#how everything SLOTS TOGETHER MAN

[squeeegs]

one of my friends is finishing orv. it's bringing back all the finale feels.

#how everything SLOTS TOGETHER MAN #it's WILD #orv #orv fanart #omniscient reader's viewpoint #my-art

[jemmo]

Something I noticed in ep 5. After his encounter with pran in the music shop it's like pat's whole world shifts. And for the rest of the ep it honestly looks like he can't breathe properly. Almost like he's suffocating. It's at the rooftop after their lips meet he let's out a breath like he found oxygen and after their kiss it's like he can finally breathe.

oh dear anon you’re just so right. and ive honestly spent long nights thinking about nothing but this. bc it’s kind of incredible how much pat commits to pran after he realizes his feelings. his world shifts in that music shop and he’s so off kilter for the rest of the ep, so not himself, but not in a way that he’s changed. it’s more like… well the only way i can convey it is that for the eps before it, you always see pat messing around, doing some kind of shit, with his friends, with pa, and in those scenes it’s not always about pran. he has things that he’s doing and thinking about that aren’t pran. but after the music shop it’s like that part of him shuts down, bc suddenly he can’t do things that aren’t to do with pran, doesn’t understand how he could before. he pursues this way he feels so single-mindedly in order to get some kind of answers and he just abandons everything else. he’s chatting to korn but it’s about pran, he’s with pa but he’s thinking about pran, he’s doing the music contest but it’s all to do with pran. I could go on and on, but when you think about this being a pat focused or pat pov ep, the fact you don’t see him in scenes where he’s not on this pursuit to figure out his feelings for pran tells you that he really isn’t doing anything else. and you can picture him in class or say with his friends at lunch or in his dorm or at practise just being so in his own head thinking about pran or even avoiding those things so he can go to pran to figure it all out, you can see how his whole world just becomes pran, and how it doesn’t open up again until he gets in a good place with pran. you can say that yes he has that moment of relief after they kiss, but again when pran leaves he’s still in that headspace. at the bus stop and going to camp and pursuing pran, he’s not only thinking about this non stop but actually actively acting on it constantly. it’s almost like a a bug he needs to get out of his system and his body shuts down until it’s gone. just the all-consuming need to know and understand immediately, and to be in a good place with him, it’s like nothing has ever been so important. to me it just speaks to what it’s like when you know. people always say that when you fall in love, you’ll just know, that it’ll be different. and for pat, who has liked and dated others, to have this experience, it’s like he does finally know. it hits him, this is it, this is what they talk about, this is what love is, and just that simple fact turns his world upside down.

#thank you anon I think I needed to get a pat rant out of my system #this is just #so fucking good #that single minded pursuit of his to understand #it’s like he can’t handle not knowing can’t handle the grey zone the confusion the not knowing where he stands #it’s like he has to figure out his place and then Pran’s place and how that fits together and even if it does fit together #and he won’t be able to rest until it all slots in to place and everything is right #when you think about pat you don’t always think about him being a man that needs stability #but god does he need stability #he thrives on stability #he needs to know where everyone stands and he needs it to all work #when things are up in the air when things are undecided and unresolved he just can’t handle it #and that’s why I think he’s always been ok #bc he’s always had pran there as a constant #pran was his stability #and when pran was taken away he lost that stability and that’s when things fell apart #bc he couldn’t find stability with anyone or anything else #he acted out and forght and all that time just never felt right with himself #until that stability returned #and he becomes stable for a bit #but then there’s that fear of oh god but if things change between us and I lose that stability what then #but at the same time the moment the pin dropped he’d already lost grip #he becomes unstable and the one person that can stabilise him is the one person that’s making him unstable in the first place #and that’s why he can’t rest until his two feet are back on solid ground #bad buddy #badbuddyrewatch

[neckromantics]

We live for a clingy Astarion.

One that can't keep his hands off of you once he's finally got you all to himself.

How he curls his pointer fingers into the waistband of your trousers and yanks until you're flush against him. Grabs a cheeky handful of your ass when you lean in for a kiss, cups your face with his free hand just to feel as it grows hotter, guides you until your mouths are slotting together in that languid push and pull that never fails to have goosebumps rising along the skin of your arms.

It's absolutely perfect. The warmth of you. The little sounds you keep making into his mouth when he swirls his tongue around yours just so. The steady rise and fall of your chest against his own, unmoving one. He's so spellbound that he's forgotten to breathe again. A moan gets trapped in his throat–comes out like an eerie creak when you tangle your fingers in his hair to drag him impossibly closer. He finally hiccups in a breath when you give a teasing nip at his bottom lip. Full on groans this time.

It never gets old, he thinks, being with you. It's rather funny.

Astarion's been as close to you as one can feasibly get, more times than he can count at this point.

Body to body. Flesh to flesh. He's been tangled up in you–has buried parts of himself so deep inside so many different ways that he often forgets where he ends and you begin. He's kissed you until his lips have gone numb from it. Held his ear close to your panting mouth to hear the sounds you make for him and only him. Committed every whine, and groan, and whimper to memory as if he'll be deaf by morning.

He's sank his fangs into the soft skin at your neck, wrists, chest, thighs–mapped out every major artery until he could find them with his eyes closed if he had to. He's swallowed down your lifeblood in greedy mouthfuls until your warmth overtook that ever-present ache in his bones. Your life becoming his own. Every time he feels his skin flush with heat, he thinks of you and the gift you continuously choose to give him.

You make him feel more alive than he's felt in over two hundred years.

But, he's an awful, greedy man. You give, and give, and give again, and he can't help but want more. Need more.

So Astarion pulls you close again, kisses you over and over, presses his bare skin to yours and basks in your warmth, and explores every curve and dip and imperfection in your perfect skin with his mouth, and tongue, and teeth. He counts the number of times he can make you say his name and how many different ways you can say it. He trusts you with everything, just as you have trusted him. He lets himself get lost in you in ways he'd never thought he'd have.

And when it's over, he lies close to you. Presses a pointed ear to the spot on your ribs where your heart beats the loudest and listens as it slows. You're tangled up in one another– parts of him buried so deep inside that neither of you are sure where he ends and you begin. You fall asleep rather quick, lulled by the lazy trail of his fingers along your goosebumped skin, wherever he can reach.

It never gets old, you think, being with him. It's rather funny.

#bg3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 tav #astarion headcanons #astarion smut #astarion fluff

[becomingmina]

Hii, I loved your „Favourite time and place to eat you out” for skz. Can you do the one with favourite time and place for you too go down on them?

thank you, xoxo

Thank you for the request!!!! @leeknowlover99 💌 This was so fun. (Not proofread 🙃)

Chris/Bang Chan: In bed after he comes back from practice.

Chan hops out of the shower and makes his way over to you, who’s occupied with your book on the bed. He is in nothing but his towel wrapped around his hip, water still dripping from the ends of his curly hair into his broad shoulder.

“Hi baby,” he says happily, hopping on the bed positioning his pillows behind him so he’s comfortable.

“How was practice?” You asked putting down your book and directing all your attention to your boyfriend.

“Good. Everything went well but it went on for so long.”

“Should I reward you with something then? For practicing so for long? You asked back sweetly and he just nods, patting his covered thigh. You peeled back his towel, meeting his half harden dick. Soon you were slotted in between his legs with your ass up, eyes looking up at Chan taking his dick in your hand and slowly licking it to get him fully hard.

“Need more please baby,” he whimpers under you and without teasing your sweet boy any longer you take him to the back of your throat and gagging around him. Chan is unable to resist it when you take care of him. It makes him feel so small and loved, it gets him so soft and calm after a long day at practice.

Lee know/Lee Minho: In the kitchen when you help him bake/cook.

“Let me help you,” Minho comes up from behind you to give you a back hug, moving the spoon from your hand pretending to help you stir the batter, just so he can press his hard on to your ass.

“Min..” you scolded but not moving from him.

“What? I just wanna help you make our cupcakes,” you can feel him smirk in your neck.

“It’s pancakes we’re making by the way,” you giggled turning around, tiptoeing to peck his lips. “If you want your dick sucked just ask?” Your hands rest on the waistband of his shorts not breaking eye contact.

“I want my dick suck,” Minho giggles back and instantly you kneeled down dragging his shorts with you, coming into contact with his hard member that’s sprung free slapping against his lower abdomen. His hands make the way to move your hair out of your face and he watches you take him inside your mouth at your own pace. “Bunny, we should cook together more,” Minho can’t control himself when you take on wifey duties. He just loves how good you are at it and thinks it’s hot when you’re focused on getting everything perfect.

Seo Changbin: Recording room, late late at night.

It’s become a traditional thing now to tag along with Binnie at 2am when he says he needs to go back to work on the tracks for the next album. You continue to lie to the rest of 2racha and Hyunjin that you’re just there for moral support and that Binnie gets scared at that time of night, but you’re pretty sure they know what you two are up to, especially when nothing on the tracks are edited or fixed when they look into it the next day.

“What if I record the sounds one day and just slap it on one of our thrist tracks?” Bin says as you pull down his pants a little releasing his hard dick already dripping with pre cum.

“Well then you have to give me credit for it,” you smile up at him taking in the sexy smirk he gave. You keep your eyes on him witnessing the way his mouth open a bit and how his eyes are shut tight as you begin to swipe around his tip.

The sloppy wet sounds starts to fill up the recording room while you bob back and forth on his length with the help of his hand behind your head. Bin loves when you go down on him in the recording studio as he is able to let out his loud moans and whimpers without anyone hearing them.

Hwang Hyunjin: On his bed after his goes live.

I loved that one live when he is in his cute pyjamas pants and he’s man-spreading on the fkn bed. I want him.

“Do you guys like my pyjamas?” Hyunjin just becomes so cute yet such a tease when he goes on live. You watch him manspread on the bed, eyes landing down on his crotch every now and then to signal to him what you want. He catches on but continues to talk to his fan teasing you a little bit longer - before letting you get what you’ve been yearning off of course.

He turns off the phone after saying good bye and you pulls you into his lap. You start to shower him with kisses from his face down to his neck then down his body over his clothes. He spreads his legs a bit wider and now you sit in between him leaning on your knees.

“Hyun, please?” You press a kiss over his covered cock and waits for him to approve your request. He guides your hand to rest on his thighs and the does all the work pulling down on his pants finally releasing his red hot dick. You gulped at the sight, giving it big widen eyes, wanting to taste it immediately but being the good and obedient girlfriend you are, you wait until he verbal confirms.

“Make me cum doll,” he guides his length into your mouth then his fingers move to caress yours, which was still on his thighs. Your moans are muffled by the way you deep throat him “I love when you get all needy for me when I pay attention to stays. You look so cute with your mouth all full-” he moans trying his best to stay in control even though Hyunjin knows he’s was close to painting your throat white.

Han/Han Jisung: Bathroom stall during dinner.

“I want to cum,” Ji whispered to your ears.

“Not here, wait till we get home,” you whisper back but he shakes his head no. You’ve been riling him up, palming him through his jeans the minute you guys entered the restaurant. Well to be very honest, he started it first hiking his hand from your thigh up during the car ride to dinner.

“Need you now, I want your mouth,” you instantly shiver at the words. Ji was loud in bed so you know it wouldn’t work sucking him off in public because you guys were bound to get caught. But there was a bit inside of you that wanted to punish Ji for getting you aroused. You wanted to see how if he can last without letting out a moan, so you agreed.

“If you stay quiet for me, you can top when you get home,” you provoked him, his eyes wide open. It was something he’s been asking for ever since you guys fucked.

Ji followed you to the bathroom telling the guys you needed help to undo your playsuit, everyone brushed it off. You pull him into the toilets and backed him against the door undoing his belt and pulling down his jeans and boxers to pull around his ankles. You lick a stripe from his balls to his tip and Ji right away let out a loud moan.

“Naughty boy, you won’t get to top later,” you chuckled up, halting your movements, taking him his is fucked out appearance. “But you’re lucky I’m only hungry for your dick tonight,” you reassured him before gripping his base and directing him in your mouth. Ji continues to let out his beautiful loud moans, not caring about who is behind the other side of the door.

Felix/Lee Yongbok: In dressing room before he heads on stage. Have you guys seen skz’s documentary for the 5-star dorm tour? At 20:43 🥵 Because gosh, he’s just so messy there and it’s so so so hot.

Felix was angry with himself. He wasn’t able to get his moves precise and with the concert on tomorrow he had no other options but to bottle up his stress to himself.

“You okay baby?” You asked noticing his demeanour. Felix usually has a lot to say when reviewing his performance or trying on his stage outfits but you detected how silent he was getting. “You need to relax baby, let me help you,” and with that you drop onto your knees and cling his grey sweat pants that was already sitting low on his waist, pulling them down. “Not wearing anything under? Always ready for me hey baby?” You look up at him lustfully, already getting yourself dick-drunk at the sight of his length.

Something about mad Felix got your heart pumping. He looks so gorgeous with his fluffy messy hair and his (yours) headband holding it away from his soft features which was now tensed. You pump him a few times before sticking out your tongue waiting for him to take control. Felix guides your head onto him as he thrusts your mouth, bitting his bottom lip to conceals his moan.

“Mhm- Y/n I love it when you come rehearsal with me,” he praises you as you suck the soul out of him. “Always knowing how to calm me down.. Gonna cu- I’m gonna cum,” and shortly with a hard plunge he releases his warm seeds down your throat. “Thank you baby,” he cooed out of breathe, pulling back to wipe your lips with his thumb.

Kim Seungmin: Waking him up in the morning.

Seungmin is just such a hot boyfriend 🥲

You feel something hard just sitting ontop of your ass when you woke up. Oh someone’s horny already you thought to yourself and grind back on it. You were expecting your boyfriend to grip your waist for you to stay still but he doesn’t. The arm that was draped around your waist stayed perfectly still. You tried again, this time harder, “You awake Minnie?”

“Mhm- baby,” a soft whimper slips from his mouth. Oh Seungmin was still asleep and hard. You could some fun from this. You turned around and push him on his back then completely removing the blanket off him. You palm him to see any sign that he was awake yet but none, he was still.

You pull down his shorts a little to release his morning wood, leaping out to hit his lower abdominal. As you press a lick to his tip his hand sprung from his side and gripped your hair, getting up from the bed to witness your little mischief.

“I’m awake but continue princess,” he says before guiding you down on him. He leans his head back onto the pillow taking in sharp breaths as you go all the way, nose hitting his pelvic bone. “I should fake asleep more often knowing my perfect girlfriend would make me cum even without me asking.”

Yang Jeongin: When he is in a middle of a game.

You’ve been dying for his attention all day and Jeongin knows it. But he was too occupied in a game with Felix and Seungmin for boyfriend duties just yet.

“Baby, if you want me so bad, just suck me off and I’ll give you sex after this round,” he taunts you. You crawl under the computer desk and he helps lift his hip to shimmy down his pants before his dick is free. You jerk him off a little then start to press little kisses on it to get him to harden. You begin to bob up and down in his length making sure it hits your throat every time and in returns Jeongin squirms. Jeongin could barely focus on the game now that you were stimulating him.

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” his hand retracts from the keyboard and onto your hair helping you. “Keep going, please.. Don’t stop..” Jeongin’s gets all pouty and whiny as he is about to cum. You notice hips lifting off the computer chair and you pull yourself off him stopping him from his orgasm. He looks down at you confused, brows scrunched up, lips pursed together in a pout.

“I still want to keeping sucking you baby, you can’t cum yet.” Jeongin was in for a ride.

#becomingmina #skz smut #chan smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #skz hard thoughts #stray kids smuts #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #skz request #skz headcanons

[ki-yomii]

personal taste | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader ➥ word count | 1.3k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; established relationship, teasing, bent in half, premature ejaculation, implied cum play, implied oral (f receiving), inexperienced!jk ➥ summary | jungkook gets a little too excited and cums early, but he's more than happy to make it up to you. ➥ notes | ✌️idk man, its 2 am. i hope you enjoy lol

💚 masterlist | inbox | AO3 💚

It was safe to say Jungkook wasn’t the most experienced of lovers when you first get together. Idol life consumed his adolescence, and by the time he’s a young adult, too many eyes are on his every waking move.

A quick affair is rarely worth the effort, and the ones that are leave much to be desired. Relegated to liquor-soaked make-out sessions, and quick, dirty fucks that leave him filled with more sweat and regret than satisfaction.

You’d only been dating a few months when he divulged why he got so jumpy any time your hand grazed his thigh, why he broke off your kisses before they got too heated.

He was adorably shy when he expressed how anxious he was about his performance in the bedroom; how the reality might not live up to your expectations.

But he shouldn’t have worried, having more than made up for any shortcomings with his eager to please attitude and boundless enthusiasm.

The number of times you’ve had sex since getting together can be counted on one hand, but he’s leaps and bounds ahead of where he was when you first started being intimate.

It certainly helps that Jungkook is a dedicated student; throwing himself, as he does with everything in life, full throttle into any and all efforts to learn the secrets of your body.

A quick learner, it isn’t long before he can make you cum with a skillful twist of his fingers, a harsh rut of the hips that settles him so deep inside your pussy, your thighs tremble.

Not only is he able to wring orgasm after orgasm out of you, his stamina is insane. Almost to the point where you’re having trouble keeping up with him, having to take little breaks between rounds to gulp down water and catch your breath. 

So… when it happens, it’s altogether unexpected.

But so fucking filthy hot you’re pretty sure you astral project to a higher plane of existence. 

You’d been teasing him all day: the brush of your hand across his ass, the skim of your knuckles over the crotch of his pants, pressing close against the wide berth of his back and whispering soft, nasty little nothings into his ear.

Delighting in the blush that crept up the sides of his neck. The cherry red burn of his ears as he gulped, readjusting himself before shooting you a glare.

Jungkook lasts longer than you give him credit for, though that’s most likely due to his competitive streak. He breaks all the same; however, shoving you into his bedroom as soon as the door to his apartment closes behind you.

So needy and desperate he can’t wait any longer, even if the rest of the boys are due to arrive in an hour.

You only just got undressed, the bed creaking under the combination of your weights when he cages you beneath him. His chest flexes with every hurried breath, his ribs expanding with labored puffs of air. His cock bullies its way inside your pussy, hips slotting into place against yours.

“J-Jungkook,” you whine, your toes digging into his sides as your thighs fall open across his. “So deep, I - haaah -”

The fat head of his cock nudges against your cervix with every little rut, sparks of pain fissioning out and deepening the warmth fizzling behind your belly button.

Thick and long, he stuffs your pussy to the brim every time without fail, stretching you wide until tears cling to your lashes and your nails dig into his shoulders.

It hurts no matter how long he spends prepping you, but you like it better this way. The pain only enhances the pleasure; deepens, and darkens.

And knowing he has to force his cock those last few inches because your pussy can’t take it without assistance always riles you up.

Makes you needy and desperate to take everything he can give like a good girl.

“Mm, I know, baby,” Jungkook’s breath hitches as his teeth tug on his lip ring, his eyes - half lidded and greedy - shadowed by the sweaty curtain of his bangs, “Feels so ffuh - fucking good inside you.”

“Hhn!” Your fingers inch up the corded muscles of his forearms, caressing over the whorls of ink as they shackle themselves to his elbows as he bends you in half. “Right there, right there. Jus like - ohmygod! - like that.”

Jungkook grunts, rocking into the cradle of your hips harder, the shaft of his cock dragging almost completely out only to slide to the hilt in one thrust. His pelvis grinds against the swollen bud of your clit as he holds himself there, your slick smearing into his skin.

He curses under his breath when your walls flutter, trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Shit! Don’t - don’t do that, baby. I can’t - hnggg - I can’t -”

And then his cock throbs hard once, twice.

A litany of soft, breathy exhalations of pure pleasure accompanies the slick echo of your bodies crashing together. Then his head bends low, the dark briar of his hair clinging to his temples. His jaw drops slack, and a devastated moan punches out of his throat.

Muscles ripple into a full body shiver, Jungkook’s sharp hips stuttering against the backs of your thighs. Sticky warmth floods your cunt, and his hazy, lust-blown eyes stare into yours as he pumps you full of cum.

You groan, blinking up at him, “Did you just-?”

Jungkook’s arms buckle.

Flopping down onto you, a sweaty, panting mess, he tucks his hot face into the crook of your neck. Moist breath puffs across your skin, a ticklish awareness skittering down your spine. Goosebumps rise along your arms.

His heartbeat hammers against your ribs.

“Yeah, I - I…” Jungkook huffs, his nose dragging over the length of your collarbone, tongue flicking over your skin when he licks his lips. “I did. ‘m sorry, baby.”

Breathing in through your nose, you card a hand through his sweaty hair. Swallow down the pleading whines sitting on the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to embarrass him any more than he probably is.

He hasn’t cum this quick since the early days, and you’d rather not ruin the evening by making him spiral.

So even when your pussy flutters, trapped on the edge of an orgasm as his cum leaks out of you, you bite down on your impulses. Resign yourself to being horny for the foreseeable future until you can sneak away and take care of yourself with a vibrator.

“It’s alright, Kook. It happens.”

Your eyes close, and you breathe through your nose, trying to calm the gallop of your heartbeat.

Relaxing seems almost impossible with Jungkook’s constant shifting, but you try your best to get your body on the same page as your mind.

Only for all efforts to go to waste when Jungkook shimmies down between your thighs. The tips of his hair tickle your skin, your lower belly jumping at the sensation.

Furrowing your brow, you peek down at your boyfriend. “Kook, what’re you--?”

Broad palms caress your hips, Jungkook using his thumbs to trace over the jut of bone. His chest glitters under the light, the muscles shifting under his skin almost mesmerizing as he settles on his belly. Forearms hook over the tops of your thighs, and his dark eyes flash with hunger.

His mouth pulls up into an impish smirk. “Can I?” he asks, dropping his gaze to the apex of your thighs. “Please?”

He giggles when he sees how flustered you get. Syrupy sweet, boyish; altogether too endearing for the current circumstances.

“...Are you serious?”

You can’t deny the fresh wave of desire the thought brings - Jungkook with his thick fingers, his tender mouth and soft tongue stroking over swollen, abused flesh - but flap a hand between your bodies in a vague gesture all the same.

“Isn’t that kind of - you just, y’know?”

You aren’t the only one affected by the idea, Jungkook’s cock jerking feebly where it rests against his thigh. A pink tongue flicks out to run along the length of his red-bitten bottom lip, toying with his lip ring as his teeth sink into the soft flesh.

He regards you with predatory anticipation.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I’ve always wondered what we taste like. Please let me.”

Well… who are you to refuse?

#jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook fic

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, financial abuse, reader is implied to be a sugar-baby/sex worker, unbalanced power dynamics.

Mei is a woman who can put a price on anything.

You've seen her talents first-hand. Hell, you'd only gotten together in the first place because she decided you were a commodity worth the expense, or in her words, because 'you'd be more valuable with me than anywhere else'. Some of her earliest gifts were little more to foder to prove that she had enough wealth stowed away to not only afford you, but make you hers exclusively - skin-tight diamond chokers, ornate harnesses strung with crystals and pearls, rings studded with pale sapphires that were nearly too heavy to lift. You'd kept the pricetags from everything she gave you in a drawer in your shoebox of an apartment, and as a show of kinship, she decided to keep you.

Really, you could only be thankful you fell into the hands of someone so appreciative. As someone so easy to buy, you can't think of a customer more suited to you than Mei.

Your relationship's too far along for her to be so blatant with her intentions, now, carrying a pretense of affection that means she can't slip you a stack of bills and tell you, in no uncertain terms, that you'll be spending the night with her, but she still finds ways to mark you, to make sure she's always going to be the majority shareholder of your time. All your clothes are tailor-made, her initials embroidered into everything she has designed for you, and you can't remember the last time you wore a scent that she hadn't personally selected. She's careful with what she owns, but not so careful that she isn't willing to offer you tens of thousands of yen to wear the lipstick stain she left on the side of your throat like a designer product. She has a jealous streak, despite how indifferent she tries to act. That, or she just doesn't like it when other people tamper with her investments.

It's become an ongoing joke between the two of you - her possessive habits and your attempts to provoke them. You'll straddle her thigh and slot your chest against hers and pout as you ask how much she thinks the white-haired man across the room would offer for an hour with you, and she'll purse her lips and assure you that none of her 'coworkers' could afford such a gem. Once or twice, you've managed to pester a real answer out of her, always something in the millions and delivered in a clipped tone that meant it was time to stop asking, but more often, she'll take you by the hips and ask you if you plan on replacing her so callously. It's a fair reaction. You can't say she's ever made you think you might be up for sale.

When you can't bite back your curiosity, you drape yourself across her and ask how much she would give up to have you permanently, to keep you at her beck and call without having to stifle herself with allowances and borrowed platinum cards. She likes that question, practically purrs as she promises that, to her, you're priceless. It should be more comforting than it is, but somehow, you can't shake the implication that it's something she's considered, that if there was an amount she could forward to some unknown account, she would've done it long before you'd ever made the offer. You're glad she came to the conclusion she did. You're glad that, no matter how entitled she acts to every fiber of your being, every second of your time, she knows she'll never actually own you.

You're glad that, if she changed her mind, if she ever put a price on your head and decided it was worth the loss, she's kind enough not to tell you that you've already been paid for.

#woman loving wednesday #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #yandere mei mei #mei mei x reader #mei x reader #yandere mei #yanderecore #yancore

[luveline]

PLEASE I NEED MORE STRIPPER READER X AARON

cw reader is able to wear hotch's clothes, adult theme mdni

Your hands ache. You have calluses on your palm, unsightly, but if you were to soak them off you'd bleed. 

The club is practically dead. You can get away with a low effort routine —old men and day drunks don't care what you're doing so long as they can see your chest. The level of undress is your choice (though the girls willing to dance fully nude get the better slots, obviously), and you've been doing this for long enough that it doesn't really bother you when a patron shouts for you to take your bra off. Your hand is slipping behind your back for the clasp when you notice him near the bar. 

Agent Hotchner —you can call me Hotch— usually catches your attention and leaves. A quick nod after he's met your eyes, he'll wait for you to get dressed and meet him out front near his intimidating car. But today he watches even after you smile hello, and someone close by throws a ten at your feet like you'd been smiling for them. He's expressionless. 

It's far more difficult to finish your dance knowing he's watching. He doesn't stay for long, ten seconds at most, but those ten seconds are much longer than he's ever watched you perform before. 

You finish your dance, collect your tips, and trudge back to the dressing rooms. You would've made more money if you'd stripped down. Not much considering the small audience, but some. You can't explain why seeing Hotch had made you stay your hand, maybe because he's one of the only men you know who treats you like you're fully human. You don't want that to change.

It's colder outside than it was when you arrived. Traffic is picking up as people leave their jobs for the day, and the club will be busier in the night hours. You'll stay, hopefully make enough for food this week. 

"Are you warm enough?" he asks immediately. 

"I didn't bring my jacket." You shrug. "I'd rather be out here with you." Than go back inside, no matter how cold. 

He opens his trunk with a click of the key fob and disappears behind the tail end. You can see his arm move, a bundle of black fabric. His arm flexes as he closes the trunk, and his eyebrows have hooked together when he returns to you. 

"Here," he says, "it should fit." 

Just a simple charcoal quarter zip. You shrug it on over your clothes and find yourself immediately greeted by the smell of men's cologne. His cologne. 

"What can I help you with today, Mr. Hotchner?" you ask. You're flirting in that useless way where it doesn't mean a thing, and he knows that, because, as you've come to find about these special agents, they know everything. 

"I wanted to ask you to dinner." 

"Oh, I don't… I don't do the escort stuff," you say gently. 

"I know." He turns his head away from you. "I realise that it's unprofessional. I know it puts you in an uncomfortable position to say no. But I want to take you out for dinner, if you'd let me." 

You stare at him. "I won't sleep with you after one fancy dinner–" 

"It's not like that." He speaks so calmly, so quietly. 

It doesn't make any sense. He's a professional man in a successful career, with a son if you remember correctly, and a circle of peers his own age and status. If he doesn't want to fuck you, if he really wants to take you out for dinner, that's a date. 

"What, you want to be my boyfriend?" you ask, shaking your head, lips pulled down in a frustrated frown. 

"I– well, if things went well, I wouldn't be opposed to it." He laughs. 

"Are you messing with me?" 

"No, I'm sorry. I just wasn't prepared for the question." 

He meets you head on. Face to face and eye to eye, he looks at you with, for once, a completely readable expression. It's a bit startling. The slight lift to his brow and his half-smile, it's an expression that says, If you want to. It puts all the choice in your hands. 

"I know we don't know one another that well, I," —his eyes soften another shade, tenderness like no one's ever given you— "wanted to make my intentions clear to you. I didn't want to continue our professional relationship and then pull the rug out from under you later." 

You know Hotch through car rides, mostly. He's taken you home from a couple of places now, usually after he's asked you questions about someone or something to do with the sex trafficking ring currently being squashed in Virginia. He's nice. You've told him without fretting about the consequences that he's handsome. When you first met, you asked him why gentlemen like him didn't come to see you dance. 

You didn't think the answer was that they might grow to have feelings for you. 

You wonder if he's just lonely. But lonely Hotch could still have a number of women that aren't you, right? 

"Like you'd never get a handle on it?" you ask, subtly teasing.

He reacts to your tone visibly. His smile gets worse, which is to say better, and his voice sounds similarly teasing as he answers, "I tried to. That's exactly what you need, another old man with the wrong idea." 

"I don't think you have the wrong idea, Hotch." 

"But you don't reject that I'm old?" 

You leap to correct him through laughter, surprised at his quick wit, and he leaps to let you know he's kidding through his own. You tell him while things are warm that you'd like to go to dinner with him, if he really means it, and he holds one of your hands like a prince, thumb ghosting over your knuckles, unafraid of the calluses on your hands. He touches you like you're made of glass. 

You try to give him back his jacket before he leaves, but he insists you keep it. "If you freeze before I get to take you out, I won't forgive you." 

Huh, you think as he drives away, waving, the sleeve of his borrowed jacket falling down your arm. Who knew Special Agent Hotchner was a flirt? 

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[007reid]

stalemate. spencer reid

join the taglist | part 1

summary: spencer reid isn't very fond of you, and that you understand. you aren't fond of him either.

a/n: this was the first spencer thing i wrote and since i cant write a lot rn , i’ll push this out for u guys!! enjoy <33 lmk if you want a p2 🤍

the team didn't welcome you coldly, but they didn't hold their arms open for you to run in, either. you understand completely. they're a family, and have worked together efficiently without you for long enough to not need a second opinion from you. yet a help wanted slot was posted and you have been waiting for an excuse to transfer out of your shitty department anyway, so you didn't have anything to loose. however, now that you sit here listening to the entire team's hearty laughter bouncing off the walls, you regret ever coming to this 'celebration,' or whatever. you regret transferring out of your old department. it was shitty, but it wasn't as shitty as this.

you feel inferior, swirling the noodles in your plate absentmindedly as you think about whether or not your old boss would let you in if you come crawling back. because you would. in a heartbeat. the bau's giggles and inside jokes were foreign to you, and you didn't want to sulk in case of ruining their mood but you can't start smiling and pretending that you fit in either; that's even worse. you would excuse yourself, saying how it's late and everything, but it's fucking seven thirty. and considering how you're surrounded by the best profilers in the fucking nation, they will read the excuses by just a single glance at your face. you'd rather not risk it.

it's not like anyone's rude to you either. you look at jj, then prentiss, then to garcia. they're all leaning into each other, completely in their element. hotch is looking at them affectionately, and you rarely see the man smile but he's smiling now, at peace. then you glance at morgan, who has his arm thrown over reid, drunkenly singing and-

reid.

it's not like anyone's rude to you, except for dr. reid, who's always on his fucking guard and keeps to himself like he's all so superior and mysterious, a man with 3 ph.d's and smarter than everyone in the room and loves to remind everyone of it.

you don't realize you were staring until he catches your eye, and you immediately look away, indignant and scowling at yourself for being caught. you stab at a piece of red pepper with your fork and aggressively bite at it. fucking doctor spencer reid, you think bitterly. he looks so miserable and irritated all the time and you hope it stays that way.

***

flashback~

it's your first day at the bau and you're so excited you can't even keep your breakfast down. you've been waiting for a breakthrough your entire career, and today is the day. you heard about what it was like working in the bau from people who have watched them. they're a family.

as you button your blouse, you grow giddy at the thought of what today would turn out to be like. everyone will introduce yourself to you, and you'll take turn complimenting each other, and then you'll find an obscure interest with every single one of them to connect over. they're a caring family, and you can't wait to receive and give some of the care as you become apart of the team. you leave with your brown bag hanging over your shoulder and a pretty, modest outfit, with your hair done not too deliberately.

the people who told you the bau is like a family was right. as you introduce yourself to them, you can't help but like these people. there is something so effortlessly cool about them, making you drawn to them immediately. jj was at the front door first, waiting to walk you in, introducing herself and the moment she finished a short woman runs towards you, jewels on her ears neck and arms clinking together as she throws herself at you, and the hug feels like one from your favorite aunt. "it's been so long since we had someone new around here!" she squealed. "i'm penny garcia!"

a woman with black hair was lingering around nearby too, and she spoke cooly and slowly, the complete opposite of garcia, "i'm emily prentiss." a man behind a cubicle poked out, his eyes kind and cheerful. he winked and said his name was derek morgan.

"you already met gideon and hotch when they interviewed you, hotch's out right now, he'll be back by afternoon. gideon's getting his morning donuts. and there's reid too," says jj. "but...hey, where's reid?"

the entire team looked around. you didn't know who to look for, but you looked around anyway.

"he was just here a second ago," penny said. "maybe he went to make copies of something."

"you'll see him later," jj brushed it off, "he haunts the place. reid is about your age, comes here early and leaves late. i'm gonna show you to your new cubicle, 'kay?"

you had nodded. jj assigned you a packet to look over, and the hour passed by with you concentrating on the packet and exchanging brief small talk with everyone to get to know them. the absent reid never showed up. by the third hour, your fingers were twitching for a coffee. you set the packet down and walked over to penny's desk, since she was the nicest and least intimidating out of all the agents. "hey," you said, slightly shy. "is there a coffee machine...?"

"oh! yeah, i forgot," she jolted from her seat. the energy in that woman never cease to surprise you. "we should've given you a tour. the lunch room is right down the hall, honey."

"grab me a coffee too while you're there, yeah?" prentiss called out to you from her desk. "black. thanks, y/l/n."

you nodded. you didn't mind picking up another cup, and doing favors for someone does make them like you better and you really wanted to fit in with the team. there was no way in hell you're going back to your old desk job; it lacked the adventure you needed and the people there had no soul to them--you shuddered at just thinking about going back there.

you found the break room with no issue and immediately bee-lined for the coffee machine. you started on prentiss' first, grabbing the green starbucks black-coffee pod from the stand. a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"she takes nespresso."

shocked, you whipped around. at the small lunch table, with papers spread everywhere was a man with brown curly hair, pushed back and out of his eyes. he looked unimpressed. you recognized him immediately; he must be the famous doctor reid who was absent from his desk all day.

flustered, you take the pod back out and puts it back in the stand, taking out nespresso. you knew better than to doubt the guy; he probably heard prentiss' voice asking for coffee and he's been around for ages, he knows what coffee she drinks. "sorry," you muttered. "she didn't specify."

he blinked slowly, and if you had just focused on his eyes alone, you would've immediately been comforted; he had kind, doe eyes, patient and gentle. the scowl on his lips and the flare of his nostrils told you otherwise, though. he didn't like you, and he's not even bothering to hide the fact. while the coffee machine whirls, you stand there awkwardly, and reid scoffed an unamused snort looking at you before turning back to his papers. you turned your back to him and stare at the steam gathering on top of the pot.

what the fuck? you didn't expect to start beef with your coworker on your first day, and yet...you rack through your mind--what did you do? maybe you offended him once on the street and he remembered your face? but you have never seen him before, you're good with faces, and if you had seen a face as pretty as his, you'd remember.

at that thought, you mentally scowled yourself. he gets annoyed just from looking at you, dumbass, you chided yourself. the coffee machine beeps, and you poured out a cup, before starting on your own.

"are you the new agent?" reid spoke again, his voice flat and emotionless but you're no newbie to the game, you knew the hostility was there.

"i am," you said, turning around and found that he was already looking at you, trying to sound as confident as possible. you thought it worked, but when his eyes racked your face for tells, you hesitated. "i'm y/n y/l/n."

"i'm spencer reid," he said. you hide your grimace. i know. "sorry i didn't come out to greet you with everyone, i was kind of caught up," he said, gesturing to the messy pile of papers on the table, but his voice didn't sound apologetic at all. you could take a hint.

"no worries," you said lightly, "i understand."

he narrowed his eyes. you repeated what you said in your head. it was a perfectly normal thing to say. what was suspicious about it? he nodded once, and the coffee machine came to save the day as it beeped softly. you turned around, poured yourself a cup, then headed for the door as fast as you could manage.

"it's nice to meet you doctor reid," you said hurriedly as you're out the door, remembering your etiquette. you want everyone here to like you, remember?

"likewise." he said shortly. and that was that.

end flashback.

***

you've been working at the bau for five months now. you'd say you know everyone pretty well, and the team made room for you to slip into their lives generously. all of them except for--predictably--doctor spencer reid. he keeps his guard up dangerously high and whenever he does decide to acknowledge or address you, it's to prove you wrong or to tell you that you're on to jackshit and you should shut the fuck up.

well. he never said that to you specifically, but you know he wanted to say it. it probably recites in his mind like a mantra.

you thought you had got along with everyone pretty well, minus the doctor you won't speak of, but now that you're sitting here at this team party, you realize you haven't made any progress at all. the team doesn't need you; since you're on the team, all they can do is to be polite to you and accept you as one of their own, but at the end of the day, they're a family and you're just the stray cat lurking outside their house looking for any spare food or love.

outside the office, jareau, prentiss, garcia, hotch, morgan and reid becomes jj, em, pen, still hotch (but more affectionately), derek and spence and you stay as y/l/n. you're tough, and it shouldn't make you feel so upset but it does. you suck it up and laugh along with everyone and you are fine with that, as long as at the end of the day, you get to throw yourself in bed and scream the frustration out into your pillow. it was starting to look up a little bit, until doctor spencer fucking reid has to go butch it all up.

jj and emily has their heads all together along with penelope as they shout out which man she should swipe right on tinder and somehow, you found yourself sandwiched in the middle of these women, genuine tears springing up to your eyes from how hard you're laughing. emily is creative with her insults and it leaves you and jj hanging onto each other shaking with laughter, holding each other in place so that the both of you wouldn't end up on the floor. you feel good. when you look up, however, you see reid's sneering, obnoxious face looking back at you, a beer on his lips and morgan talking next to him but he's more busy looking down on you. for the past five months, you've been letting it slide--emily had pulled you over once and told you how reid feels about change, and you tried to get it, you really tried, but there are limits to your trying.

you try to ignore him and turn back to penelope's phone, jj and emily oblivious and still going at it and yelling out "left! left! dear god, get that man off the screen!" but the excitement is drained out of you. you shake the thought in your head; it's not that serious, you tell yourself, but another part fights back. it is serious. he might be smarter, and more experienced, and works faster, and better, but you both have the same job. he doesn't have any right to be such a fucking dick, and what the hell did you even do? you had just walked in the office one day and when he looked at your face, he had decided immediately that he wanted you gone and have tried to express it as openly as possible ever since.

you don't understand, and you don't know what you did to deserve being so looked down and underestimated. and it hurts, too, and from just a single read of your face he must've known how much you wanted it, to be apart of the team; he's definitely doing it deliberately.

okay, the last part isn't true. you're just paranoid. you untangle yourself from the group, saying over and over again "gotta use the restroom guys...i'm sorry, i'm sorry--" and when the attention is off of you, you walk over to spencer and grabbed at the tacky sweater he has on, dragging him up.

"hey," he whines, annoyed but giving up to you easily. you can sense morgan's amused stare but you ignore it. when you're both almost out the door, he yanks himself out of your grip. "i can walk by myself, okay?" it's dark, but you know he rolled his eyes. you lead him outside to the back of the place and he follows closely behind, but not without grumbling about it. "what do you need?"

you pat your back pockets for your pack and the front pocket for your lighter. usually, you'd ask your company if they're okay with you smoking, but that's the last thing you'd be doing when it comes to spencer. cupping your hand over the cig to prevent wind, you light the cigarette up.

"you smoke?" spencer asks. he sounds surprised.

"sometimes," you inhale, keeps the smoke in your lungs for a second, and exhales, making sure most of it blows into spencer's face. you can tell that it did, but he didn't cough. poker face, you'll give him that.

you take a couple more breaths and spencer (surprisingly) waits for you silently, and when you don't feel like smoking anymore, you throw the cig on the ground and grind it with the rough heel of your boot. you look up at him.

sometimes, you get mad at spencer for how unreasonably pretty he is. he has these big eyes that you swear has glitter in them because they're so fucking beautiful in the sun and when he smiles (which is rarely, around you) the lines on the sides of his face scrunches up like a chipmunk and his eyes would crinkle until it disappears from how wide his smile is. it makes you want to bash your head inwards.

the moon, shining on his face and highlighting his high cheekbones and the wisps of his curls is not helping your case right now. you wonder how a person so beautiful can have such an ugly personality. you know that spencer's personality is not entirely ugly, though; you've seen the way he acts around the team, but when it's you, he transform into an entirely different person. no one has ever been able to tell you why. he's nerdy and giggly and has this charming, childish energy to him when he talks, and you've seen it, inside meetings you're not in and when he doesn't know that you're around.

you're sick of it. without his cruel act, you think you and spencer would make great friends. he's the only person about the same age as you in the bau, and he takes the train home, just like you do. he's afraid of walking past this creepy abandoned movie theater on his way there and you are too. you both read toni morrison and children's books. it's a shame.

you look at him, and it's the only thing you can think about. it's a shame.

"why do you hate me, reid?"

you mean for the sentence to sound demanding, like a confrontation but it comes out weak and wobbly. you feel your guts being punched out of your body from the embarrassment. you sound pathetic, and you're afraid to look up, afraid to see the ridicule on spencer's face and you wouldn't blame him for it. but all you received is silence and when you look up, spencer just looks confused. he stands there like a victim when he's the one who's been acting like nothing but a total ass to you. and that caused the rage you needed.

"answer the damn question, doctor," you say harshly. this unfreezes his out of his trance, and he looks down. it's quiet for a while, and right when you were about to start demanding again, he says, quietly:

"i don't hate you."

and it sounds like a bad fucking lie.

"you don't hate me?" you ask, your voice a lot calmer than how you feel. "you don't hate me but every time i open my mouth it offends you? you don't hate me but you sneer at me all day long, every single time i look at you you're already looking at me thinking about how fucking stupid i am. you don't hate me but on my first day you abandoned your desk to work in the fucking lunch room because you didn't want to see my face. i don't know what the fuck i did to upset you, reid, but whatever i did i don't deserve this bullshit you're putting me up with!" you didn't realize that your voice was getting progressively louder until you're yelling, unconcerned and unaware of the raging party inside. "i get that you don't like me, okay, but i-"

your yell turns into a gasp when spencer grabs your face and crash his lips against yours, aggressive and all teeth. before you could even register what's happening your body goes pliant and you unconsciously lean in, but then spencer rips away and you and shoves you forward like some cheap doll.

"what the fuck?" you murmur to yourself, trying to gain back your balance and spencer's quick to catch you swaying on your feet. his hand finds its way to your mouth.

"goddamn it y/n, keep it down," he whisper-yells. "the entire team must've heard you--"

"get off of me!" you demand, but it sounds muffled and distorted through his hand . you thrash around but he holds you steady, too firm for you to fight against.

"promise not to scream and i will," spencer grimaces. you go limp and quiet and he slowly moves his hand and then backs away, like some scared deer. "wasn't that so hard?"

you stare at him. he's leaning on the railing now, looking at the moon. the moon looks back at him.

you try not to think about the small seconds after he’d kissed you and what it meant. it means nothing. "there are better way for you to get me to be quiet," you say, a little bit angrily. you should be fuming, but you find that you no longer have the energy. he turns to you.

"i didn't think it through."

"you not thinking through something?" you snort humorlessly. "i guess there's a first time for everything."

spencer sighs. “y/n…”

it’s the first time he’s called you by your first name, and it doesn’t help his case at all. "you still haven't answer my question, reid," you say, as coldly as possible (which is not much, admittedly. all the rage you've bottled up over these past few months you've already wasted on that rant and now you just feel tired. and you want to go home).

"i'm afraid i don't have an answer you'll be satisfied with, y/l/n," spencer spits back, matching your tone. maybe even colder. it shocks you a little, how a person with that sweet of a face and voice can be this much of an asshole. it's a waste of a human, honestly.

and it's not that you're saying spencer reid is handsome, either, because handsome doesn't mean anything if the person is a jerk. but everyone can admit he's easy on the eyes. conventionally attractive, one could say. a conventionally attractive jackass, one could also say.

"you're saying you just hate on me for so reason?" you say. "i'm a profiler too, reid, not some intern running around bringing everybody coffee. i see the way you are with other people. you act like a fucking angel, kind and considerate, but when it comes to me--"

"the team, they're my family, y/l/n," he snaps, "i'm sorry for not treating you like family when you're just a stranger." and it hurt, but you give him that one. you know that you're not one of them, it's been made painfully obvious to you, on multiple occasions, each blow harder than the last. but that's no excuse to treat you like a piece of shit, like a brick laying on his way. what, did he act like that with everyone too when he first entered the job? causing scenes with emily and hoping she won't punch him in the face for it?

"i'm not asking you to treat me like family, reid," you grit through your teeth. for a genius, he can be so fucking dense. "i'm just asking you to treat me like a coworker and not some inexperienced kid who just waltzed into the place with no qualifications. is that too much for me to ask?"

he stay silent at that. a breeze visits, and his curls dance. you unconsciously wipe at your lips, the feel and memory of it still photographic on your mind.

after a while, you get tired of waiting. "if you're not going to say anything, i'm going home, reid," you say finally, not expecting a response and not receiving one. not surprised, you turned away and start to head inside. you stop by the door. "i know i'm not really 'part of the team,'" you say, scared that you might sound too honest but it's hard to care too much now, "it's too late for me to transfer back to my old department, they've already replaced me. if i could, i would, and get out of your hair. i guess i'm sorry for not being what you expected."

the moment the words slipped out your mouth, you cringe. you're starting to sound way too weak and you don't want to sound that way, especially not in front of spencer reid, who's probably going to torment and laugh at you inside his big ass head forever. you leave before you can say anything else even more stupid and humiliating. spencer doesn't leave his spot.

***

when you come into work the next morning, it's like the entire world flipped.

there's a fresh cup of coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming and the logo on it says it was from the coffee shop close to the office. when you look around, trying to find the perpetrator you catch emily's eye across the bullpen, who smirk and shrug innocently.

you stride over to her cubicle, eyes glancing briefly over spencer's. his satchel is there, but he's nowhere to be found. you set the cup on her desk, the hard paper making a loud, confrontational sound. "explain."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she says, blinking her lashes. emily can be a great liar when she wants to, and right now, it's like she's not even trying to put in the effort. you narrow your eyes. something's definitely fishy.

"yes you do. tell me."

"i don't know what you're talking about," she repeats, stubborn and sly about it. "somethings should explain themselves."

"who left coffee on my desk this morning, prentiss?" you demand, a step away from stomping your feet like a child. she's playing unfair.

"take a sip," emily says, a suspiciously plotting smile on her painted lips. "see if he got the order right."

"so it's a he," you say accusingly. "you do know who it is!"

"'course i do," she scoffs. "now take a sip."

you could only oblige. bringing the cup close to your lips, you take a precautionary sniff. "there's no poison in here, is there?"

emily snorts. you take a careful sip, clicking your tongue, judging, and then tipping your head back and getting a large gulp. it's possibly the best coffee you've ever had in your life. you don't know why you haven't visited the place earlier. it's definitely exactly what you take in your coffee, alright, but better. it's sweeter but sharper, and it tastes like heaven on earth. you could bathe in it if you could. it's godsend, and that's an understatement.

"jesus christ," you breathe, looking at the sticker on the cup in wonder. emily chuckles.

"so he did get the order right," she says proudly. "knew he would."

"emilyy," you move onto your next strategy. if pressure doesn't work, bribery will. "who bought me this. tell me and i'll bring you coffee from this place everyday for a month." it's a win-win for both sides. you're going to start visiting this place from now on anyway, might as well pick up an extra one for her. it's a small price to pay for such a sacred piece of information.

emily remains firmly resilient, not falling into your bribes. it's fair, emily takes black, and it's hard to mess black coffee up. it probably tastes the same everywhere. damn her. "two months," you challenge. nothing. "three!"

bribery, crossed off the list. next strategy. if bribery doesn't work, whining will.

"emilyy," you cry, clutching onto the coffee as you turn her chair back and forth, spinning her in frustration. "please,"

perfect timing as always, hotch passes by, coffee cup in his hand and files in the other, frown already edged on his face despite it being so early in the morning. "y/l/n," he scolds. "stop bothering prentiss and start on your paperwork. prentiss, no phones."

without another word and two eyerolls behind him, hotch walks away. you start towards your desk but you leveled emily with your best puppy eyes, but she doesn't budge. you settle at your desk, and start pulling out things from your bag. if she doesn't want to give you the information, you'll figure it out yourself.

so a guy bought you coffee. thank god there isn't many guys in the bau, making the list easier for you to narrow down. drawing up a mental checklist, you immediately cross spencer reid off, making sure his name is blacked out by a red marker, memories of last night are still floating around in your brain.

morgan is next on your list. he is a plausible target. he's a sweet talker, after all, and loves to flirt, but the person he would bring coffee to is garcia, not you. they're basically work spouses. and if it was him, why would he start bringing coffee to you now, all the sudden? and there's no way morgan would've known how you liked your coffee, he doesn't remember his own sometimes and liked to switch things up. morgan gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

hotch is next. definitely not. he doesn't even offer to pay at social events (but always end up paying). he shouldn't even be on your list. crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

rossi. rossi's got the mind storecloud of a computer, he knows everything and pays attention to everything and remembers everything. its what makes him such a good unit chief. so he definitely would've remembered how you take your coffee. he probably knows how everyone in the entire fbi takes their coffee. but if it was rossi, emily wouldn't have been so sly and secretive about it, because there's nothing special to hide. rossi gets in one of his affectionate moods sometimes and is pretty obvious about it. once he got garcia a whole box of designer chocolates, or whatever those were. rossi's name gets crossed off lightly with a number two pencil.

you evaluate your list, stumped. you start lingering on spencer reid's blacked out name, considering it before scolding at yourself. no chance.

"whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" penelope asks lightheartedly, bouncing by. she stops at your desk, an inquisitive smile on her face. you look up and she squeals. "ooh, your coffee's received!"

your attention's immediately grabbed. "you know who bought me this?"

"don't know a thing!" penelope sings. she does a zipping motion at her mouth, throwing the zip away. "ping! the zip is down the drain."

"what are you and emily hiding from me?" you demand. "however much the guy is paying you to keep quiet, i'll pay you double!"

penelope whistles, and emily spins around in her chair to face you. "that is a pretty good deal," penelope says. "but the guy paid us his loyalties, and well..."

you sigh in defeat.

"and unlimited donuts every monday from now on," emily quips.

"i can do the unlimited donuts!" you say enthusiastically. finally, something you can work with. "every monday and fridays. how about that?"

"sorry honey, no deal," penelope grins, flaunting away. emily smirks irritatingly from across the room. you go back to work, but your mind lingers on the list.

who?

***

the coffees start to become a stable. you found that it's no use picking up your new favorite coffee from the shop because when you walk into the office, there'll be one waiting for you, still hot.

the profiler gears start turning. it has to be someone who arrives only minutes before you. maybe a secret admirer from another department? but then there would be an identifying note, a card for a date or something. no secret admirer would go under the radar for that long, and how you he know how you take your coffee?

you crafted a plan. you're going to start coming to work a ten minutes earlier and hide out in the dark. it should've been an immediate solution, but its so desperate you wanted to have it as your last resort. when you have bribed and begged everyone on the team for the identity of this man since apparently the entire team fucking knows and wants to keep from you, you decide you have to pull out your one last ace.

right before the morning that you were going to do it though, the entire team got flown out to arizona.

you'll do it when you get back.

***

something is extremely strange about spencer reid.

he's been strange ever since the night you dubbed in your head as the conversation, avoiding talking to you unless he absolutely has to and when you do get partnered up together, he would treat you like an acquaintance. not a rival. it's a fresh breath of air from being the end of his cruel comments to someone he's reluctant to work with, but it's definitely an upgrade.

so you did manage to get through his thick head.

#spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #mgg #matthew gray gubler #cm #my works

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 7

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 3262

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that. 

“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”

Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late. 

You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it. 

You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.

But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him. 

You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection. 

“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.

“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”

The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.

Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling. 

Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears. 

Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand. 

His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom. 

You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”

You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way. 

—

You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop. 

But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance. 

What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.

In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well. 

Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off. 

It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you. 

Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to. 

Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.

These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well. 

That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance. 

—

When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety. 

“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”

She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”

“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.” 

Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack. 

Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.

“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.

“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”

If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would. 

Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing. 

Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.

Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.

—

You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy. 

When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now. 

After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state. 

You don’t care how you look, though. 

You care about pushing yourself forward. 

“Jake?” 

His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go. 

He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”

His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”

“I trust you,” you repeat. 

One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again. 

Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.” 

Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him. 

“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.

“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath. 

Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more. 

“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”

Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.

When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid. 

And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer. 

Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze. 

Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours. 

His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his. 

Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.

Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades. 

“Your turn,” you whisper.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plaus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

[munsonsmixtapes]

Lost Number pt. I

Here’s Part 2!

Word count: 19,805

Paring: Eddie Munson x plus size!fem!reader

CW: 18+ MDNI smut, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving)

Rhythm Riot Music Festival, Los Angeles, June, 1990

The venue was packed and if you were honest, you didn’t even want to be there. You were just trying to be a good girlfriend and cheer on your wannabe rockstar boyfriend. You never liked big crowds and the loud music gave you a headache, but you wanted to be supportive so you always stood side stage with a pair of earplugs, singing along.

Being the band’s manager, you somehow were able to book them a slot in a festival that was meant specifically for rock/metal. They were playing alongside a bunch of big names and your own boyfriend didn’t even seem grateful that you had gotten him the biggest gig of his career.

You didn’t want to admit it, but your relationship had been rocky for months. You were together but you weren’t. It was as if you both knew it was over but neither of you wanted to be the first to actually utter the words. He wasn’t the same man you fell in love with. You didn’t recognize him anymore with the way he was dressing and especially the way he was treating you and his own band mates. You would try to talk to him about it but were always met with doors slamming in your face or just straight up denial.

You paced back and forth in the hallway outside their dressing room while the band were getting ready for their performance. You weren’t allowed in because you were deemed a “distraction” despite the fact that Chris barely even spared you a second glance anymore. You were forced to wait until it was time for them to go onstage to make sure they had everything they needed even though most of the time they didn’t and they ended up being late.

One of the acts passed you having just come off stage and you couldn’t keep your eyes off the pretty lead singer as he nodded in your direction. You figured that would be it, but he stopped in front of you and you didn’t miss how he was checking you out. He crossed his arms over his chest, a smirk kicking up at the corner of his lips.

You had only ever seen Eddie Munson on TV or in magazines which didn’t do him justice. He was much prettier in person which you didn’t think was possible, but there he stood in front of you looking like something that came out of your dreams. He was dressed in a leather jacket with nothing underneath and pair of matching leather pants and you had to stop yourself from staring at his chest and the tattoos that were covering it. Even though Chris wasn’t really your boyfriend anymore, you’d never forgive yourself for cheating on him.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here by yourself?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side.

Before you could answer, the door behind him opened and the members of Void stepped out. Your boyfriend looked between you and Eddie and felt jealousy rush through him. He didn’t care if the two of you were practically broken up, you were still his and there was no way that he’d let Eddie fucking Munson steal you away from him.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you with a bright smile. He’d never called you that throughout your entire relationship. He hadn’t really called you anything except for your name. “It’s time for us to go onstage.” Honestly, you couldn’t have given less of a fuck about him. All you cared about was the absolute smoke show in front of you.

“I’ll see you after?” Chris asked, stepping over to stand next to you. He took one of your shoulder in his hand and turned you to face him before resting his hands on your waist.

“Yeah-“ you couldn’t even finish before his lips were on yours. He was quick to stick his tongue in your mouth which caught you off guard. He hadn’t kissed you like that in a long time and you wondered what had gotten into him. This was all about him. All for show. To send Eddie a message, to show him that you belonged to Chris.

You were quick to pull away, unsure of what he was doing and why he was doing it. Because it clearly wasn’t for you like he wanted you to believe. That was who he was now, the kind of guy who did things only because they would benefit him in some way.

“Uh, have a good show,” was all you were able to say. You were trying to say the right thing, knowing that the wrong one wouldn’t end well for you. He was becoming so sensitive, like you had to say or do just the right thing or else he would get angry. One wrong move and it was game over for everyone.

“That’s it?” He asked a little too loudly. “You push me away and that’s all you have to say?” He was the one who kissed you out of nowhere and he was the one who was upset?

“I-“ You tried to defend yourself but he cut you off be for you could.

“Save it. I have to get on stage. You better have a better attitude when I get back,” he pointed at you before heading to the stage, the others following close behind. You knew you should have gone with him, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Especially when most of the songs were about a relationship that you didn’t have anymore. It just reminded you of what used to be and it broke your heart that you two had grown apart so much when you were convinced that you were going to be together forever. You had laid side by side talking about how you were going to get married and now you couldn’t even remember the last time you slept in the same bed.

“Where the hell are you going?” Eddie asked Chris as he made his way to the stage. You were so in your head that you had forgotten he was even there. He wasn’t going to let Chris get away with speaking to you that way. Eddie wasn’t a saint by any means, but he’d never speak to anyone that way. Especially not his girlfriend. Chris only flipped him off not even bothering to turn around to face him. He disappeared around the corner and Eddie just let out a sigh, accepting defeat.

He turned to you to see how you were holding up and could see by the look on your face that you were tired. Whether it was because of lack of sleep or because of your dickhead of a boyfriend he didn’t know.

“I know he’s your boyfriend and all but his band fucking sucks.”

“I know,” you nodded, leaning against the wall. You hated that he was right. You tried to be supportive of Chris, but you just couldn’t. Sure, the lyrics were catchy, but they weren’t really about anything. At first, they wrote some of the most beautiful things you’d ever heard, but after they got that first check, it was like a switch was flipped. Now all they wanted was to write music that they thought people wanted to hear, not songs that actually meant anything. That would mean that they actually had to care about their work and weren’t just wanting to be paid.

That was what made Void different from the other bands in their genre. The others actually believed in their music. They poured their hearts and souls into it and it was obvious when people listened to it. It was the reason why they were all so popular. People could connect to what they were singing about and could relate to the words in one way or another.

After a while, all Void wanted was the fame, money, and girls and it showed. They never rehearsed before going on stage anymore or made sure that their instruments were tuned properly. The only reason why they even got the gig in the first place was because you had to practically beg the people who were running the event. How could you root for them when they were so bad that you had to ask for them to be invited to play?

“And no offense sweetheart, but he’s kind of a dick,” Eddie added. That was something you still weren’t able to admit to yourself. Gone was the man who’d make you breakfast in the morning and make up songs about how much he loved you while he did it. Gone was the man who you felt like you could tell anything to and he wouldn’t judge you. He was behaving like a completely different person and you felt like you couldn’t even be around him anymore.

“None taken,” you shook your head. “I’m very well aware. I plan on breaking up with him after the festival.” You actually hadn’t thought about it at all but now that you said it, you felt like you had to go through with it. You felt like you owed that to yourself. You had dealt with Chris’s bullshit long enough.

“Good for you,” he nodded. “I’d hate for you to settle.” He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you. Typical Eddie wanting something he couldn’t have. You were just so pretty and he tried to keep himself from admiring the way your outfit hugged every curve of your body.

“Well, unfortunately, I think I’m only attracted to losers.”

“That’s a real shame, sweetheart. I thought we had something going here,” he nudged your shoulder. His tone made it sound like he was joking but there was a hint of truth to his words. He had every intention of flirting with you until he found out you had a boyfriend.

“I didn’t think I was your type.”

“I didn’t think I had one.” Eddie wasn’t aware he had a type. How could he when he had only recently been getting female attention? He was still trying to figure out why women were even interested in him in the first place so who was he to deny any of it?

“Oh, you know what I mean.” You waved your hand in a dismissive manner and he didn’t like what you were implying.

“Clearly, I don’t.” He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyebrows furrowing. You hadn’t meant to offend him. You thought you were just stating the obvious. You’d only seen him with girls who looked nothing like you. They were all skinny not to mention literal models. You clearly didn’t fit into that category so you didn’t see why he would have been interested in you. It wasn’t like you cared. It wasn’t like anything would come of it even if he did.

“I’ve seen you on the covers of all the gossip magazines, okay? I know what you’re like.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “You really believe that bullshit? You know that everything’s fake. I mean, sure, I was hanging out with those girls and maybe I slept with a couple of them, but that doesn’t mean that they’re the only kind of girls I’m interested in.”

“Then what are you interested in?”

“Anything.” He stepped closer to you but still kept his distance, not wanting to push your boundaries.

“Even me?” You hadn’t meant to say that out loud but you were just too curious. If you were being honest, you had developed a little crush on the singer and had even made him your hall pass, that Chris had agreed on if he could have Whitney Houston. That was only because he never thought it would happen. But there Eddie was, shamelessly flirting with you and you couldn’t get yourself to do the same because you felt like you were betraying Chris.

“Oh, especially you, sweetheart. In this little thing?” He referred to your skirt. “Stopped me in my tracks.” Your face grew hot at his comment. You hadn’t been flirted with in a while and missed the way it felt to have someone actually be attracted to you. You wondered why you were even still with Chad when you had a man who was the total package right in front of you.

“You’re just trying to make me feel better.” You couldn’t tell whether or not he was actually being genuine or if he was just trying to get into your pants. Either way, you were going to take it. You just wanted attention and here he was, offering it up to you on a silver platter.

“If I was trying to make you feel better, I’d tell you how fucking gorgeous I think you are.” His eyes trailed down your body, taking his time to look at every inch of it and you didn’t miss how he spent a longer time on your legs. “Well, sweetheart, I should get back to my dressing room. It was nice to meet you-“ he paused, realizing that he hadn’t gotten your name.

“Y/n,” you replied, putting your hand out to shake unsure of why you were doing it.

“Y/n,” he repeated, taking his time with each syllable while taking your hands in his. “Sounds like a great song name,” he winked before reluctantly pulling his hand away. “Anyway, I’ll catch you later, alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” you nodded and he turned on his heel to head back to his dressing room. You watched him walk away until he disappeared around the corner, wondering how he managed to even make walking look attractive.

You pressed yourself against the wall and fiddled with the pass that was hanging around your neck while Void was finishing up their set, wondering what the fuck just happened. You had just had a conversation with Eddie Munson and you didn’t sound like an idiot like you thought you would have if you had ever gotten the chance to meet him. He liked you and had even flirted with you and you hadn’t done the same in fear that your boyfriend would have found out. You didn’t know why you cared. Chris would have jumped at the chance to sleep with his celebrity crush and you were still faithful to him despite the fact that you knew that he was probably (definitely) cheating on you.

Your ears perked up as Chris announced that they were going to play their last song which just so happened to be their most popular. You wondered what people would have said if they found out that you wrote it despite not having any credit on the song at all. Chris had found the lyrics in your notebook and passed them off as his own in a writing session. You didn’t want to embarrass him so you called him out as soon as you were alone with him, but he couldn’t have given less of a fuck that he had hurt you.

Not only had he invaded your privacy by going through your private journal, he had given the song away which had ended up on their debut record and had quickly become their most popular song to date. There was something so sick and twisted about him profiting off of a song that you had written about how horribly he had treated you. He used your pain and turned it into something that would make him money while you hadn’t seen a single dime. It had gotten to the point where you couldn’t even be proud of it because it was tainted by your greedy boyfriend and his bandmates.

You headed to the dressing room and sat on the couch, awaiting the band’s arrival. If you didn’t, they were more than likely to leave without you, you practically being an afterthought to them. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself, but you knew that it wouldn’t have made any difference if you weren’t there. All of your suggestions were always met by vetos because God forbid a woman actually had a good idea. They treated you like their servant and you were starting to wonder why you had stayed so long. It certainly wasn’t the money since they weren’t paying you and it definitely wasn’t because of your piece of shit boyfriend.

It was about time that you stood up for yourself and did things that you actually wanted to do. You didn’t want to get their coffee or cigarettes or hem their pants because they were too long. You were over restringing their guitars and tuning them only for them to need new strings and another tune after one performance. You were tired of them taking advantage of you and you weren’t going to take it any longer. Void could find another manager, one who was more cut out for the job. And Chris could certainly find another woman to satisfy his needs. He wouldn’t miss you and you definitely wouldn’t miss him.

The door swung open and Chris entered the room followed by Joey and Max. They were all laughing about something but it quickly came to a stop when they locked eyes on you. You could see Chris’s eyes form into a glare. It was the kind of look that someone would give their enemy, not their significant other.

“What are you doing here?” He spit. Like he didn’t want you there and you knew he didn’t. He never wanted you around unless it benefitted him.

“I was waiting on you.” His eyebrows furrowed at your words as if he was confused. You always waited for him to get off stage, you just didn’t do it in his dressing room.

“Why?” The words came out like he was offended which you thought was weird. Why wouldn’t he want you to wait for him? He used to love coming back to you but now he was treating you as if you were a piece of gum that got stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

“To tell you that I quit.” You crossed your arms over your chest and you kind of liked that he was getting angry. It showed how much he relied on you and how fucked he was going to be when you were gone.

“Quit?” He let out a laugh as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. “You can’t just quit, y/n. We have a contract.” Did he mean the contract that he typed up one night when he drunkenly suggested that you should be Void’s manager? Back when he still thought you had good ideas. Back when he still loved you.

“Which isn’t legally binding so I can quit if I damn well please and I do.” You stood up from the couch with a newfound confidence, feeling a thousand pounds lighter. “Also, I’m breaking up with you.” The three boys’ mouths dropped open, like they couldn’t believe what you were saying. Chris’s eyes quickly turned dark, a look that always scared you.

“No you’re not,” he let out a chuckle. He wasn’t going to let you leave. You couldn’t. Not when he still had laundry that needed to be done and his guitar needed to be tuned.

“I am, actually. I’m leaving tonight and getting on the first plane out of here.” You had no idea how you were going to do that, but you were going to figure it out. You needed to get the fuck out of there and you needed to do it right then.

“With what money?” He laughed and Joey and Max joined in, the three of them laughing hysterically at you. For once, you didn’t feel embarrassed.

“Oh, believe me, I can find some.” You were sure that there were plenty of nice men in the city who would be happy to lend you some money.

“This is bullshit,” he shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing. He was angry and for the first time, you didn’t care that you had upset him. It was what he deserved for being a piece of shit.

“No, whats bullshit is how long I stood by your side taking your terrible treatment.” You shook your head. “I’ve been nothing but loyal to you while you’ve been fucking other girls behind my back.”

“I-“ He eyes were darting around the room as if he was he was avoiding making eye contact with you. He definitely was. You were right and he didn’t want to admit it. He was a selfish prick and had been too caught up in his own life to see how terribly he had treated you. Maybe if he could have apologized, you’d would’ve stayed.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I saw the Polaroids. Not only that, but I’m fucking tired of being treated like garbage. I’m a human. Did you forget that? You must have since all I seem to be to you is a servant. You’re a dick and so are you,” you pointed to the other boys. “Well, good luck, you guys. You’re gonna need it.” You grabbed your purse and made your way to the door and slammed it as soon as you were out of the room.

Before you realized what you were doing, you were heading to the bathroom in angry stomps, muttering to yourself about what had just happened. He had laughed at you when you told him that you were going to leave. The only reason why you didn’t have any money was because he had used up any little bit you had. Whether it was asking to borrow a twenty before he was supposed to be paid or just straight up stealing it from your wallet, you never seemed to have enough for yourself.

You shut yourself in one of the stalls and before you could stop it, tears were streaming down your face. Whether they were of happiness or sadness you didn’t know. All you knew was that you were relieved. You felt a huge weight lift from your shoulders. It was like you could finally breathe again, as if Chad had been suffocating you all those years. You were finally free and there was nothing he could do to stop you or make you stay.

You reached for some toilet paper only to find that the roll was empty, the only thing left being the cardboard. That only made you cry harder. Couldn’t you have anything? You had barely any money to your name to get a flight home, no where to go after the festival since you shared an apartment with Chris, and no friends that were your own. You were fucked and it was finally settling in. Maybe if you begged, he’d let you stay with him just until you got back on your feet. Fat chance. He’d probably already have someone else by the time you got back home with your stuff at the curb while the two of them laughed at you from the open window.

You exited the stall and reached for a paper towel before dabbing at your tears then fixing your smudged makeup with what you had in your purse, making sure there were no remnants of your tears. You’d be damned if anyone saw you cry. Especially over a man. You wanted them all to think you weren’t affected. You wanted them to think that you were nothing but a bad bitch.

After you fixed your hair and makeup, you fled the bathroom before taking the band’s car to head back to the hotel. You were surprised that they hadn’t left yet and were even more surprised that the driver had believed you when you told him that the band told you to go ahead.

You looked out the window and tried not to think all of the problems you caused for yourself. Maybe that was why you stayed with Chris for so long. Not because you wanted to make it work, but because you were scared of what it meant for your future. Now you actually had to think about it and hated how much he had fucked up for you. Of course you had moved into his apartment so you had nowhere to go when you finally got home. You supposed that you could live in your car until you got a job and saved enough to find somewhere to live more permanently. That was, if you actually found a way to get home. All you had was five hundred dollars to your name, which you were grateful to have anything, but that would have only covered your flight, not leaving much for anything else you were going to need.

The car pulled up to the hotel and you felt the tears fall again as you entered the building. You held it all in until you got to the elevator. Once the doors closed, you collapsed to the floor and let it all out, grateful that you were the only one there. You let out a loud scream out of frustration and felt relief rush through you as you did so. It was almost therapeutic in a way. It was years of repressed emotions that you were finally able to feel. You had bottled them up for so long that you were sure that they had to come out eventually and here they were, finally being able to breathe.

You exited the elevator when it stopped on your floor, wiping the tears from your face, grateful that no one else had been in the hallway. You opened the door to your room, still pissed that you had to share with Chris because you didn’t have enough money for your own room. You threw your bag onto the bed and frantically packed up your belongings into your suitcase, practically tearing the room apart partially in anger and partially because you couldn’t even find anything in the pig sty that Chris had created.

You rifled through the drawers on your side of the bed, finding all of your smaller belongings like your sleep mask and vibrator which you hadn’t even gotten a chance to use because Chris had always been in the room. You sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to satisfy you so you had to take matters into your own hands. Not that he ever satisfied you when you did sleep together.

You went through the drawers on the other side and stopped when you came across an envelope underneath Chris’s journal. You pulled it out of the drawer and noticed that your name was written on it in your mother’s neat handwriting. You turned it over and to your surprise, it wasn’t opened. You ripped it open and noticed a bunch of bills sitting inside it. It had to be hundreds of dollars. Hundreds of dollars that belonged to you. It was the money your parents had said they were going to send because they knew you had been struggling. It was your money and he took it, not even bothering to tell you that it had actually been sent. You had gotten into multiple arguments with your parents over it and now you felt bad for getting upset with them. It seemed like all of your problems always led back to Chris.

You pulled the cash out of the envelope and counted it, realizing that it had been much more than you had anticipated and you were grateful that it was all actually there. You set the cash on top of the drawer and turned the envelope back over only to see that it had been addressed to your old apartment meaning that Chris had been holding onto it for at least six months before the two of you had moved into your new place.

You put the cash back into the envelope and threw it into your purse before putting the journal back where it belonged and closing the drawer. When you went on your first date with Chris, you never thought he’d turn into such a dick. He had been sweet and caring and would have called out the man you just broke up with. He always hated guys like that so you weren’t sure what had happened that made him become one. Was it your fault? No, it couldn’t have been. What had you done except love him unconditionally?

It was late so you decided to head to bed, setting an alarm on the clock so you could get to the airport to catch a flight before Chris even woke up. He didn’t deserve a goodbye. You never wanted to see him again and if you had anything to do with it, you wouldn’t.

You threw on some pajamas and brushed your teeth, enjoying having the room to yourself since all Chris seemed to want to do was talk to you about shit that you could have not given less of a fuck about or made comments about what you were wearing or how you did your hair.

Since you had gotten to the room first, you decided that you were going to take the bed, the couch having done a number on your back having slept on it multiple nights in a row. It was just as soft at you thought it would be and you laid your head on the pillow feeling exhausted from the events that had taken place in only a matter of a few hours. You deserved a good night’s sleep after all the shit you had been through in the past twenty four hours.

Eddie entered the dressing room where Jeff, Gareth, and Doug were all sitting on the couch, the three of them still sweating from their performance and they each were nursing a beer. They all turned to Eddie whose cheeks were tinted a light red and a smile was playing on his pretty pink lips. He pressed himself against the door and stuck his hands into his pockets, staring at his band members as they all waited for him to speak, wanting to know if he got a number or not.

“Well?” Jeff asked since he knew the others wouldn’t. The four of them still weren’t used to female attention.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Eddie sighed pushing himself off of the door and heading over to the vanity to fix his hair.

“Damn,” Gareth replied.

“Sorry man,” Doug added.

“I was so close to flirting with her when her piece of shit boyfriend came out of his dressing room. I could see the way he was looking at me,” he moved his hair this way and that, trying to make it look like less of a mess but he was sure that he was making it worse. “He was clearly threatened. Even stuck his tongue down her throat to send me a message. He was looking at me the whole time.”

“What a freak,” Gareth commented.

“And get this,” Eddie stopped messing with his hair and turned around to face the boys, resting his hands on the vanity and leaning against it. “He’s the lead singing of Void.”

“They’re a shit show,” Jeff shook his head.

“I know. Their only good song is Hurt and I heard that they didn’t even write it.”

“Not surprising,” Doug rolled his eyes. “You didn’t hear this from me, but I heard that they weren’t even invited and that their manager had to beg to let them play.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie let out a laugh, leaning over as he did so, probably thinking that it was more funny than it probably was. “That’s fucking hilarious.”

“And probably true,” Jeff pointed out.

“So what are you going to do about the girl?” Gareth asked. Eddie didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know he was supposed to something. You were in a relationship and he definitely wasn’t going to get in the middle of it, especially not when Chris seemed to not be able to control his anger and could have easily knocked Eddie out with one punch.

“Nothing,” he shrugged. “She’s just a pretty girl, you know? There are plenty of those everywhere.” That was just what he was telling himself so he’d feel better. He felt bad for thinking it, but it pissed him off that guys like Chris got to have you while guys like Eddie had no one. Sure, being in the lead singer in a band helped him in the ladies department, but girls didn’t seem nearly as attracted to him as they were to guys who treated them like garbage. Was he not mean enough? Was that it? Did women just like assholes? Maybe he should have asked Chris since clearly there was something that he was missing.

“I know that’s right,” Doug went to high five him and Eddie ignored him, pushing off of the vanity. He began to pace, something he always did when he needed to think.

Now it all made sense. Of course they were only performing because their manager begged. No one in their right mind would have asked Void to perform and they certainly wouldn’t have done it willingly. It was putting bands like them on the same level as Corroded Coffin and Eddie didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all.

Bands like Void took away from other bands who actually enjoyed what they were doing, making it hard for anyone to be taken seriously. It was hurting the industry and it pissed Eddie off that they were getting praise when they were only in it for the fame when bands like Corroded Coffin were doing it because they loved making music. It was a form of therapy for them. And now there was a group of phonies who everyone was worshipping because they had one hit.

“Whatever,” Eddie shook his head. “We still have tomorrow to be even better so we should get some rest.”

“I thought we were going out.” They usually did after every show, drinking and flirting, some of them getting lucky and others not so much. Eddie loved getting drunk but couldn’t stand the feeling of being hungover, sometimes not even wanting to drink because of it. He always eventually gave in when Jeff would urge a shot into his hand. It always looked so inviting that he had to get a taste and before he knew it, he was many drinks deep, stumbling out of the building with his arm around a girl who he definitely thought was out of his league.

“I think Eddie is a little pouty that he didn’t get that girl’s number,” Gareth teased. Eddie didn’t like the way that Gareth was talking about you, like you were just a girl he struck out with. He definitely would have be in if you hadn’t been with Chris. But that wasn’t what bothered him. He hated that you were being spoken about as if you were an object. You weren’t. You were so much more than that. You were a person and he hated that he always had to remind the guys that they couldn’t just treat women however they wanted because they were famous. They deserved nothing but respect.

“Her name is y/n.” Maybe Eddie was a little upset because you were dating someone, but he’d get over it. He always did. You were just another girl and he could easily find another one who wasn’t attached to anyone. And that was what he planned to do. If he could ever stop thinking about your tiny skirt and your thick thighs that he desperately wanted to bury his head between.

“Okay, sorry, very pouty,” Gareth corrected, putting his hands up in defense. “C’mon dude, you can find someone to help you get over her. The Ruby Room is always crawling with babes.” Gareth was right about that. Eddie was always able to get lucky at The Ruby Room, girls crowding themselves around him like they thought he was somebody that they actually wanted to hang out with. He still wasn’t entirely used to the attention considering he never got any back home since everyone either thought he was a loser or a cult leader even though he was very much neither. Sometimes he couldn’t believe that women wanted him, like they were mistaking him for someone else, but when they would moan his name and his name only, he knew that there was no mistake.

Eddie headed over to the door, ready to head out. His mission now being to get as drunk as possible instead of heading to bed like he probably should have. He couldn’t go to bed sober, especially since you were on his mind. He didn’t like you, you were just someone he was trying to hook up with who happened to have a boyfriend. He wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t the type to be. He definitely wasn’t disgusted by thinking about what you were probably doing with Chris and how he wanted to be the reason for your pleasure.

“Well,” Eddie turned to his bandmates that were still sitting on the couch. They all stood up and followed Eddie out of the room. He was hoping that he’d see you but only found Void packing up their equipment with you nowhere to be found. He wanted to know where you had run off to.

“Don’t touch that,” Chris smacked Max’s hand that was reaching for Chris’s guitar. Chris had been in an even worse mood since you had broken up with him and now Max and Joey were paying for it. He couldn’t believe that you were leaving him. Him. He thought he had done so much for you over the years and this was how you repaid him? He had let you live with him when the lease on your apartment was up when he could have just let you live on the street. He let you tour with his band when he could have just left you at home. He even used your stupid song and you were just being ungrateful.

“What do you posers want,” Chris snapped as he turned to the foursome. If looks could kill, they all definitely would have been dead, especially Eddie. They were each hoping that the other had left already so they wouldn’t risk running into each other, but clearly that was just wishful thinking.

“Where’s y/n?” Eddie asked, wondering aloud. He didn’t know why he cared, but he was hoping that you were okay. He had hoped that you had dumped Chris’s sorry ass just like you had said you would.

“Kicked her to the curb,” Chris shrugged as if he was unbothered by your breakup. He turned his back to put his guitar into the case then turned back to Eddie once he was done. “You’re more than welcome to have her, Munson,” he let out a chuckle. “I should warn you, though, she doesn’t really put out.” Eddie took a deep breath, trying very hard not to take the bait. He wasn’t the fighting type, but goddamn was it tempting to punch that fucker square in the face.

“If I remember correctly, she told me that she was going to break up with you.” Just from looking at Chris, Eddie could tell that he was lying through his teeth. Especially since his band members didn’t seem to want to back him up. They just packed up their equipment, seeming unbothered by Chris’s behavior which caused Eddie to believe that he did things like this often.

“Oh, did she? Since you guys are so close, right? Well, you were wrong. I dumped her and now she’s at the hotel probably crying her eyes out.”

“I actually bet she’s at The Ruby Room right now getting cozy with someone that’s definitely not you. I bet he’ll take her to the bathroom and make her feel much more pleasure than you ever could.” Eddie was now inches away from him, trying to hold back a laugh at how red his face was. Eddie actually wasn’t sure what you were doing, but he hoped that whatever you were up to was going to piss Chris off.

“You don’t even know what the fuck you’re talking about, Munson,” Chris poked Eddie’s chest.

“I don’t?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. “Because from the way she was reacting with your tongue down her throat, she didn’t seem to like it or you for that matter.”

“We’re going through a rough patch.” Chad genuinely believed that. He figured that you were just on your period and needed time to cool off before you’d come running back to him like nothing happened. He didn’t know that you had every intention of catching the first flight out in the morning.

“Right,” Eddie nodded. “So rough that she even admitted that your band fucking sucks. And that you’re an asshole. Cleary you don’t know her as well as you thought you did.” Chris was like a bomb that was seconds from going off. Anger was bubbling inside of him and his eyes were filled with rage.

“Alright, I’m tired of your shit, Edward.” Chris poked his chest again. Eddie wasn’t going to give in as tempting as it was. All Chris was looking for was a fight and Eddie had no intention of giving him what he wanted.

“Am I upsetting you, Douglas?” Eddie put on a fake pout and he could have sworn that he could see smoke coming out of Chris’s ears. He didn’t think he would actually hit him like he seemed to want to. He was a pussy after all.

“You should be so happy that I haven’t kicked your ass.”

“Like you could,” Eddie let out a laugh. Sure, Chris was ripped and could definitely win the fight, but he was all bark and no bite. There was no actual heat to his threats. Without another word, Chris punched Eddie square in the nose causing the singer to stumble backwards. He clutched his nose and just as soon as he was able to stand up straight, Chris went in for another punch, this time his hitting Eddie’s left eye. He stepped back again while the members of Void were quick to run off with their belongings, disappearing around the corner as quickly as possible. Jeff, Gareth, and Doug were quick to rush to Eddie’s aid, all wincing at the way his face looked once he finally pulled his hand away.

The foursome headed back to the dressing room, Gareth holding onto Eddie, making sure that he was okay as they walked. He thought it was his duty, them being best friends and all. He’d been there for Eddie’s good, bad, and ugly. He had seen how everyone in Hawkins had treated him and despite how much he stood up for the boy, nobody would relent. He was just a kid who played a role-play game with his friends and everyone thought that made him evil.

Gareth helped Eddie sit down in the chair in front of the vanity and handed him some tissues and a couple Advil along with a water bottle. If a few little comments set Chad off, Eddie wondered just how you were treated when he was actually upset. He hoped that Chris hadn’t laid a finger on you unless it was lovingly. But he was pretty sure that the guy didn’t have a single loving bone in his body.

Eddie turned to the mirror and stuck a tissue in each of his nostrils, trying to get a good look at his face. There wasn’t any real damage but the blood. For a couple of punches, Chris really got him good. He could feel the pain coursing through his nose all the way to his head. He didn’t look too bad but knew it would be worse in the morning. Maybe he could garner some sympathy with a sob story to ensure that he’d be able to take someone home.

Eddie took the Advil and threw back some water to wash it all down, feeling like his head was pounding. As he cleaned himself up, the band gathered up all of their belongings and headed to their car to take them back to their hotel so they could freshen up before their night out. Eddie didn’t care if he had the worst headache known to man, he was going to get some. He didn’t even care with who, he just felt like he needed something good after the shit he had been through.

The car pulled up to the building and Eddie practically jumped out, as soon as it stopped moving. He made a beeline for the elevator while the rest leisurely followed him, Gareth carrying his guitar since that hadn’t really been a worry of Eddie’s. All he was concerned about was getting out of the stupid leather and jumping in the shower to wash off the shitty day.

The elevator opened and the four of them stepped inside, Eddie tapping his foot against the floor. He didn’t know why he was so anxious, but his heart was racing and he couldn’t seem to stay still. He was just very suddenly aware of how his clothes were sticking to his sweaty skin and how dirty his hair felt. The doors opened on their floor and he practically ran down the hall, pulling his room key out of his pocket as he did so. He opened the door and slammed it behind him, so grateful that him and the other members of the band all got their own rooms. He could pace around with his guitar, humming the lyrics to a song he was writing at three am if he damn well pleased. He no longer needed to take showers just to have his much needed alone time after being overstimulated the whole day.

Eddie stripped himself of his clothes and left them in a small pile in the floor by his bed. His whole room had been a mess and he figured he should have cleaned it if he was going to bring a girl back there, but that would be after his shower. He entered the bathroom and turned the shower on, humming along to the stupid song that Void had performed before they left the stage. He hated their guts, but goddamn was it catchy. He’d give them that. He couldn’t help but think about how different it sounded to the rest of their songs. The other ones were so shallow and misogynistic and Hurt was so beautifully written that he thought it couldn’t have possibly been written by them, not even Chris. Especially not Chris.

Once the water was hot enough, Eddie jumped into the shower, taking his time to wash every inch of his body. It was something that he usually did pretty quickly just to get it over with because of how much he hated to look at it. He hated that he wasn’t as ripped as the other guys around town and the fact women either laughed at him or were scared of him definitely didn’t help. If he was being honest, it wasn’t until he lost his virginity that he actually felt a sliver of confidence. He had no fucking clue what he was doing, but the fact someone actually gave him the time of day and wanted to see him naked made him feel significantly better about himself.

Now he was the lead singer of one of the biggest metal bands in the industry and both men and women actually seemed to like him. He didn’t care if it was genuine or just because he was famous. He’d take any affection he could get no matter the intention. Whether they were into his personality or his body, it didn’t matter to him, as long as it was consensual and they were comfortable was all he cared about. He couldn’t believe how many men in the industry took advantage of people and got away with it because they were famous. It disgusted him and he wondered how many people would still like them if they knew the kind of men they really are when they thought no one was looking.

He finished with his shower and wiped down the mirror to get another glimpse at his face. His nose was now a little swollen but there wasn’t any actual damage from what he could see. And the skin around his eye was just a little red. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad he had initially thought it would. Maybe it would just swell then go back down by the time he needed to perform the next day.

Once he decided he had enough of looking at his refection he headed back into his room and rifled through his messy suitcase for something to wear to the club. Everything he pulled out looked like shit. He usually didn’t put much thought into what he wore, but for whatever reason, he wanted to look nice. He wanted to look good. For whatever reason, he was hoping to run into you, even though he figured you wouldn’t be there. He was hoping that you were at LAX waiting for your flight home. He had hoped that you were okay despite the obvious pain that you were experiencing.

He settled on a black button up shirt and a pair of jeans with his boots that he definitely needed to replace. He only buttoned a few of the bottom buttons, leaving a lot of his chest on display. He then tucked it into his jeans, hearing a knock on his door. He headed over and opened the door for who he assumed was Jeff then headed to his shoes that he had left by the bed before sitting on it to put them on. Jeff stepped into the room, closing the door before stepping over to Eddie. He was dressed similarly the only difference was that his shirt was navy blue and he was wearing a wife beater under it and his jeans were a darker wash. Eddie always admired the way Jeff dressed and sometimes wished he had the confidence to pull off the things he wore when they were onstage.

“You clean up nice,” Jeff complimented. “I might even be into you.”

“Thanks, you too. Where are the others?” Eddie asked, putting on his socks then quickly throwing on his boots. He stood from the bed and headed for the door, making sure he had his key before the pair stepped into the hallway.

“Waiting on the elevator.” Eddie caught sight of his band mates who were whistling and catcalling him as he walked towards them. It was something they always did to mess with him while simultaneously trying to hype him up. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He had gone out more times than he could count so it was nothing new to him. Maybe it was because he didn’t actually want to go for once. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you no matter how he tried. You were taking up every inch of his brain and he hated it. He was trying to get laid and he couldn’t exactly do that when all he could think about was the outfit you had been wearing and how he wanted to be the one who got to see what was underneath.

As soon as the doors opened, Eddie stepped inside and threw on his sunglasses, knowing that the bright lights of the club would make his headache worse. He pressed himself against the wall, really wishing he had something to numb the pain. A joint or a line, whatever he could get his hands on. He knew they wouldn’t heal him, but they would at least give him the illusion that he was. He should have probably (definitely) gone to bed, but the night was young and so was he so he was going to have a great time and not think about you or how much he wanted to knock Chris’s light out. He couldn’t promise that he’d keep his hands to himself this time if he saw the bastard. He was going to punch the living daylights out of him, not only for what Chris had done to him, but also for you. Especially for you.

The Ruby Room, Los Angeles, 1990

Before Eddie knew it, the car that he wasn’t even aware that he had gotten into was pulling up to the all too familiar building with the words The Ruby Room across the front in bright red lights. Doug was pushing him out of the car and he took the hint, moving faster than he was willing to. He stepped out onto the street and headed towards the entrance, completely bypassing all of people in line waiting to get in. The man at the door pulled back the velvet rope and the members of Corroded Coffin walked through.

“Thanks Hank,” Eddie pat the man’s shoulder, showing him his signature megawatt smile.

“Anything for you guys,” Hank replied and Eddie followed his friends inside. He’d never get over how overstimulating everything was when he first entered the building. With all the bright lights and loud music, it was like his own personal hell, but he’d get over it once he had a few drinks. He made a beeline for the bar and ordered his usual while drumming his fingers on the wood while he waited. He scanned the room, looking for the girl he was going take home when he stopped. He felt like time had frozen when he caught sight of you sitting at a table by yourself sipping on a cocktail. He blinked a couple times, certain that his eyes were playing tricks on him, but once he rubbed them a little too aggressively and saw that you were still there, he was sure that you were very real. He turned back to the bar to see his drink was in front of him and grabbed it and was about to head your way, but he figured he’d leave you alone to give you space.

You hadn’t even planned to go out. You had every intention of going to bed, but you just couldn’t stand being there when Chris got back. You knew he would have intentionally been loud just to wake you up and yell at you for things that were his fault and he would definitely have something to say now that you had broken up with him. He was so angry with you and you didn’t want to hear it. There was nothing that he could say that would make you want to go back to him. You were done and ready to focus on yourself for once.

As much as you liked the idea of going home with someone, you couldn’t find it in yourself. Not because of Chris, but because you hadn’t had sex in six months and weren’t even sure if you knew how to do it anymore. You also weren’t even sure if you liked it. The only person you had slept with was Chris and you tried to get out of it any chance you could. You knew it wasn’t supposed to be that way. You had people talk about amazing it was but every time you did things with Chris, it was nothing but awkward and uncomfortable. He seemed to enjoy himself but didn’t even ask if you liked it. You knew that he wasn’t doing something right but blamed yourself because you knew that he couldn’t possible believe that he was the problem.

Eddie watched you for a few more seconds and was about to turn away when he saw a man approach you. He sat in the chair next to yours without an invitation and was getting a little too close to you for your liking. He was touching your hair and making odd comments which you figured he thought were compliments. He scooted his chair closer to yours and Eddie decided that he had enough. Before he could stop himself, he was making his way over to your table with more confidence than he ever had in his life. He weaved his way through all of the dancing bodies, trying not to spill his drink as he did so. He kept his eyes on you and didn’t miss the way yours lit up when you saw him. He didn’t know if it was because you knew you were going to be saved or if you were just happy to see him, but didn’t care which one it was.

“So sorry I’m late sweetheart,” he greeted as he got to your table. You turned to him and couldn’t stop staring. His hair was extra curly and you just wanted to run your fingers through to see if it was as soft as it looked. And his shirt perfectly showcased his chest and all of his tattoos that you wanted to trace with your fingers and maybe even your tongue.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man slurred before you could speak. He looked old enough to be your father and that made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. He couldn’t stand letting some creep hit on you when you were uncomfortable. He knew you could defend yourself, but he felt like he needed to step in to keep you safe.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you turned to the man, emphasizing the last word and Eddie couldn’t understand the feeling he got when he heard it. “And he’s going to kick your ass if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” You were speaking with so much confidence, as if you actually believed that Eddie actually could beat his ass when he definitely couldn’t.

“You?” The man laughed, standing from the chair and getting closer to Eddie, sizing him up. Eddie was sure that the guy could have flicked him and he’d fly across the room, so he wasn’t sure why you had said that he could beat his ass when there was absolutely no competition. He was going to get hit for the second time that night and he wasn’t sure he’d still have a nose after that. He moved his sunglasses up onto his head and prepared for the inevitable but it didn’t come. He opened his eyes and the man’s mouth was agape.

“Eddie Munson?” He asked in shock. “Shit, I’m sorry, man. I love your work.” Eddie let out a sigh of relief and the man put his hand out to shake.

“Oh, thanks. Nice to meet you,” Eddie smiled at him and took his hand, shaking it, swearing that he could hear a crack over the loud music at how hard the man was holding his hand. He finally let go, his face lighting up as he did so.

“The pleasure’s all mine. I saw you guys performing earlier and you were amazing.” Eddie realized early on in his career that Corroded Coffin’s main demographic was men that were old enough to be his father. Every one that he had met had been nothing but complimentary and seemed to be very dedicated. He was always so appreciative and couldn’t help but think about how they reminded him of Wayne. He really needed to give him a call.

“Wow, thanks man,” Eddie nodded. Had something actually gone right for him for once? He swore he was going to end up in the hospital and now this guy was telling him that he was a huge fan? Being famous was weird, Eddie knew that for sure. Maybe since now he knew the guy respected him, he could get him to leave you alone.

“Well, I won’t keep you. You guys have a great night and I’m so sorry, ma’am,” he nodded his head towards you then turned and disappeared into all of the dancing bodies on the dance floor. Eddie let out a sigh of relief as he sat in the chair beside you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. How good he looked in the harsh club lighting which you didn’t think was possible. You thought maybe it was the alcohol, but you looked down at your drink and realized that you had only had a few sips so you decided that he just looked like that. So pretty and nice. The second thing surprisingly not being common in men.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, turning to face him. He looked intimidating, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt a fly. He threw his glasses onto the table and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to process everything that just happened.

“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to.”

“I could have taken care of myself.” Eddie knew that but maybe he just wanted an excuse to talk to you. He didn’t know why he needed one since he could talk to you if he wanted to. You made him nervous and he wasn’t sure why. He thought he was finally getting good at talking to girls but here you were in your red dress looking as beautiful as ever in the bright lights.

“I know,” he said again with another nod. “But again, I wanted to.”

“Well, that’s sweet. It’s good you didn’t get your ass kicked. Crazy that he was a fan, huh? Guess you should consider yourself lucky.”

“Oh, I do.” He had to be to have a chance to see you again. “I couldn’t take another ass kicking.”

“Another one?” He turned his face to her and she caught sight of the redness around his eye. She took his face in her hands and turned it so she could see just how bad his injury was. “Eddie,” she gasped, pulling his face closer to hers so she could get a better look and he had tried his best to ignore the thudding of his heart against his chest. “Who did this to you?”

“Your boyfriend,” he grumbled, hating the way the words felt on his tongue. “Or I guess now he’s your ex boyfriend.”

“Chris did this to you? Eddie, I’m so sorry. He’s such a fucking ass.” You hated that he had taken a punch from your shitty ex and wondered what had happened. You decided you were going to ask later when everything wasn’t so fresh. You brought your thumb up to graze the redness around his eye and he winced. “I’m sorry,” You apologized, completely removing your hands from his face and Eddie was already missing your touch. You stood up from the table and held your hand out for him to take. He looked at it, dumbfounded, wondering why you were offering it to him and what you wanted him to do with it. You shook it and it finally registered that you wanted him to hold it.

He put his hand in yours and you pulled him up from the table, pulling him towards the dance floor. You weaved your way through the crowd and Eddie admired how quickly and seamlessly you seemed to move, like you knew exactly where to go. He had no idea where you were taking him, but he didn’t care. He was beginning to realize he’d follow you anywhere and that scared him. He had only just met you and now he was head over heels. He didn’t get attached to women, that was his thing. He didn’t think he was even capable of being interested in someone beyond sex but here he was, following you, knowing that no matter where you were taking him, he’d be okay just because you were there. Eddie caught sight of his band mates as he looked around the club and they all gave him a thumbs up when they realized that you were pulling him down a hallway, assuming that the two of you were going to get up to something filthy.

Once Eddie was out of his daze, he realized that you were pulling him into the women’s bathroom. You instructed him to stand at the sink and he listened, willing to do whatever you told him. He looked at his reflection and was about to reach up and touch his eye but you rested your hand on his shoulder and turned him around before he could. Before he could register what was going on, your hand was digging through your purse for something and Eddie just stood there and watched, admiring your beauty now that he had gotten a full view of your dress. Your dress that he wanted to slip his hands under and feel your soft skin under his.

“I swear I’m gonna kill Chris,” you muttered, pulling out what looked like a tube of lipstick but instead of red or pink that he was used to seeing, it was the color of your skin which he had never seen before.

“Can I help?” He didn’t want to help for the sake of helping, he wanted to beat the shit out of Chris for how terribly he had treated everyone in his path, especially you. He also wanted revenge for himself, to reverse the rolls and give him the shiner. He couldn’t let him get away with it now that he’d seen the real him.

“I’ll need someone to help me bury the body, won’t I?” You set your purse on the counter and took the cap off of the tube, twisting the bullet so you had access to more product. “I’m gonna fix your eye, okay?”

“You can do anything you want to me, sweetheart.” Eddie closed his eyes and leaned against the counter, putting his hands on top of it. You moved to his left side where his injury was and pressed yourself against the counter, gently taking his chin in your hand, lightly pressing the concealer stick to his skin, not missing his winces as you did so. It must have hurt much worse than it looked. You lightly blended the makeup with your fingers and Eddie didn’t care how much it hurt, he just liked that you were touching him, loving the way the pads of your fingers felt against his skin. Loving how close you were to him, and how amazing you smelled. He couldn’t tell whether it was your perfume or if you just smelled that good naturally, but goddamn was it addicting.

Eddie opened his eyes and couldn’t help but look into yours, captivated by the color and the cute concentrated look you had on your face. Your eyebrows were furrowed and your tongue was barely poking through your lips, your pretty red painted lips that he wanted to know the taste of but knew he wouldn’t. Not then. Not when you had just broken up with your boyfriend. The wounds were still open and he could see them even though you had bandaged them up. He may have only known you for a few hours at that point, but he could see right through you. He could see that you were hurting even though you pretended that you weren’t. You were trying to be tough and he hated that you felt like you had to hide your emotions. You didn’t. At least not with him. He wouldn’t have judged you if you had wanted to break something in anger or if you just wanted to cry. He would have let you, would have even held you while you did it.

You tapped on some setting powder with a makeup brush and finished up before stepping back to admire your work, nodding to yourself in approval. It wasn’t your best by any means, but you did what you could in a pinch. It wasn’t like it mattered that much in the ruby colored club lighting, but you just wanted to help Eddie out. At least, that was what you were telling yourself. It wasn’t because you were looking for an excuse to touch his pretty face, no. And it wasn’t because you wanted to be close to him either. You just saw someone in need and wanted to provide for them. That was it.

“Take a look,” you referred to the mirror. Eddie turned to it and leaned on the counter to get a better look. The redness was gone and he actually looked normal. He turned to look at you and you didn’t miss the small smile kicked up at the corner of his mouth.

“It looks great,” he complimented. “Truly. The greatest makeup job I’ve ever had.” Maybe he was exaggerating but he didn’t care. He had only had his makeup done a few times for certain performances and some music videos and every time he dreaded it, hating that people were that close to him, hating being touched like that. But with you, he didn’t mind, not one bit. In fact, he didn’t think that you were close enough, didn’t think that you had touched him for nearly as long as you should have.

“Really?” You looked him in the eyes and could see that he was being genuine. Everyone in your life had always made fun of you for interest in makeup and the fact that you had wanted to make a career out of it. They all told you that it wasn’t a “real job” and that you couldn’t possibly be successful doing people’s makeup for a living. That it was just a silly hobby and you shouldn’t spend so much time doing something that won’t make you any money.

“Definitely,” Eddie stepped closed to you, taking a chance. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed him by his hips, pulling him so he was flush to your body. His eyes widened at your sudden movement but he wasn’t going to deny your touch. His hands hesitantly moved to your shoulders and he looked at your face the entire time to gauge your reaction. He watched your pretty lips part and he stared at them, wondering if they were at soft as they looked, if they tasted as good as he was hoping they would. You ran your tongue along your bottom lip and that was it. He had to have you, but he wanted you make the first move.

You leaned closer to him, so close that he could feel your breath on his face. Your lips ghosted over his and he had to blink a few times to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming even though he could feel your hot touch despite his shirt being a barrier between your hand and his skin.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he said. He wanted you so badly but wanted to be considerate of you and your fragile state. He didn’t want you to move on too soon.

“But doesn’t that make it more fun,” your grip on his waist tightened and he’d have been lying if he said he didn’t like seeing that side of you. “Knowing that we shouldn’t but doing it anyway?”

“Fuck,” Eddie breathed and closed his eyes, waiting for your lips to meet his. Just as you caught his bottom lip between your two, there was a loud beeping sound coming from your purse. You ignored it and rested your hands against Eddie’s face, slowly moving them into his hair. He wrapped his arms around your waist as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip and he opened up, letting yours meet his. He pressed you against the counter and you untucked his shirt from his pants, moving your hands beneath it to run your fingers up his bare back.

The loud beeping sounded again and you reluctantly pulled away, Eddie chasing your lips as you did so. He got in one more kiss before you reached for your purse and pulled out your pager seeing that you had pages from both Max and Joey. All that was said was that Chris needed you and that you needed to come back to the hotel. You didn’t need to do anything. You threw the pager back in your bag before pressing your lips to Eddie’s again.

“Do you want to get a drink?” You asked, pulling away from him. He was caught off guard by your question and figured that whatever message you got on your beeper must have upset you.

“I’d love to get a drink,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the door but you pulled him back. Before he could ask what you were doing, you wiped away the lipstick that had transferred onto his skin and only laughed when it smudged across his cheek.

“You look like the Joker.” You continued to laugh and he couldn’t help but join in as you tried and failed to wipe the lipstick off his face.

“Me?” He laughed. “Look at you!” He moved out of the way so you could see yourself in the mirror and you leaned in close to get a better look. He was right. You did look much worse than he did. Your lipstick was all over the bottom half of your face to the point where you almost resembled a clown. You were quick to grab Eddie’s face, about to wipe the lipstick away before he stopped you.

“Wait,” he grabbed your hands, moving them away from his face.

“What?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing your eyebrows.

“Don’t wipe it away.”

“Why?”

“I like having your mark on me.” You blushed at his words then turned to the mirror to remove your lipstick to fix it up.

“What all do you have in there?” He asked as you rummaged in your purse for your lipstick.

“In my purse? Anything and everything I could possibly need.”

“Like what? Can I see?” You handed him your purse while you continued wiping his face. He pulled out everything one by one, mesmerized by how much you were able to carry in such a small bag. He didn’t miss the envelope filled with cash but didn’t want to mess with it. He came across what felt like a pencil and pulled out quickly realizing that it was eyeliner. He had seen other performers wear it but was always afraid he’d poke his eye out.

You finished taking off the lipstick then took your concealer and put it in on the spots of your foundation that had been removed then tapped on some powder over it to make sure it stayed in place. You then took a tube of lipstick and applied it to your lips, rubbing them together to make sure that it was evenly applied. Eddie watched you in awe, fascinated with the whole process, loving the precision of everything. He swore that he could watch you apply your makeup for hours and never get bored.

“Ready?” You asked, turning to him with a smile on your freshly glossed lips. He just smiled back in complete adoration.

“Ready,” he nodded and pulled your purse out of your reach when you went to grab it from him. “Now what kind of a gentleman would I be if I let you carry your purse?” He scoffed in feigned offense.

“You’re not a gentleman,” you replied, reaching for the purse again but he just held it further out of your reach.

“Ouch, doll,” he put his hand up to where his heart was and acted as if he was in pain. “You wound me. Let’s settle this now. You let me carry your purse and I’ll buy you a drink, alright?”

“Then what do I get in return?” You crossed your arms over your chest and put on a pout.

“You get to hangout with me.”

“Hmm,” you pondered. “I don’t think that’s a fair trade.”

“Damn, you’re just firing shots tonight, aren’t you, doll?” He gave you his megawatt smile then opened the door for you to exit the bathroom. You stepped into the hallway and grabbed his hand, leading him back out onto the dance floor.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” You led him over to the bar. He drummed his free hand on the bar while you waited for the busy bartender to get to you. You turned to look at him and gave him a small smile which he returned and you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. For someone who was so used to be being in the public eye, Eddie always seemed to forget that people could perceive him when he wasn’t onstage. He didn’t expect attention, especially not from women like you. You were so pretty and smart and now you were available. He could have asked you out if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t. Only because he wanted you to be comfortable. He was going to wait and see if you’d give him your number or at least tell him that you were interested. He didn’t think that making out with him in the Ruby Room bathroom counted as interested.

You ordered another cosmopolitan while Eddie ordered another beer, adding both drinks to his tab while handing over his credit card. While you waited, you wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. He leaned into you, turning his head towards yours. He looked at you in admiration and hated that he could see himself falling for you only having met you earlier that day.

He could see himself calling you while on tour and hearing about your day. He could see the two of you dancing around the kitchen in your pajamas while he hummed a song that he wrote for you. He could even see the two of you sitting on the front porch of the house you just bought while the dog you insisted on getting ran around the yard.

Eddie’s first thought would have been to run, to get away from you and the feelings that he was having, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. He wanted to stay put and see how everything would turn out. He was just so content being beside you. You didn’t even have to speak, just knowing that you were there was enough for him.

“Here you go,” you handed him his beer and for a second, he completely forgot where he was. For a moment, it was just the two of you in your own little world and now he was back in the real one where other people existed and he wished the two of you could go somewhere you could be alone. He wanted to get to know you without the outside world intervening. He didn’t want to be arrogant but he knew of his celebrity status and as much as he loved the people who loved him, he had to admit that he wasn’t always so happy to have them interrupt his night to talk to him.

“Thanks,” he smiled and took a sip, turning to scan the club. When he turned back to you, you were holding a shot out to him. “What’s this for?” He set his beer on the bar and took the shot from you, holding it between his fingers.

“To new beginnings,” you held your shot up motioning for him to cheers.

“Fuck yeah,” he nodded, completely understanding what you were implying. “To new beginnings.” You both downed the liquid and it burned going down but you liked the way it made you feel. It gave you more confidence. It let you turn your brain off even if it was only for a few hours.

“Do you wanna dance?” You asked, looking at the dance floor longingly. Eddie followed your gaze and couldn’t help but think about how much he hated dancing and being around that many people at once. He normally would have said no but how could he have after seeing that adorable pout on your face?

“Sure,” he nodded and you were quickly to pull him out there while he tried to make sure that you didn’t spill any of your drink. It was a very close call but he was successful as you got onto the dance floor. He watched you as you moved to the beat, insisting that he hold your drink while you did so. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you moved your hips to the terrible pop beat that was playing over the speakers. He set the drinks on the table where his friends had been sitting and you were quick to grab his hands and rest them on your waist. He tried to mimic the way you were moving but didn’t think his body could do the same.

You thought it was cute that he was trying to copy you and decided to help him in his struggle. You rested your hands on his waist, moving his hips this way and that and he couldn’t help but let out a giggle at how ridiculous he probably looked. Once you thought he got the hang of it, you turned your back to him and started grinding against his crotch. His eyes widened as he watched you, unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. He had seen people dance like that countless times but when it came time for his turn, his mind went completely blank. It didn’t help that you were making him hard and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

After what felt like far too long, you turned back around and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. His arms moved to your waist and he enveloped you into a hug, pulling you closer to him.

“Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. I know that you probably have better things to do but I really appreciate it.” Better things to do? Like what? Going to bed? Sleeping with a woman that wasn’t you? Yeah right. He wanted to be there for you. To be the shoulder you cried on.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” he rubbed your back sympathetically. You stayed like that for a while, the floor slowly emptying as the night turned to morning. You heard last call and decided to call it a night. Neither of you wanted it to end, but you thought it was for the best. You didn’t want to go back to Chris, but you didn’t think you had a choice. You certainly weren’t going to ask Eddie if you could stay with him. He had already done so much for you and you weren’t going to push it.

The two of you exited the club as it was shutting down, the remaining members of Corroded Coffin following your lead. The five of you stood on the sidewalk awkwardly as the boys waited for their ride. You saw the other boys eyeing Eddie as if they were all communicating with looks that you clearly didn’t understand.

“Well,” you spoke up. “I should probably get back.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, even though it was taking everything in him to not ask you to stay the night. Not even to sleep with you. He just wanted to make sure you were safe.

“Have a good night guys. I had a nice time.” Before he could register what you were doing, you had grabbed his hand, scribbling on it with your eyeliner pencil, that being the only writing utensil you had on hand. “This is my phone and pager numbers. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You threw the pencil back into your purse and pressed a kiss to Eddie’s lips before making your way down the street.

That wasn’t it. It couldn’t be. He wasn’t really going to let you walk down the streets of LA at night alone would he? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you leave without one last kiss to hold him over until he saw you again. He ran after you as fast as he could and you turned around in confusion as he stood in front of you. He grabbed you by your face and pressed his lips roughly to yours, taking no time to swipe his tongue along your bottom one. You let him in, grabbing hold of his shirt. His hands quickly moved to your hair, his fingertips pressing into your scalp.

“I just needed one more taste,” he mumbled against your lips. You only pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I told you not to be a stranger, Munson.” You only pulled him closer, pecking his lips.

“I-“ he cut himself off before speaking again. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, baby. You could ask me up to your room right now and I’d say yes.” You really hadn’t been expecting to go back to where he was staying, but you couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t want to go back to your room and who would pass up the chance to fuck a rockstar?

“D-do you want to go to my room?” He was surprised he could get the words out considering how fuzzy his brain felt at the thought of you wanting to fuck him.

“I’d be honored.” You took his hand in yours and he pulled you back over to the boys as soon as the car pulled up. The five of you all piled into it, you and Eddie ending up alone in the very back seat. Your hand was still holding his and you pulled them to rest on your lap, your free hand fiddling with his rings that adorned his fingers. His fingers that you so desperately wanted to touch you in every place imaginable.

You whispered to each other the whole way, giggling as you did so, definitely annoying Eddie’s friends who were sitting in front of you. They were all getting sick of your flirty conversation and couldn’t wait for the car to pull up to the hotel so they could get away.

The car finally go to the hotel and your jaw dropped at the sight in front of you. You weren’t surprised that Corroded Coffin had the cash to stay there considering how popular they had become over the years.

Eddie took you by the hand and led you inside the building and you were completely mesmerized by how nice it was. It made where you were staying look like a dump. It was so nice that you felt out of place like you usually did when you went to places like that. You didn’t grow up with much money and didn’t really know anyone who did so you definitely didn’t think you’d ever step foot in the Beverly Hills hotel. Especially not with the lead singer of Corroded Coffin.

The others took the elevator that came down while you and Eddie stayed back to take your own. Your flirting continued as you stood in the empty lobby, the only people there being the two of you. You looked up at him and realized that you didn’t actually have anything to worry about like you usually did when it was that time of night. You’d lay your head on your pillow and everything you were worried about that quieted itself during the day became very loud in your head. It was to the point where you could barely sleep most nights because whatever Chris had been worried about would be passed off to you because for whatever reason, he wanted to make everything a concern to you even when it didn’t actually involve you.

It was as if all of the chaos had left had your head as soon as you and Chris were broken up. All of the problems that you previously had just weren’t there. You didn’t have to take care of his laundry or pack up his suitcase to make everything fit. You didn’t have to restring his fucking guitar or make him his special tea that supposedly helped his voice sound better but you were sure it was a scam. You didn’t have to do anything for that man anymore and you felt good. You were finally free from his shackles.

One of the elevators opened and you grabbed Eddie by the shirt, pulling him inside. He pressed the button for his floor before his hands found your waist again and moved farther down as your lips attached to his. You went to unbutton his shirt, the fact that you were in an elevator was the least of your worries. You needed him and you needed him now. It didn’t matter that you had issues with being intimate with someone. You were confident that Eddie would satisfy your needs and be nothing but a gentleman while he did it.

Eddie’s hands slipped under your dress as you undid the last button, his entire chest in display for your viewing pleasure. You pulled back to look at him, wondering how you got so lucky. How you got Eddie Munson to actually agree to sleep with you. And it took absolutely no convincing. He was on board for whatever you liked to do. You barely even knew him and he was already wrapped around your finger.

Before his hands could get any farther, the elevator dinged signaling that it was on the correct floor and Eddie reluctantly removed himself from you, stealing one more kiss before leading you to his room.

“It’s kind of messy,” he said sheepishly as he unlocked the door. You didn’t think that mattered considering what you were about to get up to. The cleanliness of his room was the least of your worries. He opened the door and you were surprised at how surprisingly clean it was. It wasn’t immaculate by any means but it was definitely better than the rooms of other men that you had seen. There were small piles of clothes and an open cluttered suitcase, but that was it as far as the mess went. It was very clean compared to the roommate you had shared a living space with over the past few years.

“So this is how the other half lives,” you sighed, collapsing onto his bed. It was much softer than the one where you were staying.

“It could be your life too,” he replied, lying down next to you. He didn’t know why he said that, but it was too late to take it back. You turned to look at him but he just kept staring at the ceiling, afraid to look you in the eye.

“I guess you’re right. I think I was put on this earth to be a rockstar’s girlfriend.” His cheeks heated up at that. He would have asked you out if he knew for sure that you were talking about him, but you weren’t. You definitely weren’t. Eddie was the kind of guy you snuck into your window because your parents didn’t approve, not the kind of guy you’d bring home. And definitely not the kind of guy who wanted to be a boyfriend. People slept with him and that was it. And that was how he liked it. It was everything he liked without all the “feelings” bullshit.

The two of you fell silent and you rolled on top of him, straddling his hips and pressed your lips to his once again and he was quick to put his hands under your dress. You removed it, letting it fall to the floor. His hands landed on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he licked into your mouth. He liked how soft they were under his rough hands.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “So this is what I’ve been missing. God, angel, you’re perfect.”

“Perfect?” You loved that word and how easily he was able to say it in regard to you. Like it was something that he said all the time.

“Perfect,” he pressed his lips to yours once more. “And don’t you forget it.”

You pulled his open shirt from his shoulders and threw it to the side. Eddie was quick to flip you over so now he was straddling you. He captured your top lip between his two in a brief kiss before moving down to your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses to the skin. He went down to your chest ,sucking on your breast, his tongue running over your nipple.

You let out a soft moan and he chuckled to himself, loving the way it sounded coming from your pretty lips. He continued sucking on your breast, hearing more moans come from you. He took your nipple in between his teeth and pulling to get just the right sound he wanted from you.

“Oh,” you let out another moan. He repeated the same action before giving it a little suck. “Oh, Eddie.”

“That’s right, princess,” he said before pulling away from your chest. “Say my name.” He moved to your other breast and did the exact same thing, getting more moans from you. He was loving seeing you like this and knowing that it was all for him was driving him wild. He kissed all the way down your stomach and made his way to your waist.

“Can I remove these,” he asked, referring to your underwear. He was being so nice and respectful and you weren’t used to that. You were used to rough and mean.

“Um,” you hesitated. You wanted him to, you really did, but you were still fragile. You weren’t ready but were too afraid to admit that to him. You felt bad considering how eager he was, but you just couldn’t go through with it.

“I don’t have to," he sat up, completely moving his hands away from you, leaning up as he did so.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. Eddie didn’t know why you were telling him that. He was willing to do whatever you wanted. He hoped that you knew that.

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I do…I just-I don’t know. I’m nervous. I-I’ve only ever felt this way a few times but it’s been a long time and I don’t even know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” he pushed some of your hair out of your face.

“I mean, I don’t even know what it looks like down there anymore.”

“I’m sure it’s fine,” his hands rested on your face. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I want you to feel comfortable, okay? Tonight is all about you.” All about you? You couldn’t remember the last time you had been the focus of anything. For the longest time, it was all about Chris and what he wanted. For once, you were going to be the center of attention and you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

“Me? What about you, Eddie?” You wanted to know what he was going to get out of the arrangement. Certainly not much.

“Darling, believe me, I’d get plenty of pleasure from hearing your pretty sounds.” Your eyes widened at that. You were still in shock that he always somehow knew exactly what to say.

“Remove them,” you commanded.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” He knew exactly to what you were referring, but he wanted to hear you say it again.

“Remove them,” you repeated. “Please,” you begged and he was quick to remove the fabric and toss it aside. He spread your legs and a devilish grin made its way upon his face.

“Well look at you,” he looked down at your pussy that was much more damp than you were used to. “Is this all for me, princess?”

“Well, it’s certainly not for me.” You couldn’t remember the last time you got wet like this. If you ever had. Any time Chris had tried to fuck you, you were as dry as the desert. You hadn’t even done anything and Eddie was already making you feel much more pleasure than both Chris and your vibrator combined.

“Well, I’m honored.” He took both of your legs and draped them over his shoulders. “Gonna make you feel so good, angel.”

“Yes, god, please.” Eddie lowered his head, pressing a kiss to each of your thighs before burying his face between them. His tongue was quick to lick from your slit to your clit and you slipped your fingers into his hair, giving it a yank. He took that as an invitation to continue and moved his tongue back and forth before adding his fingers into the mix. He pumped them in and out and your legs tightened against his head.

“God, fuck Eddie,” you breathed. “That feels so good, baby.” Eddie continued working his magic with his mouth, removing his fingers, his hands, grabbing onto your hips, digging his fingers into your skin. Your hands buried themselves into his hair, the tips of them pressing into his scalp. “Eddie,” you moaned. “Need more of you.” Eddie pulled away looked up at you and you swore that you were going to remember that look for forever. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. Like he was in love with you and from the way you were making him feel, he was convinced that he was.

He kissed back up to your lips and licked into your mouth, his hands grabbing onto yours, intertwining your fingers. His legs straddled your waist and you could barely even tell that he had put his full weight on you. You were so focused on him and his talented tongue.

“See how good you taste, angel?” He asked, squeezing your hands.

“No,” you shook your head. “Only know how good you taste,” you responded.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me,” he pressed his lips to yours again. “Don’t you?”

“I don’t know anything, Eddie,” you bat your eyelashes. “Except the fact that you’re fucking hot.” Eddie captured your lips in another kiss before moving down to your neck, sucking on the base of the side on your throat. His teeth grazed the skin gently and he was quick to diffuse the pain with his tongue.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” He pressed a few open mouthed kisses to your neck before sucking again.

“Then I guess I should tell you how good you are at this.” Eddie lowered himself on top of you, slotting his legs between yours, his fingers still interlaced with yours.

“Then I should tell you how good you are at taking it. You’re doing so well, princess.” You wrapped your arms around his waist and his hands went to your thighs. “You’re so pretty,” he said, pressing more open mouthed kisses to your neck. “Not even just your face, your body.”

“You’re sweet.”

“I’m also right,” he replied. “Don’t you think you’re pretty?” You did think you were pretty. Despite all of the things Chris had said to you over the years, you still thought you were hot shit.

“Absolutely,” you nodded and he grinned.

“Good,” he pressed another kiss to your neck, letting his lips linger there before pulling away. “You should be. You’re so fucking hot.”

“You think so?”

“I know so, princess. Could do this all day every day and never get bored. I think you’re the perfect partner.”

“Out of all the others?” Eddie laughed at that. He didn’t like that you were comparing yourself to the other women he slept with, but he couldn’t understand why you were. To him, he could get rid of every other one and be content to have just you every night. He could see himself falling asleep with you in his arms, his head resting on top of yours. He could see himself performing and looking to you who was standing side stage with the biggest smile on your face, cheering him on. He was falling and fast and for once, he wasn’t going to kick you out. The door was wide open and he was letting you in without question.

“There’s no competition. And this isn’t a line. I genuinely mean it.” he went back to work on your neck, sucking on the spot once more. Your breath hitched and you weren’t sure how he was able to take your breath away. His teeth grazed the skin again, harder this time and you let out a gasp.

“God, Eddie,” you moaned. “Is this always what it’s supposed to feel like?” He chuckled and feeling his breath on your neck made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“As long as it’s with me, yeah,” he responded before diving back in. You liked how he knew when it was starting to hurt and he would quickly swipe his tongue across the spot. He knew exactly what he was doing and you were eating up every second of it.

“Well, maybe next time you can give me the full experience.”

“Already thinking about next time, huh?” He pulled back to wink at you.

“Maybe,” you let out a giggle, starting to feel your eyes get heavy, feeling the after effects of all of the pleasure you had just experienced.

“Right, maybe,” he replied, letting go of your hands and moving your hair away from your face. “You’re starting to slur, angel. Maybe it’s time for bed.”

“No,” you whined. “I didn’t get to please you.”

“Next time, sweetheart, next time,” he pat your cheek. “You can do whatever you want to me when you’re not about to fall asleep on me.” He got off of you and went to his suitcase, pulling out a t-shirt. He handed it to you and you changed into it. It was a little tight, but it was still pretty comfortable. You stood up from the bed, feeling sleepiness take over you as you pulled on your underwear. You almost fell to the floor but Eddie caught up before you could.

“Alright, come one. We gotta remove your makeup, sweet girl.” He scooped you up, holding you by the waist with one arm and putting the other under your legs. He carried you to the bathroom effortlessly and set you on the counter. He then grabbed your makeup remover from your purse and put some on a hand towel before wiping your face with it.

“Eddie, you don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he nodded. “But I want to. Can’t let you sleep in that all night. It’s not gonna be comfortable.”

“I can do it.”

“Can you just let me take care of you, please?”

“You were taking care of me just fine earlier.”

“Not that kind of care, angel,” he wiped your face again, his other hand holding onto your chin.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” you pulled away from his grasp.

“Well, I was, but you were getting tired and I’m not really into fucking women who are unconscious.”

“I guess I can’t fault you for being a gentleman,” you sighed.

“Gentleman? That’s the bare minimum. How come here.” You leaned forward, leaning into his touch. You opened your legs and he was quick to slot between them, trying to get closer to you. He continued to remove your makeup, trying to be gentle as he did it. You could get used to it. The two of you having a night out, him holding your hair when you drank too much and him taking you home and removing your makeup when you were too drunk. God, you were really was falling for you. You were fucked.

“All done,” he threw the towel to the side and grabbed onto your waist to help you from the counter. He took you by the hand and led you back to his bed. He helped you under the covers and made sure that you were comfortable before removing his pants and throwing on some sweatpants. He then turned off the lamp beside him and got under the covers and was quick to move over to you, taking you in his arms. He rested his chin on top of your head and you buried your face into his chest. He tangled his legs with yours and pulled you even closer, brushing his lips against your forehead before pressing a kiss to it.

You were so comfortable that you were quickly slipping into sleep. Your face was against Eddie’s warm chest with his arms wrapped around your waist and you were very content being there, knowing that he would protect you if anything happened.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing

“Goodnight, Eds,” you sighed dreamily and Eddie loved hearing that sound, feeling at ease that you were content. Before you could fully let sleep consume you, you pulled back to look at him one last time.

“Can I get one last kiss? I really think that would help me sleep.” What was he going to do? Say no? With you looking at him with that adorable sleepy smile? “Please?”

“Well, since you said, please.” He tilted your chin up and pressed a featherlight kiss to your lips. He pulled away only to find you glaring at him and he just let out a laugh. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that not good enough for you?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Ouch, doll,” he put his hand up to his chest. “You hurt me again.” You removed his hand and pressed a kiss to the spot he had been covering.

“Better?”

“Much, thank you. Alright, I’ll give you one more kiss and then we have to go to sleep.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” Tilted your head back again and captured your lips between his, this kiss slow and sweet just like all of his others. For being such an intimidating looking guy, he was very good at being a sweetheart. Looks really could be deceiving.

“Alright,” he sighed, pulling away from you. “Bedtime, angel,” he wrapped his arms around your waist again and pulled you to his chest. His chin once again rested on top of your head and he closed his eyes, for once feeling comfortable. All of his nightmares seemed to vanish, the only thing taking over his brain being you and your beautiful face.

Eddie woke up to the sound of a high pitched ringing. He looked to his left and found you on the other side of the bed, looking like an angel, still deep in sleep. So he wasn’t dreaming. All of that stuff that he had done to you had very much happened. It wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He watched you for a second, noticing the very obvious hickey on your neck. He loved watching you come undone at his simple touches. He loved hearing those sounds come from your pretty lips. God, your lips. He could have kissed them all night long and never gotten bored. They were so soft and sweet just like you. You were so nice and caring and he wondered how Chris could treat you like shit, especially with all of the things you had done for him. If Eddie had been in his place, he would have put a ring on it a long time ago.

The ringing was still going and Eddie turned over, reaching for the phone that was by the clock. He put the phone to his ear, expecting to be met by yelling from his manager, Rick.

“Hello,” he answered, his voice still filled with sleep.

“I swear to god if you’re not here in the next five minutes, I’m going to rip the strings off your guitar one fucking string at a time so that you’ll be on stage looking like a goddamn idiot,” Rick warned through grit teeth.

“God, Richard, you’re so dramatic.”

“I swear, if you were up late with one of those groupies-“

“She’s not a groupie,” he corrected.

“Oh, sorry,” Rick apologized, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or should I say whore.”

“She’s not a whore either,” he looked over at you, still sleeping peacefully. “Look, I’ll be there, damn,” he pulled the phone away from his ear then immediately put it back. “And send a car for (y/n), will you?” He slammed the phone down on the receiver then looked at the clock and swore to himself, practically flinging himself off the bed. He was going to be late for rehearsal. He rushed to put on some jeans he had left in the floor and a t shirt that was hanging on the knob of the bathroom door.

All of the commotion stirred you from your sleep. You watched Eddie throw on his shirt and you wondered where he was going to early. You glanced at the clock and realized that it was noon. Your flight was at four and you were going to have to run like hell if you wanted to change it.

Eddie rushed into the bathroom and quickly brushed his teeth before heading back into bedroom.

“Where are you going?” You asked him, trying to be flirtatious, but he only looked at you with a stressed expression.

“Got rehearsal, doll,” he sighed, grabbing one of his shoes and throwing it on, not even bothering to tie it then grabbed another shoe and put it on.

“Those don’t match,” you let out a laugh and he looked down, noticing that he was wearing a sneaker and a boot. He took off the sneaker and threw on the other boot before rushing over to give you a kiss.

“When’s your flight?” He asked and you almost didn’t want to answer him. If you did, then the whole thing would be ruined. You just couldn’t say goodbye.

“Four,” you grumbled.

“I’ll still be at the festival then, so we can say goodbye at the car.” You wanted to go with him, but you didn’t feel like you had right to. Hookups didn’t stand side stage.

“You’ll still call me?” You were really hoping that he was going to call you.

“I’d be an idiot not to.” You gave him another kiss before changing back into your dress, handing the shirt back to him.

“No, keep it,” he pushed it back to your chest.

“I can’t take your shirt, Ed.” Even though you knew he had plenty to spare, you felt bad taking it, even though you really wanted to.

“Sure you can. And you look way better in it than I do.”

“Oh, shut up.” You put your shoes back on and made sure you have everything that was in your purse before heading to the door. Eddie opened it for you and the two of you headed down the hallway, Eddie making sure to grab hold of your hand as you did so. You were really hoping that he wasn’t going to be a stranger. You couldn’t stand not seeing him again especially after how close the two of you had gotten in just one night.

Eddie pressed the down button for the elevator then pulled you into his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. The elevator doors quickly opened, and Eddie urged you inside, the two of you still attached. He pressed you against the wall, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, giving them yet another squeeze. He licked into your mouth and you opened up, letting it find yours. His hands found your ass and he gave it a little pinch, causing up to let out a little squeal.

“Jump,” he commanded and you did as you were told, totally confident that he was going to catch you and he did. Your legs wrapped and his waist and he was quick to pin you to the wall again. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Should’ve done this last night. You look so pretty with your legs wrapped around me, sweetheart.” That only made you tighten your legs around his waist. He pressed his lips to your neck gently and let out a whistle at the mark he had made the night before.

“Oh, how scandalous,” he chuckled. “This is a gnarly hickey. Who did this to you?”

“You did,” you smiled and a full blown grin made its way upon his face.

“That’s right, princess,” he ran his nose along your jaw. “Guess that means you belong to me now.”

“Guess it does,” you responded nonchalantly. You knew Eddie was joking but you definitely wouldn’t have minded being his. The elevator doors opened and Eddie was quick to drop you gently to your feet, grabbing hold of your hand and pulling you out. You tried not to laugh at the older couple giving the two of you disgusted looks as you headed for the entrance.

You got outside where there was a car that Eddie assumed Rick had called for him and he pulled your body to his, pressing yet another kiss to your lips, this one lingering longer than the others.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get back from the festival, alright?” He kissed you again.

“Okay,” you nodded with a sigh. Eddie opened the car door for you.

“Your carriage awaits, m’lady,” he gestured to the backseat and you hesitantly got in before he closed the door behind you. You waved at him from the window and he waved back before heading over to the car that was waiting for him.

You had to remind yourself that this wasn’t the end. He was going to call you and you’d meet again. He’d fly to you if he had to. And he would, no questions asked. He had all of this money and he’d gladly spend every cent just to see you one more time.

You told the driver where you were staying and the car took you there. Now that you were away from Eddie, you were forced to think about the near future. You were about to go back to what was left of the life you shared with Chris and you didn’t know what you were going to do. All you did know was that you had every intention of changing your flight to an earlier one. There was no fucking way that you were going to sit next to that dickhead for five hours with nowhere else to go.

You entered the motel, definitely looking a little worse for wear. You hated that you had to leave Eddie and that you actually had to go back home. You hated having to finish packing your suitcase. You hated everything. But all you could think about was Eddie and the way he had made you feel the night before. You couldn’t help but have wanted him to be there to help you out. And he would have in a heartbeat. He would have made you stand behind him while he called Chris out on his bullshit. But he wasn’t. He had to go to rehearsal for the next day of Rhythm Riot so you’d have to face Chris alone.

You reluctantly unlocked the door and stepped inside, caught off guard by the absolute wreck it was. It was as if a tornado ripped through it considering the state it was in. Chris’s back was to you and he whipped around to look at you. His face was beet red and his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. His fists were clenched so tight that you were convinced that one of his veins was going to explode.

“Where the fuck were you?” He asked through grit teeth.

“Out,” you responded nonchalantly as you closed the door behind you. You began to gather your stuff from the floor to put back inside your suitcase. You put the thing on the bed and started throwing your belongings into it, not even bothering to do it neatly. You didn’t have time for that.

“Out where?” He hated how nonchalant you were being. He assumed that he was still your boyfriend so he thought he deserved real answers, not your vague ones.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You raised an eyebrow, loving how angry you were making him.

“Yeah!” He yelled. “I would! I was up all night waiting for you!” You paused for a moment, looking him in the eye. “I needed you to pack my suitcase.”

“I’m not packing anything. We’re broken up, Chris, remember?” You put one of your t-shirts into the case then turned to face him. You then turned back and grabbed more of your clothes from the floor and piled it on top of the others. You moved your hair away from your neck, feeling it becoming sweaty because of how hot the room had become because Chris had the window open despite it being scorching hot outside considering that it was June in California.

“What the fuck is that?” He pointed to your neck. You knew exactly what he was referring to but wanted to play dumb. You just wanted to have some fun.

“What’s what?” You tilted your head to the side, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“That!” He pointed to your neck again.

“Chris, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He rushed over to you and grabbed your face roughly in his hands, turning your head to the side so he could get a better look at the purple mark on your neck.

“This,” he looked directly at the mark.

“Oh,” you let out a giggle. “That. Why don’t you ask Eddie?”

“Munson?” He let go of you completely and turned away, rubbing his hands along his face.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t recall.”

“Do not fuck with me, you bitch.” He pointed at you. “Did you…did you fuck him?”

“I did,” you confirmed with a nod. “And he gave me more pleasure than you ever could.” All Chris could do in response was let out a scream in frustration. You were quick to grab the rest of your things and zip it up before racing out of the room.

You got to the elevator and hurriedly pressed the button to go down to the lobby, hoping that Chris wasn’t following you. The door to the suite never opened so you let out a breath and got onto the elevator, letting it take you to the lobby. You went to the front desk and made sure to let the woman behind it know that Chris would be paying for the room you shared. You left after that, making your way to the airport.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

[janeyseymour]

hi i love ur writings so so much i’m so sorry this idea is rushed but i hope its enough

abbot family is trying to encourage melissa to “get back out there” and meet people after everything she’s been through. she brushes them off constantly until they stage an intervention during lunch and even barb is concerned for her work wife. melissa leaves this lunch with some big feelings because little does everyone know melissa has been seeing someone this whole time. comes home to reader smoking a joint while cooking in the kitchen and reader says something along the lines of “you look like you could use this more than me” and they make a plan together to introduce reader to everyone at a 4th of july bbq

you gonna get what you ask for 🤪 Not edited in the slightest. I got places to be and people to see

Intervention

WC: ~2.35k

It’s been a year and a half since Melissa Schemmenti publicly said no to a marriage proposal. A year and a half since the fiery redhead had gone out with anyone, and she really doesn’t have any plans to start dating again- at least that’s what the Abbott crew thinks.

The truth is, the second grade teacher has been seeing you since the night she went to the casino and bar to blow off some steam after reuniting with Gary to return his things and get her stuff back.

You were at one of the slot machines when the redhead passed by you, laughing.

“What’s so funny, Red?” you asked as you looked up at her.

“You ain’t gonna win no money that way,” the woman stopped in her tracks to tell you. “C’mon. Let me show you how it’s done.”

That night, you stuck by her side as you watched her win thousands of dollars at one table alone, clearing out quite a few men.

It’s late when she finally threw in the towel. She offered to walk you out to you car, and you took her hand in your own.

“So,” you exhaled a small cloud of smoke from the cigarette the two of you were sharing. “What are you gonna do with all that money you just won, pretty lady?”

“Take you out on a date,” Melissa had replied cooly. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven?”

Neither of you looked back.

That was a year and three months ago. While your side of the family knew of your relationship with the teacher (and they absolutely adore her), her crew doesn’t have a single clue of your existence or rather large presence in Melissa’s life- despite the fact that you were now living together and your lives were intertwined.

So whenever anyone at Abbott tells Melissa that they found someone they think she might fancy, she just brushes them off.

“Janine, no offense, but if you think someone is worth dating, I would find them to be-”

“Hey,” Gregory cuts her off.

Melissa just shrugs. “My case in point. Greg, you know I love you like the black son I never had, but you’re boring as hell.”

“Ava, I am not about to go clubbing with you to pick up a man fifteen years my junior,” the redhead rolls her eyes.

“C’mon,” the principal chuckles. “They fun! They’re like energizer bunnies.”

“I barely have the energy to stand and get the remote from the other side of the room,” Melissa retorts as she opens her bottle of iced tea.

“I think you would like him!” Jacob pleads. “He saw your picture and said you were fine.”

“I am fine,” Melissa states, gesturing to her figure. “And I’m just as fine without a partner.”

It’s gotten to the point that even Barbara is concerned about her friend’s adamant denial to get herself back out there. So, the day that Melissa has recess duty, she brings it up to her coworkers.

“Now listen, I am not usually one for meddling in someone else’s love life, but don’t you think it’s concerning that Melissa flat out refuses to even attempt to put herself back out there?” the kindergarten teacher asks to the faculty room.

“Weird as hell,” Ava waltzes in, but having heard the question decides to chime in. “But aye, good for Schemmenti, realizing she don’t need no man in life.”

“I just find it odd…” Barbara taps her chin. “Melissa, while one with a tough exterior, loves love. She’s always wanted someone to spend her time with.”

“Maybe we should stage an intervention,” Jacob suggests. “To really show her that she’s good and healed from the failed proposal and to get back out there.

Gregory looks mildly impressed with that suggestion. “That might work.”

They have no idea that the entire time she’s supposed to be out monitoring the children on the blacktop, she’s smiling down at her phone like an idiot talking to you.

And when she comes home that day, she fully goes through with the things you two had texted about earlier.

The Abbott crew plans an intervention for Melissa- a banner, letters, all of it. When she comes into the staff room, smiling down at a midday text you had sent her, the rest of her colleagues are standing by the couch, looking somber.

“Fuck. Who died?” Melissa’s smile drops immediately.

“No one died, Melissa,” Barbara states.

“But we think a part of you might have,” Janine says dramatically, somberly.

“What the hell are youse talkin’ about?” thee redhead rolls her eyes. 

“Melissa, dear,” Barbara says softly, calmly. She makes her way over to her friend and takes her by the hand to guide her towards the seat they had put in the middle of the room.

One by one, they read the letters that they had all written, expressing their concern for their favorite fiery Italian teacher.

“Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher finishes up. “We all love you dearly, and while we understand that it takes some time to get over the heartache that Gary caused, this is a bit extreme. We are worried.”

“An’ I appreciate the thought and care that you guys put into this,” Melissa tells them with a sigh. “But I promise youse: I’m fine. I don’t need to get back out there.” She almost adds on that it’s because she’s happily seeing someone, and has been since three months after her split from the guy that filled the vending machine.

“Just… know that we’re all here through all of your seasons,” Jacob tells her. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.”

“We do care about you,” Janine says softly, and she offers the redhead a hug. Melissa doesn’t necessarily want to embrace the shorter woman, but she goes into the arms of her colleague.

Gregory just gives her a nod that conveys his love for his coworker, to which she smirks and nods right back in his direction.

“Now, can we eat lunch?” the redhead chuckles.

As the day passes on, Melissa comes to realize just how much her coworkers care for her- their gesture, albeit absolutely ridiculous and dramatic, was heartfelt and full of love. Maybe she should just come clean about the relationship she’s in. Or she could just buy them all some Philly soft pretzels and soda instead to thank them. Yeah… that’s what she’ll do for now before she can talk to you about how the two of you want to go public about your being together.

She orders the pretzels to be delivered to the school before the day is done, and when everyone is reconvening back in the faculty room to grab their lunch bags before heading home, Melissa makes sure she’s the first one down there. She has the box on one of the tables, along with a some cans of soda. Whatever they don’t take, the redhead knows will be eaten and drank at home.

“Oi,” she calls to her friends. “Come get a pretzel and a soda as my thanks for carin’ about me so much.”

They all light up at the sight of the gesture, aside from Gregory.

“I do not like pretzels, or soda, and for that reason I will not take one,” the man says as his friends dive in. “But thank you.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “I figured you would say that. Which is why I got you a bag of peanuts and a water.”

He looks mildly impressed and takes the offered items gratefully.

Once again, they all voice their love and care for the woman that gave them a salty treat before heading out for the night. Everyone except for Barbara. She waits for Melissa to clean up and gather her things before walking out with the woman.

“That was very sweet of you,” the kindergarten teacher nudges her friend.

Melissa huffs. “Oi. Don’t knock me like that.” She readjusts her grip on the small box of pretzels before sighing. “But it was just a thank you for caring.”

“We care about you a lot more than you know,” Barbara smiles. “And just so you know… you are a Philly eleven, and I do think you should get yourself back out there. I know it can be scary to put your heart back out there, but even if it ends in heartbreak and a few smashed in headlights, I will always be here to help you pick up the pieces.”

“I know, Barb,” the redhead says softly, so out of character. “Thank you.”

“Think about it!” the older woman says as she parts and heads off in the direction of her car.

With a sigh, Melissa unlocks her car and gets everything settled before slumping into the front seat.

Coming home with a treat, she texts you.

Is it you? You reply back.

She chuckles at that. She can practically see the smirk written on your face. You’ll see.

When she pulls in, she can smell you before she sees you. You’re clearing smoking, but she can also smell the delicious dinner that you’re making. 

The redhead makes her way into the house, deep in thought of how much her friends are looking out for her, and attempting to piece together how to approach you about the topic of coming out.

It’s odd. Your girlfriend makes her way into the kitchen and places the box of pretzels down, but she doesn’t make her way over to you the way that she usually does. Instead, she’s looking down at the food, brows furrowed and deep in thought. 

You turn the burner down to ensure that the food won’t burn or bubble over before making your way behind Melissa. You wrap the arm that isn’t holding the joint around her waist before holding it up to her lips and offering her some. Even in your somewhat inebriated state, you know something is up with her.

“You look like you could use this more than me,” you chuckle softly.

She shrugs, but does take a hit before blowing the smoke out.

“Hard day?” you ask her gently. “Need to be taken care of?”

Again, she shrugs. She doesn’t really know what to say. This is so unlike Melissa. Usually, she comes in huffing about the ridiculous antics of her boss, she bounces on her toes when she tells you the sweet things the kids had done or said, and she is more than willing to dish out the tea that was spilled in the staff lounge earlier that day.

“Mel?” you ask softly, taking a cheek in your hand and cupping it gently. You force her to look at you. “What happened today?”

She laughs softly, before full out cackling. This sudden change in mood startles you.

“Mel, babe, you’re scaring me,” you tell her. “What happened?”

She sits down and plucks the joint out of your hand. “The crew planned an intervention for me,” she tells you with a chuckle as you go back over to the stove.

You turn. “Oh?”

She nods, a playful smirk on her face.

“For?” you raise a brow. You turn your attention back to dinner. “Can I guess?”

“Sure, hun,” she laughs as she takes another drag.

  “The aggression that you email the parents with?” No. “The heeled boots hitting the linoleum tile too loudly when you’re pissed?” No. “The arson?” No. “The threats of a bare knuckle fist fight?”

“Jesus,” Melissa laughs. “When you list all of that out, I sound like a terrible person.”

“No,” you say quickly. “I love everything about you!”

“I know you do,” she chuckles. “But no. None of that.”

“Then what?”

“My love life.”

“Your love life?” you turn to look at her incredulously.

“My love life,” the redhead sighs. “They had a banner, they had letters, they had the chair in the middle of the room… everything. And for me. When I don’t even have a problem with my love life.”

“So why did you come in lookin’ all sad?”

“Not sad… just thoughtful. The things they said… it showed me how lucky I am to have coworkers that care for me as deeply as they do. So at the end of the day, I had pretzels for them to show my gratitude. And after, Barbara and I walked out together… and… how would you feel about telling people that we’re together?”

You finish stirring the food and plating it before bringing it over to the table where your girlfriend is sitting. You set the two dishes in front of her before sliding into her lap. You finish off the joint together before smiling.

“I’ve been ready,” you tell her. “I’ve just been waiting for you to be.”

“Yeah?” she asks you as she kisses your temple.

You nod before taking a bite of your dinner. Damn, between the two of you, you should open your own restaurant. “We’ve been together for over a year, living together since six months in, I don’t plan on going anywhere, and I would hope you don’t either. I think it’s time.”

“I think so too,” she says softly. “But with the end of the year comin’ up… we’re all crazy busy.”

“So we can organize something for after the school year?” you suggest. “Maybe a fourth of July barbecue?”

So that’s what the two of you do. Your girlfriend walks into school on the last day and tells her friends that she knows that don’t have anything going on for Fourth of July, and they better be at her house for a barbecue. They all look at her, clearly confused. No one- not even Barb- has been invited over to the house since Melissa and Gary broke up. Nevertheless, they don’t argue and all promise to be there.

They all come in one clump, and the faces that they make when you open the door draped around Melissa are priceless.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” she says proudly. “The reason that I have been declining all of the people you’ve suggested I date, and the reason I have not ‘put myself back out there’. I don’t gotta when I have her.”

#melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

[qvnthesia]

Another You (.02)

an anakin skywalker/jedi consular!reader fic set during the clone wars

the pitch: best friends with anakin since he had joined the jedi order, you hadn’t expected to catch feelings for him, not that hard, at least. his intentions were clear — his heart already enraptured by the nubian senator, leaving you to ruminate about the prospect of letting go of not just him, but maybe everything. until another anakin shows up, and your — your universe’s anakin starts behaving strangely.

A/N: happy birthday, @kaizsche! i hope you enjoy this update!! a note to all readers — there’s no y/n here, the reader’s nickname for the fic is sky. happy reading!

part two— you're not helping.

word count: 7,042

part one | two (here) | ....

Simply put, Aayla Secura was enjoying this. Restraining herself with absolute failure from bursting into fits of laughter, Aayla watched as even the most experienced of Jedi masters drop their caf or just stare with their jaws dropped, t h u n d e r s t r u c k, at Anakin and his double — the long-haired Anakin — walking side-by-side with Master Kenobi being the only one who separated Anakin from thoroughly sizing up his copy, who simply viewed his new-found sights with a twinkling gaze and an even more unbothered attitude.

“Is it just me—” Aayla leans next to your figure, her eyes fixated on the live footage from the Jedi Temple’s security feed. “—or is our new guest having a wind machine around him? Because you humans could take some hair care tips from him.”

You scowl, elbows propped up on the desk, as you watch the footage behind your intertwined fingers held together as tightly as your frown.

“Relax, Sky,” Aayla props an elbow on your stiff shoulder, “He gives off a good vibe. And plus, he’s definitely more attractive than—”

“Aayla!”

The agile Twi’lek proves herself as one of the best the Jedi Order has to offer as she flicks on the live footage faster than your attempts to take it away from her.

“Mon amie, this is literally out of a holo drama!” she giggles, switching off the footage under your sharp gaze. “It’s a sign from the Force itself to take your leap and get your man, or in this case, one version of the man!”

“Aayla, he belongs to another universe—”

“And you’re saying you haven’t been attracted to him?”

You freeze, and Aayla smiles.

Twi’leks weren’t humans, but were sure as hell kriffing good with their senses, so Aayla knew you were lying, and how much she was going to enjoy the day ahead.

Maker, why did I go for this job?

You silenced your mind — there’s a member of the kriffing Jedi Council in the same room as you and you’d feel much more comfortable knowing Master Kenobi had a visual on his enemies rather than the six hundred scenarios of you and Anakin in your mind.

Instead, you focused on your datapad, tapping on six different squares as Anakin answered your questions.

“—Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. Commanding officer of the Five Hundred and First Legion—”

“Currently on leave,” Master Kenobi remarked, stroking his beard.

“Yeah, but still, Obi-Wan, come on—”

“You’re really Anakin?”

You perked up at Ahsoka’s voice, who munched on a ronto wrap while perched on one of the desks.

“Yes,” the long-haired Anakin hummed. You’ve lost count at how many times Ahsoka has asked the question, and you’re pretty sure Master Kenobi, Rex and Cody have the same question swimming their head since yesterday. It’s only the constant patience that has persevered through the Order’s new guest that sets a guilty fire ablaze within your body — and it’s definitely from the way his voice never even fluctuates, just stays the smooth baritone, lower than the usual. It’s the same tone that your Anakin’s voice always has when he woke up to you working again late in the night, or he just strolled into your quarters wearing nothing but shorts and pressed himself against your back, his toned frame somehow slotting perfectly against your edges.

“But…” she tilted her head, her lekku twitching. “You look so mature.”

“Snips!” barked Anakin, shooting a sharp scowl toward Master Kenobi’s hacking laughter. Ahsoka shrugged, stuffing herself with more of her ronto wrap. Anakin’s long-haired copy softly pressed his twitching lips together. He caught your lingering gaze, and spread his lips into a smile, one that crinkled the edges of his twinkling eyes.

“How long is this going to take again?”

You snapped to a stiff, attentive posture as Anakin cleared his throat.

Master Kenobi sighed again. “Anakin, you must be patient—”

“—farmboy here smells like weed—”

“Anakin!”

“He’s not wrong.”

Anakin and Master Kenobi’s bickering ceases.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, and you internally slap yourself for suddenly becoming his center of attention. Not such a bad idea, but then—

“Are you…” Master Kenobi finds his voice again, bringing you back to the room again. “Are you not a Jedi, Anakin?”

There’s a slight crack in Master Kenobi’s voice, one that propels Ahsoka to stand next to him. The long-haired Anakin surveys the both of them, eyes softly squinted deep in thought, possibly pondering on how to break this brand new piece of information to a suddenly very fragile-looking old man and a dispirited young teenager.

The long-haired Anakin exhales. “I’m Anakin Skywalker, aged twenty-one Galactic Standard. I left the Jedi Order after I turned nineteen, and I’m a farmer—well, part-time mechanic, on Naboo.”

Your eyes widen, exchanging a surprised glance with Aayla.

“Master Kenobi, are you sure none of us are high?”

“Padawan,” chastised the Jedi, his shock secured tightly behind his shields. “I apologise, Anakin—I mean—”

“It’s alright, Obi-Wan.”

The long-haired Anakin waved his hands, and Obi-Wan visibly stiffens at the use of his name by a version of Anakin he should know but he doesn’t.

“You did train me, but I…” he scratched the back of his head, showing all teeth with a gentle, sheepish smile. “Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

You swore he looked at you; you were always looking at Anakin for some maker-forsaken reason or the other.

“And the war?”

Anakin turns to Cody and Rex, their military etiquette all thrown out the window.

“What war?”

The floor practically shifts with a lurch from the Force.

“You… you don’t have a war? The Clone Wars?”

He turns to you, and the world melts away as you look up at him, datapad clutched to your chest as a shield from him and from your simmering desperation.

The long-haired Anakin — you should definitely give him a name aside from his long hair — has a piercing gaze, one your Anakin looked at you everytime you looked up at him, your chin pressed to his chest, his arms around your waist as his nose crinkled with every laugh shared between you two about the stupidity of the Separtists’ battle droids.

“From all that I’ve been privy to," he swallows, his sharp apple jutting out even more prominently that it did. “The galaxy isn’t having the, uh, Clone Wars. We do have clones, but they work with the Jedi and provide humanitarian aid.”

“Captain Rex and Commander Cody work under Obi-Wan, who took on a young Togruta as his new padawan after I left,” he turns once again to Ahsoka, smiling. “I’m not General Skywalker, I’m just… Anakin.”

You blink, unable to process him. A part of you pushes that there’s a complete liar standing before you, a shapeshifter sent here to trick the Republic and distract the Consular who’s coincidentally working to counter their latest planet-killing superweapon. But the Anakin before you is as real as yours. He’s had a different life that you can’t help but wonder if you’re there—

“Hypothetically speaking—” coughs Rex. “Can I sign up for multiversal travel?”

“Rex!”

“I don’t like this.”

“More than sand?”

Anakin rolls his eyes at Padmé, who gives him a laugh as she continues to type her latest proposal behind her desk.

His lithe legs propped upon the corner of her desk, Anakin crosses his arms together, replaying the exact moment where he felt your Force signature spring alive when his double looked at you.

He’d never elicited a similar reaction from you when he was there. All those moments holding you close, regaling you in his tales until you succumbed to sleep, feeling your heart against his and wishing it were just like this for eternity. It was torture having to stay away from you, to be called time and again to this siege and that battle when all he wanted was to wake up next to you and live the life that other people did when they loved each other in a way he had loved you since the two of you were sixteen.

He even felt embarrassed to voice this in front of the Chancellor, who had suspiciously kept on pestering him to great lengths to enquire about the reason for his distraction. Clearly, he’d been sloppy — even Obi-Wan had managed to pick up his emotions in the heat of the battle. He’d decided to stay away from the Temple, show his ‘interest’ in politics so that such a slip wouldn’t occur again though, that your position as a Jedi wouldn’t be compromised by his misery. Though, he thinks to himself, the emergence of his double from another dimension spelled trouble for him in both Basic and Huttese.

Damn father, he grumbled to himself.

“If you keep having that stupid, angry look on your face, I’m afraid Sabé would be more than happy to throw you out of my office.”

Anakin sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just—” he stood up from his seat, pacing. “She likes him more! That peaceful, farming version of me over… me.”

Padmé turned her attention away from the blue screen, sincere pity softly twisting her lips.

“And you’re here, out of all places.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m just saying,” she shrugged, her smile growing wider. “It’s a sign.”

Anakin hesitated, his stomach roiling with anxiety.

“Are you sure I should—?”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Anakin laughs. Hope blooming bright in his chest, he gives his childhood friend a grateful nod, and races out of the office.

Having receiving enough complaints about ‘seeing double’ of a certain Anakin Skywalker, Master Yoda explicitly commanded you to serve as the long-haired Anakin’s tour guide for the day, remarking a day away from the Temple ought to make him comfortable in his new universe — and reduce Master Windu’s migraines. Since you concomittantly had to visit the Senate Archives for business, you decided your new guest would accompany you to the prompt excursion to the laughing stock that was the Galaxy’s governing body.

Both of you had been loaned a speeder by the Jedi Council, to which the long-haired Anakin simply pointed a slender finger to a sleek, open-roofed speeder glinting under the spotlight of Coruscant’s artificial weather.

"That looks better, wouldn’t you think?” he grinned.

Maker, let the Force lend its might to you today to calm your fluttering heart. He wasn’t just glowing with happiness, you knew very well he was playing with you, and you’d be a fool to deny it wasn’t a good look on him.

So, with a begrudging sigh, you agreed, and headed straight for Dex’s Diner — an establishment he seemed quite familiar with.

“Ani!” Dex roared proudly, sweeping you and him in a hug before you even had a chance to look around for empty seats. “Look at how you’ve grown,” he said appraisingly as he drew back, “And what’s with the hair, eh? All dressed up for a date?”

“This—no—” you fervently shook your head, cheeks ablaze. “No, this isn’t a date—”

You glared pointedly at the long-haired Anakin — Ani — who softly cocked his brow. He seemed to decide with himself for a moment, and then spread his lips in a cocksure grin, the exact same your Anakin had in those holo-videos labelled ‘Hero with No Fear’ racking up views all over the galaxy.

“Last time I remember—”

He snakes his arm around your waist and pulls you next to his toned frame.

“—I did get a yes.”

“That was fun.”

Your disagreements lose to the quick beat of your heart, and you stab the scoopful of ice cream in your hands as you walk through the senate hallways. Leaving aside the fact that the trip to the archives was a monumental failure as you’d expected, you’d come as close as falling to the dark side to melt into a pool of a miserable puddle of your love and embarrassment.

“You’ll figure it out.”

You look up at him, realising the two of you have come to a stop in the middle of your footsteps.

“Whatever the enemy is planning, I’m sure you’ll foil their plans. I know it.”

He smiles, licking the ice cream off the corner of his lips and jutting the spoon in the air as if it were his lightsaber.

The confidence in his voice makes you wonder if he knew you. Not you, but a version of you in his universe.

What were you to this version of Anakin? Were you what Anakin was in your universe? The ‘Heroine with No Fear,’ or ‘The Jedi with No Fear,’ even if there was no war in his galaxy. Were you an acclaimed Jedi or a nobody from the backwater planet you belonged to?

Were you even someone he liked? With the manner you currently struggled to contain the depth of admiration you harboured for your Anakin, being lovers seemed out of the question. Were you at least his friend? Or, you gulped to yourself as your heart sunk low, were you dead?

“Consular Jedi.”

Your voice perked up at the entourage making way towards you, led by—

“Chancellor Palpatine!”

You offered the old man a short bow, which he returned to you with an amicable smile. His eyes roved over—

“Anakin, my dear boy,” his visage extended over to Ani; he let out a chuckle. “I must have caught you by surprise, son.”

You looked over to Ani, who had dropped his ice cream and the little wooden spoon on the floor, the hem of the Chancellor’s robes trailing with tiny chocolate chips.

He looked like a deer caught in the spotlight, except only a fool would describe him as a prey. No, he looked like the commander that Anakin always had been — alert, sharp, observant, and most of all, protective of his loved ones and his duty.

“Are you alright, my boy?”

The Chancellor’s eyes darted between the two of you, and you cleared your throat, wrapping your arm around Ani’s right one, shielding it entirely by your billowing robes.

“We were just coming back from the archives, Chancellor,” you cleared your throat. Feeling Ani tighten his grip around your arm, you continued. “Anakin thought to offer an extra set of hands in my search for a solution to the Separatists’ rumoured advantage.”

“Ah, of course,” the man nodded, interwining his bony fingers one over the other hand. “I must not hinder you, I suppose—Anakin, my boy, do come for a visit, will you? You seem to be avoiding me, though I now understand why.”

He shot a fatherly wink at Ani, who only seemed to stiffen even further, his arms balling into tight, iron-rod fists.

“Of course,” Ani found his voice, steel replacing his usual gentleness. “It was lovely meeting you but I’m afraid we must be on our way—”

Before you could even hear the old man’s professional toodle-oo, Ani simply tugged you by your arm and walked past the entourage, his long strides taking you to the far end of the Senate’s circular hallways within a blink of your eye. Reaching a destination guarateeing privacy, he looked around.

“Anakin, what—WHOA!”

You let out a grunt as your back slammed against the durasteel walls. He looks down at you, an apology flashing in his eyes, but the steel in his voice stops your protests.

“What the kark is that man doing here?”

Your eyebrows shoot up into your forehead, “What?”

You look at him through the Force; his sun is now an eclipse, shadowed by the foreboding storm and thunder.

“Anakin,” you gulp softly, gathering your courage, “He’s the Supreme Chancellor, what—what are you—”

You pause, your mind backpedalling to the events in your office.

“Things happened, and I made the choice to leave.”

He shifts in his feet just as your eyes widen.

“Sky.”

His arms wrap around your trembling figure, but you never leave his gaze.

“Sky, listen to me, it’s okay—”

“Why…” you cut in, failing to sound calm. “Why did you leave the Order?”

“Because I fulfilled my destiny.”

The storm within him dissolves with a wave of the seas within him. Your glare demands answers; his chest puts strain on the fibres of his beige shirt as he exhales sharply.

"I discovered the Sith that had been plaguing the Jedi and the Republic. It was…”

He lets out a bitter chuckle, the corners of his lips downturned.

“It was so ingenious, the way he had been doing it. Getting close to me ever since I was a child, preying on my fears, my insecurities. Deluding me into thinking I was going to be alone forever simply because I was different than the others, that I was born of no father and only a loving mother, that I was a child of the Force itself and as such, the Jedi viewed me as a threat.”

“But what he hadn’t seen coming, what even I hadn’t expected to gain was that I began to have people on my side. People who trained me and taught me that the Dark is never the option to take, because it takes and it takes from you and leaves you wanting more, it leaves you empty, as a shell of who you were. It leaves you alone and no one to go to. And I had people… people who pulled me back—”

He meets your gaze, blown open and vulnerable.

“—people who made me see reason, that my mind was being tipped in a direction that was not of my own making, but of the Sith who I had allowed to poison my mind since I was a child. Sky…”

He intakes a sharp breath.

“I am the Chosen One just as your Anakin is. And I did it. I fulfilled my destiny and stopped the return of the Sith.”

Ani holds your hands, pressing your palm to his chest. A tremor passes through your body, and he steadies your figure, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Please, you must believe me. I can sense you care deeply for my variant in this universe, and he is in grave danger, Sky.”

Your mind flashes back to one of Master Yoda’s classes, where he had droned in his wise way how the Force made itself known to warn its believers that life itself was in grave danger; it was a warning, a shadow, an event, something or the other that shook the defenders into of their senses and prompted them to act for the betterment of the survival of the Galaxy — and for your own good.

You had felt the Force the first time when Master Windu had arrived to your village years ago, offering his hand to enter the world of the Jedi. The Force had given a warm nudge for you to take his hand and take the chance; you had taken it.

You had felt the Force the second time when you met Anakin Skywalker, nine years old, young and shy, and terribly homesick for the embrace of his mother’s arms. The Force had giggled, and you had decided, fate or not, that you would bring a smile to his forlorn face.

You had felt the Force the third time when you were on Geonosis, standing the arena with your master, saber ignited as Anakin let out a joyous cheer, joining you back-to-back as you both tore through droid after droid in the relentless carnage. The Force, triumphant, had melded the two of you as one machine, as one competently-built Corellian freighter tearing apart the enemy.

The present moment is when you feel the Force again, screaming. You see death and blood, corpses of younglings and clone soldiers strewn on the floors of the Jedi Temple. But Anakin’s there, and you see hope, you see a future with laughing children and the galaxy, alive than you’ve ever felt it to be.

The Force holds its breath, and despite what the Jedi Code said, you’ve never chosen to ignore life.

You steel yourself and look up at him, determined.

“I believe you.”

His gaze widens, and the temperature around you shoots up, charged.

But it isn’t coming from the Anakin front of you, rather from a few feet away from the both of you.

You meet the dark look on your Anakin’s face, his armor glinting in the pale, sterile Coruscanti sunlight.

You haven’t even blinked, but he’s next to you in mere six steps, Ani’s hurling toward the ground, and you’re in Anakin’s arms, warm, cold, safe and scared.

“Anakin.”

He looks down at you, and he melts.

“It’s okay, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

You turn to Ani, who’s now on his feet, his stance as same as your Anakin.

“We need to leave,” he states to his armoured copy, stark.

“He’s right,” you turn back to Anakin, “We’re in danger, Anakin, the Chancellor is the Sith—”

“What?!”

He recoils, looking back and forth between him and you.

“Sky, he’s messing with you, don’t listen to him—”

“Are you serious?” scoffs Ani, balling his hands into tight fists.

“You’re the one to talk—”

The sky suddenly turns dark, lights blinking awake in the buildings outside. Clouds fog the tallest skyscrapers, crackling with blue lightning.

The floor beneath you trembles, and you look at the end of the hallway.

There’s a man in a dark robe that you could’ve mistaken for a statue. But his eyes are a burning yellow that remind you of the flames of your Master’s funeral pyre.

The hooded figure bristles, and you can feel his sickly smile on your skin, feel the two Anakins next to you tense as the cold finally settles on their shoulders.

The name shouldn’t click in your head, but it does.

“Sidious.”

Silence rings in your ears.

“On three,” whispers Ani.

His fingers grasp yours and, from the corner of your eyes, Anakin holds your left hand as delicate his shock and anger can allow his metal arm to be.

“One, two—”

You take toward the window. 

“—three.”

CRASH !

The air r i p s with a violent blue and purple, and glass tears at your clothes as the air whips at your face and you freefall against the cold steel and stabbing rain.

.

to be continued...

thank you so so much for reading! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, drop a comment below! 💗✨

cross-posted on AO3

part one | two (here) | ....

#star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #clone wars anakin #anakin x reader #reader insert #anakin x you #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #anakin skywalker x jedi!reader #star wars x reader #star wars x imagine #skywalker imagine #sw fanfic #show: the clone wars #au anakin involved #mutual pining #friends to lovers #getting together #pining #slow burn

[norrisleclercf1]

Hey, could you maybe write something and the reader being a driver on the grid and maybe either drying the drivers parade or interviews where she is surrounded by the boys ( Lando, charles, George, idm who else ) and maybe she starts to feel unwell and faints so the boys look after her. Hope this is okay x

It's not that it was a particularly hot day, but the constant changing weather of the track was giving you a hard time. The constant pressure changes of cold then hot, then humid to raining was getting to you. Something your team was well aware of when you got every chance to sit down with your head between your legs.

"Drink some water, come on." Max urges crouching in front of your chair handing you the water bottle. You say nothing, fingers tingly as you grab the water, taking slow sips. Max's fingers go to the back of your neck rubbing a pressure point. "Feels good." You mumble the fog in your brain lifting but not enough.

"Guys, the driver's parade is about to start." Christian stops, seeing the state your in. "Hey, you don't have to go." Pushing you back down, you shake it off. "No, no. If I can't attend the driver's parade, then I can't race. I'm fine." Both Max and Christian knew you weren't telling the truth.

"Watch her closely, I'd rather she not races then kill herself." Max nods, sent off with a pat on the back as you pull yourself together. Walking to towards the large bed truck you climb out, shaking out your fingers. The tingling feeling was slowly starting to grow, but you knew it was just a pinched nerve. "You alright?" Max whispers, hand on your back to stop your slight tittering.

"Of course, stop being a mother hen." Moving you head down the truck getting to where Lando, Oscar, Charles, Carlos, and Pierre were. Max was close behind you slotting in next to Lando. You lean against the railing, doing that you feel the world go forward yet you blink it away everything going back to normal.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" Oscar's concerned voice has you looking up, all the drivers looking at you worried. "Yes," You groan exhausted of people asking if you're okay. "I'm just tired that's it, I can't be tired?" You snap, patience wear thin. "Hey, he's just worried. You don't need to snap at him." Lando glares, nodding at Oscar that it's okay.

"Water." Max nods at the bottle in your hand, shoving it your mouth you take slow sips from the straw but it doesn't help the fuzzy feeling filling your brain or the way you start to get tunnel vision. The truck starts to move, having your stomach lurch you grip the railing tight.

It's halfway through, Charles talking to you, but his voice turned into static about 5 minutes ago. "Fuck, she's going down." Someone curses as your world goes dark, multiple arms and accents fade out.

------------------------

It's embarrassing, passing out during the drivers parade and you were deemed unfit to drive. Having to watch the most chaotic race every instead of being in the middle of it. Max had won, tying with Seb of course no one was happy about it.

Apparently, his monotone celebration was ill-fit for what he's doing. But that's Max, you still remember him going crazy sometimes on the radio. "You should be celebrating." You grumble, looking at the dejected man in red.

"I was doomed the moment I kept going off at turn 1 during practice." Is all Charles says typing away on his phone. "So? You're talented." You argue, a smile pulling at Charles's lips. "The car is shit." You smile biting into a cracker, hating the bland taste in your mouth.

"How's sleeping beauty?" Thick puffy curls pop into the door, a smiling face of Lando before he gets tripped in Max shoving his way in. "Is she drinking enough water? Have you been lightheaded again? What about food?" Max lists off everything as Charles roll his eyes.

"You smell." You gag, the sweat, rain, and champagne was not a good mix. "Oh, I'm sorry." Max steps back, Lando snickers as Oscar, Carlos, and Pierre soon join. The other drivers had to go to interviews, but Oscar said the rest would be visiting you after.

"You don't have to stay with me." You told them later, but they said they weren't leaving until the medic said you were all good. Guess you'll have to deal with the sweaty men in your room.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #f1 reader #driver!reader #f1 blurb #f1 oneshot #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #lando norris #charles leclerc #max verstappen #pierre gasly #carlos sainz #oscar piastri #driver!reader x f1 #f1 x driver!reader #f1 fluff

[bulkhummus]

What I think is particularly heart breaking about this episode, is that Esteban is immortalizing a memory that Cecil doesn’t get to experience. Esteban knows about his grandfather, because he has heard the story several times before according to Abby, in fact they all just heard it. Cecil is experiencing, second hand, remnants of a memory that slides off of him. It refuses to stick.

There is something so poetic to me about Cecil being a reporter, a journalist, an observer, and doing everything to piece together a story from literal scraps of his own life, only to find its already been written for him. The story has already been told. Cecil doesn’t listen to stories, he tells them. I can think of nothing more infuriating than a story being told and not having a satisfying ending, or an ending that makes sense. Nothing within the story justified the ending. And yet we have seen it before throughout the show.

I am reminded of the episode It Doesn’t Hold Up, where Cecil watches the last few minutes of his comfort film Cat Ballou, changed and different. He has seen the same movie over and over and over again, and now the ending is different. In the drawing Esteban drew in 245, there is a shovel stuck into the dirt, and there is a boy climbing into a tree. In the ending of Cat Ballou, there is a man digging into the base of the tree. Just like in the episode It Sticks With You, when Abby, Cecil and their mother journey into the woods, and Cecil climbs into a tree over and over and over again until he can no longer remember the outing with his husband and son. Just like in Cassettes, when a young Cecil’s story is cut short, in an ending that Cecil refuses to listen to, immortalized on tape.

Just like in Liminal Spaces, when Cecil enters a space that is neither here nor there and is haunted by someone who tells him that he wants Cecil to remember. The very face that Cecil saw in Cat Ballou in It Doesn’t Hold Up. In fact, he tells Cecil he has no choice, before once again, he is pulled from the story.

Cecil’s whole life is one long interrupted narrative. It’s as if he is an old cassette that isn’t rewound all the way before pulled out of the slot and put back on a shelf. The next person to listen to the tape, unknowing, doesn’t realize where they’re starting off is not the beginning. There are things missing. Cecil has gotten so good at forgetting (and justifiably so) — has forgotten how to stop. He’s recording over the same tape over and over again until the tape inside is no longer coherent. I’m thinking, of the sound of a cassette being rewound, and how it could sound very much like how Cecil is often describing owl sounds.

So, how disquieting, to have your own family stare back at you, privy to information about yourself that you do not get to have. Cecil is there, quite literally, to construct a story for his town, but who is there to construct a story for him? A man you used to hate? A sister you aren’t sure you even like? A husband who you have forgotten before? Children who see and hear more than you realize? The listener?

No. Instead he will sit until dawn comes, and be made a fool out of trying to create a story, maybe even a better one, out of scraps of memories.

#my baby girl is in denial okay and thats ok #i think its normal and healthy and good #im having so many thoughts my nbrain is moving a mile a minute #and like this was NOT coherent bc theres so much i want to talk anout but #damn how fucking sad this episode was im onsessed #i lvoe when cecils going through it #it doesnt hold up #Casette #It Sticks with You #Bedtime Story #cat ballou #liminal spaces #go to the mirror #wtnv #welcome to night vale #cecil palmer #wtnv spoilers

[arandomdai]

Persephone Lost Herself To Marriage

⚠️ Warning: I'm just saying my opinions (and theories) like everyone else. So put your tin foil hats on, it's going to be a LONG read. Enjoy!!!⚠️

• The Realization

This was/is a cry for help. She's finally admitted something that we (some of us) already noticed. The fact that she's so worried about her blue corpse of a man's feelings, while in denial about killing hundreds if not thousands of mortals in seconds...is nasty work. Like okay you don't know yourself, good we are getting somewhere. But are you willing to change your ways like finally admitting that your Mom was right, Minthe was right (about you and your man), Zeus was right (where he says they didn't know each other long), finally realize your selfish and a murderer, etc. Like I wanna see the change, not this boohoo act. And speaking of Demeter, she is a little bit at fault for why Persephone acts like this. If she would've told her about being a FG, teach her how to defend herself, help her control her powers or help make her own decisions, none of this wouldn't happen. Now Persephone (this her own fault here)is trapped with guilt, a blu gru, and a whole population of shades coming in. Once this is over, I pray to God that she wakes up, and leave that man, live in the mortal realm, and hopefully come to terms/works on herself to know who she is because her being a Queen is not one of them.

•Hades Is Her Downfall

This man never loved her. He wanted to sleep with her knowing he had a girlfriend (Minthe at the time) and when she was only 19 years old !!!(smdh 🤢😒), somehow he shows up in her nightmare saying, "I Know That I Can Smell Your Ambitions As They Rot At Your Feet.", he didn't let Persephone tell him what happened, lies about everything, disrespects Demeter, never gave Thanatos a real apology, never actually going to therapy, etc, need I say more? This man genuinely hates powerful women. He sabotaged Demeter's right to rule the mortal realm, gets angry when women stand up for themselves, preys on the vulnerable and young, dangles money over them, had an affair with Hera behind his brothers back, etc, and Persephone still thinks he's husband material... chile. Like how come she doesn't see those horrible qualities and notice that he brings out the worst in her? Real men don't treat women like this. To be fair, that first genocide she caused was all her fault, like yes they were playing in her face, but she didn't need to start killing people. But you know what she did, she was willing to help the shades get into the Underworld (and he was mad about that 😒). Now we're on to our second genocide, and this man was the cause of this as well (mostly her fault but still). The fact he said "I can't stop her from trying." Like yes you can Blunocchio 🙄. I'm so tired of him, and his evil ways. Persephone really needs to understand that man was never in her corner, and if he was, he would've left her alone from the very beginning. The lesson is don't EVER let a man be your downfall and try to make you feel powerless. If he can't take how powerful you are, he was never the one and he's an insecure a**hole.

• There Was Always Someone

Hydros tried to warn Gaia

People thought Rhea was stupid for loving Kronos

Probably someone close to the Missing Goddess tried to warn her

Demeter warned Persephone

Do we see the pattern? Constantly losing yourself in love with abusive men, getting your powers drained because they wanted to prove that they were worth loving, and trying to prove the haters wrong (looking at you author)? Well, yes. Persephone had her twenties to look forward to (school, TOGEM, and starting her future), but made a man child the #1 priority. Had her thirties (self reflection, getting her shit together, realize she can do bad by herself.), but still managed to keep him in the #1 priority slot, instead of her and her own mother. Like does she not get that her mom is her real best friend? These fertility goddesses (excluding Metis 🤢) wish that they would've listened to those people/or families, and saw from their point of view that their men weren't no good, and go from there. Like did Persephone ever think about what Zeus told her ( his back story about what happened to Rhea), nope. Just ignored it because she never listens, and loves finding out the hard way 🙄😒. If the author wanted a real ('cause let's be honest, it's not) feminist retelling, she could've had Persephone look at the fertility goddesses differently, Seeing there struggles, learn that Demeter just didn't want to see her get hurt, and walk away from him (but in a perfect world I guess 🫤). Remember y'all there is always someone in your corner that is looking out for you and/or showing they love you.

• Persephone's Fate

Until she starts listening to the right people, know how to think for herself, and realize that man ain't crap, she's doomed. Years from now, she's going to be trapped in a marriage full of regrets and shattered dreams, sparkling and useless if you will. Hades will continue to use and abuse her. Hell, wouldn't be surprised if he started cheating on her like he cheated on Minthe. Also, wouldn't be shocked if she becomes the next Hera, after all she was just her stand in. Hades would take most of her powers, someone defeats him, and puts him in prison somewhere, she starts seeing him, and no one else can. Would that be something? I mean he was in her dreams telling her that her ambitions will rot. Also people wouldn't want to come around her, and she gotta live with that for the rest of her life. Demeter, lasion, and her son living life to the fullest, so who can she call? She is stuck in a tragic cautionary tale of a fertility goddess. Someone that wanted to prove the haters wrong, wanted to be worthy of loving, and a victim of a man's abuse and manipulations.

#lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus criticism #it was hades all along #lore olympus critical #tin foil hats

[jojomiwbvb6]

Author's note: I thought this blurb up tonight and knew you guys will eat it up bc bitch, me too. (Yes the title is inspired by INK, but it fits)

The Shower Scene

Warnings: this is a work of fiction. NSFW, MDNI. Smut (18+) Swearing, voyeurism, descriptive, masturbation

Part 2 / Part 3

You had a long day on tour. Load-in was exhausting. Every time you turned around, at least one mechanism had a glitch or a cable went haywire. At least 2 malfunctions during the concert that they spent 10 minutes fixing. By the time load-out commenced, you were flat on your face and crawling to the bus.

The Bad Omens bus was as homey and fun as they could make it on the road. Tomorrow they had a day off in Denver, Colorado, and decided to venture the city for the day. As the bus pulled up to their nightly hotel, the crew, including you, and the band gathered their bags and got ready to depart the bus.

"Dude, I'm so ready to lay in that goddamn bed, I'm so fuckin' tired," Ruffilo commented.

"Fuck yeah, Albuquerque fucked me up." Folio responded.

"I'm gonna take the hottest fucking shower. The devil himself wouldn't be able to take the heat." You said.

This earned a chuckle from a few of the guys around you.

Noah walked up behind his bandmates. His face was calm, devoid of having any idea of what he could be thinking. He briefly ran his eyes over you, quickly looking away into the shadows.

Noah was always so cool, calm, and collected. He was so talented and funny and so, so fine. Of course you would never tell him how much you would say yes to him bending you over if he asked for it.

--

Holding your key in hand, you walk down the stale smelling hallway until you reach your door. You slide the key card into the slot, the door clicks, and you let yourself in.

You're looking at the floor before observing the room, rolling your suitcase into the door. You notice the light is already on and-- "oh my fucking god dude, you scared the shit out of me!"

Noah smirks and gives you a laugh. "Good,"

You blush, and quickly look for something else to look at.

"I know that normally we wouldn't room together," he paused, maybe noticing I was holding my breath. But he continued, "But the hotel was short a room, and we got stuck together last minute." He stopped again.

You nodded, trying to act like you normally do.

"If you're uncomfortable..." He began to say, unsure.

"No, Noah. Not at all. We bunk in the same bus. It's not like we're sleeping together."

There was a small silence that carried on slightly too long.

"Mmm. So, Imma take a shower," you said, ending the conversation with the man you were desperately trying not to want for the sake of your job.

You enter the bathroom, stepping out of your clothes. The door locked behind you, you stare at it and begin to overthink. The tension in your stomach gets you hot when you get the idea. You slowly unlock the door, slowly and silently turning the door handle and leaving the door cracked just a little.

The hot water hits your skin, steam rising into the air. You look at the door, there's nothing there. You shrug. It wouldn't work anyway, there's no way he's even gonna notice.

--

Noah looks down at his phone.

Hey, come get a drink downstairs, we at the bar.

The text from Davis lights up his phone. He texted back,

Yup be down in a minute dude.

Noah gets up from his bed and makes his way to the door, approaching the bathroom. He slows his tracks. Noticing that you had accidentally left the door cracked, Noah reaches out and goes to close the door. He looks up and just by accident, he gets a glimpse of the whole side of you.

You're closing your eyes, caressing yourself with the soap running down your breasts and to your hips. Everything all on display.

He knows that he should look away from you, but my God, the way your hands rub at your skin, his breath hitches and he's glued to his position.

--

After a few minutes of showering, you'd given up the small ounce of hope you had that your nasty fantasy faded and you began to really take a shower.

You applied the soap to your chest and stomach, rubbing the loofah against your skin. You scrubbed at your legs, and then when you glanced up, you almost didn't catch the tall silhouette in the shadow of the hotel room behind him. You did a double take, to make sure he was what you were seeing, and he was.

Your breath picked up. Smirking, you bit your lip and turned away from him. He didn't need to speak, and neither did you. He didn't have to know that you saw him, if he couldn't tell you did. No one in the band or crew needed to know he was in that door frame looking at your wet, naked body. And it's what you wanted.

You began to make every movement you made sexually charged. Pulling your hands over your breasts, you tugged on your nipples. Your fingers caressed and played with your breasts, rubbing the soap into them.

Dragging your fingers down to your navel, you squirmed. How much of a show did you want to give Noah? You decided you wanted him to remember just how hot you got with him standing there.

Not yet looking at him, you turn your back to the door. Rubbing your hands into your ass cheeks, gripping and spreading them only slightly. You bent over as you did this, sure to give him a little sneak peak of what you want him to see very soon.

You see his silhouette shift in the door over your shoulder, just knowing you have him right where you want him.

You turn around, finally letting your hand slide further down, and leaning against the back shower wall, you raise your leg to the ledge of the bath. You finally allow him your gaze and look at him completely as you spread your legs and sink your fingers into yourself, letting a small moan fall from your mouth.

You hear a quiet "Fuck," from the doorway and see his long, tatted fingers grip the door frame, revealing his presence from the shadows.

"Mm. I knew you were there," you said very quietly. He gave no response. You didn't look at him, continuing your movements into your pussy and letting Noah drink in every stroke and buck into your hand.

You continued to fuck onto your hand, gaining confidence under his silent watch. You turned your back to him again, bending over and putting your entire pussy on display for his viewing pleasure. Reaching underneath you, you begin rubbing yourself at a fast pace, small moans falling out of your mouth. You buck back on your hand again when you sink two fingers into yourself. You see Noah's fingers gripping the trim and more of his hand appears from the dark.

You gave him another treat by moaning "fuckkkk," and crying out. You swear you hear a growl from the doorway. The hand falls, palming a desperate hard on, but there's no way he wants what he is seeing to stop.

This was way too hot.

You took your fingers from your heat and placed them in your mouth, looking directly at the doorway. Dragging your hand over your pussy again, you finally lock eyes with his dangerous glinting eyes in the dark.

You insert a finger. "Oh, fuck," you smirk and tease as you talk. You look away, and pretending Noah isn't even there, you put in another finger. "Mmm..." And one more finger, you're brave enough to sigh, "Noahhh..."

At that, he storms into the bathroom. It's no longer a "secret" that he was standing there. His eyes are wicked and wild with a starving desire and he doesn't even hide the hard rise in his sweats. You're so hot and wet already, but it makes you tremble that he's here and has his eyes on your spread heat.

"Fuck..." You trail, gasping through your self assault that you didn't even stop when he surprised you with his barging in. You gasp, a moan coming out through your sentence. "Don't speak. Don't do anything. Just watch me, Noah. Fucking watch me... Please."

He does as you ask. He latches and locks the bathroom door, leaning back on the sink. Noah doesn't say a word. He doesn't touch himself, but his eyes feast on every single inch of you that's available to him.

You continue to touch and tease your body. Your fingers move faster and your heat is wetter with his presence in the room. Your moans are quiet but just loud enough for his ears. You see him run his eyes down your body with a slow lick of his lips.

Under his gaze, your fingers begin to move faster and your gasps come quicker. You're curling your fingers against that spot inside you, arching your back and giving him the best show possible.

"Ah, ah, ah," you chant, "Noah, fuck," you give to him, earning a small and satisfactory "mm." From Noah.

Your eyes roll back. Your hands are making your head spin and your stomach clench under his eyes as you rub your clit and bite your lip. His eyes never give way and stay locked on you. Sparks shoot through your body and your gasps never end. You see stars, your juices flowing down your legs. You're crumpled against the wall and panting.

Noah doesn't speak. He gives you one last burning, hot look, soaking the whole sight and everything that just happened into his mind.

He smirks at you, unlocks the door, and without saying a single word to you, he leaves the bathroom.

--

Noah. Dude. Thought you were coming down?

Text from Davis again.

Sorry man, I accidentally passed out for a minute. Be right there.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #nick folio #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #The Shower Scene Noah