in the group chat where your whereabouts will be. Before anyone thinks you ran away or something.

Getting into the elevator you made your way down, till you left the building through the huge automatic glass doors. Looking around, you tried to remember what the fuck Adam’s car looked like. Expensive, for sure. But everything here was expensive so you were lost. Making another sweep of the street, you spotted Adam’s car, but only because you spotted Adam first. He was typing away at his phone.

Walking over, you opened the passenger door and got in. You simply put your bag in-front of your feet. Adam seemed slightly startled but he quickly catches himself once he saw it was you. You muttered out a small ‘Hi’ while sighing. As soon as you were in Adam’s presence you felt the tiredness creeping in. Weird.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going?” He murmured out, he grasped his huge hand against the nape of your neck and clashes your lips into each other.

Adam kept it PG for the first 5 seconds, which honestly made you proud of him, after that he threw out any decency and tangled your tongues together. Grasping his shoulders to push him gently away from you, you could have sworn you heard him straight up whine quietly.

“Alright, pussy pleaser, how about you drive to your place? So we can finally have sex in a bed. I can’t take another semi-public place.” You told him teasingly.

Adam scoffed at you with a smile on his lips, “I’m surprised you can take me at all, babe.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you turned around to fasten your seatbelt. Adam packed away his phone (who was he texting?) and shifted the gear to pull out of the side walk. You still think your friends were full of shit. One way to find out.

Sitting up suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Adam. He averted his gaze from the road to you, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Do you ever feel like you’re going insane?” You decided to ask him.

He scratched at his chin while furrowing his brow at you, “I don’t give a shit. We gonna fuck or what?”

Oh thank god. He couldn’t care less about you.

“Yup!”

Adam gave you one last once over while slightly shaking his head at you. He pulled out into the street and started the way to his home. You were a bit relieved. The less feelings involved the better.

You watched the street lamps and different buildings pass you. You tried to take a glance into the windows, you never learned how to mind your own business. Nothing was more interesting than seeing how other people lived.

Adam smoothly parked his car at his assigned parking space. The sign had a guitar sticker besides Adam’s last name, Godfree.

Getting out of the car, you hurled your bag over your shoulder. You already thought your friends lived in a fancy neighbourhood but Adam really knows how to do everyone. Walking up towards him, since you didn’t know where the fuck to go, you looked up to him.

Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, where your bag was thrown over, and gently pushed you in-front of him. He lead the way while being behind you. His fingers weaselled its way behind the bag strap, successfully sliding it off your shoulder and slinging it across his own shoulder.

You threw a glance behind you, to find out what his plan was, but he was grinning at you.

“What kind of man would I be if I let my favourite girl carry anything?” He whispered into your ear. You felt yourself begin to flush, looking straight ahead, while Adam had his arm wrapped around your side. Walking now beside you, he dragged you into his side. Chuckling at you, he herded you to his apartment.

You were too focused on the feeling of Adam’s big, warm body besides yours to focus on anything going on around you. You’re down bad. In the trenches, basically.

Entering Adam’s apartment, you didn’t quite know what you expected but it wasn’t this. Part of you imagined a messy apartment, with dishes and trash pilling up everywhere, but that wasn’t the case. His apartment felt empty, the way Ikea display rooms feel empty. It’s nice, minimalistic even.

It’s clear to you that Adam didn’t decorate the living room. You slipped out off your shoes, everything was so sterile here you felt bad just existing. Adam took of his own shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack. He helped you out of your own jacket and hung it up.

Adam looked you up and down and started chuckling at you, “The fuck are you even wearing?”

You looked down at your pyjamas which. Yeah, was embarrassing. Your oversized t-shirt had permanent bleach and hair dye stains from adventure with your friends in it. It was a band shirt of Adam’s band, a prototype you got from your ex. Your fuzzy pants were as old as time. You bought them when you were 13, the colour was washed out. It was blue with duck prints on it. Together with more mysterious stains.

“..What? You don’t like my sleeping fit?” You looked up into his smiling face. His eyes were soft.

“Nah, babe. Nothing gets me more hard than…Fuzzy ducks. What the fuck did you even do to your clothes?” Adam grasped your hand into his, starting to lead you towards his bedroom. His fingers were squeezing yours.

“You never dyed your friends hair at 3am because her crush didn’t text her back for 15 minutes?” You smiled at the memory of Dymphna losing her mind over Monica before they got together.

“Damn, let me guess Dy? Didn’t do that, but Lute did force me to make fake accounts to test one of her toys.” Adam sniffed, “Don’t tell her I told you that. She would kill me.”

Adam opened up his bedroom door and finally you see something you were expecting. It wasn’t trash or dirt, but a few guitars strewn across the room. His big bed was shoved into a corner, it was unmade. Huge windows were covered by the curtains and his desk was surprisingly tidy. His laundry basket was overflowing. On his desk was a photo of him and Lute, they seemed happy. Everything was messy but still clean.

While you were looking around, Adam put your bag down besides his closet. For a second he simply watched you, standing in his room. He pinched himself, trying to get his shit together.

You heard Adam walk towards you, you turned around and Adam grasped your face into his hands, he bend down and kissed you. Soft. Gently. Lovingly. Your heart sped up.

His body was towering over yours, his huge hands on your face and he started to lead you towards his bed. He pushed you softly unto the plush surface, while you laid on his bed he took of his sweater, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

He smirked down at you, grasping at your knees and spreading your legs apart,

“Tell me, baby, do you rub that pretty pussy to the thought of me? Huh?” His tone was arrogant, like he knew the answer to that already.

Which, yeah, he did. Busted. Are you that predictable?? You were going to die on the spot. You covered the lower half of your face with your hand.

“…Maybe.” Your voice was small. Your own pride was too big to admit to that. Shit.

Adam’s hands grasped at your hips, his thumbs were gently massaging your skin. His hands wandered down, grabbing at the waistband of your pants he pulled it and your underwear off your body carefully. Like unwrapping a present.

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

“Wha…Why?”

“ ‘m not gonna touch you till you give me a show, slut.” Adam kneeled down before the bed between your legs, his head in his hand, the elbow resting on the blanket. His eyes were focused on you.

Fuckfuckfuck.

You bit down on your lip. Who would win in this stare off? Not you for sure.

Avoiding his sharp eyes, you slowly spread your legs further apart. Adam’s eyes moved from your face to your glistening pussy. He started to smile at the sight.

A thought popped up in your head. Adam loves physical touch, that much is clear. You just have to give him the best show ever and forbid him from touching you, as a little revenge. Teasing him will be fun. Hopefully. He’s going to eat you alive.

Your hand moved from your chest, to your stomach, to your cunt. Making sure Adam could see everything, you spread your folds apart with your fingers. You heard him hitch his breath. Ok. You can do this. Adam is obviously infatuated with you, so hopefully you can’t disappoint him. Too much.

Starting gently, you gathered some wetness on your middle and ring finger from your dripping hole. Rubbing slow circles into your clit, your lip got caught between your teeth while you tried to stifle a moan.

Adam shuffled on his knees, his one hand went towards his hardening dick. Rubbing at his bulge through his sweatpants he groaned slightly at the sight of you. This really was his favourite fucking show.

“You like that, whore? Do like touching yourself for me?” Adam spoke in a breathy tone.

You wish you had mastered dirty talk like Adam, but part of you just wishes to hide away forever. The other part wants to get dicked down by Adam constantly. So yeah, your mind is pretty torn apart.

“Uh-Hu.” You simply gasped out, who needs words when you can just moan.

Fingers moving from your pulsing clit, you started to slowly enter them into your cunt. Pumping them in and out, the frustrating truth was that your fingers were much smaller than Adam’s dick. Or his fingers. So the places he could reach were basically unknown territory to you.

“ Shit, babe, need me to help that greedy pussy out?” Adam looked into your eyes up. Fucking hell. Sexiest man alive.

He started sitting up, his hands reaching out towards your thighs.

You placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down. Usually Adam’s eyes were sharp, like that of a hawks, but right now he reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked up at you with round eyes.

“Why don’t you beg a bit for it, Adam? What makes you think you deserve it?” You tried to make your voice as sultry as possible. It felt more shaky than anything.

Now it was Adam’s turn to be flustered, his face was flushed and he covered his mouth with his hand. Ah. Did you over do it? Before you could take your words back, Adam leaned his head against your ankle, nuzzling the skin there. He avoided eye contact.

“..Fuuuuck, woman, you got me so fucking pussy whipped. You know how down bad I am? Nobody squeezes my dick like you do. Shit….Please, let me fuck that holy like cunt.” Adam grumbled out, him being submissive was hot as fuck. Maybe you should gag him next time. Or tie him up? That’d be hot.

You sat up more, removing your fingers to grasp at Adam’s bare shoulders, “…Damn, Adam. Please stuff me full.”

That was all it took for Adam pounce on you, he grasped his hands under your back, throwing you towards the pillows. Your landing was cushioned, thankfully. Adam crawled over you, towering over you with his much bigger body. Your talent is really biting off more than you can chew.

Adam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “That was really hot, sugar tits, honestly. But we really gotta give you some good lessons on how to properly dom, don’t cha think? We can remember that for next time, now we gotta focus on filling you up real nice ‘n good.”

You simply nodded at Adam’s words, you want him so bad. You hope he wants you just as bad.

He clashed his lips into your own, teeth clanking together and spit being exchanged like it’s your only life force. As if this could heal you, heal you both. You think it does, a bit.

Adam’s warm hands snaked themselves under your shirt, his hands exploring your body. He stopped the kiss to take your shirt off, now you were completely naked, while Adam was still wearing his sweatpants.

“A bit unfair, no?” You ask him, while trailing your fingers over his stomach, towards his happy trail to then tug at the waistband of his sweats. His dick was straining against the grey cloth. A dark spot of pre cum was forming.

Adam chuckled, “Everything for my favourite slut.” He teasingly dragged his sweats down slowly, together with his underwear.

His dick sprang free and it was once again clear that your fingers could not compare to Adam’s sheer size. You already felt a phantom stretch in your pussy at the sight of him.

Adam started kissing at your neck while his hand massaged your tit, pulling and pinching at the nipple. You whined. Once you felt him trying to leave marks on your neck, you pushed his face away from your skin.

“Ok. New rule. No marks beyond the cleavage. I’m serious, don’t laugh! Spring is coming and I can’t walk around looking like I just got mauled.” You told him.

“Sure you can. And when you do and I see you I can remember how you milked me dry and everyone knows you’re spoken for.” Adam tried to sound convincing, he was, but you don’t want to die of a heat stroke just because Adam has some weird issues going on.

You simple glared at him, reaching out and tugging at his nipple piercing roughly.

“Ouch! Fucking bitch. Okay, okay. Got it.” He grumbled out, but he started smirking again, which was never good, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave marks on me tho, baby. Equality and all that shit.”

Dragging him down by his nape, you tugged at his hair while frenching him. Why is he so dreamy? Or more like what’s wrong with you? Doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. This whole thing is to casually have fun. Totally casual. Yeah.

Adam spread your legs apart slightly, rubbing at your pussy with his finger, he slowly slipped one finger in and then the other. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, he was mumbling stuff you didn’t quite catch. Something about prepping you properly. Thank god for that because otherwise he would split you apart.

Slipping in the third and final finger, he curled them up, causing you to moan Adam’s name like a prayer. Maybe you are praying to him.

Feeling Adam remove his fingers made you whine out for him. Yeah you really need dom lessons from him, a bit of pleasure and you’re brain dead. That’s embarrassing, low-key.

Settling between your legs, Adam rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.

“Ugh, prettiest pussy on the whole campus. Believe me, slut.” He whispered to himself.

Sometimes you wonder how much Adam is aware of the fact that you can hear basically his inner monologue. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know it.

Slowly slipping into your warm, wet hole Adam groaned at the feeling of you enveloping him completely. Some sick, locked away part of him is happy that you didn’t mention condoms.

Adam started to slowly rock your hips together, the pressure was building up in your abdomen. Reaching under your thighs, Adam pressed them towards your chest, reminding you off a pretzel. He reached even more sensitive spots inside you with that angle.

Seeing and hearing you be so satisfied made him pick up the pace.

“..Ya know what this position is called?..Fuck!..It’s..Ah..Called mating press, baby….You wanna be..ugh.. my little breeding mate? Huh?” Adam grunted out.

Shit, his dick piercing was rubbing against your walls. Fuck, Adam has been barley inside of you for 10 minutes and you already feel like exploding. At least Adam also looks like he’s going to bust any minute.

Man, and he hasn’t even touched your clit. He has an incredible effect on you. Well, more like on your pussy. You never thought pregnancy was hot till now. You literally let the guy spit in your mouth.

Scratching up his back, you decided to make him regret saying that you could mark him up as much as you pleased. Fucker. Your lips searched for Adam’s skin, you dragged his face towards yours. You kissed the side of his mouth, he tried to catch your lips into his, but you moved on.

Lips crashed into his cheek and chin and nose, till you finally found his neck. You made sure to kiss, suck and lick as hard as possible. Everywhere you could. Adam groaned straight up in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Want to mark me up, heh. Show everyone who I belong to? Shit.” Adam grasped at your hips to keep you still, to fuck into you.

“Love when you do that. When you hit that spoo-Ah- spot!” You called out to Adam, to spur him on. To have him fuck your harder. You felt juices run down your thighs.

“Oh yeah?..Tell me what else you love?” He groaned out.

“Adam! Right there, please. I..Uhh…Love your dick…?” It was more a question than a statement.

“Fuck. I’ll take it.” Adam kept up his pace, and you felt your toes curling, your legs tensing up, while you locked your ankles behind Adam’s back, to keep him inside of you.

Your orgasm crashed over you, like an electric shook cursing through your body. Feeling you clench around him, Adam couldn’t keep up much longer and he came inside you.

The sensation of having Adam’s hard dick pulse inside you, while his hot seed is spilling inside you made you sob out at the overstimulating feeling.

Adam rubbed his big, warm hands over sweaty body in a soothing manner. What a man.

While Adam was kissing your cheek, chin and nose, you felt your heartbeat slow down. Reaching around blindly, you fished out your pyjama shirt and slipped it over your head. Adam’s eyes never left your form and neither did his hands.

He put on his underwear, to then pull you into his arms, being the big spoon. You were already half gone, cuddled into the blanket with Adam.

With Adam it felt like, he was born to be domestic and monogamous but forced to frat and fuck around.

You couldn’t spare more energy on that thought, since you were already drifting off.

———————————————

Waking up in Adam’s bed, with Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around you felt surreal. Light was peaking out of the curtains. You had no clue what time it was. It felt like morning. Was it morning?

You had to take your medication. You really didn’t want Adam to know you’re on meds. That’s really non of his business. You don’t even want it to be your business, to be honest. Rummaging through your bag like a crazy woman would very much wake him up. You had to find the bath.

Slowly and carefully getting up, you crawled out of Adam’s alaskan king size bed. Jesus his bed was nearly as big as your whole apartment. Adam was a big guy, though. He does need a big bed. Imagine him squeezing him in your bed made you smile, but also made your neck ache for him.

You took your bag, which was ungracefully put besides Adam’s closet, and walked into the living room. Where was the bathroom? Looking at the choice of 3 doors, one obviously the front door, the other two where a mystery. Adam’s apartment had an open concept, so you saw that one of the doors isn’t the kitchen door, since you could directly look into it.

Deciding to just open the door closest to you, you were happy to see that it was the bathroom. The other must be like a guest room, or a storage space. Or whatever.

Gently closing the door behind you, you started searching for your pill bottle in your bag. You ended up spilling out your whole bag on the bathroom floor to find that stupid thing. Taking out your doses, you placed the pill under your tongue and started up the sink to gather some water in your hand. Swallowing everything, you closed the tap.

Feeling Adam’s cum run down your thigh made you cringe. Should you shower? Would he be mad if you used his shower? What the fuck why would he get mad at you for using his shower, that guy cums inside you now regularly. You have to get your shit together.

Before you could take your shirt off, you heard a door slam and Adam yelling,

“What the fuck! That fucking cunt! Where fucking-“ You heard him put on his clothes outside the door.

Carefully opening the bathroom door, you made awkward eye contact with a half dressed Adam. A beat of silence passed.

“..Are you good?” You decided to ask him.

His breathing was calming down, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He avoided eye contact with you.

“Yeah, totally. I…I have this, like, crazy neighbour, you know?” He tried to weasel his way out of the conversation.

“Adam, I think you might be the crazy neighbour.” You simply told him.

His head whipped towards you, he glared at you, stepping closer to you and pointing a finger at you, “Alright, listen here you-“

Before he could continue his sentence, you hooked your own pointer finger against his.

“Wanna take a shower with me?” You looked up to him, with hopeful eyes. You tugged him towards you, with your intervened fingers.

By simply looking at him, you knew Adam was losing the resolve he had to be mad at you. Thank god.

Adam took off his wrinkly shirt, throwing it into the abyss. Same with his other cloth articles. All you had to do was take off your shirt. While you stepped into the shower, Adam’s eyes wandered across your spilled out bag items.

You were playing around with the water settings and temperature when you felt Adam wrap his arms across your stomach. You leaned back against his soft stomach and broad chest. Once you were satisfied with everything you ducked under the water, feeling the warm water envelope you made your muscles relax.

When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to see a 1 in 3 shampoo bottle. Once you made sure that your hair was soaked properly, you tried to reach out for the bottle but Adam was faster than you.

He spun you around so you were facing him and he then squirted a generous amount of soap into his hand. He massaged the soap gently into your hair, then he moved on to your body. He threw away any chastity he tried to keep up, his hands were massaging your tits. His lips meet your own, and he bit his teeth into them. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth.

He moved his hands towards your hips, dragging your crotch towards his already harding dick. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

Adam helped you rins off the soap from your hair and body, he kept leaving kisses on your face and neck while doing so. He turned you so his body was shielding you from the water. Damn his height and build.

With his hands on your shoulders he lightly pushed you down on your knees. So, here you were kneeling down in front of Adam. His totally not intimidating dick hang before you, thick and heavy.

You have heard the term breeder balls, and you never really had an image in your mind till you saw Adam. Looking up at him, you saw him smirk down at you. Grasping your cheeks into his hand, he squeezed your lips apart.

“Wanna please daddy? Suck my dick real good?” Adam told you with a shark like grin.

You swallowed down the extra spit collecting in your mouth, Adam just mad you nervous. Made your stomach flutter and your thighs clench.

Reaching out your hand, you started to slowly wrap your fingers around Adam’s cock. Your fingers barley met, and you started stroking him back and forth. Your thumb rubbed over his tip, the pre cum was collecting rapidly. Adam’s hand went to your head, he was pushing away your hair from your face.

“You teasin’ me?” Adam mumbled out. He tugged at your hair in a threatening manner.

Taking his dick in his own hand, he lightly slapped your cheek with it.

“How about you clean my dick for me? Open up wiiiiiiide.” Man, you didn’t even need to look at him to see the wide grin in his face.

Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, you let Adam rub his tip against your tongue. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his pre cum hit your taste buds. It could be worse, for sure.

Adam eased his dick into your mouth, with every shallow trust he put more and more and more down your throat. You tried to breath through your nose, tried to steady yourself. He didn’t bother letting you set the pace, simply starring into your face to gauge your reactions, to not push you too far.

Your hands rested on his bulky thighs, your nails digging into skin and hair. You kept your lips over your teeth, to not hurt him. Using your tongue to massage his dick as best as possible, you also hollowed out your cheeks, to suck him properly in.

“Such a pretty face, would be a waist to fuck you any way where I can’t see it. You want me to cum down your throat? Sure you do, all the bitches love that.” Maybe you should bit his dick. Fucker.

Adam, head pusher, Godfree thrusted his dick further and further down your throat. His pace was getting faster and rougher. Just how he was with your pussy. An especially deep push made you choke and gag. You pushed yourself off Adam’s dick, to catch your breath and not to throw upon his dick. That would be embarrassing.

He petted your hair gently, while waiting for you, “..Why did you take your bag with you?” He quietly asked you.

“..Uhh..I..wanted to get..just dressed.” Man you’re a bad liar.

Adam pinched your cheek with his fingers, it bordered on painful. He just starred down at you. Usually you could easily read him, he was very expressive and voiced any kind of emotion he’s going through. Verbally and nonverbally. This time tho, his face was blank. The usual pleasant nervous you felt around Adam turned into dread.

He simply hummed at you, pushing your head towards his dick. You took him back into your mouth. He returned towards his rough pace, making you choke slightly but this time you recovered quicker.

“ ‘m gonna cum down your little throat.” Was the only warning you got, before Adam held your head still to fuck into your mouth. Feeling him cum down your throat was sure an experience.

Adam, because he’s an asshole, decided to pinch your nose, to keep you from breathing. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to push yourself off him once he was gone and to

take in air greedily. Motherfucker.

Leaning towards him, you bit into his thigh. As hard as you could. Usually when you bit him you try to mind your teeth, this time you hoped he bled.

With a painful yelp Adam quickly pulled you off of him.

“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He angrily asked you.

“Why fucking choke me, dumbass?” You asked back with the same energy.

“Babe, what’s the big deal? I can promise you, if you sat on my face and choked me? I would cum in my pants. Straight up.”

“Fuck off.”

Roughly grasping your jaw into his hand, he was seething and it was a borderline painful sensation.

“Why take your fucking bag with you?”

Shaking him off you, you rubbed at your jaw,

“That’s non of your business.” You hissed out at him.

You saw Adam’s tongue poke his cheek, a bitter smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah, right.” Adam grasped you under your arms, picking you up. For a second he simple held you up like a rag doll. You felt small and helpless, you hated that. With a hand on your shoulder he forced you out of the shower, into the cold air. Adam picked up a bathing rob and put it on you.

And even though he was clearly pissed off at you, he was still careful when dressing you. He draped a towel over your head, he then grasped your arm and threw you out of the bathroom, he locked the door once you were out.

What the hell?

Wait.

“Adam! Give me my fucking bag!” You hammered a fist against the door.

“Whaaat? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear youuuuu.” He turned the shower up more to drown out the sound of you cursing him out.

There’s no use in yelling at Adam, you knew that. Stomping towards his bedroom, you threw yourself into the soft bed. Sitting up, you looked around. Seeing a clock at the bed site table showed you it’s roughly 6:30 AM. Damn. No wonder you felt so tired. Ah, your phone was on there too. You didn’t see it in your bag, you thought it would be by the closet. Dropping out of your messy bag. Adam probably put it there.

Picking it up you simply looked through your notifications. Nothing exciting was going on. You should probably just sleep. Putting in a reasonable alarm, and putting it back on the little table, you cuddled up under Adam’s soft blanket. Everything smelled like him. That was nice.

Before you fully drifted off, you heard the bathroom door unlock. You sat up properly, to see Adam enter the room. It seemed like he calmed down. Couldn’t be you. He put down your packed bag back near the closet. Ugh.

“Ever heard of privacy and boundaries?”

“Naw, don’t believe in that bullshit.”

Yeah, you could fucking tell.

Adam sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. He was scratching at the stubbles at his chin.

“..I don’t give a fuck if you’re on meds. If that’s why you were acting so fucking shifty.”

“I don’t care about your opinion! I care if I have to take that shit! And believe me, I genuinely wish I didn’t need it. I’d rather just…be normal and fit in.” Your voice got smaller at the end. You want nothing more than to fit in.

Adam sighed, “..Well, how were your shitty little friends supposed to find you, if you were like everyone else?” He grasped your neck gently and your foreheads touched each other while you gazed into each others eyes, “..How would I have found you if you didn’t stand out?”

You felt your eyelashes get wet, tears gathering in your eye. Damn. Okay.

You sniffed and rubbed the water from your eyes.

“…Let’s sleep.”

Adam grunted in agreement. Lots of excitement for one morning. Laying back down, you felt Adam’s arms wrap around you once again.

And when you woke up a few hours later, Adam had a tight grip on you and had you pressed against the wall. So you couldn’t escape this time.

#cw smut #hazbin hotel adam x reader #adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam smut #adam ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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neo-percs · 7 months

Text

FACE SITTING:: ( day 11 )

WARNING:: face sitting, unprotected sex, best friend! Juyeon, fingering, flirting, teasing.

SUMMARY:: you've confided in your best friend about your sexcapades many times before, when you break the news that you've never had an orgasm from getting head Juyeon takes it upon himself to help you with that.

WORD COUNT:: 1.4K

"I beg you're pardon?" Juyeon asks feeling almost she'll shocked at the news "I'm being so serious, every time I get head I have to fake it because I feel bad" you whine in response. "Who are you fucking to not be able to cum from head?!" He asks as he breaks down into laughter making your face heat up in embarrassment.

"No, but in the end I get off...just not exactly when somebody's face is between my legs" you trail off quietly. "Now I want to see if I can make you cum" he mumbled not too keen on embarrassing himself if you're opposed to the idea. "Okay" you shrug. Neither of you had anything to gain out of it except an orgasm and keeping his ego in tact.

"Okay?" He asks his eyebrows scrunch together. "Okay, you can give me head" you say so nonchalantly it almost mind boggles Juyeon. "Okay. Sit on my face" he says voice barely over a whisper. Your movements are slow yet precise; standing up from the bed and ridding yourself of your panties, slipping them down your thighs before they drop to your ankle kicking them away.

Then your shirt, Juyeon's eyes attach to the way your chest looked like it could spill out of the bra any second from just one slight movement but he didn't have to think any harder about it as you unclip it and let the straps loosely fall from your shoulders. Juyeon didn't know where all of this need came from but just the sight of you naked is really fucking with his senses right.

"fuck I wanna eat you out so bad" he groans as his head falls back against the headboard your thighs practically clench together at the thought. "Come here" he says holding a hand out his eyes looking so fucked out you almost moan at the sight. The sight of his jaw clenching and adam's apple moving was enough for you grab onto his hand not even thinking as you straddle his lap he sits up, hands caressing the back of your thighs gently fingers digging into the back of your inner thigh.

Your hands meet the back of his neck gently pulling him closer until your lips met. Pulling away like the kiss had burned Juyeon laid flat on his back and guided you up the bed. Your knees dig into the mattress as you crawl over his face, your thighs trapping his head between your thighs, the smile on his lips makes your stomach flutter. You were nervous to sit down all the way, making you hover over his face cautiously. "What are you doing? Sit all the way" he spoke to him with a small laugh that made his chest bubble.

But before he could press your hips down his fingers hook at the elastic band of your panties. Tugging your panties down from the elastic waistband over your thighs and down your ankles he's met with the pretty sight of your pussy and thighs glistening in your slick arousal. Looking back up at you his gaze darkened as he gave small kisses against your thigh.

You gasp as you watch his head disappear between your legs. The heat of his mouth nearing your pussy he licks small stripes against your clit before he sensually licks from your entrance to your clit, and sucking on your clit with fervor.

You moan as your head falls back and your fingers find their way to his hair. The sounds you make are so pleasurable to his ears. He presses his nose on your clit, inhaling your scent deeply before his tongue dives inside your waiting pussy. You pull onto his hair, writhing against his face.

"Oh fuck" you manage to whimper out you tug at his hair as he groaned, your eyes shut as you "please fuck me with your fingers" you moan neediness dripping from your tone. His hand moving from your plush thighs, his thumb rubbing harsh circles on your clit he pulled away licking your clit once more his middle and ring fingers make way to your entrance.

Pushing in slowly you groan at the penetration, easing your tight walls around his thick fingers as he pushes them deeper you feel the cold metal on his rings all the way at the knuckles of his fingers as it grounds you from the euphoric feeling.

Pulling his head away he looks up at you with your juices on his swollen lips and on his chin his fingers begin to move opening your eyes you look down at him feeling his gaze as he watches you react gasping as the feeling you grind down against his fingers "you like that? Don't you?" He says as he licks your essence off of his lips.

His hair now disheveled as his cheeks were heating up, yet if it weren't for the lights casting off the billboard into his bedroom you would see his raging blush. you nod eagerly "yeah? You want me to go faster for you?" He coos feeling you clench around him at the sound of his lewd words.

"Say it" he demanded, making you clench harder "yes please- please go faster Juyeon" you say losing your mind on his fingers as you absentmindedly grind down on his.He hums as he watches his finger get sucked inside of you. Moaning at the sight with sparkling eyes. His fingers hitting all the right places stuffing your pussy as the sloppy sounds of his fingers pounding into you as if you were his personal fuck toy.

"So good just for me right?" He asks as his tongue finds its way back to your clit, he looks up at you choking on your moans "yes" you say feeling a familiar pressure build in the pit of your stomach. "I'm so close" you whimper.

sending tingles down your body before he licked big stripes of your cunt, sucking on your clit, his tongue working wonders on you. "Cum for me" he says possessively. Your hips grind against his face as the feeling of his fingers so deep inside you curling had you gasping for air desperately.

His thumb replacing his tongue as he rubs circles on your clit, your hips shake as your mind is clouded with the sudden rush of your orgasm. You let out an almost pornographic moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you until you ride out your high.

"So good" he coos as you grip his wrist as overstimulation starts to creep in. Waiting for you to come down he slowly removes his fingers as he is eager to taste you.

Juyeon's dripping fingers make their way up to your clit as his mouth makes its descent to your puffy lips. he pushes his heavy fingers on your clit as he adorns your lips with light pecks and kitten licks before using his free hand to pull them apart and licking your entrance. his mouth sucks hard in its endeavor to taste all of you.

Your hips buck at the feeling the sloppy sounds make your head spin. one of your hands moves to grip the hair on the back of his head and you push his face into yourself even more "oh god" you say shivering at the feeling. Pulling away his eyes look up at you while his lips attach themselves to your thigh, he bites and sucks the skin on your thigh in different spots leaving red and purple spots to bloom into hickeys as the hours pass.

Pulling away he lifts his fingers still covered in your cum up to his lips sucking on them becoming addicted to the way you taste. Licking whatever remnants of cum was left on his plump lips "You taste so good" he mumbled as you pulled away from him getting a good look at his body that sat against the mattress fully clothed showing the tent in pants that seemed to grow. And once your eyes meet the bulge your eyes visibly widen.

"Your turn" you mumbled as your hands worked on his belt "my turn?" Juyeon asks with curiosity growing in his eyes. "To strip" you whisper as you succeed to pull his belt out of the loops. "Get up. Don't just leave me hanging like that" you giggle as you see his flustered gaze. You were being serious.

#𖦹—( neo percs )#the boyz smut #juyeon smut #juyeon x reader #juyeon imagines #sunwoo smut #kevin moon smut #eric sohn smut

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samgelina-jolie · 1 year

Text

It all started a week ago. Steve had come along to The Hideout, decked in his darkest polo shirt. It was the first gig he'd come to since him and Eddie had officially- as Robin put it- 'got their shit together'.

Steve had met the band plenty of times already, and while they'd been pretty standoffish at first, he liked to think he got along with them pretty well. Jeff actually shared a similar taste in music (even admitting to liking ABBA because it reminded him of his mother) and he'd known enough about Star Wars and a mix of Dustin's interests to win over Seth. It was harder to read Gareth, but Steve had assumed they were at least acquaintances.

That was until Steve had walked up to the bar where Gareth was talking to some girl, and then Gareth had said the meanest thing imaginable.

"He's my buddy's boyfriend."

Eddie hadn't seen what the big deal was. But Steve understood the importance of befriending your partner's best friend.

Well, back in high school, Steve had never really bothered with his girlfriend's friends. He'd focused on putting in effort with the girls he found attractive, wooing them with flowers and gifts. The girls who he wanted to like him did, he didn't really care how much the other girls didn't. The only job the best friend really had in his mind was picking up the pieces after he left those girls in the dust.

That was all before Nancy, of course. She'd been so adamant about him making an impression on Barb, so he'd tried. He invited her to parties, kept Carol and Tommy off her back, even tried to back her up once or twice when Barb and Nancy were bickering.

And it worked out... kind of. Barb had still rolled her eyes whenever Steve opened his mouth, but she was also the one who pulled him aside and saved him a whole lot of embarrassment and heartache.

"I'm telling you this because I would want to know, and because I guess you're not the worst person in the world. Nancy has been hanging out with Jonathan a lot lately... I just think maybe you should pay a bit more attention to it."

But besides him and Nancy as a couple not working out, he'd realised how important being on good terms with the person you're dating's friends is to being a good boyfriend. Which is why it was integral that he became proper friends with Eddie's best friend.

"What are you wearing?"

Steve had just walked into the Munson trailer. He'd spent nearly an hour trying to perfect his hair, so he's mildly offended that his outfit is the first thing his boyfriend noticed. Steve glanced down at his shirt with the huge Green Day logo printed onto it. He wasn't sure why Eddie looked so appalled, it wasn't dirty or anything.

"Oh, Gareth let me borrow it. Cute right?" Eddie's nose scrunched up even further, full on glaring at the offensive item.

"I can't let you into my room with that shirt on."

"Well hopefully once we get to your room neither of us will have our shirts on" Steve chuckled, leaning in for a kiss but Eddie turned his head.

"I'm serious, big boy. The polos and tight jeans, you're whole hot preppy look actually, that all really does it for me and you know it. But this?" He pulled at the fabric of the shirt. "This is the one piece of clothing I never want to see you in."

Steve scoffed. Eddie pushed him gently away with a shake of his head.

"I'm turning off the benefits."

"What benefits?"

"The sex benefits, no more sex until you admit you're not a Green Day fan and we burn that shirt."

"Eddie this is my in with Gareth! He's finally starting to warm up to me." Steve whined. "Besides, you can't just, like, turn off us having sex!"

"Oh yes I can. All I have to do is think about you in this abominable outfit and my boner just-" He whistles, imitating his finger deflating. Steve pouted. He knew rationally he could just give Gareth back the shirt, but that would mean embarrassingly admitting he didn't like Green Day to Gareth and then trying to find another in with him.

So no, Eddie was just being unreasonable.

Anyway, he was totally bluffing about the sex. Steve hoped.

"It's been five days Robin! I mean, we haven't gone that long without having sex since.. since we started having sex!" Steve cried, following the woman around as she restocked the shelves. Even though he couldn't see her face he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

It was a serious situation though, at least in Steve's opinion. He and Eddie hung out all the time, and while he obviously enjoyed doing other things with his boyfriend, he wished the other man would at least have the decency to not be so sexy while performing daily tasks. Steve had been this close to jumping him in the frozen food section of the grocery store yesterday.

And he knew he wasn't the only desperate one, Eddie was suffering too. Obviously he'd assumed Steve would cave after a day, because he'd been all jumpy and grouchy for nearly a week. And he kept making that face that Steve recognised all too well whenever Steve did anything even slightly suggestive. Like when he'd bent down to put his laundry in the dryer, and when he turned back around Eddie was beet red and avoiding eye contact.

"Have you tried breaking out the old Harrington seduction techniques yet?" Robin shrugged, obviously not bothered by the fact her best friend was on the verge of death due to lack-of-sex-with-his-really-hot-boyfriend disease.

The thing was, he had tried his old methods. He tried wearing tighter shirts, that strained around his arms and showed off his midriff (but always making sure he was wearing some kind of Green Day memorabilia, because damn him if he wasn't going to be right about this). He'd invited Eddie along to his and Lucas' basketball game. He even tried straight up begging, knowing how much that usually gets Eddie worked up.

And nothing!

Although, there was still one move he hadn't tried yet...

"You want to what?" Eddie shot him an incredulous look.

"Help you study, of course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't help you with your problems? Besides I have this really neat method to help you revise." Steve let himself into the trailer and Eddie's room. He wasn't wearing a Green Day shirt today, but he did have a wristband, something he knew Eddie had spotted already as he walked into the room with his arms crossed.

"Right. And what method would this be?"

"Every time you get an answer right, I take off a item of clothing, and vice versa." Steve plopped himself down on the unmade bed, which he'd missed dearly. Eddie hadn't even let them take naps together in his room, insisting 'spooning almost always leads to sex with you'.

Eddie considered his offer carefully, before nodding with a shit eating grin. Steve cheered internally.

"Great!" Steve smiled before adding "Your rings all count as one item by the way." He tried not to look too smug at the way Eddie's confident grin faltered.

The game reached its boiling point very quick. Eddie had known more about Geography then Steve had expected, which reflected in the fact he only had his boxers and one sock left on. Eddie, however, wasn't doing too much better, sat in only his jeans (and Steve suspected no underwear underneath).

He's not sure who kissed who first, but suddenly Steve was pressed against the mattress, Eddie's thigh between his legs. Excitement coursed through him, his body so receptive to Eddie's touch after so long he wasn't even embarrassed at the noises he was letting out. His hips bucked up, causing Eddie to groan into his mouth.

"So the Green Day thing?" Eddie mumbled between kisses down Steve's neck. The noise Steve made was loud and high pitched, almost drowning out the man's next words. "It's over then?"

Steve paused, the hand that had been trailing down his boyfriend's chest pushed firmly against him as he pulled away.

"Over because you've let it go, right?" He mumbled. Eddie pulled back, his lips red and glossy.

"No, over because you let it go?" Steve huffed, sitting up and pulling his clothes back on. He tugged his jeans on in annoyance, storming out of the bedroom.

"You know what, I'm turning off the benefits now! No sex until you admit Green Day are better than... than Dio!" Steve yelled. He was irritated and extremely worked up but he was also incredibly stubborn. He heard a squawk of protest from behind him as he made his way outside.

"That wasn't even the rule!" Eddie called out, but Steve ignored him. He was not loosing this fight.

Listen, Metal music was fine, Steve endured listening to it with Eddie like he endured watching sports games with Steve. He was content in the knowledge that not loving every single one of each other's interest didn't mean they didn't love each other.

Punk was fine too, it still wasn't Steve's thing really, but it was okay and while Steve couldn't tell the difference, according to Gareth there was one. A huge one, if the way he'd been ranting about it for the past hour was anything to go by.

But between fighting with his boyfriend (because it was a genuine fight at this point), not having any sex for nearly two weeks, and being stuck listening to someone talk about something you have no interest in for hours, Steve couldn't take it anymore.

"I don't like punk music! I listen to Queen and Cyndi Lauper and sometimes Madonna and happy music that I can dance to without thinking about America's political landscape!" He blurted out. Gareth stopped his rambling about how Rob Harper was a better drummer than Pete Something, flashing Steve a confused expression.

"Then why were you pretending to?" He asked.

"I... I just didn't want you to just see me as 'Eddie's boyfriend'. I wanted to be your friend and Jeff told me you like punk music so I brought it up and..."

"Look, you are Eddie's boyfriend. Yeah, you're an okay dude, but I can acknowledge that without us having to do the whole friendship thing too, you know?" Gareth shrugged. Steve deflated.

"Right." He said, quickly making an excuse and leaving. Gareth shrugged off the weird feeling the guy's sad puppy dog eyed had given him, grabbing Steve's fries.

He felt kind of embarrassed that he'd been talking for ages with someone who didn't even care. He supposed it was nice of Steve to make the effort, Gareth wasn't aware he'd been trying so hard honestly. Jeff and Seth had warmed up to him pretty quickly but he thought that was just because they were just softies that were no immune to the 'Harrington Charm'.

"Steve?!" A loud yell startled him out of his thoughts.

Eddie stormed into the bar, wearing- holy shit, Gareth felt like he must have hit his head and started hallucinating. This day had taken such a weird turn, because there Eddie Munson stood before him decked out in a 'I heart Green Day' shirt. He also looked like it was taking every ounce of self control not to rip it off his body like it burned.

"Finally come around on the punk scene, Munson?" Gareth chortled. Eddie threw a fry at his face.

"Shut your trap, I need to find Steve before one of the gremlins sees me in this, they're too impressionable." He muttered, taking a seat as he looked around the bar.

"If this is a Steve thing you can stop anyway man, he admitted he doesn't really like them that much. It's kind of weird I mean, who lies about being into something to get someone to like them?"

"Dude, I spent the whole summer eating ice cream as a lactose intolerant person because Steve worked at Scoops Ahoy. He was just trying to find something for you to be friends about." Eddie shot him an unimpressed look, which Gareth thought was a bit high-and-mighty considering he just admitted to basically poisoning himself on a weekly basis for a guy he'd thought was straight at the time.

"Why exactly?"

"I don't know, Steve likes being close to people? He's basically besties with his ex girlfriend, man. Why are you so adamant he can't be yours?" Gareth considered this.

He remembered when Eddie had first told the band he was dating Steve Harrington. They'd all thought he was kidding, but there he was at their next rehearsal, cheering them on and spending his breaks holding Eddie's hand.

Gareth thought maybe it was a joke to Steve. Messing with the guy who likes men by making him think he has a shot with the former prom king. He thought it would end with Eddie in tears, and that had probably made him a bit more defensive than he needed to be. Maybe there was a small part of him, no matter how great Steve seemed, that still believed the guy was setting his best friend up for heartbreak.

"Look, I get that you might have reservations about him. But all I'm saying is- and I've got about a dozen preschoolers and multiple full grown adults that would back me up- Steve Harrington is a pretty great friend to have. So if he offers you friendship, you should take it." Eddie snatched a handful of fries as he got up, leaving Gareth alone at the bar.

Steve was half way out the door, wearing nothing but Eddie's Dio vest and grey sweatpants when he saw Eddie. He was standing in front of him, eyeing Steve like a starved man presented with a stake. Steve guessed he probably had a similar look, smiling at the Green Day shirt the man was wearing.

"Oh my god take your pants off." Eddie basically growled, slamming the front door to Steve's house shut as he stalked towards him. He pulled Steve into a ferocious kiss, hands quickly travelling down to his ass.

"Leave the shirt on." Steve gasped out. Eddie let out a muffled groan into his neck. They ran to the bedroom, loosing the vest and both of their pants on the way.

"Steve? You home, man?" Gareth heard a loud noise inside, followed by hopping, then Steve opened the door slightly. He was sweaty and shirtless, and his hair was a mess. He'd probably just been working out or whatever jocks did in their spare time.

"Listen, I'm sorry about what I said at the bar. You're a cool guy, I'd like for us to be friends, really. I even thought of something we could bond over; haircare. I've actually been meaning to ask you for some tips anyway." He admitted. Steve beamed, Gareth was almost scared the incredibly sweaty man was about to pull him into a hug. He didn't, he just kept smiling.

"That's real nice for you two, maybe next he'll ask you to prom!" Eddie's voice rang out from somewhere behind the door. Steve flushed a little and hushed him. Gareth was kind of confused as to why Eddie voice sounded so coarse and breathless, he didn't think Eddie had ever voluntarily exercised in his life.

"I would really like that, Gareth. I'll tell you everything you need to know, come by anytime. Except right now." He smiled again before slamming the door. Gareth heard more noises inside, wondering what the fuck they were up to until he heard a loud moan. Oh God, Gareth started running.

Still, he couldn't help but smile. It was always nice to make more friends.

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toast-the-unknowing · 5 months

Text

on fanfic plagiarism

Almost five years ago, in January of 2019, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "Word on the Street," had been plagiarized.

I remember that the stolen fic was posted in k-pop fandom, though not what specific band it related to -- I'm not into k-pop, or really into pop music at all.

I remember that the person who messaged me told me that they had found my fic because the plagiarist had a reputation for stealing fic, so when they'd posted a new story, this person had known to do some digging.

I don't remember what the plagiarist's username was. I remember scanning the stolen story, trying both to read every detail and to avoiding taking any of it in, because looking at that right-but-wrong, not-quite-there, uncanny-valley-ness of it made me queasy.

I remember being darkly amused that the plagiarist had cut out the reference to the main character suffering physical abuse at the hands of his father -- I guess it didn't make sense in the context of the new character. It's almost like the story wasn't written for him. It's almost like someone wrote the story about Adam Parrish, instead.

I filed an AO3 complaint, on the grounds that this was a blatant and unarguable violation of their plagiarism policy. Within twenty-four hours, they got back to me, and the story was removed.

It was a weird, uncomfortable, gross feeling, knowing someone had taken words I'd written and passed them off as their own.

But at the same time -- "Word on the Street" was a silly thing I dashed off pretty quickly, during a period of my life when I was doing a lot of writing. It hurt to have it stolen. It was a violation. But…I had other words, that were more important to me. Maybe that was a buffer.

Last month, about six weeks ago, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "there's talk going 'round this town," had been plagiarized.

I was, bizarrely, amused.

I was less bizarrely furious. I was understandably, relatably, I would say rationally, furious. But in a way (and as always, when I say in a way, I am calling back to the scholars of overthinkingit.com for whom in a way is meant as the thing I have just said or am about to say is false) -- in a way, I was amused.

The plagiarist clearly did a 'find and replace' on the character names, to replace Adam and Ronan's names with those of k-pop characters. They did a bad job of it, since the name "Ronan" still appears in one paragraph and the name "Parrish" still appears in two paragraphs. The fic is here, in case anyone doesn't believe me, under the name "i do(n't remember)". At first when I complained about the fic on tumblr, I didn't mention the name, or which fic they'd stolen, because I was worried about anyone…I don't know, making a scene. I've stopped caring. AO3 user springguk is bad at find and replace and they should feel bad. About their computer skills, and also about their blatant plagiarism.

springguk also did some more edits to my fic, I have to give them credit for that. I wrote "there's talk going 'round this town" within a relatively short time span, for me. I tend to either finish things within one week, or else take several months. I believe this one took about five or six weeks completely to write -- I was very inspired.

(I was inspired, specifically, by the press coverage of Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves 'discovering' they might be 'accidentally' married. I mention that in my author's notes. springguk doesn't mention what 'inspired' them in their author's notes. I wonder how they talk about it with friends. They do, in their author's notes, include a link to their ko-fi, and a request that people buy them a coffee.)

If I'd taken longer with this fic, I might have made some edits. Even at the time, I knew I was being self-indulgent in letting the scene with my teenage female OC talk at such length with Ronan about what his non-canonical film career had meant to her, a person the audience didn't care about. But I had fun. I liked Fox. I didn't want to cut her, and what the hell, it was fanfic. I decided to self-indulge.

I was darkly amused to find that springguk did cut out the scene with Fox from their plagiarized version. Maybe springguk is a more disciplined editor than I am. Maybe springguk just didn't have a good k-pop character to map Fox onto. Maybe springguk didn't even realize that Fox was an OC. Do you know anything about the fandom you steal fics from, springguk? I can't help but wonder. Have you read The Raven Cycle? Do you care about teenage OCs who steal cars because of fake films that are clearly meant to be stand-ins for The Fast and the Furious franchise?

Maybe springguk just didn't give a fuck, because none of their heart and soul was poured into this fic. I cared too much about Fox. springguk doesn't care about a single word in the fic they published. Why would they? They didn't write it.

I'm being a little mean in naming them so many times. But I'm able to, this time, because although I filed a plagiarism complaint with AO3 six weeks ago, springguk's stolen fic "i do(n't remember)," is still available to read on AO3 to this very day. I don't have to wrack my brains to remember what their username was, or which k-pop band they recast my work with. I can just look at their fic with its 24 comments and 151 kudos. Hell, maybe that fic is even better than mine, if you don't mind that by cutting the sequence with Fox they've sacrificed a fairly substantial development in the romantic relationship, and also if you don't care that at one point the characters names switch from Jeongguk and Taehyung to Ronan and Parrish, because seriously, for fuck's sake, if you're going to steal a fic at least do a goddamn ctrl+f at the end.

I was mad. I was amused. I made a complaint that the AO3, six weeks later, has still not acted on. I mostly moved on.

Tonight, someone I'd never met before reached out to tell me that one of my Pynch fics, "while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now," had been plagiarized.

I wanted to vomit.

I was supposed to be playing Dungeons and Dragons online with friends tonight; I spent the entire call unable to focus on anything anyone was saying. I had to keep reminding myself that I was on camera and my face wasn't supposed to look like that.

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is the first of a series of, currently, twelve fics. skytoseungmin, the person who stole it to pass it off as their own work, knew this. Their stolen version was published as part one of a series, though they hadn't published any of the sequels. Presumably, they wanted to wait long enough to make it plausible they'd gone and written the follow ups, instead of just finding them.

skytoseungmin likely didn't know that this fic and this series are intensely personal. They didn't know that the apartment that Adam -- Seungmin, in their ill-gotten version -- lives in, that was based in part off of the apartment I lived in for a year in Pico-Robertson with talldecafcappuccino. They didn't know that the 7-Eleven Adam buys coffee at is the same one I used to tease talldecafcappuccino for buying coffee at. They didn't know that the strip club where Adam and Ronan have their humorously ill-timed romantic revelation outside of, that was the strip club I used to use as a landmark when giving people directions for how to navigate the confusing as fuck freeway exit I lived near, which once caused me to accidentally tell my highly Catholic parents "just go past the strip club and you're good!"

skytoseungmin didn't know that the apartment Adam -- sorry, Seungmin, thoroughly, they were better with find and replace than springguk -- lived in, was also based off of my ex's apartment in Palms, where I as the mere visiting girlfriend was never allowed to park in the parking lot. Where I would sometimes have to spend twenty or thirty minutes circling the neighborhood before I could find parking, often a walk of several minutes away. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when Ronan's car get towed from a McDonald's parking lot, that that was a specific McDonald's on Venice Boulevards, the same one my ex's asshole roommate used to just roll his eyes and say that I should park at. skytoseungmin doesn't know that I once wished passionately that I had just parked in that McDonald's parking lot and risked getting towed, on the occasion that a man followed me several unlit blocks from my car. skytoseungmin doesn't know that when I talk about how helping someone park is the truest love language there is in Los Angeles, that that was what I meant. Has skytoseungmin ever had to circle to half an hour to find parking in Los Angeles? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone enough to do that, instead of saying, fuck it, they can come to me or we're breaking up? Has skytoseungmin ever loved someone in Los Angeles enough, to do as my ex did, and come running as fast as humanly possibly when their girlfriend called them whispering and crying on the phone, someone's following me, please, I'm scared, I wish I just parked at the McDonald's?

"while we're on the subject, could we change the subject now" is a very personal fic.

It isn't half as personal as some of the fics that come after.

skytoseungmin marked their plagiarized version of the fic as part one of a series. Were they planning on stealing part two, where I, through an alternate universe characterization of Ronan Lynch, dig into my experience of grief and trauma surrounding my grandmother's dementia? Were they planning on stealing any of the explicit fics, where I play with kink and desire in ways I haven't even exposed to my actual sexual partners, but where I felt able to through the guise of fandom? What else was skytoseungmin planning on stealing, with charming little author's notes apologizing for how they missed the fandom-relevant date they were shooting for, because they were so busy with exams, tee-hee! Why the excuses, skytoseungmin? how long does it take you to ctrl+f, even if you are more thorough about it than springguk?

If I seem too accusatory and mean-spirited toward skytoseungmin, well, the LA verse is a very personal fic.

And it's also, it turns out, only one of eight different fics that they stole from me.

I didn't even notice at first, to be honest. I was too stunned. But my friend Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went to my defense and clicked through to the author's page, while I was still reeling at the horrible possibilities of part one of a series. It turned out, of eight fics on skytoseungmin's author's page…I had written every single one of them.

Some were short and pretty lighthearted, things I hadn't had to invest too much of myself into -- like I said, sometimes, I can write a fic in under a week.

Other things…

They stole the space western AU.

I don't think I can articulate to any human being how much that hurt me, to look at it, to see.

I wrote that as a thank you gift for someone who donated to Fandom Trumps Hate.

I spent nearly two years of my life on it -- two years during which, because of mental health issues and life situation changes, my words per year dropped precipitously. I still haven't recovered. I still think of what a failure I am for not writing more, currently, actively, and I remember how the space western AU was both a symptom of that and a defiance of it: yes, writing has become fucking hard, fucking NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE, but I'm still doing it, goddamn it, you can't stop me, even if all I produce is the tiniest trickle of words a month. it can still add up, somehow, if we just keep TRYING.

To see the space western AU, casually nestled amongst a half dozen other fics that were all apparently casually dashed off in the same month…I know it was theft, I know it was a lie, but it still felt like a slap in the face, why can't you write this fast?

Jessie, my Lady Galahad, went on a campaign of commenting on all of skytoseungmin's (my) fics, and I am so thankful. The k-pop fans who heard Jessie have been reaching out, to her, to me, to each other on Twitter, and I am so thankful for them too. skytoseungmin has deleted all of their (my) fics on AO3, and their entire AO3 account, and their entire twitter, apparently. Maybe they were hoping to get enough clicks to parlay them into some kind of book deal, and they'd now rather give up what was a low investment effort on their part than be associated with accusation of plagiarism.

I suppose they can always start over with a new user name and someone else's fics if they really want to.

I suppose they can always start over with a new username and my fics, if they really want to.

And after all, AO3 has still not reached out to me about springguk, and "i do(n't remember)" is still sitting there. Maybe springguk is also going for a book deal. Who knows?

Why complain about any of it?

In a way* (and remember what "in a way" means), isn't it a compliment, if someone loves the words I wrote, even if they don't know it was me that wrote them? toast-the-unknowing and shinealightonme, if they're the same name (and they are), then why not springguk or skytoseungmin, too?

Am I making too big of a deal out of this? Does everyone just have their work stolen from them, all of the time? Is that simply the cost of doing business in an era and an ecosystem where we all can copy and paste twenty-four thousand words with greater ease than our ancestors could transcribe a single phrase? Are more prolific, more famous, more successful fan authors looking at my piteous cries and thinking, bitch, you've only been ripped off by k-pop fans ten times, come back when you have real problems?

And yet in a month, a year, a whole life phase of not being able to write as much as I would like to, because of my health, because of my work, to have someone else just casually pass off the words I have managed to eke out, as though they have no value, as though it were no more than photo copying a shitty flier to stick under a windshield wiper…

I can't imagine springguk or skytoseungmin give a shit how I feel about any of this. At best, they roll their eyes; at worst they laugh to know they hurt me -- and what's the difference between the two? I'll never know either way.

I know that some of the people they duped do care, and are also upset. That helps. And also, it doesn't help.

I just fucking hate all of this, and if all I have are words, and if my words are valuable enough for someone to steal, then here, here are enough of them to choke on. I know I did.

#long post #fandom #plagiarism #that whole plagiarism thing

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florvaine · 10 months

Text

pretty kitty.

Hobie is a little a little too excited to see you at another robbery. (afab! black cat! reader)

genre: fluff, nsfw mentions

warnings: nsfw mentions, teasing, swearing, stealing, throat grabbing, binding (is that the right word?).

-—- “WE AIN’T DOIN’ THIS AGAIN, DOLLFACE,” His raspy, London accent rings around the large jewellery store, “We both know you don’t like hidin’ from me, yeah?”

With his mask now pulled off of his face, wicks bouncing free from the confines of the spikey-mohawk on top of his mask, he looks around with his hands in his leather jacket’s pockets. He twitches his nose, spinning around in his spot a few times - slowly surveying the area.

Hobie was, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, waiting for another call in of a robbery. With the chance of it being you that he had to ‘take down’. Something in the way you seemed almost fueled by his remarks, or the way your hips swayed with each calculated step, he knew why you were called ‘Black Cat’.

Sly, quiet, flexible and complete and utter bad luck.

But if you were bad luck, why weren’t his senses going haywire?

A silky voice responds, “But where’s the fun in that? I’d rather hide in plain sight and watch you try find me like a little puppy.”

Hobie has to stop his lashes from fluttering close, looking up to meet eyes with you. Underneath the black latex mask (that he regularly made fun of; ‘why have a mask if it doesn’t cover anything?’ He’d say) your e/c eyes crinkled as you smile.

“C’mon, as much as I love the idea of takin’ from the rich, you gotta return that shit.” Hobie points at the black velvet bag dangling from your belt.

You pout, and the man almost feels bad, “I thought you liked our little run-ins, you seemed pretty eager to come,”

Hobie’s mind goes straight into the gutter; he suppresses a groan.

You drop down from the ceiling, upright and running a finger along his jawline from your close proximity, “What about a chase, hm? You like those.”

Hobie’s held tilts in the direction your finger runs, a thin, silver point making it’s way along his supple skin and tracing his adam’s apple, whilst your e/c eyes look up at him. His tongue runs against his lip ring, the hoop shifting slightly.

“Will that get you to return everything, kitty?” His eyes lower to your lips, back up to your eyes and then they closed tightly with a hiss as you left a miniscule cut beside his adams apple.

His burnt-auburn eyes open again, and now you’re in the doorway across the room, leaning against it with the velvet pouch in your hand. A golden-banded ring with a large diamond in the middle is plucked between your thumb and pointer finger. Your eyes drag across the shimmering jewellery and flicker up to him.

The ring is now back in the bag, and you take of running with a chuckle. It’s around this time Hobie sighs, a smirk on his lips as he yanks his mask back on, a web sticking above the doorway to accelerate his speed.

The jewellery store is open, but practically everything inside is fragile. He notes this, a few extra layers of precaution filter through his body, checking his movements before he does anything.

A streak of black from your form-fitting suit dances across his vision through the door to the left of the hallway you were previously in. The sound of a hollow metal rings through his ears before he enters after you, and he stops at the sight of three metal barrels on the floor.

Ahead of him, turning around from him with a grin on your face, you turn around and continue running away from him. A flight of stairs ascends from the end of the hallway, exactly where you’re headed.

He huffs, vaulting over them, “Really? Barrels? God, that’s cliché of you.” He snarks quietly, outstreching his hand as a thick string of web shoots out towards you.

The web misses, splatting against the wall to the right of your body at shoulder height.

“All you got, Hobie?” You say. His name rolls off the tip of your tongue, and it sounds like music to his ears.

The man bites back a quip, aiming and shooting another web in your direction

The thwip of his web is the first thing you hear, and then it’s the feeling of it latching onto your forearm as your tugged backwards.

A small sound is released from your lips and you lean backwards to try break, but only to go against the his web on the other side of you. The bag is clutched in your free hand, and the drawstring to the pouch is quickly moved to dangle out of your teeth as you use the silver claws on the tips of your fingers to cut the web.

It works, but rather slowly as Hobie’s a lot closer to you now. You pull the drawstring back into your right hand, turning back around and dodging another web that he shot your way.

“We always do this, Y/n. It always ends the same.” He calls, and the exciting thing is you knew exactly what it meant.

With extra fuel, you reach and open the door ahead with ease, looking back to see Hobie just seconds away from the door. He slings yet another web in your direction, but you close the door just in time.

The web hits the doorframe and the door, sticking it together - and with all the speed he had gained - Hobie couldn’t slow down in time.

A loud bang follows you shutting the door, and you wince, jogging up the stairs with the clicking of your chunky heeled boots. The jewellery clinks with each step you take.

Hobie’s spitting curses as he pulls at the webbing on the door, and a thought passes your mind. Eyes looking back at the door at the bottom of the stairs, you smile.

The taller of the two of you finally manages to pry the door open, his mask discarded in his pocket as blood drips down from his right nostil.

He takes a breath, then bolts up the stairs with something new shining behind his eyes.

“Kitty,” He calls once he passes the open door that lead to the roof.

It’s a clear night, and the jewellery store is beside and opposite over taller buildings with less pretty exterior. The stars are bright, the moon in a waxing crescent. Fresh air and the sounds of cars below filter through the air.

His hands aren’t in his pockets rather dangling at his side, and there’s blood spilling from his nose, running over each indent and crack in his lips and smudged at his chin. Eyes squinted slightly, he catches sight of you crouched on the edge of a railing.

You turn to run, but his web is faster. A new force applied to both of your wrists drags you back, a squeal leaving your mouth as you’re pulled towards him. Your back meets his chest, and you huff with a small smile, trying to hide your enjoyment.

His hand raises to your throat, a gentle squeeze that left your mind running circles. His tilts your head upwards, and you meet his gaze.

“You see what ya’ve done, hm?” His eyes scan yours before they move to your wrists bound behind your back.

Something about that picture causes a reaction in his lower stomach.

You hum, “I can see it, looks pretty hot to me.” Voice husky and low, you reply.

“Might look hot but it hurts a lot, dollface.” He trails his other hand across your forehead, moving a few loose strands back behind your ears.

“You should see someone for that, get some painkillers.”

“Why don’t you distract from the pain, huh? I don’t have any painkillers on me now, but you’re right here. Plus, you did this to me.” His hand lowers from your throat to the base of you neck, and with your wrists still bound, he lowers his head down to the place where your shoulder and neck meet.

His lips kiss gently at the skin, before he bites and nibbles at each free spot of skin you had on show above your collarbones. Each time his lips meet the flesh of your neck you let out a sound - a groan, a breath or a light moan.

Through your rushing thoughts and whispered sounds you speak, “You know the bag is in the stairway, right?”

He hums against your skin, tongue running over his most recent hickey like a cat grooming itself.

“I did, I saw it,” His mouth moves up to your ear to whisper, “I just wanted you.”

His lips meet yours, and the taste of metal fills your senses. His lip ring is cool against your warming connection, and you can feel his tongue sliding against your lips to tease you. You can feel his hips roll forwards into you, and you activity have to stop yourself from whimpering as you feel him.

“This is gonna be a long night, ain’t it, kitty?” He whispers against your lips.

-—-

#*{ ‘. florawrites<3 #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #across the spiderverse #atsv hobie #spiderman x reader #atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #female reader #fluff #smut?

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arc-misadventures · 3 months

Text

The Beach: B

Jaune: Haa… that was something…

: What was something?

Jaune: Ahh?! What the…?! Oh, it’s just you, Blake. You startled me.

Blake: Sorry, but what’s wrong?

Jaune: Nothing to really… Wow… You’re looking great, Blake.

Blake: Oh… D-Do I…?

Jaune: You look very sexy!

Blake: O-Oh… T-Thank you…

Jaune: I don’t mean to… insinuate anything… But, since when were you soooo… filled out?

Blake: ‘Filled out?’

Jaune: …

Jaune: Thic…

Blake: Oh!

Jaune: I mean… I don’t remember you being so… full bodied.

Blake: T-Thank you… It must be because of my outfit… I mean, it’s a one piece bodysuit. It’s pretty tight so it probably makes me look pretty slim.

Jaune: ‘Pretty slim?’ I thought you were a B-Cup those are at least E-Cup!

Blake: And, tell me, Jaune: Is that a bad thing~?

Jaune: …

Jaune: N-No comment…

Blake: Fufufu~! So, tell me; what was this ‘something’ you spoke of?

Jaune: Nahh… Your teammates keep telling me what their favourite kinks are…

Blake: Their kinks…?

Jaune: Yeah…

Blake: And, they are…?

Jaune: You really want to know?

Blake: I’m curious, besides I know about, Ruby’s interest in tentacle porn. Can be much worse than that.

Jaune: How did you know that?

Blake: I found her ‘hidden stash.’ I’m not into such things myself, but they were quite spicy~!

Jaune: Well, she wants me to tie her up with rubber bands, and have my way with her; Did you know about that?

Blake: I know she was looking for rubber bands, I didn’t know why at the time, but now I know why. And, I must say, kinky~!

Jaune: Not to me it is…

Blake: What about, Yang?

Jaune: Brother complex. And, I’m the brother…

Blake: Really?

Jaune: Yeah. I have enough perverted sisters at home, I don’t need to deal with another one.

Blake: But, if you played, Yang’s little fantasy. You could play out some of your own sibling fantasies.

Jaune: …

Jaune: Weiss is a sub, and wants me to dominate her.

Blake: …

Blake: She’s a sub…? I thought she’d have a daddy kink.

Jaune: So did I. But, because of how much of an ass her father was to her, she didn’t like her father so the idea of a daddy kink to her is absolutely revolting. Actually, she almost went gay because of him.

Blake: But?

Jaune: But, because of her father being a complete asshole, and all the threats her father received because of what he’s done, she did some research to understand what their threats were about, and stumbled down the rabbit hole. And well, long story short she wants me to bound, and gage her, and have my way with her…

Blake: Wow…

Jaune: Yeah…

Blake: I did not… I did not expect that…

Jaune: Same. But, hey you two could probably get together, and talk about your shared kinks. So team bounding moments, yay!

Blake: I’m not into that.

Jaune: Y-You’re not…?

Blake: Nope.

Jaune: Really, I thought you did; Those, ‘Ninjas of Love’ books are filled with that stuff, and don’t you love that series?

Blake: Well, I do like the books, but I’ve… wait… H-How do you know what those books are about…?

Jaune: I proofread them for my sister.

Blake: Sister…? Your sister is, Catherine Mystique?!

Jaune: Technically her real name is, Janette Arc. The one on the books is just her pen name.

Blake: Oh… I-I didn’t know that.

Blake: …

Blake: Do you think…?

Jaune: I’ll get her autograph for you.

Blake: Yes!

Jaune: But, back to my previous question.

Blake: Hmm… Oh! Yeah… You remember, Adam, Adam Taurus?

Jaune: That male yangdere?

Blake: Yeah, so before I ran away to, Beacon he tied me up like in the books, because he thought I would like it. It was uncomfortable to say the least.

Jaune: Because he’s a crazy?

Blake: Well… he knocked me out, and then tied me up hanging from the ceiling so yeah… you can say it was because he was crazy. Luckily I managed to use my semblance to break out, and I ran for the hills, well, Beacon. You understand.

Jaune: I’d rather not, but no matter. So… I hate to ask… but, if you’re not into bondage, or other stuff like that, then what are you into?

Blake: A-Are you asking me what my kink is?

Jaune: Yeeeeeees…? I’m curious, okay?

Blake: Well, I suppose after our little conversation you can’t help, but be a little curious. So, to answer your question: Raceplay.

Jaune: Raceplay? Like… human x faunas?

Blake: Yep.

Jaune: Is this a, White Fang thing?

Blake: No… well… kinda? Look, I joined the, White Fang to create equality between humans, and faunas. For me that was to stop discrimination between the pair, and stopped all the things the, SDC were doing to us. I was never the hardcore kill all humans kind of person. I was however… I was a member of the secret club called the… HAA.

Jaune: HAA?

Blake: …

Blake: Human Addicts Anonymous.

Jaune: Say what now?

Blake: We were just a group of hormonal faunas girls who really had the hots of strong human males. Most of the faunas boys around us were so pathetic, but those humans~! They had such strong commanding presence to them that demand our attention! I-If one told us to sit, and bark like a dog, we would have howled at the moon! We would be their pretty little pets, and we would absolutely love it!

Jaune: Okay… I think you’re into more than just raceplay… g-good to know…

Jaune: …

Jaune: No it’s not. I regret asking you so, so many things.

Blake: Oh don’t be upset, I know you wouldn’t do that to me, Master~!

Jaune: Wait, what?! You want to do that depraved shit with me?!

Blake: Oh don’t worry, Master! I have everything planed out, and I know how to do all the naughty things you can do to your pet~!

Jaune: I don’t like where this is going…

Blake: We don’t have to do anything kinky if you don’t want to. However, I am putting my foot down at one thing!

Jaune: And, that is…?

Blake: A collar for me to wear with your name on it~!

Jaune: I want off this train!

Blake: Also, when we have sex, I want you to bre…?!

Jaune: That’s it! I’m out! I’m not having any of this shit! I’m going!

Blake: But, Master! Don’t you want to play with your little kitty cat~?

Jaune: AHHHHHH!!!

#rwby #jaune arc #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #ruby rose #jaune x blake #blake x jaune #rwby knightshade

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ozarkthedog · 11 months

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

summary: after an argument with Tommy, Joel notices you walking home and sees an opportunity to relieve his anger.

warnings: 18+ only. dark!joel miller x f!reader. dead dove. noncon. assault. threats. mention of stalking. breeding kink. no beta.

word count: 1.3k

author’s note: i’ve been in a dark! mood lately and this was the result. thanks to @ghotifishreads for being a supportive hoe. gifs by @nicolethered

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

The streets are quiet and it feels so right To be out of line like the shape of my veins For you, for you, for you - Mansionair

“What’d I tell ya about being out this late?”

You skid on the snow covered payment. The bellowing tone shakes you to the bone making you shiver beneath your winter coat. You know that voice. The one that, at first, made you feel all warm and fuzzy, but now, you did your best to duck out of view whenever you heard his deep timbre while you were out around town.

You swallow hard and raise a hand to shield your face from the falling snow. “Joel?”

The older man stalks toward you leaving something dark in his wake. Hot air puffs from his nose and mouth like a dragon into the cold night. His jaw is set in a hard line, anger seeping from his skin. “Want to tell me what you’re doing out here?”

You try not to cower as he pins you with an ominous glare. “I was helping stock the shelves at the market.” You meekly reply. “Besides it’s not that late and it’s safe.” You say, waving your hands around showcasing the barren streets.

You’d been living at the compound for the past year and finally felt like you could call this place home. You don’t know why he was so adamant about looking out for you. Ever since he came into your life, he was a thorn in your side.

“That’s just it. No matter how safe you feel, you never really are.”

White hot pain brands your skin when he lands a rough smack to the apple of your cheek. You stumble back a step and clutch your jaw in shock. Tears prick your eyes as snowflakes melt on your raised, warm cheek.

“See? Look how easily I was able to hurt you.” His eyes flit down your body, growing darker by the second, much darker than you’d ever seen. “It’d be a real shame if something much worse happened.”

Your mouth drops open with a fearful shout but he cuts it off with a vile punch to your belly. Pain ignites in your gut pitching you forward with a sick gag as you clutch your stomach. Nausea crawls up your throat as you clutch your stomach with a fearful gasp.

Joel grabs the scruff of your jacket and roughly yanks you upright. He carelessly drags you into a dark alley making the tendons in your abdomen throb and scream as he man handles you into the shadowy abyss. Your boots slip and slide on the snowy surface not allowing you an ounce of traction. You couldn’t put up a fight, no matter how pitiful it’d be.

He cages you against the frigid brick wall and smothers your cries with his palm. His leather glove smells of wood and smoke from a day in the barn as he kicks your feet apart. He grinds his half hard girth into your belly and a fresh wave of fear races up your spine.

“Just showing you all the awful things that could happen, Sweetheart. Always gotta be prepared.” He leans his chin on his glove with a smirk. “Be good to me. I don’t wanna have to mess up that pretty face.” A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest when you whimper under his palm.

Tears spill over your lashes as he uses his free hand to unbuckle his jeans and tugs on his thick length. “If only you’d listened.” He mutters, shaking his head. “Then you’d be at home all curled up in that cute oversized band shirt you always wear.”

Your brain slowly registers his words. He’d been watching you.

He spins you around and slams your body against the hard bricks before a gloved hand wraps around your neck as a warning. Warmth fans your cheek as he husks against your skin. “If you make so much as a peep, I’ll cut your tongue out.”

Your bottom lip quivers and a small gasp escapes the tight confines of your throat.

Joel snickers at your pitiful face. “Good girl. Now stick that ass out.”

When you don’t move fast enough, a brash hand on the back of your neck yanks you from the wall and folds your body in half.

“Hands where I can see ‘em.” He grits, waiting to move his hold on your neck until you place both hands on the wall in front of you.

With precision, he unbuttons your jeans and slides them down just far enough for him to stake his claim. You hiss when leather bound fingers prod your folds and deftly rub your mound. “Shit- you got a nice puffy pussy.” He comments while tapping the blunt head of his cock against your slit. “Gonna look so good spread open on my cock.”

He sheaths his entire length in your heat in one fluid motion. Pain erupts in your lower half forcing your head to drop between your shoulders. Your nails bend and break as they scrape down the brick while he ruts carelessly into you. He snarls like a beast savagely taking down prey.

Your elbows bend from the force of each thrust sending you closer to the wall on every drive as his pelvis smacks into your ass. “Takin’ me so good. Shit-” Joel hisses. “Such’a tight cunt.” His hips saw back and forth, gliding his thickness along your swollen channel, hitting spots that make you cringe with pain and pleasure.

Joel adjusts his grip and in the blink of an eye, pulls you into a standing position with one arm locked around your clavicle. His cock feels even more massive. Your body burns and you can barely breathe while he’s inside you.

It’s too much. He’s too much.

Mustached lips brush the shell of your ear. “You’re gettin’ wet.” He states with a vile grunt. “Never pegged you for a pain slut but you feel like you’re gonna come.”

Metal floods your mouth as you bite your cheek to keep from screaming into the night. Unwanted pleasure creeps up your spine and you want to vomit as he keeps moving. He cants his hips and directly aims for the spot behind your clit pushing you towards the edge whether you want it or not.

“Love watchin’ you struggle. That dumb brain of yours thinkin’ it can escape this,” Joel sneers and snaps his hips even harder. “but you’re mine, girl. Gonna make sure you fuckin’ understand.”

Teeth gnaw into your skin, marking the sensitive column of your neck, and setting off the immense pressure that steadily builds in your gut. He slams a gloved hand over your lips as you orgasm, cutting off your cries while your cunt swirls around his length as you explode into a million pieces.

The swell of his cock and his frantic pace registers in the back of your mind. You desperately scream into his gloved palm and struggle to get free despite his vice-lock grip around your frame. “Gonna be a good lil’ wife for me? A good mommy, yeah?”

Your screams are soft rumbles under the butter like leather as he takes his fill and shoves his cock as deep as it can go. His bulbous crown painfully grazes your cervix and nausea creeps up your throat once more.

A ragged groan vibrates your jaw as he reaches his end and fills you to the brim. Hips slam against your ass one final time before staying glued to you making sure nothing drips out. “Gotta make sure it sticks.”

Tears spill over his glove as he keeps your cries at bay. He nudges your cheek with his nose in a gross display of affection before slipping from your heat with a hiss. “Now, no funny business. You hear me?” He gives your jaw a rough squeeze before letting his hand fall.

The freezing winter air burns your lungs and the seed that drips between your legs scalds you. You fall against the wall with a whimper once he lets you go. Wanting to disappear, you curl into the wall and pray for him to leave but he’s at your side, like a moth to the flame.

You jolt as he tugs your jeans back into place. “S’only me.” He chuckles.

Joel curls an arm around your neck before walking you out of the alley and in the direction of his house. “Let’s get you home.” He kisses the crown of your head with a sigh. “Safe and sound.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #dark!joel miller #joel miller #dark!joel miller x you #dark!joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

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lis-likes-fics · 1 month

Text

Princess II

Pairings: Eddie Munson x rich!Reader Word Count: 18k words Warnings: Slow burn, swearing, tooth-rotting fluff, strangers to best friends to lovers... A/N: This was so much fun to write. It took like....over a year to finish this two-parted but it's done and I love them so much. They're literally idiots. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Thank you! (And a special thanks to my beta reader, you're amazing!)

The months pass smoothly, and soon you've been incorporated into aspects of Eddie's life that you've dreamt of for years.

It started with you ditching the cheerleading squad at lunch to go sit with Eddie and his friends. They were so sweet to you, if not a little flirty. Dustin was always eager to see you at lunch, showing off his intelligence or quick-wit any chance he got. He was all smiles, treating you like his cool aunt who got him just about anything he asked for because you liked to spoil him.

Mike was also excited, but he was also a little more open to accepting gifts and things from you. But he was the middle child in his family, so you kind of expected it.

Gareth, Fred, and Jeff all had similar reactions. Though Fred was more skeptical of having a girl like you in the group, you were easy to warm up to. Gareth and Fred constantly flirted with you, but you suspect they did it more for Eddie's annoyance than yours. You warmed up to them.

But Eddie.

The first day you went to sit with them, he'd made one of his buddies get up and move so you could sit next to him. It was a complete change in fondness, like his comfortability to you had skyrocketed to the other end of his kindness.

He included you in every chat, asked questions that weren't awkward but let him and the group get to know you. You really felt comfortable there, like one of them. You expected to feel a little off, but you didn't. They were so kind.

Everyone sneered for a while. The first couple of days were full of glares and snickers from those of other tables. But the longer you sat there, the less people cared. Whatever. You could do what you want, you're the princess. Eddie's comments on how people pick on him and his friends dwindled, though it never fully disappeared.

The squad wasn't so happy, not that you cared. They talked about it to your face and behind your back. It always got back to you of course, Chrissy kept you updated.

You actually managed to pull Chrissy a couple of times to sit with you and Eddie. She enjoyed it just as much as you.

Soon you started joining them during their campaigns. You just sat out and watched at first, serving as their cheerleader, until Eddie pulled you in by your waist, sat you down next to him like you always do now, and let you join in as any character of your choosing. You were an orc named Bill.

The longer you were friends with Eddie, the closer you got, and you loved every second. You went from sitting at his lunch table to playing campaigns with him to regularly going to his house (to the point where you could walk in and Wayne would wave and point down the hall where Eddie sat in his room) to spending just about every day glued to his side, his inseparable friend.

Eddie had always wanted a friend like that, though he'd never admit it, adamant on maintaining his reputation as a freakish outsider who didn't need anyone, who adopted all the other losers into his band of rejects.

He'd always wanted someone who loved spending that much time with him. He's way more happy than he'd like to admit that you haven't gotten tired of him yet.

Spring break comes and goes. You spend the whole of it with Eddie, except for the one day your parents decided to take you to one of the charity events in town. You spent the whole of it with Chrissy in a pretty dress that Eddie said he liked—considering she was in the same class as you and your parents were close friends.

You learned a lot of things over the time you spent as Eddie's friend.

You learned that every time he's asked what his favorite color is, he says black or red just to be edgy when, really, it's baby blue.

You learned that he loves pizza, he could finish an entire pie by himself in under ten minutes. Then he'd smile at you with his face covered in pizza sauce and you'd feel like you were going to puke, you're so in love.

He claims to be ambidextrous, but you've seen his left-handed penmanship and there's nothing ambidextrous about it. He likes loud, thundering music, but you've seen him turn into a softy from the slow, quiet kinds you never thought he'd be into. He lifts sometimes, revealing to you how lean he actually was when you walked in on him shirtless in his room once with weights in his hands.

You'd left the room to recuperate. He'd teased you about it for weeks.

He's terrible at math but he's a decent writer, he's a nice singer—and you melt every time you hear him sing, no matter the genre—he can draw, he can read three different books in one week, he cannot cook, but he can boil the hell out of some water. Wayne was very happy when you showed up in Eddie's life and started cooking for them.

You watched him learn the entirety of Metallica's new song, Master of Puppets, in under a month.

Choosing to become Eddie's friend was a terrible decision in only one way: every single day, he gives you more and more reason to fall deeper in love with him. Your heart is so full, you think you'll die.

You don't know if Eddie knowing that you like him is better or worse. On one hand, he knows he definitely has the option if he really wants it. On the other, he doesn't know just how much you have fallen and him being him tears you apart from the inside out.

But if this is the closest you'll get to him, you'll gladly burn inside just to get the chance to hold his hand.

After pulling up in front of your house, Eddie opens your door like a gentleman so you can make him study for a test he had that you knew he wouldn't do otherwise. He slung your bag over one shoulder, grabbing his own to do on the other side.

"Wait!" you tell him as he's slamming the door. You rush inside, smiling wide as you disappear into the house. Eddie follows you, taking his sweet time about it. You're already running down the stairs as he reaches the door after finally walking the length of your huge driveway.

You come out with your hands behind your back, smiling too big for your face as you look at him. He raises a brow, dropping both your backpacks inside by the door and leaning to the side. His knee pops out, making him look as sassy as he probably feels.

"Another gift?" he asks, almost exasperated as he recognizes that sticky sweet smile on your face. He loves it but the amount of gifts you shower him with is insane sometimes.

"Are you trying to buy my love or something?" he teases. "Is this a bribe, Princess?" He lifts his brow ridiculously high and lowers his voice ridiculously low, as if talking in secret.

You roll your eyes at his theatrics. "Don't be ridiculous," you shake your head. "It's a gift."

He shrugs a shoulder. "Same difference."

You scoff. "Shut up and close your eyes." He makes a teasing snort but does as he's told. You bite the very tip of your lip. "Hold out your hands." He does it.

You pull the long, yellow envelope from behind your back, tied with a thin white ribbon to make the most exaggerated bow he'd ever see. You watch his brows change at the feeling of the paper in his hands, curiosity leaking out.

"Now open."

He does. Looking down at the envelope, he raises a brow and stares at it, as though it would open on command. He fingers the glued down flap of the letter and glances at you with hesitant eyes. "What is this?"

He pulls the glue free and begins to pull out two, just as long, slips of laminated paper. Looking up at you, he can see how bubbly you were with the excitement to show him your latest gifts. Or "bribes", as he liked to call them—all out of good fun!... you think.

The words pour from your lips. "Two backstage tickets to Metallica next week!" You bring it back once the biggest part of the reveal was said. "They're on tour, and I know you like them."

He stares at you with wide eyes, but he doesn't smile. You wait for his grateful reply for a while before what you are met with is a loud, "What?"

Your excitement turns to shivering fear as you stare, worried. "Is it the wrong band?" Suddenly, all the worst scenarios you worried about come to mind. "Shit, did I mess up?" You start mumbling to yourself. "I know I checked and then double checked. Maybe the tickets are wrong. Fuck, what did I do—?"

He stops you with his heavy hands on your shoulders, weighing you down but also providing a lot of comforting warmth as he looks you in the eye with the same level of intensity. "You got me V.I.P. tickets to see Metallica perform?"

"In Indianapolis, yes."

He stares at you a moment longer before he's shoving you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you and keeping you flush against his body. The hug is warm and enveloping and much too close for friendship, and you hug him back just as closely, almost feeling as though you could cry of how wonderful it felt to have his scent all around you, his arms around your waist, his crazy hair tickling your face and shoulders.

After a beat too long, he's hoisting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle that has your body flying for a moment. He sets you down as you're both giggling, and when he pulls back to see you, his lips are set in the biggest smile you have ever seen. The breath is knocked from your lungs as you stare wide-eyed at him, and whatever was left slips out when his thumbs smooth circles along your sides as his hands stay set on your waist.

"You are fucking amazing," he says too fondly.

You gaze warmly at him, feeling your heart skipping too many beats. You need to go to the hospital.

Then his whole demeanor changes once more as his face drops into near frustration. "And extravagant," he adds suddenly. "Why the fuck did you get these for me?"

You honestly expected his hands to leave you by now, but they stayed at your sides with the envelope held between his fingers. You set your hands on his arms, shrugging as you smile earnestly.

"For us," you say, hoping not to scare him away with that. "Because I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."

Eddie doesn't know what he's done to deserve something as special as this, but he just smiles down at it with the joy of a little boy getting a dog he's been wanting all his life for his birthday. You hear him curse under his breath.

"I gotta go tell Wayne," he beams. He scoops you into his arms again, squeezing tighter this time as he laughs happily, his elation infecting you. He sets you down, looking over your face. He's moving and speaking faster than you think he thinks he is, but it just makes you smile some more.

"Ah, I fuckin' love you. I'll see you later!" He tears away from you, turning around and sprinting toward his van to drive haphazardly down the road to get back to his uncle. He's waving at you through the window as he pulls away.

Meanwhile, you stand at the door with wide eyes and stilled breath, frozen on the porch. His words replay in your head like a mantra, like a prayer that you've been waiting for as you smile a little.

"He loves me," you sigh. Then you shake your head, hoping not to be as delusional as you feel. "Just a figure of speech..." you chew your lip, "probably..." you furrow your brows, "most likely."

You sigh as you shake and bow your head. "I'm talking to myself again."

You turn on your heel and set a course down the sidewalk, walking a few houses down with fast feet and an even quicker beating heart. Four doors down, you come up the path to Chrissy's house and start repeatedly pounding on the door, because it was more dramatic than letting yourself in.

You hear her as she approaches the door because she yells, "Y/N, I'm coming!"

The door opens and Chrissy stands on the other side with a raised brow and a sigh. She sees you standing there with your conflicted look as she furrows her brow. "What happened?"

You walk past her, venturing into the house and walking right up the stairs as she follows behind you, unphased as she closes the door. "I gave the tickets to Eddie."

"And?" she asks as she follows you up the stairs.

"He loved them," you say over your shoulder, shrugging. "He was, like, super excited."

She smiles wide, her whole face lights up. "That's great!"

You get to the top of the stairs on your way to her room, stopping at one of the doors prior and knocking gently before pushing it open. "Hi, Carter."

The boy looks at you and smiles wide, waving his hand as he returns his greeting. You smile back and close the door, instantly falling back into your contemplation as you burst into Chrissy's room and plopped down at the edge of her bed.

"So," she prompts. "Is it a date?"

You furrow your brow, granting her a confused look. "What? No, don't be ridiculous."

She rolls her eyes, "Right..."

"But he..." you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you keep thinking to yourself, replaying the moment over and over and over again with the over-analysis of a skilled theorist.

"What?" she asks, urging you to finally spit it out.

"He, like," you look at her and release your lip in favor of speaking as you try and fail not to smile at the memory—as though it was a cherished thing that had been living in your brain for years. She follows the loose narration your hands give as you speak. "He picked me up and spun me around and said something about telling his uncle, and then..."

You hesitate to say it, hiding your face a little behind your hands. Chrissy sighs heavily, playfully impatient with your slowly developing, weird relationship with Eddie. "What? What did he do?"

You blush and smile too wide. Your face hurts. "He said 'I fuckin' love you', and then drove off." You're suddenly really giddy. "He said he fuckin' loves me!" You beam at Chrissy before quickly backtracking. "I know it was probably just a figure of speech or something, right? Like, he doesn't actually love me, he was just super happy. Heat of the moment. Right?"

This left your mouth as a word vomit and, honestly, Chrissy just watched you with a wide range of emotions crossing her face. Confusion, joy, passive frustration, hints of awaiting sarcasm...

She shrugs a shoulder, sitting next to you on the bed and attempting to soothe your scorching nerves. "I mean, probably, but you spend so much time together... who knows," she smiled wide suddenly, "maybe he's coming around."

Your grin is hopeful, your eyes glisten as you smile at her and she smiles wider and chuckles at the look. "You think so?"

"Sure!" she exclaims, eager to get you to the optimistic side of things.

"Maybe you're right," you nod to assure yourself, hoping that saying it out loud will bring it into existence. "Maybe you're right." You breathe in and out and sit up straight, nodding once more before you turn your gaze to Chrissy again. You take her hands in yours and squeeze gently. "The concert's next week, I need you to help me get ready."

"Absolutely," she beams. "You couldn't pay me not to help."

You wrap your arms around her neck and pull her into a bone-crushing hug. Chrissy, a native to your affection, takes it with an excited laugh and no acknowledgement to your strength.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Of course," she smiles, before pulling out of your arms and waving a playfully scolding finger at your face. "But you owe me."

You shrug. "I always do." You think for a moment. "We'll get lunch and go to the mall. Check out that store you like. An outfit of your choice, my treat."

"Deal," she said immediately. Rolling her eyes and smiling, she sighs dreamily. "I love leeching off rich people."

You roll your own eyes, not as dreamily. "You're also rich, Chris."

She shrugs, letting her shoulders sag lazily at her sides like a ragdoll. "I know, but you're my bitch."

You gasp dramatically. "Christina Elizabeth Cunningham! You watch your language."

She snorts. "Bitch, please."

You shove her back onto the bed and start for her kitchen. You're hungry and you're sure she hasn't eaten yet...

You close your locker with a snap. As you look up, you notice Tommy H on the other side, staring you down with an unimpressed look upon his face. You can see the rest of his group surrounding his locker to peer into the conversation, looking like a flock of pigeons—all bulgy eyes and flicking heads.

You sigh internally and turn to him, smiling as sweetly as you always do. "Hey, Tommy." You check your watch quickly.

"Hi," he says back, feeling slick.

You move your bag from your side to place your science books in, glancing at him as you do it. "Is there something I can help you with? I gotta get to class."

He leans his shoulder against the wall, crossing one leg over the other and stuffing his hands in the pockets of his lettermen. He shrugs his shoulders heavily, and your eyes fall on his Class of '85 patch—where it should now read '86 after an unfortunate grade point average in his last, slacked off year.

"You're hanging out with Munson now?" He raises a brow.

You sling your bag back over your shoulder. "Yeah?" You raised your brow, failing to see his point. "Is that supposed to be a problem or something?"

"I mean..." he trails off, laughing lightly like it's obvious. You just stare at him, almost looking clueless as he stumbles over his words to try and come up with an argument. He shrugs, "It's Munson."

You make a face. He scoffs.

"I mean, you seriously blew off a game for him?"

Oh. That makes more sense.

You've been hanging out with Eddie for months, and they haven't commented that much because you could do whatever you wanted because you... well, you're you.

But you did kiss the game last night. It wasn't a really serious one—at least, you don't think it was—and Eddie had a huge campaign he practically begged you to go to, and you accepted because you loved his campaigns way more than a stupid game (that, and the fact that you're head over heels in love with him). You told Chrissy, she covered for you.

You shrug. "We lost the game."

He scrambled for a comeback. "Yeah? Well, maybe we wouldn't have if you had been there. It's called moral support sweetheart."

You straighten your back and try not to make a face, continuing to remain friendly as you close your eyes. "First of all, don't call me that." He shrugs. "Second, there will be more games and more hangouts and whatever else. I'm hanging out with Eddie Munson, so what? He's my friend."

He scowls. "He's Eddie Munson."

You make a face, confusion raising your brow and lip. You pause, waiting for a follow-up. "You say that like it's supposed to prove a point."

Tommy scoffs. "Okay, how about this?" He towers over you, his elbow propped high up on your locker in an attempt to intimidate you. His red-freckled face is stern. "He's a freak."

He nearly spits the word in your face, and he smirks when he does it.

You tilt your head and smile.

"How about this..." You clear your throat and brush imaginary lint from his lettermen. "If you call Eddie a freak one more time," you look up at his face again, smiling a little sweeter and speaking a little slower, "I will personally see to it that my parents stop inviting yours to our parties."

His face pales.

"You'll be moved to our blacklist. From there, people will stop respecting you. And, by then, you'll be scrambling to get back in with us, and you'll look desperate doing it." Your eyes darken but your smile is perfectly intact as you watch his fear overcome him.

"I'll work you so far to the bottom that even the name Munson will hold less disdain in this town than Hagan." Your smile drops. You look cold.

"Do I make myself clear?"

He swallows thickly, finding his voice again after cracking on his first attempt. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Yes."

"Great!" You clap once as you smile brightly once more. The warning bell cracks loudly, echoing through the halls with a shrill screech. Both you and the bell startle him as he flinches, sighing heavily as you pat your shoulder twice. "Thank you. Don't be late for class."

He hesitates, shaking his head and walking away to rejoin his posse pretending to not have been listening in to the conversation. "Yeah," he mumbles as you watch him leave.

"That was scary."

You turn and smile wide when you see Eddie, leaning on the lockers with an impressed look. "I can be very scary," you joke.

"Tell me about it." He rolls his eyes, and you lightly smack his shoulder at the insinuation. You both start walking down the hall to your shared science class. "What was that about?"

You glance over your shoulder to where Tommy and his friends are walking away, throwing half-hearted scowls at Eddie over their shoulders.

"Oh," you say, smiling to yourself almost maliciously. You shock Eddie for a moment with the brief look. "Just a little... nudge in the right direction."

His whole demeanor changes as he turns his body to face you, walking still as his feet side step to keep up with you. "Did you just threaten Tommy H for me?"

"'Course," you smile. "We're friends, Eddie, and I protect my friends... even if that means destroying social lives forever."

He sighs a laugh. "Startin' to think you like destroying social lives."

You both walk into class together just as the bell rings, moving to your seats as you lean in and whisper dramatically. "Only when they're assholes."

He gasps, clutching his imaginary pearls. "Has her majesty just spoiled her tongue with the dirty language of the peasants?" he exclaims quietly in his best posh, British accent.

"I'm afraid she has," you play along in an accent of your own, though it's not as perfect as his. He's got an impeccable accent. "It can be quite hard to keep one's tongue guarded when met with the incompetence of the lower class, or even that of the upper."

He snorted, "Then, forgive me, my liege. I shall do my best to keep you away from the clutches of the incompetent."

You both laugh quietly amongst yourselves.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he snorts again, shaking his head with a seeking shudder.

You wink at him. "Never get on my bad side."

You direct your attention to the teacher. Eddie watches the side of your face and laughs again, shaking his head and readjusting after spending too much time taking in the sight of the side of your face.

You're pretty. He hopes he never gets on your bad side.

With Chrissy out with Jason, you have no one to calm your nerves as the time for Eddie to come pick you up grows closer. You've already dressed in the clothes you both picked out, she'd done your makeup before she had to leave, and you're walking around your room in your heels as you await his arrival.

You check yourself in the mirror one last time before the sound of your doorbell echoes through the house. You grab your stuff faster than you've ever done anything in your life, rushing down the stairs dangerously fast in your heels and throwing the front door open before your father's hand can even brush the handle.

Upon seeing you answer, he decides to walk away. Whatever you want...

You open the door and smile wide at Eddie, ignoring how nervous you feel at the sight of yourself. You feel sort of...out of place. This isn't your vibe but you are hoping he likes it anyway.

Eddie's eyes bulge and his mouth drops open.

He takes you in. Dressed head to toe in leather, he eyes your little red skirt and your black bustier top decorated with red roses. It looks so tight, he wonders how you're still able to breathe. You've got a garter belt wrapped tightly around your thigh, just peeking out from under your skirt, in more black leather. In knee high platforms, you've gone up a couple more inches in height. Even your makeup, with sharp wings, a tiny eyeliner heart on the apple of your cheek, and red lipstick a dark shade of blood.

Eddie feels like he just fell fifty feet and smacked his face on concrete, knocking all the air from his lungs and making it impossible to breathe. You are drop dead gorgeous.

"Wow."

You don't take it as well as he expected, nerves sinking in as you look over yourself quickly, wiping your hands down the skirt. "Too much?"

He shakes his head. "You look..." he trails off, lost in thought before shaking his head to bring himself back, "great. Really great."

You take it for what it is and smile. "Thanks," you blush. "Chrissy helped. You don't look half bad yourself."

And you mean it. He's in nearly as much leather as you. With black leather pants that cling to his body like chains, lacing running up the sides that seem to make them even tighter, he looks like a rockstar in his old Metallica muscle tee (the one where the logo is so faded, you can hardly see it).

You're not surprised to see his leather jacket and his battle vest, nor are you to see him wearing his own eyeliner, an extra edge you've seen during his concerts at the Hideout—though yours is admittedly done better. His hair is frizzier than ever, a look you tried to copy as well as you could but believe you fell short on (Eddie thinks your aces).

Eddie shakes his head. "Wow," he mumbles again, more breathless this time.

"You said that already."

"My bad," he says, not meaning it.

You shake your head and smile sweetly. "No, it's nice."

After staring again for too long, he clears his throat and smiles again, returning to his stupid antics that make you laugh constantly, like you've gone insane.

"You ready to go?" he asks.

"Yeah." You turn and yell into the house, cupping your hands around your mouth as you do it. "Bye, Daddy! Bye, Mom!"

Your mother's voice calls back, "Be back by sundown."

"What your mother said," says your father.

You close the door and walk with Eddie. "Uhm," he says. "We will not be back by sundown."

"It doesn't matter," your shrug. "They say it more as a courtesy. They'll forget I'm even gone."

"Ah," he mutters, though you don't seem too fazed by it. Almost like this is the norm for you. Maybe it is...

He takes you to his van, opening your door like a gentleman and loading you in. He hops into his own seat, slamming his door extra hard because it's been pretty stubborn lately.

As soon as he starts the engine, his music blares through the speakers, "Holy Diver" by Dio. You flinch, shocked by the sound but not upset. He immediately goes to turn it down, and once he's dialed it one way, you dial it the other.

Eddie looks over at you, your head already banging to the music as you rock enthusiastically in your seat. He stares at you, his parted lips curling in a grin. He thinks you're amazing.

"Are we going?" you ask half-jokingly when you catch him staring, speaking so loud you nearly blow your vocal chords trying speak over the music. You poke his side.

He over-exaggerates, recoiling in on himself and flailing back against his window like he'd been shot. You roll your eyes. And he lays there for a while, really dragging it out until you lightly smack his shoulder. The music blares.

"Eddie!"

"Ow– Hey!" he exclaims, even though you barely touched him.

You shake your head. "Drive."

"Okay, bossy," he says. He turns the music down just a bit and starts down the road. It's still loud, and your parents might get a complaint, but it's unlikely because the neighbors would be too afraid of offending them.

He nods lightly to the music, turning it down another smudge to ask, "You hungry?" He looks at you with his big doe eyes. He's going to give you a hernia.

"Not much," you shrug. "You?"

He also shrugs, tapping the fingers of his left hand on the wheel. He leans on his right arm rest, glancing over at you. "I'm always down for food," he winks. "But we could probably wait 'til we get there."

"If you wanna eat, we can."

He shakes his head. "Nag, we'll have a shit ton of free time. We'll be, like," he checks the time, "three hours early."

You snort. He's usually three hours late.

"Okay," you nod. You turn to him, smiling. "Oh, we could check out this new place my parent's friend's daughter told me about."

He laughs lightly, "Is she not your friend?"

You shrug a shoulder. As far as your friendships go, you recognize you don't really have many. Chrissy is the love of your life, as you tell her constantly, but she's the only person you've held close to your heart for years.

But your parents are rich. Their friends' kids are supposed to be your friends, but you've never acclimated to that thinking.

"Eh," you mumble. "We don't really consider ourselves friends, we just know each other." Her parents are also rich, and she's within the same category as you.

He hums. "Yeah, we can check it out." He sets his hand closer to yours, his pinky brushing yours. To avoid seeming too intimate, not wanting to complicate the friendship you've created, he wraps his pinky with yours and shakes it around.

Not intimate, just friendly.

"Is it fancy?"

You shake your head. "Not really." I squeeze his finger, grabbing his hand in both yours and forming his to lace your fingers together. "My parents and their rich friends spoil me with expensive stuff all the time, so I like the cheaper stuff a little more."

You purse your lips, looking away from your hands to look at his face. "But I don't like telling people that because I feel like I sound bratty."

He shakes his head. "Nah, you're not bratty." He lets go of your hand and lightly nudges the side of your face with his palm. You snort, swatting his hand away. "You're just bossy."

"Shut up," you laugh.

His face lights up at the proof of him being right. "See?" he laughs. "You're bossy. You're so bossy!"

You roll your eyes at him, "If you weren't driving, I'd hit you."

His eyes widen. "You're violent," he accuses. "You're violent now!"

You groan loudly, turning away from him with the most exaggeration you can manage. He laughs loudly. It's a ridiculous guffaw, and you feel the van swerve a little. You're so used to his driving by now, though, that it doesn't faze you.

When his laughter dies down and you're urge to burst into your own fit of giggles eases with it, he sighs dramatically to announce the end of his joke. "So," he hums, "if I gave you the choice to go someplace fancy with the best steak in town or a McDonald's," he leans toward you, tearing his eyes from the road at a stoplight to look at you, "what are you picking?"

You let a slow smile spread across your lips as you look at his stupid face with his stupid eyes and his stupid nose, and his stupid lips. You chuckle lightly, taking him in some more. "Well, you can't beat those nuggets."

He laughs again, still just as loud and dramatic as the first one. You love it, and you can't help but to laugh with him this time.

"No, you can't." He smiles at you, staring at your face a little longer than he probably should.

Eddie jumps when a loud honk interrupts his examination. Turning to the light, he sees that it is a very bright green. "Shit," he curses under his breath as he steps on the gas.

The van jolts, but your gaze lingered on him too long to notice. A slip of anxiety creeps up on you as a thought flashes behind your eyes. You hook your finger through one of the holes in your fishnets. You lean on your armrest. "Was that your way of asking me out, or am I dreaming?" You say it with enough amusement coloring your voice that it gives you the option to back out of it as a joke as soon as it is required.

And it was required.

"Fast asleep, Princess," he smiles, chuckling lightly as his eyes stay on the road in front of him. You ignore the stutter in your heart, covering your disappointment with a chuckle of your own and roll your eyes.

"Playing hard to get, huh?" you joke, trying not to be too sad about his lack of falling in love with you. You've still got him, even if you don't have him in your arms.

Eddie's fingers reach for the dashboard as he turns up the radio, turning the heavy rock up louder and louder. "What?" he shouts over the music, drowning your giggles in the song (though he can still hear them because he's listening very specifically for them). "I can't hear you over the music. What did you say?"

You smack his shoulder, giddy with his jokes. "Asshole!" you exclaim, crossing your arms in a faux pout. You both laugh out loud, big and dramatic and happy to be there. And as he turns down the radio before he blows your precious eardrums, he finds himself oddly tender with the sound of your joy. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he has to breathe a little more to steady his traitor of a heart.

You're nearly late, despite arriving there a whole hour early. Eddie had found a McDonald's and got so caught up in taking you that you both lost the time. You were in the middle of wiping Sweet N Sour sauce off his face when you realized it on the hands of your watch.

You almost got pulled over twice.

But you get there just as the lights are dimming. It's a huge opener—guitars and drums and screaming vocals, fans cheering and crying, headbanging and jumping and a couple of already too-drunk patrons puking in the back.

Eddie is ecstatic. He loves every part of it—the screaming, the crying, the puking. He takes it all in stride and stands really close to you as he does it.

He keeps looking at your face. Through the haze of flashing lights and so much excitement his heart might stop, he keeps looking at your face. You're really pretty, dressed in his style, smiling like a maniac, dancing to his music.

He was so scared you would hate it, this scene, his scene. He was scared you were going to show up and stand uncomfortably, smile in that people-pleasing way and bear through it until it was over.

But you don't.

You're beautiful. You glow under the lights, you're wonderful as you dance and sway and headbang to hell.

You keep smiling at him. You keep grabbing his hands and jumping to the beat of the music, and he jumps with you and he holds your hands. He can't help but adore you.

Part of him hopes it doesn't stick. He's not sure he could handle his heart beating this fast.

By the time the concert is over, you're both sweaty and hyped and tired but so happy. You both flash your VIP passes—you more confidently than him—and rush backstage with all the other VIPs.

He's buzzing with excitement as his sweaty hand shakes that of each member of the band. He does it wide-eyed, gleaming and entirely unbelieving. If his other hand was gripping yours, he'd think this was a dream.

A really freaky, amazing dream.

You both get shirts, personal autographs, and a lifelong experience that you load into his van with buzzing and heavy limbs. He helps you in, closing your door like a gentleman, and you slump against your seat.

Eddie gets in, slamming his door shut because it's a little stubborn. He starts the engine and turns the radio down all the way to a gentle background hum.

He doesn't turn his eyes toward you until he's pulled out of the insanity that is leaving the parking lot. When he glances over at you, you're asleep.

He'd wanted to thank you.

You're really pretty like this: eyes delicately closed, lips slightly parted. Granted, you're always pretty.

He has to look away before his chest starts hurting again.

Fuck.

He looks away from you quickly, gripping the wheel to get a handle on himself. He didn't mean to do this, to like you. Being friends was one thing, becoming best friends was another...

But actually starting to like you...

He isn't supposed to. You don't live in his world. He doesn't live in yours. More than that...

Actually, he's not sure. He just knows that... he wasn't supposed to begin liking you. His feelings for you were supposed to remain platonic.

But now he's not so sure.

There are a couple things he's sure of though.

You're beautiful, dressed like a metalhead or a cheerleader, you're beautiful.��And he adores you, inside and out. And he wants you to know that.

"Hey, Princess."

You turn, giving Eddie a wide smile as he walks up to your locker. He's got his hand behind his back in an obvious, and you laugh at that as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. "Hi, Eddie."

He leans on your locker, nervous and proud at the same time as he smiles. His hair is freshly washed—still damp and curly with conditioner. It'll be fully frizzed by the end of the day, you know it.

"I got you something. Well, I made you something," he says. "Close your eyes." You do as you're told, smiling as you do. "Give me your hand."

You're almost giddy as you lift it, presenting it to him. He sets something in your palm. It's light, your brows furrow.

"Okay, open."

You do, looking at your palm. Your smile falls a little as you look at it. A bracelet made with black leather, braided together with a few little silver beads woven in. You look at the silver charm. A skull with a crown on it.

He made this himself.

"Eddie..." You swallow thickly, blinking quickly so you aren't crying your mascara off. People don't do things like this for you—no one but Chrissy.

"Do you hate it?" There's an anxiety there that kick-starts your heart. He braces himself for a 'yes' before you have to remind him that you're you, and you're deeply in love with him.

"I love it," you urge him, using your best smile to convince him of that fact. "It's beautiful."

Hope sparks in his eyes. He smiles a bit. "Really?"

"Yeah!" you promise. "I'll wear it forever."

You shove it in his hand, and he immediately understands your request without you even having to ask. You hold out your wrist as he fastens the bracelet on. It's a perfect fit.

You coo as you look at it. "I really love this, Eddie..." Then suddenly, "Oh! This reminds me. I got this for you–"

"No, no," he stops you, holding out a hand as you reach into your locker. "This was a gift. I'm gifting this to you."

You slump slightly, your smile falling into a confused frown as you sigh. "But..." you fiddle with the charm, "I wanna pay you back."

He shakes his head, not unkindly. "No need. I technically owe you a lot, I'm sure those tickets were expensive as hell."

You're feeling a little...nervous. No one refuses gifts from you, ever—except Chrissy, when they're really excessive. But this isn't. It's just an Iron Maiden vinyl record, one of those limited addition ones you have to really look for.

Your parents had bought it a while back at an auction because a lot of people were bidding on it. But it just sits in a case in the living room collecting dust—they don't listen to that kind of music. They only got it because a lot of people wanted it.

Eddie would like it. He'd appreciate it...

"But–"

"No buts," he says, his tone final. "Let me do this for you."

You pull your hand away from your locker, sighing. You nod slowly, offering a weak smile. "Okay..."

This isn't the last time that happens. Through the next few weeks, Eddie keeps declining your gifts. You try to give him the record, but before you can even get the words "I got you something" past your lips, he's telling you that you don't need to get him anything and giving you his own gift instead.

You feel like you've done something wrong.

He's giving you a lot of gifts. It's becoming harder and harder to accept them, but you couldn't stand refusing one of the presents he's made specially or used hard-earned money on for you. You couldn't do that to him, it would break his heart. But...

It's a lot of gifts. And he isn't even letting you repay the favor to make it even.

There's a problem. You just don't know what. So you do the only thing you can do.

You ask Chrissy.

You walk up the steps to Chrissy's house, pushing the door open and heading straight up the stairs.

"Hello, Y/N," Chrissy's father calls, not lifting his eyes from his newspaper.

"Hi, Mr. Cunningham." You go down the hall, barging through Chrissy's door and closing it tightly behind you. She steps out of her closet, her brows furrowed as she looks at you. Though she's unsurprised.

She does this to you almost as often as you do to her, though you have admittedly more drama than her. You're more radioactive than she is.

"We have a crisis." You plop down on her bed.

She leans on the frame of her closet door, crossing her arms over her chest. "What crisis?"

You lay down, covering your face with your hands and, in doing so, muffling your words. "I think Eddie's mad at me."

She understands you perfectly. "Why?" she asks as she walks over and sets her hands on your thighs, leaning over you. You look at her. "What happened?"

"He's not taking any of my gifts anymore!" You sit up on your hands, but she doesn't move. "I'm trying to give him stuff 'cause he keeps getting me stuff. I mean, whenever I'm mad at my parents, and they try to bribe me to get over it, I just don't accept their gifts."

She shrugs. "Okay," she thinks. She moves off of you, walking back to her closet. "But why would he give you things if he was mad at you?" She disappears inside. "Besides, what have you done?"

You stand, following her in. She's sifting through her wardrobe, looking for her outfit for tomorrow. She does it every day, usually with your help.

"I don't know!" you sigh, looking through her choice of skirts. "That's why I'm worried. I don't know what I've done, and guys are weird."

She holds up two skirts to show you: one short and flowy pale blue and one bright pink two sizes too small. You hum, picking the blue. The pink doesn't suit her skin anyway.

"Or maybe," you continue, "maybe he thinks I'm mad at him, and that's why he keeps giving me stuff."

She shakes her head. "I think you're reading too much into this, babe."

Your head shake is far more intense than hers. "I am reading perfectly into this. I show my love by buying people things, I gift give! I'm basically Santa as a teenage girl. Here." You pass her a white shirt, long sleeved and pretty.

She takes it. "Thanks." Then she hums. "Interesting analogy."

You shrug, sitting on the little stool in her closet with a sigh. "I mean, how would Santa feel if kids just...stopped taking his gifts and started giving him a whole bunch of them?"

Probably special, Chrissy thinks.

"He'd be frantic!"

Chrissy can't help but giggle lightly at that. She loves you, but you're a little ridiculous sometimes. She shakes her head and turns to you and picks up two pairs of shoes. She holds them up as she kneels in front of you, showing them off. "Have you tried talking to him?"

You choose the white sneakers over the black flats. "I don't want to say something bad and mess this up." You rest your chin in your hand. "We were doing so well."

She sighs, setting both pairs down. "I'm sure it's not as bad as you think."

You sigh. "You're right." And then you stand. "It's worse."

She stands and places her hands on your shoulders, making you sit again. "Okay, maybe you're exaggerating this a little bit."

Your shoulders slump. "Am I?"

"Yes." She laughs lightly to take the weight off it. She breathes in slowly. "Take a breath. Calm down."

She takes your head and takes you back into her bedroom, making you sit on the bed. She sits across from her, her legs crossed as she sways some hair behind her ear. She takes your hands.

"Eddie is not rich, he doesn't have a lot of money like your family," she begins to explain. "People who are not rich don't always enjoy accepting gifts because it makes them feel like they're inconveniencing you."

Your brows pull together, and you frown. "He's not an inconvenience."

"I know," she smiles. It looks beautiful on her. "He's already gotten so much stuff from you, plus those tickets? I'm not surprised he's trying to pay you back. He's not going to let you give him anything else until he feels like he has."

You assume the worst, looking down at your joined hands and sighing. "So that we're even, and he can stop feeling obligated to be friends with me."

"No," she urges. "So he can stop thinking that you might think he's using you for your money." She shrugs, "He probably just feels bad."

You think about her reasoning. Her explanation actually makes way more sense than your own.

"Yeah," she says. "Just talk to him. I'm sure it's just that."

You sigh, covering your face. "This is so weird."

She takes your wrists, pulling them away. Her voice takes on an annoyed tone. You can practically hear her eye rolls. "Because most of the people who are 'friends' with you are only friends because you buy them nice things."

You nod. "Yeah."

"Except for me, of course," she smiles, almost proudly.

You chuckle. "Except for you."

She sighs, letting go of you and shoving you to stand. "Go talk to Eddie."

You take a breath. "Okay..." You give her your best smile. "Thanks, Chris. You're the best." You kiss her cheek on the way out as you turn toward the door.

"I know," she says matter-of-factly. "Love you."

You open her door, peering your head in. You kiss at her. "Love you back."

She begins to stand. "Also," she looks back at you, tilting her head, "tell your bitch mom to stop shrinking your clothes so she can loosen them. She's an ugly old hag–"

"Y/N!"

"–and you're beautiful and perfect, and I love you. I'm serious, I'll beat her ass."

"Leave!" She closes the door in your face, but you know she's laughing on the other side, grateful for your comments.

Eddie is sitting on the porch with his acoustic when you drive up. The engine halts when you pull out your key, standing and closing the door behind you. He likes your car. It's sleek and beautiful. Very expensive because your parents bought it for you when you first got your license.

He keeps strumming his guitar as you make your way up the stairs. "Hey, Princess," he greets you.

"Hey," you mutter, the nerves grabbing at your throat as you come to stand next to him. You fidget with your fingers, sitting next to him on the bench.

"Eds, can we talk?"

He hums, still strumming. "About what?" When you don't respond, he looks up at you. He stops, moving his guitar off his lap with furrowed brows.

"Woah," he says, noticing your worried face. "What's wrong?"

You take a moment to think, sighing as you try to figure out what you were going to say. You rehearsed it in the car, thoroughly, and it's all blanking staring at his wide eyes, brown as coffee.

"Are you mad at me?"

He looks confused. "Why would you think that?" He grabs your hand, and you don't know if you're imagining his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

"Because you aren't letting me gift you things."

He doesn't do what you expect—though you're not entirely sure what you were expecting. Eddie smiles, a wide thing that splits his face in two. His eyes almost look like they're shining as he looks at you. You don't feel patronized when he does it, either. It's oddly warming.

"You think I'm mad at you because I'm not letting you gift me things?" he clarifies, almost shocked, though he knows he shouldn't be.

So he's not mad at you? That makes you feel a little better...

"Well," you sigh. "When my parents and I argue, they buy me things to make me feel better. I always say no."

He softens, smiling gently and taking your hand between his. "Sweetheart," he says slowly, "I'm not mad at you. I just don't want you to think I only like you for your money, especially after that concert. That's a huge gesture for someone you only started hanging out with two months ago."

You sigh, looking away from his eyes to think. Chrissy was right, he feels guilty for accepting your gifts. This whole thing is new to you. You're so used up from serving everybody else. Now someone is trying to serve you, and you completely mistook it for anger...

"I'm not used to that," you admit.

"To what?"

You shrug, "People not accepting gifts from me... other than Chrissy." You smile a little, but it falls quickly. Sighing, you look back up at him, squeezing his hands just a slight. "Most of my friends are friends because I bought them their prom tickets last year or invited them to a party or something."

Eddie smiles again. He seems to scoot closer to you, both your thighs squishing together and leaving no space between your bodies. He nudges your shoulder and then pushes you away a bit because he's too affectionate. "I don't like you because you have money and buy me nice things." He chuckles lightly. "Actually, the reason I didn't like you in the first place was because you have money and buy people nice things."

You smile a little and Eddie feels like the special-est person on Earth. He knows it's silly and too affectionate but he can't help it. Eddie's crooked finger hooks underneath your chin and lifts it to look right at him. "I like you for you."

It's moments like these when your love for Eddie can't be measured. It's moments like these when your love for Eddie feels more mature than a schoolgirl crush. It's that moment when you're imagining more than parties or prom or dates or celebrations, when your mind is full of thoughts of sitting quietly in the living room or watching a movie at three o'clock in the afternoon because it's a stay-at-home-day or fixing dinner as he wraps his arms around your waist and sets his chin on your shoulder or reading a book while he scratches his head and files taxes at the kitchen table.

You smile fondly, and Eddie thinks you're the strongest whiskey because he gets dizzy at the sight of you.

"Really?" you mumble, your voice soft and sweet.

"Yeah," he nods. "You're awesome, sweetheart."

You love when Eddie calls you 'Princess' in that funny, affectionate way, but when he calls you 'sweetheart; you lose all your senses in the blink of an eye.

"Really?" It's the only thing you can think to say.

"Absolutely."

"Okay..."

Then you get brave—as brave as you can get. Licking your bottom lip, you look down at your lap and smile nervously. To have to gather the courage to look him in the eye as you smile gently at him. "You know how you can repay me for the concert?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "How?"

You bite the inside of your cheek, another breath for courage—"Go to prom with me?"

Eddie's smile falls. "I-"

"You don't have to go as my date. I just don't want to go alone," you say quickly, trying not to trap him or manipulate him or make him think you're trying to do either. "Chrissy's going with Jason, and I don't want to be a third wheel..." You sigh, looking him in the eyes and feeling your heart palpitating.

"Please?"

You're going to kill him one day, he's sure of it. The way his heart kicks at the sight of your pleading eyes is fatal, and he knows it because he can feel it in his chest. He sighs. It's his own fault. He let you be friends, and now he's head over heels...

"...Sure," he agrees. When you beam at him, the largest grin he's ever seen in his life, it's all worth it, his stupidity. "We'll go together."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he says. "Just two friends...going to prom."

You'll take that. You would take a million "just two friends" over "we don't talk anymore". You'd do anything for him. "Yeah," you smile. "Thanks, Eds."

It's all worth it to see you smile. "No problem."

Eddie's nervous. You can tell in the way he keeps bumping into you. You would dismiss it as just the way the place is crowded, stocked to the brim with sweaty bodies, some already drunk in the first hour and others high.

Eddie's been to parties before, obviously. He's done senior year three times, of course he's been to parties.

But he's not used to being around so many people and not being stared at. Almost no one is looking at him.

"Why are we going to this thing again?" he'd asked as you were getting ready.

You shrugged. "It's pre-prom."

"But there's actual prom."

You smoothed out your lipstick before you turned to him. "Yeah, but actual prom is kinda boring 'cause of the family-friendly rules. Pre-prom is hosted by students with no real adult supervision, so...less boring." You shrugged again, turning away to fix a stray hair. "Besides, I have to make an appearance. Me and Chrissy since we're in the running for Prom Queen. Otherwise, we get no votes."

"People'll vote for you anyway," he smiled.

"I always just want a drink or two."

He laughed a little. "We can just go to my place then." When you shook your head and laughed at him, he did the same. "Why am I going?"

"Because you have to. 'Cause you're my date." You turned quickly, eyes wide and hands out, "My plus one." You think about it for a moment. "My friend-date."

"Your date," he agrees, nodding and laughing and hoping you don't freak out because he called himself your date when you're just going as friends. Just friends.

"Yeah, I'll go with you, Princess." He sighs dramatically so he doesn't sound too wistful.

But now he wishes he'd convinced you to just go to his place and lounge on his couch, watching stupid movies and eating popcorn and then throwing popcorn at the screen when they do something stupid.

He holds your hand. You squeeze it, pulling him further inside with you and comforting him with all you have.

It becomes easier when you find Chrissy. Chrissy is very welcoming and helps you help Eddie settle because she's sweet and you're sweet and he loves you—your sweetness—he loves your sweetness.

When he has a beer in his hand—his only beer tonight, he's decided—and your hand in his other, he's laughing and letting you dance around him. Some people get upset with him when he accidentally bumps into them, and others give him dirty looks for the sake of giving dirty looks, but under the light in your eyes, he doesn't care. He doesn't even notice.

He watches your nose scrunch up in that adorable way that means you're truly happy. He keeps looking at you with the fondest eyes and the gentlest touches and the most wonderful smiles. You can't take it—he's so pretty with his doe eyes and smile lines and long lashes and his big nose and crazy hair and plump lips.

"Quit smiling at me," you giggle, pulling on his hand in yours. "I can't focus when you look at me like that."

"Like what?" he laughs. Then he makes a face, his eyes going wide and his smile showing all his teeth and his brows pulling together goofily. "Like this?"

"No, not like that," you laugh, smacking his shoulder lightly. He hears a squeak in your giggle and is thrown into his own fit. All your best laughs have squeaks in them. "Go back to how you were!"

You're both too sweet on each other, and he laces your fingers together to make sure you can't go away—even though you'd never.

"Oh, so now you want me to look at you?" he hums.

"Just not like a crazy person." He pulls you in so you're flat against his chest, and you don't have time to let your breath hitch until he's spinning you out again.

"How does a crazy person look?" He sets his beer down, pushing his hands into his hair and shaking it up. It sticks out all kinds of ways, a total mess.

"Like that," you nod dramatically.

"Like that?"

"Yeah." You add to the madness, your fingers carding through his hair. "Certified insane. It's a good look on you."

He snorts, fixing his hair again, "Yeah, I think so, too." When it's only in slight disarray, he sighs and looks down at you.

Eddie thinks you're beautiful. He likes your hair and your face and your soft hands and your pretty lips and bright eyes. He wants to hug you, but he'll settle for taking your hand when he realizes he's been staring at you for too long.

He starts pulling you with him as he walks. "Come on. I–"

A surprised gasp forces its way from your chest. You don't have time to process what's happening until after it's done. All you know is that it gets really cold and wet, and now your white dress is stained a bright red.

A round of snickering is heard above you. You look up to see a group of boys laughing obnoxiously over the stairs, a large bowl once filled with punch braced in their hands as they do. Everyone stands in shock, all talk ceasing when they see the sight of you drenched in red and these boys cracking up from it. It takes them a moment to catch wise...

Eddie is the first one to snap out of the shock, ignoring his hand, sleeve, and shoes just as wet. He mumbles something under his breath. Even in the relative silence, you don't make out the tiny "baby" that slips from his lips.

He sees your bottom lip tremble, your lashes already clumped with punch now clumping with the oncoming tears. The sudden urge to make everything okay again fills every inch of his bones. And as he looks up at these boys who'd hurt you, he wants nothing more than to let his fist meet pompous cheekbones.

"Tommy?" Your voice is meek, wavering with a brimming sorrow.

The other boys stop laughing immediately, looking down at you as their eyes fill with shock...and even fear. Tommy H, the main culprit, isn't so quick. When he notices their sudden change, he looks down as well.

That was meant for Eddie. Not you.

Now he knows fear.

Eddie watches your face contort even more until you're crying, tears falling down your cheeks and adding to the mess. He reaches out for your face, but you don't seem to notice as you rush past him, sniffles and all.

Eddie doesn't even get to shoot Tommy a threatening glare. He completely forgets about him for the moment in favor of following you through the house and out of the door, his shoes squeak-squeaking behind him.

He guesses you notice him following, because you reach a hand out behind you and catch his as you continue running out. Everyone parts ways, letting you pass without trouble. Eddie hears shouting behind him but keeps after you without a second thought.

You make it all the way to his van, parked outside in the crowded mess of cars and trucks. He opens the back doors for you so you can sit properly. You do, dropping your face in your hands as your chest heaves and you sob.

"Are you okay?" he asks, almost frantically. He runs his hands through your hair and gets you to look up at him so he can see your face clearly. It's covered in tears and punch and running mascara.

That same silent "oh, baby," passes his lips again, but you can hardly see the movement of it through your tears, so it's lost on you once more. Eddie's hands move to cradle your face. You keep sniffling, letting your body shake with shuddering breaths.

A horrible feeling curls in his chest. "Jesus," he mutters ruefully. "I should go back there and beat his ass."

He looks in the direction of the house, but you're already stopping him. "No, wait," you sniff. "It's okay."

But he's pissed. "No, it definitely is not okay–"

He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening forcefully. You both turn to see what's happening. As soon as you see Tommy H's freckled face, you hide in Eddie's chest. His gentle hands keep you there, rubbing and comforting you.

Tommy's running. He and the friends who hadn't escaped bolt from the house faster than Eddie thinks he's ever seen anyone run.

Someone hollers inside, and suddenly the entire football team is chasing after the boys, shouting and whooping and out for blood in the cover of street lamps in the night.

Directly behind them, Chrissy, Steve Harrington, and some brown-haired girl, stand by the door. They look after the boys but ultimately turn toward you. Chrissy doesn't look at all worried.

Eddie's attention is caught by a shouting voice.

"Y/N!" Jason Carver yells. "Do you need a ride home?"

You look up from Eddie's chest, wipe your face a little, and shake your head. "No. Eddie's taking me." You sniffle pitifully, "But thank you, Jason."

He nods, "No problem." Turning to Eddie, he raises his finger in a harsh point. "Take her home safe, Munson, or I'll skin you like a cat." He turns in the direction they're running, still in sight. He shouts loudly. "You better fucking run, you son of a bitch!"

"Hey, it's okay," you say, "You can let Tommy go." Eddie looks at you, obviously disagreeing, but says nothing.

Jason makes a face. "Why would I do that?" Then he's off again, shouting after the team and the runners.

You look toward the figures walking toward you and Eddie. Chrissy shakes her head gently, seemingly amused (only to you) but not smiling. Steve's expression is completely different, as he looks genuinely concerned but ultimately sympathetic. The other girl looks worried.

"Hey, you okay?" Steve asks, setting his hands on his hips and leaning.

You nod, wiping your nose and rubbing your hands on your wet clothes. It's not coming out. "Yeah..." you mumble, squeezing a couple tears out.

He sighs, "Tommy's way outta line for that one. I'm sorry, princess."

Eddie gets jealous for a moment that he's called you by his name for you before he remembers... Everyone calls you princess. It's basically your name.

"S'okay."

You glance at the girl, who gives a small nervous smile. She mouths silently, "I'm Robin." You give her the best smile you can manage. "Hope you're okay," she says gently.

Chrissy nods gently to herself. She shoots you a look, "Don't catch a cold." She looks at Eddie. "Get home safe. Both of you. Bye, babe."

You wave at her, a tiny lift of your hand from your lap. Another tear slips down your cheek.

"Come on, sweetheart."

Eddie braces a hand behind your back and eases you to stand. You do, taking his hand and letting him lead you. Steve pats his back gently before he's stepping away. Eddie closes the back door and opens your own like a gentleman. The three wave their goodbyes and start back toward the house.

He closes your door and goes to his side. The engine roars to life after having to twist the key a couple times. He starts driving. You're really quiet.

Eddie reaches a hand down and sets it gently on your knee, hoping it's not weird but also too worried about you to care. "Are you okay, Princess?"

You nod. "Yeah." You take in a large breath.

He shakes his head, his hand flexing on the wheel. "Why would you want them to let him go?" He hates the idea of someone hurting you and getting away with it. You deserve so much more.

"Hm?" You look at him, wiping the tears in your eyes. "Oh, I don't." You clear your throat and sniff. As you lick your lips, your face scrunches at the taste of alcoholic punch and lipstick. Eddie watches you try to wipe your face clean as best you can with your hands.

Your face scrunches. "Shit, I'm all sticky now."

Eddie's going to get whiplash.

"What?"

"Hm?" you look at him again. All evidence of your crying is gone. Your teary eyes are now only slightly watering, with your face kind of clean, no new fresh tears take their place. The sadness is wiped clean. You look back at him with the least amount of sorrow he's ever seen on you.

When you feel the van turning, you say his name and it swerves back in place. He puts his other hand back on the wheel.

"You were faking it?"

Suddenly, you smile. Eddie can't stand you.

"Of course," you say, shrugging. "It's just punch."

He sighs, feeling a little stupid but mostly just...amused. And really fucking relieved. He hates seeing you cry. You deserve so much more.

"I thought you were upset."

You laugh and he no longer has any reason to be upset. "No," you chuckle, "but Tommy's not happy."

He shakes his head. "I'm so confused."

You smile and sigh gently. "Thomas Hagan just poured a whole punch bowl on me—" you make doe eyes, "—the sweet, innocent princess of Hawkins—and then laughed his ass off like it was the funniest shit in the world." You shake your head, not at all upset. "He's not coming back from that."

Eddie smiles slowly. You're enjoying this. "You little–"

"He'll be blacklisted. No more hangouts, no more parties. He's done."

Eddie can't believe you. "Manipulative."

You pinch your fingers slightly and smile as you look through them. "Just a little."

"You're seriously not upset?" he wonders.

You're drenched head to toe, your hair is clumpy, your skin is sticky, your makeup is running all over your face, and your dress is forever ruined. But you're smiling like all is well with the world.

Again, you shrug. "I'll have to take a long shower now, but I'm okay."

He snorts lightly. "I bet."

You lean in slowly, smirking and bobbing your brows. "Never get on my bad side." A reminder. The one he asked for the last time Tommy had done something unbecoming.

And Eddie laughs. Not because he doesn't take you seriously, but because he just likes you so much. You are... everything to him.

Doing his best to keep his eyes on the road, he laughs loudly and fills the van with the sound of it. You get giddy at accomplishing such a feat and can't help but laugh with him. It's loud and obnoxious and just what you both needed. Warmth blooms in your chest, despite the cold shivers coming in, and you couldn't be happier.

Eddie pulls up on the curb, opening your door—like a gentleman—and helping you out. You mumble a quick apology about his sticky seats, to which he replies that those seats have seen worse. You don't know what he means, but you're hoping your idea is wrong.

In the driveway, yours and your dad's cars are parked and idle. Your mother is gone on a business trip—her boss' secretary—so he's probably home alone.

"Play it cool," you whisper to Eddie as you get to the door, messing with your sticky hair to make it look worse than it is. "How do I look?"

"Terrible," he lies.

"Great," you beam. You let your face fall immediately, and you look pitifully pretty.

You take Eddie's hand and let him open the door for you. As he's closing it, you glance around. "Daddy?"

"Yes, honey." You hear his footsteps as he enters the foyer. He turns the corner, "I thought you would be out longer–"

He looks up, stopping abruptly as he realizes what a mess you are. He furrows his brows, walking closer. "What happened to you?" He goes in to hug you, pausing when he sniffs. "Why do you smell like that?"

"Just..." you sniffle and Eddie watches a tear slip down your cheek. He thinks you're ridiculous, and he loves every moment of it. "Something happened at the party."

He picks up your hands and holds them in his palms. "What happened?"

You shake your head, looking down at the buttons of his shirt. Eddie stands close behind you, a hand on your back for support. It's warm, and you like the feeling of it. "Nothing."

"No," your father hums, tilting your chin up to look at him, "tell me."

You take in a big breath and let it out in a sigh. Your bottom lip trembles. "Tommy H," you confess. "He poured punch over my head on top of the stairs." You will more tears from your eyes. Your breath hitches, and you shake your head, "I'm sure it was an accident... He probably didn't mean to do it."

Technically, he didn't. It was meant for Eddie. But that's no better. You did warn him.

He raises a brow. "It looks like he spilled the whole bowl on you." He looks at his hand, red fruit punch staining his palm now.

You nod, a slow up and down that has him frowning deeper.

"Hey," he hums. "He won't mess with you anymore."

"Really?"

He nods, holding your chin. "Of course. No one messes with my little girl and gets away with it. We're cutting him off."

Bingo.

You shake your head, "It's okay. You don't have to do that."

He smiles gently, "But I will." He nudges your chin gently before letting you go. "Go get washed up."

He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and begins wiping his hands clean. "Thank you, Daddy." You would hug him, but you're still sticky. You're sure he wouldn't mind, but you'd rather avoid the mess anyway.

"Of course, honey." You kiss his cheek as you turn toward the stairs with Eddie's hand in yours. As his foot lands on the first stair, your father stops him.

"Hey."

Eddie turns.

"Did you drive her home?"

"Yes, sir."

He grunts. "Did you beat that Tommy kid up?"

Eddie shakes his head. "No, sir. Jockeys had him," he looks at you, spying a gleam in your eyes and smiling a bit. "I was just trying to get her home."

There's a short silence as your father smiles. He gives a firm nod, "Good man."

Relief fills his chest as he nods back. "Thank you, sir." You pull him up the stairs. He takes off his jacket.

You close the door behind him, your smile returning as you kick off your shoes. "Not only did we blacklist Tommy," you turn back to him, "but my dad also loves you now. Congrats."

Eddie furrows his brow as he heads toward your bathroom. "He does?" He turns on the sink, washing his sticky hands.

You nod. "Yeah." You disappear into your closet, coming back a moment later with a towel on your arm. "That's fatherly approval. You defended my honor, my knight in shining armor."

You take his arm and kiss his cheek as you walk past him. He feels giddy. "At least someone's parents love me." He starts taking off his shoes, setting them next to yours. Eddie sits at the edge of your bed.

You snort. "I'm gonna take a shower. Don't be a perv."

He kicks the floor playfully and sighs. "Ruined my whole night."

You point at him threateningly. "I'll tell my dad on you."

"I'll take pictures with me then. To remember you by." He winks.

You return the wink. "I'll make sure to pose for you."

You disappear into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Eddie sits in your room, smiling pathetically, so happy that you're okay and he's okay and he's your knight in shining armor.

Here he is, smiling like an idiot, surrounded by the scent of you in your room with all your pictures and all your knick-knacks. He slides onto the floor, resting his head back on the mattress. God, he's in trouble.

He's flipping through one of the books on your shelves when you come out, a cloud of steam following you as you dry your hair. He looks over your outfit, smiling but offering you a confused look.

"Is that mine?"

You look down at your shirt, one of his band tees that you'd taken a couple weeks ago. He'd been looking for that. You can keep it.

"Yeah," you nod. "I stole it from your room."

He chuckles. "Well, finders, keepers, I guess."

You smile, walking toward your drawer stocked with VHS tapes. "You wanna watch a movie? I can go make popcorn."

"Sure." He raises his brows. "Can I take a shower? I don't wanna get spiked punch everywhere."

You snort. "Course. There are towels in there, and some of your clothes are in my closet."

He tilts his head, sighing. "How many of my clothes have you stolen?"

You raise your hands in defense. "Just a few shirts and like...one pair of sweatpants."

He shakes his head at you as he goes to get a pair. He closes the bathroom door softly behind him.

He likes your bathroom. It's clean and mostly organized. It smells like lavender and rose, pearly whites and pale blues. He almost expected pink.

Eddie appreciated the weight of your body against his as you lean into his side. Labyrinth plays on the TV as the minutes tick by into the night.

He keeps looking at you, your heavy eyes drooping as you struggle to stay awake. It's late. You should be sleeping, but you're staying awake for him. It takes a lot not to turn his head and kiss the top of your own.

"You're warm," you mumble.

He smiles a little. "Yeah?" With the arm thrown over your shoulders, his fingers play with your hair. "You gettin' sleepy?" He knows the answer.

You nod, a sluggish movement against his arm. "Mhm."

He picks up the remote slowly, turning down the TV just a little more. "You should go to sleep then."

Your body becomes a little heavier against him. He takes all your weight, proud to. "Mmm," you slur. "Finish the movie."

A very light chuckle, as light as he can make it, eases from his chest. "We can finish it another time," he says so, so softly.

"No...Watch it now."

He does kiss your hairline this time, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. "Go to sleep, bossy."

He's not sure if you mean to say it, he's not even sure if you know you've said it. But when you whisper that little "love you", he loses his mind.

He smiles so wide, he feels his whole face start to hurt. He hadn't realized it would make him so happy to hear that, to hear your little confession spoken gently into the warmth of his chest. He turns his head so his words go into your hair. "Yeah?"

"Mmm."

He opens his mouth, thinks, and smiles. "I love you, too, baby."

You hum, and then he feels you slump. He doesn't mind. He doesn't mind the way he can't move his arm, he doesn't mind the way your hair gets in his face. He turns off the TV, leans back as slowly as he can, and lays the both of you down against your pillow to sleep.

You love him.

The entire day consists of Chrissy at your place getting ready for prom. The music doesn't stop and neither does the energy. You keep her happy and entertained and well-fed and then distracted again with more excitement so she doesn't get self-conscious and start panicking.

You also spend a lot of time keeping all the parents from the room. Your mothers keep trying to "help", and you keep having to kick them out because they're both annoying and overbearing.

Eddie keeps calling you. The walky-talky Dustin gave you both goes off regularly, at least once an hour to ask a question you'd had answered for days now.

"It is red, right? Not blue? It can't be blue; Chrissy's wearing blue." "Which knot are we doing on the bowtie? Wayne only knows the simple one but he's got a magazine with the other ones." "Am I leaving my hair down?" "I drive to your place, and then we take your car, right?"

"Yes, it's red. The whole outfit we picked is right." "Try the simple one. I can fix it if it looks weird, but it shouldn't. I trust you." "Do what makes you comfortable. I'll love it either way." "That's right. I know you really want to drive it." "Eddie, everything's gonna be fine. Don't worry."

"I know," he sighs. "I just don't wanna mess this up for you. I know you've been looking forward to it."

You giggle a bit. "As long as I get to spend time with you, Eds, tonight will be great."

"Such a charmer," he teases.

"It's my natural talent."

You set the device down, taking your spot across from Chrissy once more. She's smiling at you, albeit nervously.

"Are you sure I look okay?"

You smile, pinching her chin before reclaiming the small brush and finishing off the short, sleek wing of her eyeliner, all while holding your breath so you don't accidentally screw up. You draw a tiny heart just above the apple of her cheek.

"You are," you set the eyeliner down, "absolutely beautiful. You always are."

"Are you sure?" she says, a telling hand creeping to her belly.

You take her face in your hands, careful not to screw up her freshly done makeup. "Chrissy," you whisper, "you're perfect. Always, all the time, no matter what. I will never lie to you, and I'll never sugarcoat it. You're amazing, and I love you."

She takes a slow breath in and nods, smiling prettily. "Love you, too." You kiss her forehead.

"Now do my eyes," you smile, handing her a makeup brush. She giggles as she takes it.

And later on, as the night gets closer and the sun is beginning its descent, you and Chrissy are walking down the steps, holding each other's hands.

All the parents are gathered downstairs, smiling as your mothers cling to your fathers' sides. Your father smiles as you come down. "You both look like royalty," he declares, holding his arms open for you. Your mother moves to give you the space.

"Thank you, Daddy," you hum.

He pulls you back to see your face. "Anything for you, princess." He kisses your forehead.

Chrissy's sharing her own hug with her father. "I trust they were the dresses you wanted," he says.

She nods. "They were. Thank you, Daddy."

"Whatever you want, angel." He kisses her cheek.

Your father pats him on the back as they both wander into the kitchen, your mother follows behind them.

You try not to grimace when Laura stays back, looking her daughter up and down with a grimace of her own.

"I still think I should have loosened that dress up a little more." She moves forward, placing her hands on Chrissy's waist and trying to adjust the fabric.

Chrissy tries to smile through her discomfort. She puts a hand over her stomach and you retire your hard side-eye to come to her side. You weave your arm around her as you give her a reassuring grin.

"Well, I think you look beautiful." You nudge her chin, she smiles. "I envy you."

"I don't know," she tsks. "She's a little too big for her dress. Especially around the hips..."

You smile, turning to the side as you mumble under your breath. "Funny how you barely fit in that large sized dress."

Her brows shot up. "What was that?"

"Hm?" you ask, turning back to her. "Nothing. I was just saying you didn't need to stress."

She huffs, "You said something about a large."

Chrissy's head dips, attempting to cover a grin as you loop your arm through her elbow. "I was just...admiring your large heel."

There's silence as she stares at the both of you. Chrissy tries not to laugh at your dangerous idiocy whilst also struggling with not shrinking under her mother's terrible gaze. You have no issue in staring her right back down, your head tilting and your cordial smile held strong on your lips.

"You mean...'high' heel?" she corrects.

The tension in the air is thick. Chrissy finds it difficult to stand still as she shifts from foot to foot, staring down at the floor or the wall or her bracelet. Anything to avoid looking her mother in the eye—or you, for that matter, in fear that she would burst with laughter and build herself her own grave.

You hum and nod. "Of course. High horse—heel. My apologies."

Her hand raises to her chest, seemingly shocked by the blatant 'disrespect'. "You are being very disrespectful, young lady."

You were trying to be subtle but something about Chrissy's mother rips all the subtlety from you as you furrow your brows but continue to smile. "Oh, I wasn't aware decency was considered disrespectful."

Chrissy nudges your side gently, whispering your name in an urgent reprimanding. "What? What did I say?" you wonder.

Laura isn't having it. "Why, I should go tell your mother about your unpleasant behavior."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. You try to look regretful, but you're sure you're missing the mark by a few hairs. "Oh, forgive me, Ms. Cunningham."

She huffs. "Missus, young lady."

"Right," you nod. "Mrs. Cunningham. I apologize." You tighten your grip on Chrissy's arm just a slight, making it harder for her to keep it together. She loves you, and she thinks you're hilarious. "It's unbecoming of a lady—such as myself—to behave in such a way."

"Yes, it is," she agrees. "One would think a girl like you would behave more appropriately."

You nod firmly. "Of course. I should respect my elders—I apologize, my superiors."

You could gag at the idea of it.

But she can't stand your "disrespect" any more as she huffs and shakes her head, making a various amount of scoffing noises as she begins walking away. "The nerve of children these days."

She leaves the both of you alone. Once you're sure she's out of earshot, Chrissy bends over laughing, covering her mouth and shaking her head to keep quiet.

"You're gonna get in trouble," she whisper-yells. Instead of shoving you away, she tightens her grip to pull you closer. Your foreheads practically touch as the two of you form a conspiring huddle.

You scoff. "I'm Daddy's angel. Doesn't matter what she tells my mom—who will tell my dad—Daddy's angel knows no wrong." It's a truth you repeat often, but it's one of those truths that have always been indisputable.

"Daddy's princess," she corrects you. "I'm the angel."

You shrug, humming. "You're technically the queen."

It's funny. You probably have a higher social standing than Chrissy does, but she was always the Queen of Hawkins while you were simply the princess—not that you minded, you would always support her.

Neither of you are quite sure why that is, but you think it may be because she became a cheerleader before you and then started dating Jason Carver. It doesn't matter. As long as you have her by your side, you would accept being the jester in this high school court of a kingdom.

Chrissy smiles, another giggle rattling her body. "So strange how you don't listen to me then."

You gasp dramatically. "I do! Otherwise I'd be out of the business, Your Highness. We both know I'm a little too dramatic to process common sense sometimes." She rolls her eyes playfully at you. "Exhibit A, Eddie."

She snorts. "Yeah, you were a little confused a couple times there.*

You gasp again, pretending to elbow her in the side. "You're mean!" She giggles again as you call out. "Daddy! Time for pictures."

"Coming, princess," he calls from the kitchen.

Chrissy whispers to you, "You're crazy."

You wink. "Crazy for you."

She rolls her eyes.

All the parents return with a camera. There are a multitude of flashes as they get every possible picture they could need—you and Chrissy, you and your parents, you and your dad, Chrissy and her parents, Chrissy and her dad, Chrissy and her mom (because her mother is insistent). More pictures will be taken when the boyfriends show up.

Jason is the first of the two to show up. As you predicted, there are more pictures. And as soon as those pictures are done, he and Chrissy leave, but not without a pink kiss to your cheek.

Then Eddie shows—without blaring his music through his speakers tonight. He isn't late, in fact he's perfectly on time.

As he walks up the steps to the house, he behaves like a gentleman the whole way. He rings the doorbell, you answer it before your father can, and you give Eddie your best smile.

He looks so handsome. He's in a black tux with a red dress shirt. His black bowtie is perfect, and you're sure it's because he didn't stop until it was. You would have thought he would keep his hair down, but he wants to impress you. His hair is shiny with product and so, so curly. He's got it pulled back in a half-up man bun.

And, of course, his rings are still in place. Shiny, freshly polished. Jesus, you loved him.

"Wow," he sighs at the sight of you. His doe eyes are wide, and his plump lips are parted. He looks starstruck.

"Do you hate it?" you worry, looking down at your dress. The theme is royalty in yours and Chrissy's honors. So, as intended, you look like a princess.

He shakes his head. "No."

You try not to mess with your hair by running your hands through it. "Is it too much?"

Eddie grabs your hand, smiling as he squeezes it gently. "You look fuckin' beautiful."

Your eyes seem to shine, and Eddie thinks you're trying to kill him. "Really?" you smile.

"You look like a princess," he promises, looking at you too closely. You're so, so pretty.

Something hits him, not literally. "Oo!" he exclaims, taking a step back. He turns on his heel with no explanation and rushes back to his van. You watch him, thinking that he's a total dork and that you wanna kiss him silly. There's something about being dressed up like this and being his not-date to prom that makes your feelings for him just that much more potent.

Usually you can get through the first five minutes without imagining your faces squished together in a too-affectionate kiss, but you can't help right now but to be riddled with the fantasy.

He comes back with something uselessly hidden behind his back. "I have this. Close your eyes."

You do as you're told because you trust him, and you would hold a ticking bomb in your palms if he asked you to. You feel him place something on your head—a tiara, you presume.

"Shit," he huffs breathlessly.

You peak your eyes open, raising your hands to feel the tiara with happy fingers. You want to burst. You're so much of a princess to him that he needed to give you a tiara. You're proper royalty now.

"Too much?" you ask.

"Never," he's quick to say. He smiles. "You're perfect."

You don't know what compelled you to say it. "Shit, you might as well kiss me now."

"Huh?" he wonders, as though he wasn't paying attention. You don't think he was.

He was. He definitely was.

"Nothing," you say anyway, covering your words with a grin as you take his hand and pull him inside. "Come on, my mom wants a picture."

He raises a brow, pointing to himself like a dummy. "With me?"

"'Course." You thread your hand through his elbow, and he gladly allows it.

"Seriously?" he asks.

"Yeah," you giggle. "We'll give some to Wayne, too. I'm sure he'd like a picture."

"Yeah," he mutters, fully agreeing but also slightly confused. You like him confused, he's sweet either way.

Eddie is a gentleman. As soon as you get to the party, he rushes out of the car just to open your door for you—as he always does. He takes your hand in the crook of his elbow and leads you inside. You smile the whole way, and he tells you that you're pretty when you smile. Your face hurts from smiling so much.

When you're inside, the music is already pounding in the floors and a lot of people are dancing. There are also, however, plenty of people sitting at the sidelines, watching others enjoy their time. People with no dates, people with dates ignoring them, people in friend groups. You notice Tommy H's freckled face hasn't shown up yet. A sly smirk threatens to overtake your warm smile.

You and Eddie spend the first hour dealing with everyone coming up to compliment you. You both expected this. The party's just started, you're running for queen, and...you look beautiful. Eddie does his best to swat away any of the vultures. When you spy Chrissy, you stick next to her and brave the vultures together.

Until Jason pulls her away for punch. She kisses your cheek as she goes, allowing her boyfriend to drag her away again. You don't mind, it gives you time with Eddie and his excited affection.

"Sup, Harrington," he calls when he spots Steve and—the girl you've come to know as—Robin Buckley. "I thought they didn't let old men in here."

Steve rolls his eyes as his palm smacks Eddie's. "You're older than me, Munson."

Eddie shrugs that heavy shouldered shrug and snorts. "By, like, a year."

Steve shakes his head and turns away from him, setting his eyes upon you. With a warm smile, he greets you. "You look great, Y/N."

"Like, drop dead gorgeous. You are stunning," Robin spews, taking in your outfit with plenty of appreciation for your style. A tiny squeal escapes her as she does.

"Thank you," you answer genuinely. You've grown to really like Robin in a short span of time. She's so sweet and geeky, and you love getting to hang out with her and Chrissy on the days where you've kicked the boys out. "You look beautiful, Bobby."

She seems to blush, looking down at her dress and nodding. It's probably too dressy for her, but your compliment makes her feel better. "Yeah, thanks."

She nudges Steve in the side hard enough for him to bring a hand to it and mutter a weak, "Ow."

"Steve wishes he had a date. He couldn't score one," she teases.

The three of you laugh as he rolls his eyes at the abuse. He'd hoped you would at least be nice to him, but it seems you've followed in Eddie's cruel footsteps. "Har, har. Laugh it up."

Robin takes his arm then, her giggles melting into her words as she smiles wide. "Anyway, we should go check out the punch. I heard someone spiked it and now we've got booze!"

Robin starts walking away with Steve, but when he pauses, she doesn't stop to wait for him. Steve sidles up to Eddie, leaning down to whisper in his ear and keep away from your prying ones. "It's now or never, dude. Don't keep making us listen to your gross pining."

Eddie grumbles, masking his anxiety with annoyance as he rolls his eyes. "I don't pine."

Steve scoffs. "Yeah, right."

Eddie pushes him away, to which Steve raises his hands in mock defense as he goes to catch up with Robin. He waves at you on his way. As if on cue, the music changes to something slow and steady, something romantic, and Eddie thinks the world is mocking him. When Eddie turns back to you, you're smiling at a couple who'd come up to say hi. He waits patiently for them to leave before he holds his kind of shaky hand out to you.

"D'you wanna dance?" he asks after clearing his throat a couple times.

You smile that drop-dead smile at him and he finds it a little harder to breathe. You slip your hand into his palm, and he hopes his isn't sweaty. "Yeah," you mumble fondly, standing close as you let him guide you to a spot within the dancing couples. Your heart beats so fast, drowning on his nervous fondness.

He holds you with timid hands, one in your hand and one on your side. You're just familiar enough that his touch does not feel as awkward as you feel. You try not to melt against him, to lay your head upon his chest and close your eyes, to let him sway you with the gentleness he feels swelling in his chest and tingling in his fingers.

He stares at your face, and it feels natural for him to do so. Your hand on his shoulder slides further to wrap around the back of his neck. He smiles at the soft glow in your eyes, the little sparkle of life that erupts every time you look at him.

"You're really pretty," he whispers as his eyes look over all the glorious features of your face: your soft lips, your kind eyes, your plush cheeks, your adorable nose, your fluttering lashes he wants to feel lay little butterfly kisses on his face.

You look down from his eyes momentarily, hoping the warmth in your cheeks and the shortness of your breath isn't too evident. "This dress was really expensive, so I'm glad you think so–"

He doesn't mean to cut you off, but he does. "I'm not talking about the dress." He can't help it when his hand strays from your hand to hold the side of your face, his thumb brushing the gentlest touch against the apple of your cheek. "You're pretty without the dress."

You stare at him with the biggest, shiniest eyes. He loves when you look at him like this.

Then he realizes maybe he weirded you out.

"N-Not, like, naked! I just meant, y'know, even without the fancy dress, just in regular clothes, too. You're just..." he clears his throat pathetically, "you're really pretty."

You tip your head back to laugh sweetly, the one with the squeaks—the one he really likes because of its sincerity. His hand wraps farther around your waist. You respond—seemingly unconsciously—by setting your other arm on his shoulder. He secures both hands at your waist.

"I know what you meant, Eddie," you giggle, giving him one last squeak just to please him—though he knows you didn't do it on purpose.

He nods, letting his own giddy laugh escape him. "Cool."

A chuckle, one of the ones that goes through your nose as you stifle a grin. You move slowly, like you're trying not to startle an animal, as you set your head on his chest. You step just a slight closer, and he graciously lets his hands wrap tighter around you. His head rests against the top of your heart.

It's close and warm and it makes you both smile. He smells nice, familiar, like the cologne you bought him, deodorant, and cigarettes. Under the music and the sound of his clothes brushing your ear, you can hear the faintest beat of his heart. It's quick, heavy. You can feel it against your cheek if you really focus.

You chuckle so lightly. "Eddie, calm down. Your heart is, like, super fast."

He clears his throat, speaking through his fond haze. "My bad."

He's so nervous. Steve's words play over and over again in his mind. "It's now or never, it's now or never, it's now or never, it's now–" and he is so afraid to pick now that all he does is sway and breathe the scent of your soft perfume, and under that, your—supposedly—scentless lotion.

He's so afraid that he's missed his chance. He knows you love him, but he's stuck on the possibility that you don't love him like you did. Maybe now, after having waited so long, you love him like a best friend, you love him like a brother. Maybe now that he's finally fallen for you, you don't have the capacity to stay low with him.

He's so afraid.

You both sway to the music, moving so slowly. There's a pause, it feels like. You feel like something is supposed to be said or done but...no one is doing it. The music changes again, but neither of you have stopped your slow dance. You rue the moment you have to tear away from him.

But there was a pause.

"Do you want to stop?" you ask gently, hoping against hope that he says no.

And he answers your prayer better than you could have asked for. It's a quick, "absolutely not," that leaves no time for any conceived hesitation.

You're so relieved. "Okay..."

His response is just as immediate. "I like you."

You look up at him, smiling gently. The sight of him warms your heart, all the softness in his big features, all the gleaming in his dark eyes. "I like you, too."

"No, like..." he sighs, struggling to say what he wants to say as his hands find firmer purchase at your waist out of nerves. "I really like you."

You're confused as to how to respond. Smiling strangely and furrowing a brow, you chuckle, "Thank you?"

Not quite. "I mean–"

"Eddie," you pause, donning a playful voice. "You're being weird again."

He wants to laugh but his ears are burning. "What I mean to say is..." now or never, "I fuckin' love you."

Your heart leaps to your throat, and you almost choke on it. It's beating so fast, you feel it in every pulse in your body. "Like..." you think quickly, though your thoughts are jumbled. "Like a friend? Like Steve and Robin."

"Not at all."

You shake your head, thinking his not platonic love for you is too good to be true. "I'm confused."

He's already said it, there's no use in being shy. He chuckles, and then takes a deep breath, and then blows it out. You stare up at him, eyes gleaming and lips parted so delicately. He wants to kiss you.

"I'm..." Breathe. "I'm in love with you, Princess." And then your heart stops. You're surprised you haven't fallen in the middle of the dance floor. He holds you up with all the fondness in his heart. "I was trying not to fall for you, I wasn't going to–" he says it with the same resolve as picking up candy at the gas station, like loving you is such an easy thing to do, "–but then we started hanging out, and you ended up being really, really cool. Then, I sort of just..." He sighs, trying to find the words. "I started really liking you. Then I picked you up for that concert, and you were so gorgeous—you always are. And I picked you up tonight and saw you in this...fuckin' awesome dress, and I couldn't breathe because you're just... You're so beautiful, and–"

You shut him up with a kiss. You sit here and listen to his compliments forever, but you couldn't wait any longer to feel his lips on yours. You've wanted this for so long, craved this kind of intimacy with him since you first saw him and thought he was super weird. And he was, you were right. You often are.

His lips are soft and warm, and you love the feeling of kissing him. It sways in your chest and warms the pit of your stomach, and it tingles in your fingers and ears and you just...lean into it like it's such a natural thing. Your hand wraps around the back of his head, tangling in his hair to pull him closer. His hands tighten around your waist and pull you flush against him. Happy hands hold the other, an innocent desperation to be near.

Fuck, you love him and his stupid anxiety. You love him in all his strangeness, his eccentricities, his eager hands and giddy eyes. Kissing him is one of the best decisions you've made, and it's one you hope you can continue to make forever and ever and ever.

When your lips pull apart and you're breathing each other's air, you keep your eyes closed as your lashes flutter. "I love you, too," you whisper, pulling him even closer. Your affection for him had only grown over the last few months, from a swelling warmth to a bursting excitement that grows still with every Eddie-ism.

"Sorry it took so long," he replies, your lips brushing with his words as his hand raises to brush your cheek.

You shrug lazily. "I'm glad it happened at all," you're still so close. You forget the music is still playing, you forget people are dancing to something fast and loud, you forget people are probably staring and talking and laughing and dancing and carrying on while you and Eddie are stuck in your own world, confessing and kissing and loving.

You chuckle, resting your head on his chest for a moment before lifting up again. "Chrissy'll be ecstatic."

He laughs, his hand splayed along your lower back as he rubs the spot affectionately. "Yeah, well... They certainly are."

You look over to where he motions with his head, giggling when you see Steve and Robin beaming and throwing thumbs up at the two of you, as though they were being subtle in their celebration. If you look over just a bit, you can see Chrissy smiling like it was her being kissed and loved on so sweetly. She pulls Jason with her as she joins the other two in your success—which is, in turn, their success.

You snort. "You have weird friends."

"Correction: we have weird friends."

What's mine is yours, what's yours is mine. You're okay with that.

You get giddy all over again looking at his face. "I'm so fuckin' happy right now." You lift up on your toes and kiss him again, drinking in his loving affection. When you pull away, you smile wide.

"Do you wanna go to the movies with me?" he asks, bringing an eager hand up to cup your chin.

You smile, containing your laugh. "You won't stand me up?"

He laughs, a big one that rumbles in his entire body and spreads to your own. "No, I won't stand you up," he says. "I'll open your door like a gentleman, I'll buy your snacks, I'll drive you back home and give you a goodnight kiss."

Your voice is soft, though the music shouldn't permit it to be. "Can we go back to your place?"

"Mine?" he wonders. Yours is probably better, he thinks.

"Yours is better." It's like you've read his mind, and you need to prove him wrong with his own phrasing.

He shrugs, "It's small."

You respond with your own shrug, holding him a little longer. Your thumb rubs against the back of his neck. "It feels like a home."

He hums. "Not very gentlemanly, taking you back to my place."

You snort. "Not like my parents'll notice." The way you say it makes his heart hurt. They wouldn't realize I was gone. "Your house is lived in," you say with a new gentleness. "I want to be with you." And then you get shy, shrugging one shoulder and slanting your chin down to meet it. "And maybe I just want to make out with my boyfriend."

Eddie blushes all over at the word, like he's a school boy flirting with his playground crush. "Right?" you ask quickly. "I can call you that?"

"Please do."

You purse your lips and giggle at his eagerness. You can't help it, you kiss him again. You love the way he kisses, full of smiles and warmth and a hint of desperation.

You pull back, your hand on his chest. "Does this mean you'll let me buy you gifts again?"

He rolls his eyes and laughs lightly, shaking his head before conceding with a grin. "Within reason." He couldn't say no to you, especially not now.

Your hands sit fondly at either side of his face. Your thumbs brush his skin. "I can deal with that."

And this time, he kisses you.

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yournowheregirl · 1 year

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omg thank you all for the overwhelming response to part 1 of secret-dolly-parton-fan eddie munson! here’s a part two as a little treat

[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6 + complete on ao3]

part 2: here you come again

Ever since he discovered the Off-Road a few weeks ago, Eddie’s been going there almost every week but he hadn’t joined the open-mic night since that first night. He didn’t really feel the need to, because despite his own belief, he has actually managed to move on from his idiotic crush on Steve.

Well, almost.

Eddie had sworn off his crush once Steve announced that he and Emily were going on their third date. Steve was smiling from ear to ear when he said it too, though that usual sparkle in his eyes had remained absent. Eddie didn’t think too much of it, too busy wallowing in self-pity and cursing himself for setting himself up for heartbreak once again.

So, he moved on. Went to Indianapolis once or twice, found guys with striped polos and bright smiles who tried their best to take his mind off Steve (which, due to their eerily resemblance, didn’t really work out). Focused on helping Will with his new campaign for Hellfire, teaching him the DM tricks he had learned over the years. Played with his band until his fingers almost started to bleed from strumming the guitar strings a little too hard.

And it worked. Everything’s all fine and dandy, Steve’s barely on his mind anymore (except for all the times that he is) and Eddie’s just over him. One hundred percent. Done. No more Steve Harrington for him, thank you very much.

“Emily and I broke things off.”

Eddie almost drops the two bottles of beer he’s holding, stops dead in his tracks in the middle of the spacious kitchen of the Harrington home.

“Sorry, what?” Eddie asks because there is no way in hell he heard that right.

“Me and Emily.” Steve repeats, snatching one of the beer bottles out of Eddie’s hand and taking a long swig, his Adam’s apple bopping up and down. His mouth is glistening when he sets the bottle down and Eddie’s eyes zero in on them and - dear lord, get ahold of yourself, Munson. “We broke up. Turns out she wasn’t the one after all.”

“Oh shit. Sorry about that, man.” Eddie says, trying to keep his voice under control because he should not be jumping for joy that Steve and Emily broke up. No matter how much he wants to. He should also not be fishing for more details, but curiosity gets the best of him and the next thing he knows he asking, “Why’d you guys break up anyway? I thought you said you were crazy for her.”

“I mean, I was. Sorta, but not really, I think. Don’t get me wrong, I liked her and she really is a lovely person, ridiculously pretty too but… she and I just want different things.” Steve shrugs. “She always wants to go out, be somewhere, see something, go on wild adventures every weekend and shit. And I don’t know… I mean I like that, but I also want to sit back and do nothing for a bit y’know? Just simple, easy, like what we’re doing tonight.”

Steve bumps their shoulders together and Eddie tries his very best to ignore how Steve feels so warm, even for that short moment. He tries even harder not too read too much into Steve’s words, which means he’s definitely not thinking that Steve would rather spend time with him than with the supposed girl of his dreams.

Except when, a couple of beers later, Eddie finds himself a little too tipsy to stop himself from once again, falling for Steve like a ton of bricks.

But it’s not his fault that Steve’s eyes turn this magical color hazel underneath the warm lights of the living room chandelier. Or that his cheeks are this beautiful shade of pink from the alcohol in his system. Or that Steve’s laugh after Eddie tells the world’s lamest joke, is probably one of his favorite sounds in the world.

Oh, this is bad. This is really fucking bad.

Steve slouches against him when his laughter dies down, resting his head on Eddie’s shoulder, all relaxed and warm. “I wish it was always this easy.”

“What?” Eddie asks. He’s surprised at how level his voice is considering Steve’s plastered against him like a vine that climbs up alongside a wall.

“I don’t know. Life, dating, anything really.” Steve sighs. “Nothing feels as easy as when I’m with you.”

Eddie feels his throat tighten at Steve’s confession. Not because he doesn’t feel the same. It’s the opposite, really. Everything really does feel a little easier when Steve’s around.

Everything, except this annoying crush that keeps coming back like a goddamn boomerang

“You’re drunk.” Eddie tries to laugh it off, hoping that it’ll make the heavy feeling in his stomach go away.

“I mean it, y’know.” Steve mutters. He rubs his cheek against Eddie’s shoulder and moves in just a little closer. Sighing happily once he finds a comfortable position. “You smell nice.”

Eddie knows for a fact he does not, it’s probably leftover weed smell, but his face still heats up at the compliment. “Let’s just… let’s just watch the movie okay?”

“Hmm, okay.” Steve hums, his eyes drooping already and Eddie just knows he’s gonna fall asleep within minutes.

-xxx-

Steve’s words keep echoing through his mind the next few days and Eddie’s feeling more restless than usual - if that’s even possible - and on Wednesday night, he drives off to the Off-Road again.

The drive itself calms him down just a little but as soon as he sits down at Pat’s bar, the feeling of dread washes over him once again. Not even the soft June Carter song that’s playing in the background is able to cheer him up right now.

“Geez Ed, you look madder than a wet hen” Pat says as she puts down Eddie’s drink on the bar. “Tell ol’ Pat here what’s going on.”

“Fuckin’ straight boys.” Eddie mutters, leaning his head on his hands. He’s moping and he knows it, but he really doesn’t give two shits right now.

Pat blinks at him. “You been fucking them or is this more like a fuck them straight boys situation? I’m only equipped for the latter one.”

Somehow, Pat’s piercing green eyes stare right into his soul and before he knows it, Eddie’s just spilling everything. “There… there’s this guy, y’know. He’s my friend.”

“Let me guess? Handsome?”

“Like a fuckin’ Greek God. It’s ridiculous.” Eddie rolls his eyes. “But it’s more than that. He’s also just… so nice. Seriously, he drives our friends around and let me host D&D campaigns at his house and he asks nothing in return. Great cook too, his brownies are to die for.”

“Sounds like a damn dreamboat. But he’s straight?” Pat sighs sympathetically.

“The straightest man you’ve ever seen.” Eddie grumbles. “And it’s fine, alright? I know it’s never gonna happen between us. But he just broke up with the girl he’s been seeing for the last month or so and then suddenly goes around tellin’ me shit like how much he likes being with me. How easy it is when we're together. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? That’s just…”

“Real fucking frustrating.” Tish adds as she passes by with a tray of drinks in her hands.

Eddie couldn’t have said it better himself. He takes a sip of his Coke, desperately wishing it was something stronger, and patiently waits before Pat speaks up again.

“I think you gotta put some distance between the two of you.” Pat says solemnly. “Now hear me out because it ain’t gonna be pretty, but sometimes you gotta take a step back to protect your own heart. And if you don’t wanna go that far, I suggest finding a healthy outlet to process your feelings because sulking like this ain’t doing you any good, kiddo.”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” Eddie rolls his eyes. “Do I look like I got the money to go to some expensive shrink?”

“Dunno, maybe some musical therapy?” Pat grins, her eyes darting back to the acoustic guitar on the wall. “You said it worked so well for you last time.”

Pat’s right. He did feel a lot better after playing Jolene the other night, it was like Dolly put all the things he was feeling right into a song. Maybe she could do the same for him now, because Eddie knows exactly what other song in her repertoire fits the situation.

He walks up to the podium once again, not even bothering to introduce himself this time because most of the patrons know him by now. He’s a little more unfamiliar with the chords this time around so it takes him a few tries before he finally gets it and the melody starts filling up the room.

“Here you come again. Just when I’ve begun to get myself together. You waltz right in the door, just like you’ve done before. And wrap my heart ‘round your little finger.”

It’s like Dolly’s been reading his thoughts these last few days because every single word just rings true in Eddie’s mind. Well, except that part about Steve’s little fingers because they are anything but little. Eddie knows, he’s spent the better half of their friendship staring at them and daydreaming about things that should never see the light of day.

“Here you come again. Just when I’m about to make it work without you. You look into my eyes and light those pretty eyes and pretty soon I’m wonderin’ how I came to doubt you.”

God, he’s so frustrated now. Steve probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing to Eddie and it’s so fucking unfair. How the hell is he supposed to move on when Steve keeps saying shit like that? When Steve continues to be a, in Pat’s words, a damn dreamboat?

Eddie strums the guitar a little harder, his voice becoming a little rougher. Almost like he’s spitting out the words

“All you gotta do, is smile that smile, and there go all my defenses. Just leave it up to you and in a little while, you’re messing up my mind and filling up my senses.”

The handful of people in the crowd are softly singing along, but it’s not like Eddie actually has eyes for them. His mind is solely focused on keeping his voice level, rather than start screaming. Maybe Corroded Coffin should do a cover of this song, should be a fun surprise for those drunkards at the Hideout.

“Here you come again and here I go…” Eddie finishes the song. He thanks the audience and slouches back into his seat at the bar, not feeling as good as he did the last time he performed here. It doesn’t feel as cathartic this time and instead there’s a hole inside his heart that no Dolly song can possibly fill.

“Feeling better honey?” Tish asks sweetly as she puts another bottle of Coke on the bar for him.

Eddie nods, even though it’s obviously a lie. Another wave of dread and restlessness washes over him. Because if he can’t turn to his mother’s favorite artist for guidance anymore, then what the hell is he supposed to do to get over his stupid crush on Steve Harrington?

Tag list: @henderdads @solosnail @unclewaynemunson @legitcookie @gothbat99 (hmu if you wanna be added to the list for pt 3!)

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #steve harrington #seriously thank you for all your kind words on this lil fic series!!#i'm blown away by your response #so happy to see you love the eddie and dolly combo as much as i do 🥰#steddie dolly parton fic tag

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