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swordsandholly · 11 days

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Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

Note

Now, imagine Price and Konig pinning after same girl...

RIP to that girl. 😭

It's horrible! Imagine being some civilian expert, like a military photographer or journalist, or even just a person who mostly works with civilians strapped in dangerous situations. You're soft, softer than any normal soldier, you're not good with weapons and try to negotiate your way out of every possible conflict. You're assigned to work with negotiations between SpecGru and KorTac because they have to make a joint operation, but you're only making things more difficult...Price is more emotionally mature, of course, he has experience talking to women, especially such pretty young things. He is trying to win you over like a proper gentleman, never allowing you in danger and kinda forcing you into the role of just emotional support because he doesn't want your pretty face to get blown up! Especially near those dirty mercs... Now, Konig is as old as Price. Mature, almost like him - but he has an axe to pick with those pricks from the normal military, especially since Price is an expert in sniping, and he is just so conventionally attractive, it's not fair! As a PMC member, Konig has too much money saved - and he is not afraid to use it against you. For you, I mean. You don't even need this manu equipment, you're literally just a negotiator, but suddenly you get a new printer, a new laptop, a new set of weirdly fitting lingerie...god, this is embarrassing because you just can't say no to both men! They're horrible, especially when they understand that a pretty girl like you just can't decide between them( They can settle a bet in both of your holes, not trying to murder one another just for a second so they could fuck you more efficiently .

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #price x reader #yandere price

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lovelyhan · 1 year

Note

enemies to lovers prompt #10 "I'm not driving home with you..." with mingyu, thx <3

— vices & virtues ⟢

being from one of the most opulent families in the city, you're used to getting everything you want. but when you realize that your hot bodyguard is strictly off-limits, you treat him like anything else you can't have: with unbridled hostility.

★ FEATURING; bodyguard!mingyu x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.4k words

★ TAGS; enemies to lovers, unresolved sexual tension, smut

★ WARNINGS; alcohol consumption, cigarettes, implied/referenced drug use, self-destructive behavior in general, (probably inaccurate) discussions about drug poisoning, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; when i tell you i speedwrote this just in time for mingyu day,,, eugh i love you so much gyugyu and thank you to the anon who sent this in a while back!! this prompt was so tasty to work with!

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, couch sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, dacryphilia, size kink, mating press, overstimulation, creampie

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi

★ MINGYU TAGLIST; @ @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme - @zeenanigans - @noveniadelia

When the tiniest sliver of consciousness slips into your inebriated brain, you feel the cold tile of the bathroom floor being pried off your face. Well, more like you're being gently lifted off it, and into the arms of someone warm.

You nearly lean into their embrace until you catch a whiff of that familiar, musky cologne with hint of something like pine. It takes you some effort to keep yourself from bolting out of his grasp and retching your guts out in the toilet again.

You deign to squint your eyes despite the harsh fluorescent light razing your vision. Looking down on you is none other than Kim Mingyu, gaze as indifferent as ever. Unfortunately, you're too drunk or high to figure out how he even found you here, but you know there's no weaseling your way out when your father's little lapdog has tracked you down.

"What're you doing here?" you still ask even if you knew the answer.

It's my job to take care of you.

"It's my job to take care of you," he says the words in the same way you imagined him to—apathetic. Indecipherable.

"Fuck you. I don't need you to take care of me," you scoff. "My friends'll drop me off at my apartment like they always do."

Mingyu rolls his eyes. "You mean the same friends who called me because they're tired of having to clean up after your shit? I don't want to be here either, princess, but I'm actually getting paid to keep you in line, if you hadn't known that yet."

There's something so unfairly attractive in the snark in his tone, and you fucking hate him for it. Mostly, you hate yourself for even thinking that anything about Mingyu is remotely alluring.

In the end, you just tell yourself that you're an objective person. You have eyes, and it won't cost anything to admit that Mingyu is conventionally attractive. Even if you did hate his guts.

Not that he'll ever hear you admit that aloud, though.

You're vaguely aware of how the hem of your too-short dress rides up your thighs as Mingyu rises back to his full height—having no problems carrying you out of the bathroom bridal-style.

Under normal circumstances, you would've struggled. Proved that you could very much handle yourself despite being obviously hammered. But your head is spinning, and your limbs feel like they'll disintegrate any second.

Eyes closed, you press your face into the fine fabric of Mingyu's suit—breathing in the same scent that repulsed you not five minutes earlier in an attempt at anchoring your consciousness.

As Mingyu maneuvers you out of the bathroom, the loud bass blaring from the speakers at the frat party you've decided to attend last minute rings in your eardrums. You don't have to see your surroundings to know you've got onlookers. Those unsubtle comments are clue enough to know you're being watched.

Who is that? Her boyfriend?

No, idiot, that's probably her bodyguard or some shit. Her family's loaded as fuck.

So lucky. If I had a bodyguard like that, I'd totally let him smash.

The real question is: would he let you smash?

Fuck you.

You want to flash them the most disgusted look you could muster. As if you'd stoop low enough to fuck Mingyu, of all people. Don't they know who you are? You could easily let any man or woman you wanted on their knees for you.

You were supposed to stick to your regular routine of getting railed into the next day after a few drinks and sticks, but you obviously got a little too excited about the new strains your friends snuck into the party. Now you're being princess carried by a man you absolutely despise, too shit-faced to even be remotely desired by anyone else at the moment.

Still, never in a million years would you consider having this guy as a bodyguard lucky.

You can tell you're outside when the music starts to fade in the distance and the cold starts to prickle your legs and arms. A somewhat coherent part of you recalls leaving your designer jacket in the coatrack of the frat house, and if you weren't so fucking shit-faced, you would've yelled at Mingyu to go back and get it.

But just before you can consider asking him somewhat nicely, you hear him unlock a car that definitely doesn't sound like yours—making your ears perk up, and your consciousness flood back in much faster.

"What are you—?"

You thrash in Mingyu's arms until he lets you down on the ground—throwing him a stone-cold glare right after. The fact that your pedicured feet are in direct contact with the asphalt makes your rage spike further. How dare this asshole leave your Valentinos behind? He might as well have just left you at the party altogether!

"I'm not driving home with you," you growl.

Mingyu's expression doesn't even budge. "You're not driving. I am."

"Don't try to be fucking smart with me. I'm high, not stupid."

Folding your arms across your chest, you try to pretend that you're not in the middle of the street, arguing with Mingyu as your blood pressure rises to unimaginable heights.

Unfortunately for you, this isn't the first time your friends have left you in the quote-unquote capable hands of your bodyguard. But every time he did, he would always drive whatever car you chose to bring for the occasion and drop you off at your place.

When he brings a car of his own, however...

"You're bringing me straight to the old man," you grumble. "You think he'll appreciate seeing his daughter all wasted at three in the morning? You think he'll be happy with you when he finds out you let me sneak out like this? Are you stupid or do you actually want to get fired?"

"And who told you I was going to bring you to him?" Mingyu shakes his head, letting out a long-winded sigh. "Like I said, I don't want to be here either. The last thing I need is even more overtime after your father sets you straight."

That makes you pause, eyes widening with a hint of mistrust. Mingyu listens to every word his employer says. He's the perfect little lapdog. So perfect that sneaking out for these nightly escapades of yours have grown increasingly difficult with how good he is at finding you and bringing you home.

So hearing him practically say that he won't tattle on you...

"How can I be sure you're not fucking with me? That if I fall asleep in the car, I won't wake up in the courtyard of the old man's stupid mansion?"

"Do I look like I have the energy to deal with both of you at the same time?" he replies sharply, opening the door to the passenger seat with a hint of finality in his actions. "Just get in the fucking car so we can all head to bed before sunrise."

The sound of the house party still in full swing echoes in your ears from the distance. Your skin tingles a little beneath the heat of Mingyu's mildly pissed off gaze, and you let out a shuddering breath to keep yourself from giving the feeling a name.

"Fine."

...

Good news: you made it safely back to your apartment without anyone alerting your father about your true whereabouts.

Bad news: Mingyu just won't fucking leave.

He insisted that you get yourself refreshed with a shower first before he talks to you in the living room. The same guy that right-out said that you should hop in the passenger seat of his car so you'd both be asleep before the sun rises. The clock is already pushing past four in the morning, and Mingyu still insists on lecturing you before he leaves?

You of all people know how obstinate he can be. He's even more stubborn than you are, if you're being completely honest. So even if it wounds your pride to play along with what he has planned, you head back to your living room right after slipping on your usual nightgown—flashing Mingyu a look to remind him you're not at all pleased with whatever bullshit he wants to talk about.

However, your irritation ebbs a little when you see a plate of your favorite cookies sitting on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and a sheet of Advil.

Your gaze drifts from the snacks to your bodyguard, who looks more dressed down than usual. His coat is folded neatly, hanging off one side of your couch, and the first three buttons of his dress shirt are undone.

You gulp, prying your eyes off the sliver of chest he's willingly exposed before seating a respectable distance away.

"What did you want to talk about?" You try to sound casual as you leaned forward, reaching for a cookie and the glass of water without as much initiating eye contact.

"You smoked a few joints at the party, didn't you?"

You take a bite, washing it down with your drink before replying with, "So what if I did? A little kush isn't going to kill anybody, Mingyu."

"We both know 'a little' doesn't exist in your vocabulary, princess," he points out, crossing his arms with an unimpressed look. "Anyway, I'm not your father, so I typically don't care about what drugs you're taste testing every night—"

"Are you implying that you suddenly care now?"

"With a new poisonous marijuana strain circulating in the underground market? Of course I do."

You do a double take on that, staring at him hard as you begrudgingly swallow your cookie, "What? Underground market? And what do you mean poisonous?"

Mingyu lets out another sigh when he leans forward to reach for the box of cigarettes and a lighter you left strewn across your coffee table. You're even more surprised to see him lighting himself a stick and taking a drag than you were when he prepared some snacks and water for you.

"Some Columbian drug cartels thought it would be funny to infiltrate surface-level drug transactions. Long story short, they invented some fucked up strain laced with belladonna and smuggled it into the market under the impression that it's a new sativa strain."

You absolutely have no idea how Mingyu even got ahold of this information, but realizing the implication of his words has your stomach sinking with dread. If what he's saying is true, it's no wonder you were out so fucking quick tonight.

"I'm not gonna die within twenty four hours, right?" you half-joke because, Jesus, you're adventurous with your drugs, but you wouldn't willingly take something that can actually kill you.

To your relief, Mingyu shakes his head. "I don't know the science behind it either, but I was told sativa tones down the poisonous effect of belladonna by a huge margin. The worst you'll experience is a fever and a nasty cough if you don't do anything about it."

"Gee, way to be reassuring."

Mingyu scoffs before taking another drag of his cigarette. Your gaze is riveted on the cut of his jaw as he inhales the smoke with eyes closed. It's only when he flicks the ashes in a small ashtray you left by the small table beside the couch that you realize he's pushed the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows—exposing a good deal of his toned arms.

You immediately take a huge gulp of water, not wanting such unsavory thoughts about an unsavory person to surface now, of all times.

You might be more refreshed after your shower, but if you're starting to ogle Kim Mingyu, the strange joints you've been hitting all night might've messed with your head more than you thought.

"That's why we're going to the doctor tomorrow—"

You scowl. "Like hell I'm going to pay Doctor Yoon a visit. That guy's the biggest tattletale in the world. He'll definitely tell the old man. Oh, and I actually have classes tomorrow if you're forgetting, Mingyu."

"You're pretending to attend those now that it's convenient for you?" He smirks as he breathes out another puff of smoke. "Nice try, princess. But don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'll take you to another doctor I know—someone who won't get us both in trouble by telling your father that you've been smoking bad weed."

"Again, way to be fucking reassuring."

The silence finally settles as you nibble contemplatively on the snacks he brought for you. You're can say for sure that you're most certainly sober now, so Mingyu's words have got you thinking.

But it's a little difficult to think about the state of your health when you've got a sort-of uninvited guest manspreading right next to you on the couch.

"Aren't you going to leave?" you ask. "Just text me what time we're going to visit that doctor friend of yours."

"How would you feel if you got told to scram while you're in the middle of a smoke?" Mingyu flashes you an annoyed look. "For the third time, I don't even want to be here, princess. At least let me have this as compensation for saving your sorry ass."

He's so fucking infuriating.

The rough undercurrent in his voice. The perpetual upward curve of his lips as if he always has the upper hand. His beefy arms. His built chest.

...Not to mention his unexpected thoughtfulness when he decided to stick around and inform you about what you might've gotten yourself into instead of leaving you to fend for yourself. He even brought out your favorite cookies for good measure.

You never really know what to do with Kim fucking Mingyu. He stirs up all sorts of confusing feelings inside your chest at any given time, and frankly, you've had enough of it.

You allow yourself to relish in the pride that swells in your chest when he nearly drops his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray the moment you crawl on top of his lap.

Mingyu's mouth quivers with some sensible words his job description probably requires him to say, but you rob him of his ability to speak when you steal the cancer stick from his fingers. In one long breath, you smoke the cigarette down to the filter—killing it on your ashtray before leaning down to press your lips to his.

With how stunned he is, it doesn't take a lot of effort to pry Mingyu's mouth open, breathing the smoke into his mouth. Once you're satisfied, you pull away with a triumphant smirk.

"Now you're done," you say, making the motions to get off his lap. "I'm heading to bed. Don't wake me up before noon for that doctor's appointment or else I'm going to slash your ti—"

You don't even get to finish that sentence. Mingyu suddenly flips you over so that your back is pressed against the couch and he's lying on top of you—both knees planted on either side of your hips as he gazes at you with an ireful glare.

"W-What are you doing?" you whisper, but in spite of the protesting nature of your words, you can't help but feel a pang of white hot desire shoot straight through you when you feel just how big he is now that his body is pressed against yours.

"Teaching a bad girl a lesson," he whispers, grabbing your face roughly. "You can't just pull off shit like that and expect to walk away from it unscathed, princess."

Fuck. That nickname he always uses never fails to get on your nerves on any other day. But when he sounds like that and has you under him like this...

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you ask.

Mingyu chuckles darkly, as he squishes your face with his big, long fingers. You nearly shudder at the thought of what those digits could do to you if you just pushed the right buttons.

"You'll just have to fuck around and find out."

When the pressure of his strong grip leaves your cheeks, confusion paints your features. Mingyu's weight eases off your pliant body almost immediately as well, leaving you to scowl at him incredulously. He doesn't even look at you as he collects his coat from where it hangs off your couch.

But before he can even think about putting it back on, something not so different from a growl resonates deep in your chest as you sit back up—tugging on the collar of his shirt to smash your lips together.

Mingyu all but groans into the kiss, but you're not sure if you can even call it that. There's nothing but hunger fueling the both of you as your tongue slides alongside his, mapping out each other's mouths like your lives depended on it.

You vaguely hear his coat fall to the floor as Mingyu goes back to crowding you against the couch—one of his strong arms circling your waist as he grinds his hips against your middle. It's nearly embarrassing how willing you are to receive his advances.

You, the same person who told your bodyguard you refused to drive home with him, are now making out with said bodyguard at four in the morning.

But then again, who fucking cares?

"You have no idea," he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you let out a stifled moan when you feel the outline of his erection rut against your clothed pussy, "how much you drive me insane. You're such a fucking handful, you know that?"

"I'm glad to know I make your life miserable," you bite back despite the fact that, when Mingyu brings down the straps of your nightgown to expose your breasts to the cool air, you do nothing about it.

Mingyu lets out a harsh laugh. "You're probably into this, aren't you, princess? You like riling me up so much so that I'd snap and teach you a lesson?"

You want to tell him that he's being fucking full of himself if he thinks you've planned this that far back. But with how massive he feels through his trousers alone, you can't say that you don't want him inside you right this second.

It doesn't help that he's giving your chest a generous amount of attention—suckling at your nipples in a way that has you twitching beneath him with sensitivity.

"So what if I am?" you say, testing the limits of what he'll let you get away with. "You talk big about teaching me a lesson but you're being awfully careful with me. Aren't you going to shove your cock down my throat to get me to shut up?"

Mingyu chuckles with a quick shake of his head, like he isn't even taking your words seriously. You let out a sharp yelp when he bites down on one of your breasts—leaving a distinct imprint of his canines on your skin before staring into your eyes.

"I can choke you with my cock next time, princess. For now, I just want to make you come until you're crying for me."

Fuck.

Mingyu wastes no time. He immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, hauling your hips closer to the edge of the couch so that he can hook your thighs over his shoulders. When he realizes that you're not wearing any underwear underneath your flimsy satin nightgown, you swear the noise he makes is near animalistic.

"Don't get f-fucking cocky," you stammer, nerves alight everywhere his lips graze your inner thighs. "I don't usually wear underwear before going to sleep! This wasn't for you."

"It is now," Mingyu says before licking a long stripe from your leaking hole to your aching clit. He holds your thighs far apart as his lips latch onto that little bundle of nerves, alternating with delicious licks at your sensitive folds.

He practically smothers his face into your cunt as he continues his relentless assault on your clit. By the time Mingyu starts to tease his tongue along your entrance, your fingers have found their way into his unruly hair—moans falling from your lips with little concern about appearances.

Mingyu pulls away for a moment, and you nearly snap at him from that alone until he eases one of those thick fingers into your wet channel—dark eyes trained on you as he stretches you out with a hungry gaze.

You don't even feel any semblance of shame when you start to ride that single digit, wanting to feel him go deeper and spread you wider. Fortunately, your bodyguard is more attentive than you think, and it doesn't take long for him to ease another finger into your needy pussy, curling them just so once he's sure he's found that spot that'll render you an incoherent mess.

The sound he rips out of you is unholy and Mingyu growls again before his mouth finds its way back onto your cunt—getting lost in the taste of you on his tongue.

"Where's the fight you've been putting up against me all this time, princess?" he taunts just before those stupidly thick fingers graze that sensitive patch of flesh inside you again. "Are you that desperate? You've fucked yourself up so much tonight that you couldn't bring anyone back home. Your bodyguard's gonna have to do, huh?"

You know you should be affronted by how offensive his words are. Mingyu might be an expert at getting on your nerves, but with how good his fucking mouth feels as he laves at your cunt like a man starved, you can't even let yourself feel any modicum of annoyance.

"M-Mingyu," you gasp as he suckles on your clit again—steadily building your orgasm from the ground-up. "I'm gonna come, f-fuck!"

Three. Mingyu slides in three fingers at your admission, and you nearly cry with how wide he's stretching you out. This time, he switches from sucking at your clit to rapidly flicking his tongue against the sensitive pearl.

Your toes curl with oversensitivity, thighs nearly crushing his head as you frame the syllables of his name in another wanton moan. When Mingyu curls his fingers inside you one more time, the tension that's been building in your stomach snaps like a rubber band.

Once you teeter off the precarious edge of release, you feel a gush of slick surge out of your cunt and into his awaiting mouth. Mingyu laps it all up—his sinful tongue catching every drop of your tangy essence. If you didn't know better, you would think he's desperate for you as much as you are for him.

It takes a while for your mind to fully come back online after that first orgasm, chest heaving almost painfully with how Mingyu took your breath away with oral alone. When you finally have your wits about you, your bodyguard surges forward so that your faces are levelled, and you nearly groan when you see the way his mouth and chin glisten with your juices.

"So fucking delicious for me," he rasps. "Gonna let me have a taste of this pussy every time now, princess? Want my mouth on you before you sleep?

"Do whatever you want, Gyu," you mewl, tugging him closer as you position yourself horizontally on the couch. "N-Need you so bad."

He sighs, unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt as he drinks in the sight of you all fucked out and compliant because of his mouth and fingers alone. Your lips are parted, eyes glistening with tears or desire—Mingyu can't say for sure just yet.

But if he can get you this wrecked from oral, he can't fucking wait to see what you'll look like after he gets you to cream on his cock.

His shirt falls to the floor and you can't contained the awed gasp that leaves you at the sight of him. He's built like a fucking sculpture—all lean muscle and hard toned abs. It would make sense for Mingyu to be this well-built, being your bodyguard and all, but the thought of having his body pressed against yours as he fucks you into the couch is sending your mind into overdrive.

"You're so adorable," he chuckles, but you know the words are anything but a compliment. "A moment ago you were challenging everything I said and did. Now you're suddenly an agreeable little thing. Are you that cock-hungry, princess? Want something to fill that pretty pussy?"

"Yes." You don't even hesitate. "Yes, yes, yes. Want your cock in me. Want you to fill me up, Gyu. Please..."

Fortunately for you, Mingyu isn't one to tease. The moment you've given him the green light to rearrange your insides, he steps out of his tight trousers and boxers at the same time, pumping his thick cock in one hand as he nudges your thighs apart once again.

You practically salivate at the thought that you're about to take all those delicious inches inside you. Mingyu doesn't miss the starry look on your face, but doesn't take the time to gloat about it. Instead, he leans all the way forward so that your thighs are squished against your chest—easing your legs across his shoulders in a position that's not so different from when he ate you out earlier.

"Gonna fuck the attitude out of you, princess," he promises before pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You ready for me?"

You nod a little too eagerly, forcing his face into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his head. "Gyu, please..."

"Alright. Since you asked so nicely."

He doesn't even give any forewarning when he bottoms out inside you in one languid stroke. A choked up noise gets caught in your chest with how sudden he was, how full you feel in such a short amount of time, but Mingyu doesn't give you any time to think, or even to breathe.

Before you can even get a single word out, he's pulling his hips back—making you feel every inch of his thick cock before slamming his hips forward with a powerful thrust that drives you further into the sofa. You let out a long-winded moan, unable to do anything about it as he pounds into you with the vigor of someone who's been putting up with your shit for a better part of the year.

"Pussy's so fucking tight for me," he growls. "You're squeezing my cock so good, princess. Is this all I had to do so you'd stop driving me crazy? Eat you out a little and dick you down 'til you forget your name?"

You can't even process what he's saying right now—too lost in the sensation of his cockhead grazing your cervix with each forward stroke. He's reaching into you so deep that you might really just forget everything but the letters of Mingyu's name by the time he's done with you.

"M-Mingyu," you drawl dumbly as he peppers your neck with bites and bruises—unrelenting with his deep strokes as your cunt flutters around his length. "Fuck. L-Love your cock so much—oh!"

You let out a gasp that Mingyu quickly muffles with his own mouth as he adjusts your positions on the sofa—easing your legs off of his shoulders in exchange for spreading them wider on the cushions. How he manages to do that without his cock slipping out of you is a testament to your flexibility, and he's already cooking up what he'll do about that information for next time.

Mingyu continues kissing you all while he plants one foot on the couch and the other on the floor. When he tugs your hips even closer it's only then that you realize that the lunatic has you in a mating press.

"How long have you been thinking about me fucking you like this?" he whispers, deciding to drag it out with slow, deep thrusts that only serve to frustrate you. "You wouldn't have let me go this far if you hadn't thought about it at least once, princess."

I've wanted to fuck you since the old man introduced us, is the correct answer but you've still got some shred of dignity. If Mingyu wants the truth, he's going to have to work for it.

"Fuck me again after this, and I might give you an answer," you rasp, meeting his lazy thrusts with some of your own to get the point that you want him to ram into you across.

"There she is," Mingyu laughs. "My nasty, sharp-tongued princess. Thought I lost you for a sec."

"You will if you don't fuck me until I black out."

"Oh? All you had to do was ask, you know."

Then and there, Mingyu makes good of that interesting position he'd unknowingly lured you into—plunging that fat cock even deeper into your pussy if that's even possible. It felt heavenly, taking all of him while your legs dangled off his shoulders, but there's just something about having your legs spread impossibly wide as he drills into you with the full intention of making you come until you're crying that does it for you.

As each second passes, Mingyu's thrusts become more erratic—hips snapping with hard, calculated strokes so fucking good that tears are starting to glisten along the lines of your lashes like he promised.

You mewl his name like a string of prayers as the sound of your cunt squelching with every thrust rings in your ears. It's insane how close he's driven you to the edge in the span of thirty minutes, and you're starting to grow fearful of how addicting it feels to have him inside you like this.

At this point, you'd rather get off on Mingyu's cock than get high from some shady sativa joint. Something tells you he'd rather have that, too.

"Where do you want me, princess?" he whispers into your ear, reaching between your legs to give you just the right pressure you've been missing on your clit. You have to bite back a sob when he presses his thumb against it.

"Inside," you whimper as he continues plunging his engorged length into you. "Fill me with your cum, please, Gyu. I want it—want it so bad."

Mingyu hisses when you clench around his cock, large hands undoubtedly about to leave bruises on your thighs come morning. When you hear that deep, sexy laugh in your ear, you know it's all over for you.

"Come on my cock first, princess. Then I'll give you what you want."

He punctuates the words by drawing quick, tight circles on your clit all while keeping up the cadence of his thrusts. With the steady stream of stimulation he's so willing to give, it's a no-brainer for another orgasm to blindside you yet again.

You cry out with bliss as you screw your eyes shut—tears running down your cheeks in cascades as you fall apart on Mingyu's cock. He fucks into you despite the overstimulation, his own high not far behind because of the expression you're showing him.

"That's it," he rasps, leaning down to kiss the tears away. "Fucking cry for me, princess."

You're not sure if you're just too blissed out to comprehend it properly, but you're pretty sure that Mingyu just triggered another orgasm from you when you feel him twitch inside—your tight channel being covered in his white hot emission.

It doesn't help that your insatiable lover continues to fuck his cum deeper into your abused cunt, taking full advantage of this position while he can.

"M-Mingyu," you beg, fingers raking across his back as he punches the breath out of your lungs. "Too much. T-Too much."

You thought he wouldn't heed your words, but surprisingly, Mingyu halts every movement to gaze at you with a hint of concern lining his gaze. Wordlessly, he eases himself out of your sore cunt, wiping the tears off your eyes before pressing a kiss on your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs before gently fixing the straps of your nightgown. He even tugs the hem down despite the fact that his cum is currently leaking out of you. "You want me to tuck you in?"

You nod, lacing your fingers around his neck, the overstimulated mess you are. Mingyu breathes out a quiet laugh before carrying you into his arms again.

"Alright, princess. Let's get you to bed."

You don't have the heart nor the energy to protest. Besides, it's his job to take care of you, after all.

⟢ end notes: reminder to not take any of the medical indications abt drugs that i included in this fic seriously. i made all of those up. oh and this should go w/o saying but don't fuck anyone while under the influence of anything AT ALL !!!

that aside, happy birthday to everyone's favorite puppy boy mingyu! i ended up loving him a lot more as i stanned svt, and i hope everyone else gives him the same love as well! god knows he has lots to give to both his members and his fans ueueue

++ if you spotted a few errors here and there, please don't tell me or i'll die of embarrassment ^_^ this wasn't proofread bcs i wanted to drop this exactly on his bday (i am 1 hour and 34 mins late!) HEHEHE i was sposed to write an ending scene in the morning where gyu wakes up and sees her wearing his shirt while making breakfast but that'll make this too long :| i'll just leave that to ur imagination!

#seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu #svt smut #svt fanfic #lovelyhan #🎲 ask games #full length fic 📚#💭 request

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drunktuesdays · 8 months

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i (bisexual) went on a roadtrip with friends (2 women married to each other) and went up through canada to see paul gross do lear (he ruled). and before the show, we went to dinner with a friend who was ALSO going to king lear. she brought her wife, and the five of us were a little giddy with the joy of being on vacation to do something silly, but also the delight of seeing someone you hadn't seen in ten years. and we got to talking about fandoms past, and this friend mentioned that she met her wife in smallville fandom, because they both found tom welling attractive. which is so funny for tom welling's attractiveness to be a solid rock to build a lasting relationship on, but it could be worse. anyway, so right after she says that, a table of octogenarians next to us get up and ostentatiously move across the pub to the other side. and we notice this but don't quite understand, until five different wait staff come over to be like "y'all being so rowdy, you're chasing people away?" in a very friendly teasing way that makes it clear we're fine. and we're laughing because it's like, sorry, was that tom wellings's grandparents? those people are so fucking disgusted because we were mocking the idea of being attracted to tom welling? "he's too conventionally pretty. a try-hard," we imagined them saying disgustedly to each other. and then my friend's wife gently was like "i sort of think it was probably the part where two women fell in love," and we were stunned. it's like the table of queer people got so caught up in the comedy of hating tom welling that for a minute, we straight up forgot homophobia exists.

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selfindulgentfandomstuff · 8 days

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How about some positivity to combat all the bullshit stuff happening in my (and probably everyone else’s) life right now?

(Also I don’t really know how to make this all aesthetic and stuff but I think it does not matter bc I don’t wanna detract from my point anyways!!)

SHOUTOUT TO ALL THE SELFSHIPPERS WHO FEEL UNDERAPPRECIATED AND OVERLOOKED!!!

SHOUTOUT TO…

- selfshippers of color (ESPECIALLY black selfshippers, you shouldn’t have to put up with all the bullshit you have to deal with in the selfship community and other fandom spaces and your f/os would NOT stand for it, they would absolutely call anyone out on their racism)!!!

- mixed selfshippers of color as well (your f/os would love learning about all aspects of your heritage)!!

- transmasc selfshippers!!

- transfem selfshippers !!! (You gals also deal with so much bullshit and I want so much better for you and so do your f/os, they will ALWAYS hype you up for being the beautiful woman you are!)

- gay selfshippers!!!

- lesbian selfshippers !!

- bisexual, pansexual and other m-spec selfshipper s!!

- asexual, aromantic and aroace spectrum selfshippers !!!

- intersex selfshippers !!! (I see so little rep for you guys, I hope we can change that!! Your f/os would never ask you invasive questions without your consent and they would always support you against anyone who was weird to you about being intersex!)

- selfshippers whose f/os ‘don’t match’ their real life orientation (your real life identity is NOT invalidated by your attraction to fictional characters)!!

- queer selfshippers who don’t feel like typical and conventional labels fit for them!!

- physically disabled selfshippers!!!

- neurodivergent selfshippers (especially cluster B folks, the hatred I see directed at you is just awful and I desperately want people to stop acting like your flavor of neurodivergence has any effect on your morality. Your f/os wants to learn as much as your willing to share about your neurodivergent self and how to better accommodate you) !!

- selfshippers with intellectual disabilities !!

- selfshippers who don’t feel included in American and Eurocentric imagines, be they about physical features, seasons or cultural aspects!!!

- selfshippers who are ‘older’ (you are NEVER too old to selfship, it makes me so happy to see selfshippers past their 30s bc it reassures me that could be me!) !!

- selfshippers with fem f/os (so few imagines centered around fem f/os.. we need to change that)!!!

- fat selfshippers!!

- selfshippers with not ‘conventionally attractive’ features like acne, moles, stretch marks, self harm scars, etc (these are NOT ugly features but even if they were, you are still a person deserving of respect and kindness)!!!

- tall selfshippers who don’t feel included in most self insert imagines where the f/o is taller than the reader insert!!

- PLEASE PLEASE ADD MORE IN THE REBLOGS!!! If I forgot and didn’t include you or someone you care about, please reblog with that addition!! I want to see ALL of the amazing people the selfship community is comprised of!!!

PROSHIP/COMSHIP/‘NEUTRAL’ DNI

#selfship #selfshipping #selfship positivity #selfshipping positivity #self ship #self ship positivity #selfship community #selfshipping community #self ship community #f/o community #I dearly hope I didn’t make anyone feel excluded if I did I promise it was not my intention!! I just am very mentally disorganized lately :

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lyrichi · 1 month

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Imagine being mc, and you're just chilling in your kitchen cause you live alone. You're in your i-woke-up-to-be-here fit, glasses off and retainers out, hair out of the way messily yet conveniently. And you're just standing in the middle of your kitchen, small pot in your left hand and a wood spoon in your right.

Eating some pasta quietly with the same utensils you used to make the pasta so you didn't have to wash more dishes by putting it in a bowl and getting a fork. Then suddenly you're teleported somewhere that isn't your bland apartment kitchen with buzzing white lights above you. It takes you a minute to realise that anything has happened, shoveling your tasty homemade pasta into your mouth with a wooden spoon.

You look up, making eye contact with some dude with his arms crossed, his hair short and black, and standing about half a foot taller than you. At least that was what you could make out through blurry vision. Pasta strands hanging from your mouth, you eat them quickly while staring directly at this man whom you find conventionally attractive despite just meeting him, if you would even call this a meeting.

Your voice somewhat hoarse from not talking for about two and a half days and from eating off of a wooden spoon, you speak in a tone that is almost sarcastic, yet is questioning. You sound neutral, being caught like a deer in headlights in your most nobody's-gonna-see-me state.

"Who the fuck're you?" You'd say, blinking a few times and having to force your eyes to adjust to the shift in lighting that you had only now noticed, and your voice slightly muffled from the pasta sauce stuck to the roof of your mouth. Your organs rolling like a rotisserie chicken in confusion, almost making your stomach hurt.

You settle your right hand, loosely placing the wooden spoon into the pot, it being about half full of hot-n-ready pasta. Your left wrist feels sore from holding up the pot, but in your delayed confusion you barely feel it, doing mental gymnastics in order to figure out where the fuck you had ended up.

You just wanted some pasta. Now where were you?

#lol I CANNOT sleep #cooking omgg #not really it's deadass 3:43 am #love insomnia sm omGG #yeah ok #here you go #oh also just cause I suck at writing inserts #mc description is loosely based on myself #lol #okay #obey me shall we date #obey me shitpost #obey me #obey me crack #obey me mc

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egot1stical · 7 months

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ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes

Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities

Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:

* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses

* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.

* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs

* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed

* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like. Wow! You're not Simon!

* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.

Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.

Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane

The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.

Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now

Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again

also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?

Anyway

The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.

CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.

That’s all I got

#winter king #simon petrikov #ice king #fionna and cake

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Hello, I think there is a big lack of Crewel content soo could I have some dating/courting hcs of him please? Thank you!

(a lot of this is self indulgent, what I would want from him, because you are right we don't have enough content from this man)

A/N: It's in my pinned post, and I've mentioned this in a couple posts, but if this is the first of my stuff you've read, I view NRC as an actual college, so reader here is 18+. If it makes you more comfy, imagine it as grad school age.

He's a professional. He knows he shouldn't date a student. No matter how hot, or smart, or fun he finds you, he stays professional. He doesn't want it to inadvertently be easier or harder for you to pass his class.

And like a true professional….he waits until your second year at NRC, when you are no longer taking his classes, to start pursuing you.

He considers himself a smooth individual, but when he gets you a coffee on the first day of class, he's like

"Do you like me? Shoot, I meant do you like coffee? I misspoke."

With visible confusion in your eyes, you tell him you do like coffee, and he shoved the coffee in your hands and left with a muttered, "have a good day puppy"

But he's nothing If not a go getter, so he brushes it off, and brings you a coffee everyday. He has no more slip ups, but he does get nervous you're complacent in your relationship with him. Which is fine but…he likes you a lot. And he's known for being the most hot headed amongst the staff for a reason.

"Be yourself" Trein says in exasperation. "Bet," Divus says.

"I need a new model, for when I'm working during the school year. It used to be Vil, but as you know, his internship took him far away."

"I'm honored, but I wouldn't consider myself conventionally attractive," you said with a self conscious laugh.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before abruptly smacking his pointer down on the table.

"Bad pup. Clearly I need to teach my new show dog some self confidence."

"But…"

"Be in my office on Saturday." Obviously, he couldn't threaten you to be there, but he could imply a threat in the way he said it.

He does measurements the first week, feeling excited as a school boy from being so close to you. When he measures your waist, he wants to throw away all pretenses and wrap you in his arms. But he has restraint. He can wait.

Soon he's spending hours sewing you outfits he hopes will make you feel beautiful. Part of the problem is, he already sees you as beautiful, so it's hard to tell if any particular outfit will work.

It takes until outfit three. When he puts his hands on your shoulders and maneuvers you to look in the mirror, on the pretense that he wants your opinion on makeup styles, you start staring at yourself in awe.

"I'm beautiful."

"You've always been beautiful," he can't restrain himself as he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. You look at him standing behind you, in shock.

"What?"

"I thought I taught you better. Observation is key."

"That's specifically in potions though…"

He's groaning and rolling his eyes.

"How clear do I have to be?"

Things are a little awkward after that. He does your makeup, and you both sit in silence. He uses his thumb to smudge off some excess eyeliner and feels your cheeks burning under his finger. And he can't help the smirk on his face. Your eyes meet his and you are leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Once you start dating, he continues to bring you coffee everyday, but he also brings you a lot of gifts. Usually something you can wear. His favorite gift he has given you is a crimson choker, with a shimmering medallion. He likes it for normal reasons.

He likes when you sit next to him in his office, after lesson hours. You can work on classwork, and he can work on his grading and paperwork. Personally, he prefers the days you have no homework, because then you can sit on his lap while he does his paperwork, and he can be surrounded by your scent.

You're still his model. He insists that you are exactly what he's looking for in his new fashion line. You're skeptical, at first, because you are vaguely certain it was all a ploy to ask you out. But lo and behold, he releases the line three months later, and you have to eat your words. (Obviously it's a bestseller. The critics are calling it his most inspired line yet)

You don't live in Ramshackle anymore. He won't stand for it. You live in his penthouse apartment with him and his three dalmatians. Grim can move in with you if that's what you really want 😒 but he can't sleep in the bed with you guys. He'll have to stay in his own room. He's not good at sharing your snuggles, especially with a cat.

He loves to hold you in his arms. Not like a little spoon, but where he is slightly propped up, and you rest your head on his chest, snuggling into it as much as possible, while he wraps his arms around you. If you move, he whines a little. No moving. It's cuddle time!

He likes to take you to fancy expensive restaurants. He dresses you both up so you outshine the stars, then treats you to anything on the menu. He takes you on these date nights once a week.

You share your bed with his three dalmatians. They get attached to you very quickly, and it makes Divus jealous when they snuggle up to you, and shove him out of the bed at night. It's an accident, but he's still very pouty about it. Tbh, having to share a side of the bed is how he found his favorite snuggle position with you.

When he's feeling jealous or self conscious, he gives you one of his coats to wear for the day. He knows they're your friends, but sometimes Ace, Deuce, and even Jack sometimes, get a little handsy. So he'll slip the coat on you, and give you a soft kiss, pretending he was concerned that you might get too cold.

He likes to dress you in the morning. Partially, because he knows what you like to wear, partially because he's a fashion designer, but mostly because….

He buttoned up your shirt, and kissed your collarbone before buttoning the final button.

"You're beautiful…" he whispered.

He wrapped the ribbon that went with the shirt around your waist. He kissed your neck, and swayed from side to side as he whispered in your ear.

"You're radiant…"

He brushed his fingers through your hair in a final touch up of the style he finished for you a moment earlier.

"I adore you."

He doesn't expect much in return from you, romance wise. He knows you're a student, and that you don't have any money to your name, as you don't even belong to this world, so he knows not to expect presents. He knows you're busy, as his fellow faculty is rigorous with homework, and your friends are fools, so he's not expecting extra favors from you. All he wants from you is your eyes on him, and your beautiful voice wishing him a good morning when you wake up next to him

....

Found my tag list! So if you want to be added to a specific fandom/character tag list, let me know!

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @eccedentesiast-sapphic

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #divus crewel x reader #twst divus #twisted wonderland divus #divus crewel #twst crewel #crewel x reader #professor crewel #divus x reader

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whereserpentswalk · 4 months

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Imagine in a world where humans have developed the technology to completely change aspects of our body at will how differently we'd think about ourselves. Like, how diffrent would society be if we just had character customization.

How certain jobs could exploit that. Like if you were poor enough to have to work the type of job that has a uniform, your hair, eye and skin color might have to also be corporate freindly. How being free to look like yourself might become a class privilege.

Or how people with the freedom to look how they want would take it. How people's appearances would completely be based on their internal desires.

There might be an old woman who decides to look exactly how she did when she was young, the spitting image of a twenty something from generations ago. Her wife however decided to age normally, so now most people think they have a massive age gap even though they were born the same year.

There's a guy who chose to look like a cute girl for the same reason he plays female characters in video games. He still uses male pronouns though, and despite being female in every other way he kept his old voice because that feels like part of his identity.

There's someone who pushed the technology to its limits, making themself look like something entirely alien to what we think of as human. Something with pure white skin, and black eyes, and fangs, and spikes all over their body, but they're still just a normal person, the same way someone convered in tattoos is just a normal person.

There's someone who decided to get rid of any secondary sexual characteristics (basically reversing puberty while staying an adult) because she wants to take a break from sex. But after awhile that just becomes part of who she is, and without her old hormones she doesn't really find sex appealing.

There's someone who changes his eye color every week for the same reason someone else might dye their hair new colors constantly. And he's never wanted to change in any other way despite not being conventionally attractive.

That's just how people are I think.

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munsonsmixtapes · 23 days

Text

Lost Number pt. 2

Summary: continuation of Lost Number pt. 1

Here’s part 1 if you missed it!

Word count: 17,228

CW: making out, hair pulling, tooth rotting fluff, let me know if there’s anything else!

Halloween Party, Brooklyn, 1991

You hadn’t seen Eddie in over a year. You hated that you were still upset about it, but you were. You told him not to be a stranger and he said some of the nicest things you ever heard, promising that he would see you again only for you to never get a call or even a single fucking beep. Sure, you had only spent that one night together, but you thought that you meant more to him than that. Maybe that was his thing, pulling people in with his sweet words and loving touches just to get what he wanted and kick them to the curb after he was done.

It didn’t matter anyway. You were doing pretty well for yourself after your break up with Chris. You had gotten a nice job as a makeup artist, you moved into an apartment with some friends you made, and you had even gotten yourself a therapist and were finding it very helpful. You were living your best life if you were being honest.

Your friends had dragged you to a Halloween party which you were actually excited for with Halloween being your favorite holiday and all. You loved dressing up and being a different person for a change. The mother of the group, Sheila, had decided that all four of you were going to go as vampires. Sexy vampires to be specific. You had bought the sexiest outfit you could find, hoping that it would help you be able to take someone home. You just had to get over Eddie as much as it hurt to move on.

You had been there for what felt like hours and honestly couldn’t wait to go home. None of the men there had been your type in the slightest. They were all frat bros and had made it very clear that none of them were interested in you. Of course they weren’t. That would have meant that they actually had to be considerate and they were far from it.

You sipped on your punch that definitely had too much alcohol in it and debated on calling a cab to take you home. Your friends were having fun because of course they were. They were all conventionally attractive and somehow knew the magic words to get men into bed. The words that you somehow had no idea about. You weren’t insecure about your body in the slightest, but moments like that really made you realize just how much people who looked like you were discriminated against.

You looked around the room one more time and your eyes widened as they locked on the familiar head of curly hair. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t be. He was on tour (you definitely hadn’t looked him up.) and their next stop was…New York. Fuck, it really was him. There, in the flesh and not a figment of your drunken imagination. His face lit up at the sight of you and you were quick to move to the kitchen, hoping he would get the hint that you didn’t want to see him.

He followed after you, somehow meeting you in the kitchen, the two of you getting there at the same time despite him having been all the way across the living room. You looked at him as he stood across the island, his hands resting against it. He looked good. Too good, almost. He had dark eyeshadow around his eyes and a dark grey color contoured his cheeks. He also had a little red line trickling down from his mouth and a pair of white fangs hung from his teeth. He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt with long ruffles that stopped at his chest with a dark red vest over it. He looked so fucking good and if you had still been in contact with him, you would have taken him to the nearest empty room and had your way with him.

“Sweetheart!” He called out, rounding the island to pull you into a hug. You put your hand out to stop him, a disgusted look making its way upon your face. How could he act like that when he hadn’t bothered to call you or even message you after all this time? Maybe all rockstars were just too good to be true.

“Don’t talk to me,” you spit and Eddie stepped back, surprised by the tone of your voice. He honestly thought you’d be happy to see him, but apparently he had missed something. Typical Eddie, always out of the loop.

“Angel, what’s-“

“Don’t call me that,” you pointed at him. “You don’t have the right to after you ignored me for over a year.” Ignored you? He hadn’t done anything of the sort. In fact, he had thought about you every day since he let you take his car. You had taken up every space of his brain and it was killing him that he had no way of contacting you.

“I didn’t-“ he cut himself off, trying to gather his thoughts. “I didn’t ignore you. I lost your number.”

“How’d you do that?” You put your hands on your hips, anger very evident on your face. He hated that he found you so hot in that moment. He was always admiring how attractive you were at inappropriate times, it seemed.

“It smudged when we…you know. I guess eyeliner wasn’t the best writing utensil.” He couldn’t believe that you would actually believe that he would just not call you when he promised that he would. He had every intention of doing so when he got back to his room. He had grabbed the phone, all giddy and his face fell when he realized that eyeliner had completely disappeared. He should have written it down when he had a chance.

“I guess not,” you shrugged, not even sure why you were still talking to him.

“You really believe I wouldn’t have called you if I could have?” You honestly didn’t know what to believe. You didn’t even know him so who were you to think that he was sweet just because that was the side of himself he decided to show you? You were convinced that it had been one of his tricks.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, I would’ve. I would’ve called you every day. I wanted to. I haven’t stopped thinking about you. You have to know that.” He was actually telling the truth. There wasn’t a moment that passed where he wasn’t thinking about you and what you were doing. Not a moment where he wasn’t thinking about how much he fucking missed you. It was actually getting kind of pathetic.

“I don’t know anything, actually. I know nothing about you, Eddie. You could be lying to me for all I know.” He could have been, but he wasn’t. Eddie may have been many things, but he definitely wasn’t a liar. When he said something, he meant it.

“But I’m not,” he licked his lips, stepping closer to you. You only stepped back, keeping space between the two of you. “Can we talk,” he looked around the house for a moment before turning back to you. “Alone?”

“Why would you think that I’d go anywhere with you? Why don’t you call one of your groupies to talk to you? I’m sure they’d be glad to.” With that, you turned on your heel and fled the kitchen to find your friends. You couldn’t hear another word of his bullshit. He could try that on someone else, but you definitely weren’t going to fall for it.

“(Y/n),” he called after you. “(Y/n)!” He yelled over the loud music, hoping that you could hear him. Just when he thought he lost you, you whipped around to face him, anger very evident on your face.

“Get fucked, Munson.” A beat passed before you spoke again. “Or I guess you already have. Multiple times.”

“Angel,” he reached for your hand, but you snatched it away. “I haven’t slept with anyone since that night.” He really thought you were going to believe that? Maybe a few years ago you have fallen for it, but you were a different woman now.

“Do you think I’m a fucking idiot?” Clearly he did if he thought you were going to believe something like that. “You expect me to believe that you haven’t slept with anyone in over a year? Bullshit.”

“(Y/n), I’m not joking. If you don’t believe me, ask Gareth.” Why would you have believed a complete stranger? Especially a friend of Eddie’s? He was clearly biased so there was no point in even asking.

“I don’t need to because I don’t care, Eddie. Go and fuck whoever you want. I’m over you.” You turned your back to him again and this time he let you go, watching you walk away from him, knowing that you’ll probably never want to see him again.

You found your friends who were all on the couch and Elodie offered you a shot which you gladly downed, trying to not watch Eddie out of the corner of your eye. You wanted to believe him but you just couldn’t. You really wanted to hear his voice. You wanted to talk to him about your day and laugh with him until the early morning.

You turned back to your friends when you knew he was looking and they all were giggling about something. What, you didn’t know. You laughed along, just wanting to be included. You really needed to get out of your head.

“Let’s dance,” Hannah suggested, grabbing your hands and pulling you from the couch. “You’re too hot to be pouty tonight.”

“You guys,” Sheila pulled the three of you into a circle. “I swear I saw Eddie Munson in the foyer.”

“What the fuck,” Elodie replied, her mouth agape. “Are you serious?”

“I mean I haven’t had that many drinks, so I think so.” You hadn’t told your friends that you had slept with Eddie. You knew that they wouldn’t have believed you so you kept quiet about it. When they had initially asked you what was wrong you had only told them about Chris and they helped you through it. There was no fucking way that you were ever going to tell them about Eddie. It was your little secret and you were taking that shit to your grave.

The other two girls turned to look and you couldn’t help but think about how obvious they were. Eddie caught sight of them and gave them a little wave before turning back to the person he was talking to. They all let out little squeals and the four of you headed to the makeshift dance floor.

You caught sight of Eddie yet again and he couldn’t keep his eyes off you so you decided to have some fun. You were moving in a way that you didn’t usually, but you were trying to…you didn’t actually know what you were trying to do. You were just trying to rub salt in the wound. Showing Eddie exactly what he was missing. You were going to make him regret ever hurting you.

You ran your hands all along your body, closing your eyes as you did so. Images of Eddie’s hands on you flashed in your head. You remembered exactly what they felt like, rough in feeling but gentle in action. He had been so caring and sweet. What happened?

Just as he was getting interested in watching you, you turned to your friends and danced with them, Eddie completely forgotten. He couldn’t see you anymore from where he was standing and leaned over, trying to get a better look at you. You just looked so fucking hot with your red corset that showed off your cleavage nicely and your skirt that had a slit on each side that gave him a great view of your thighs that he personally thought was your best asset.

“I think someone’s interested in you, (y/n),” Hannah pointed behind you and you didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You did anyway to humor them and Eddie gave you a wink when your eyes met his.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed and hoped that you were convincing enough. You be damned if Eddie actually thought you’d give him another chance. Or even if one of your friends went after him. You couldn’t let that happen. They were all too good for him.

“He won’t stop looking at you,” Elodie added. “You should go talk to him.”

“No way,” you shook your head. You were nothing if not stubborn.

“C’mon. You only get one chance to fuck a rockstar.” She was right, but you had already been there, done that. Well, sort of. You even still had the t-shirt that Eddie had insisted that you keep buried in the back of your closet. You couldn’t get yourself to get rid of it despite the fact that you had convinced yourself that you hated him. You didn’t think you could’ve hated him if you tried. You were just hurt.

“That’s true,” you nodded. “But I don’t think I’m his type.” That couldn’t have been the furthest from the truth. In fact, at that point, Eddie would have considered you the only person to be his type. He wanted just you and that was it. He supposed now that he was just going to end up alone.

“His type is anyone hot and you definitely are so get your ass over there and give him your number.” Technically it wasn’t your phone; the four of you shared it.

“Yeah,” you laughed. “Not happening.” He already had a chance to call you so you didn’t think he deserved another. That ship had sailed a long time ago.

“You’re never shy, (y/n). Does Eddie intimidate you?” Elodie teased, nudging your shoulder with hers.

“No, he-“ you almost told them the real reason why you didn’t want to talk to him, but thankfully Hannah cut you off before you could.

“Fine, then I’m gonna go talk to him for myself.” Hannah pulled her corset down a bit to show off some more cleavage before heading over to the singer. Your blood ran hot as you felt jealousy rise in your body as you watched one of your best friends with the man you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for over a year.

Eddie watched Hannah approach him and he really hoped that she wasn’t going to hit on him, especially in front of you. He wanted you to know that he was into you and only you.

“Hi,” he greeted and he let out a breath, noticing that she wasn’t acting flirty in the slightest. He always felt bad letting people down when he wasn’t interested.

“Hi,” he nodded awkwardly. What was the protocol for talking to a girl who you weren’t interested in? That was usually the only reason why he even talked to most people at things like that. But since he was set on not taking her home, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“So, my friend (y/n) is a little shy,” she nodded her head towards you. Hannah didn’t miss that Eddie’s eyes lit up at that. “And she wanted me to give you her number.”

“Oh,” he tried his best to be nonchalant but didn’t think he was that convincing. “Sure.” Hannah grabbed a napkin from the table behind him and scribbled down the phone number and your name and handed it to him.

“Cool, thanks,” he nodded. “You’re a good friend.”

“I know,” she nodded before heading back over to you and the other girls. Eddie tried his very best not to scream as loud as he could in excitement that he had finally gotten your number on something that he couldn’t lose so easily. That he wouldn’t be making the same mistake. He couldn’t lose you twice. He really couldn’t.

You watched Hannah and Eddie’s interaction and hated that you wished it had been you. Your blood was hot and jealously was rushing through you. You hated that you were jealous of seeing her with him. You were over him. At least that was what you were telling yourself.

“So it looks like you were successful,” you spoke up, your tone a little too bitter for your liking. You were never very good at hiding your jealousy.

“Oh, I was,” Hannah winked at you. “Very.” You didn’t know what she was winking at your for, but whatever the reason was beginning to piss you off.

“Good for you, Han. Hey, we should take a picture, you know, to remember this night,” Sheila suggested. There was nothing about that night that you wanted to remember. Your one night stand from over a year ago showed up out of nowhere and now one of your best friends had given him her (technically yours too) number and now he was going to call and ask for her and there was a chance that you were going to pick up. Maybe you’d avoid being at home for long periods of time, at least for a little bit.

“Yeah,” Elodie nodded enthusiastically.

“I’m down,” Hannah agreed.

“(Y/n?)” Sheila asked as the three turned to you for approval.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Sure.” You really weren’t in the mood for a picture but you just couldn’t say no to the girls, especially when they had done so much for you, the big one being letting you live with them.

“Fantastic!” Sheila pulled her Polaroid camera out of her purse. She was always bringing that thing everywhere and was always able to get some great pictures that captured some of your best memories that hung on the fridge in the apartment you all shared.

“Hey,” Elodie spoke up. “You should have Eddie take it,” she turned to Hannah. Hannah was going to protest, but Sheila spoke before she could.

“That’s a great idea! Imagine having a Polaroid taken by the Eddie Munson!” Sheila squealed. She didn’t listen to metal music like the rest of you but she did think Eddie was hot and you didn’t think you could fault her for that since she was right.

Hannah made eye contact with the singer and waved him over. He made a beeline for her and you felt the urge to fake a stomach ache so you could get the fuck out of there. It was too painful to watch them.

“Eds, can you take a photo of us?” They were using nicknames, now? That was what you had called him and now she was using the name like it was second nature. God, you were going to be sick.

“Yeah, sure.” Sheila handed him her camera then stood next to you and you wrapped an arm around her and Elodie while Hannah stood to Sheila’s left. Eddie set up the camera and took the picture. The five of you watched it print from the top of the camera and Eddie set it down on the coffee table that was beside him so it could develop.

“Thank you so much,” Sheila thanked him. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” he shook his head, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his hands.

“Would you be able to take a picture with us? If that’s alright.”

“I’d be honored,” he smiled, showing her his teeth. How could you be mad at him when he just looked so fucking cute? Fuck his stupid smile and his stupid curly hair, and his stupid pretty brown eyes. You hated that after all this time you were having to stay strong. He was just such a nice guy and you knew that what had happened with your phone number was mostly your fault for using eyeliner on his hand instead of a pen on a napkin or paper. But being mad at him made it feel like more his fault than yours and you didn’t want to take the blame. But you also didn’t like blaming him for something that wasn’t his fault. Maybe you were just afraid of getting close to him because of your history with Chris. Eddie wasn’t like Chris in the slightest and deep down you knew that. But Chris had been the same way before that switch flipped so this was just your way of protecting yourself.

“Great. You can stand between Hannah and (y/n).” Just your fucking luck. Eddie passed the camera off to Gareth who just so happened to be next to him and Eddie stood between Hannah and you just like Sheila had told him to. His arms went around both yours and Hannah’s waist and he turned to you to gauge your reaction before snaking his arm around your waist as well. You could feel like his eyes on you as you reluctantly smiled for the picture even though there was nothing to smile about.

Gareth snapped the picture and you all waited for it to print. Eddie set it next to the other one that had fully developed and Sheila was quick to grab it and show it to the rest of you.

“We all look so hot,” Elodie commented. “This is definitely fridge material.” Of course it was. Every single picture that you had ever taken together had been deemed refrigerator material.

“Agree,” Hannah added with a nod.

“I think Eddie’s just really good at taking pictures,” Sheila looked over at him. His face heated up at her compliment and you didn’t miss the flirty tone in Sheila’s voice. She handed the Polaroid to him and he looked at it longer than he probably should have. His eyes were only on you as he stared down on it. Goddamn did you look good. All of your friends were pretty but he definitely thought that you overshadowed them. He thought you stood out, like there was a spotlight shining down at you at all times. You were his siren and he didn’t mind being lured to his death.

“That’s really nice,” he said, handing the photo back to Sheila.

“Thank you. It helps that we’re all really hot. Especially (y/n), which you already knew.” Eddie’s cheeks were now a bright shade of pink and so were yours. Your friends loved to embarrass you the first chance they got.

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded. “Can’t take my eyes off her.” You eyed him and didn’t miss the smirk on his lips. The lips you could still recall the taste of. They were smoky because of all the cigarettes but also sweet for some reason you couldn’t figure out. But you liked it even though you despised the smell and taste of tobacco. You liked it because it was him.

“Oh, we know,” Elodie responded. “And we totally don’t blame you. (Y/n) is a total knockout.” Your cheeks were now burning and you were hoping that they would all shut up. They were just trying to gas you up in front of Eddie, laying it all in a little too thick.

“You’re definitely right about that.”

“I think the Polaroid’s ready if you guys want to take a look.” Sheila picked the picture up from the coffee table and you all crowded around it to get a glimpse. It got passed around the group, everyone commenting on how good it was and eventually got to you. Your eyes immediately went to Eddie and noticed that he had been looking at you in the photo. If anyone saw the picture, they would have thought that he was convinced that you had hung the moon with the way he was looking at you. You were beginning to think that maybe he was telling the truth. Even if he was, he’d have to try harder than his flirty game.

You handed the photo back to Sheila and headed back to the kitchen to get a drink. To your surprise, Eddie stayed put, only giving you a longing glance when you looked back at him as if he was begging you to ask if to come along. You weren’t going to give in that easily.

You poured yourself some vodka and decided to pour another cup for Eddie before you could stop yourself. Maybe you were being a little harsh. Maybe you should have heard him out. Maybe it wasn’t too late and you could reverse the damage that you had created earlier in the night.

“Hey, (l/n),” you heard that familiar voice behind you and you didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Derek had been trying to get into your pants for months now and that night, you were very close to just letting him have his way with you just to get it over with. “Looking very slutty tonight.” You rolled your eyes at his comment, knowing that he definitely thought it was a compliment when it very much was not. You turned to him and gave him a glare and he eyed the cups you were holding.

“Who’s that for?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You should have told him that it was actually for Eddie and that he should get lost. You should have, but you didn’t.

“You,” you handed him the cup and he took a sip, not even fazed at the fact that he was drinking straight vodka.

“Thanks, kitten,” he winked before taking another sip. “That’s real sweet of you.”

“No problem.” You looked at his ridiculous Terminator costume he was wearing. It was only ridiculous because he hadn’t seen either movie; you had heard him tell one of the other partygoers earlier in the night. Guys like him usually weren’t your type, all ripped and tall. You liked guys who were skinny and scrawny and were quick witted with curly hair and brown eyes. You liked Eddie, but you had fucked everything up with him so you were going to settle for fucking Derek.

You grabbed Derek by the back of his neck and roughly pressed your lips to his. Your cups were abandoned on the kitchen island and his hands found your hips while yours wound their way into his hair. His tongue found its way into your mouth and you managed to back him out of the kitchen.

“Room?” You asked as you backed him into the hallway.

“You finally gonna let me fuck you good, kitten?” You almost threw up at the nickname and decided that you could only continue if you put the whole “kitten” thing to rest.

“If you stop calling me that,” your hands moved down to his arms.

“Sure,” he nodded. You were surprised he had agreed so easily, but he had clearly been desperate since most women you knew wouldn’t have touched him with a ten foot pole.

“Call me angel, okay?” You knew it was wrong to have him call you by Eddie’s nickname for you, but you couldn’t help it. You needed to hear it again, even if it was from Derek’s mouth.

“Angel,” he repeated and it sounded so gross when he said it. It didn’t roll off his tongue like it did Eddie’s. It was like nails on a chalkboard, almost as if he was saying an offensive slur.

“That’s it, baby,” you replied, attaching your lips to his again. “Where’s your room?”

“Just here,” he opened the door to your right and you pushed him inside, slamming the door behind you. You stripped him of his jacket and threw it off to the side. You then removed his shirt before turning your back to him. He pressed kisses to your shoulder as he unlaced your corset and he was taking a little too long for your liking. He sucked on your neck and you couldn’t help but think about Eddie and all the things his tongue could do. Your corset fell to the floor and you turned around to face Derek again. He sat down on the bed and you straddled his waist.

“Shit, angel, they’re even better than I imagined,” he stared at your breasts and you almost wanted to cover yourself back up.

“Really?” You felt so disgusted that he had been imaging what you had looked like naked even though you were definitely turned on by it with literally anyone else.

“Yeah,” he reached up and squeezed them. “Are they real?”

“Would it matter if they weren’t?” You knew it did matter in his opinion, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“It would mean that you were a fake bitch.” You almost asked him to repeat himself. Since when did a woman having fake boobs make her any less real? You couldn’t believe you had gotten yourself into a situation that you were so desperate that you were going to fuck Derek.

“Believe me, baby, they’re one hundred percent real.” You played it off but you actually wanted to hurt him. Why were you doing this? What were you trying to prove? Were you really that in need of feeling that kind of pleasure?

“Yeah,” he nodded, giving them another squeeze. “I can feel it. Absolutely no silicone here.” It took everything in you to not leave in that moment, but you were curious if he was good in bed but figured that he probably wasn’t.

“Are you going to fondle my tits all night or are you going to fuck me?” You couldn’t believe you had to ask. He was behaving like a teenage boy and you hated how immature he was.

“Sorry, babe. You’re just so hot.” His lips were on your neck, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to your skin as he moved his way down to your breast, running his tongue over your nipple. He began to suck on it before bringing it between his teeth, giving it a little tug.

“Oh, Eddie,” you let out a moan and all of the pleasure was quickly put to a halt as Derek pulled away from you. You couldn’t believe that you had done that. You just wanted to have some meaningless sex to get over Eddie and here you were moaning his name. What the hell was wrong with you?

“Who the fuck is Eddie?” You had fucked up for the second time that night and it was all because of Eddie fucking Munson. Couldn’t you have just one mindless fuck without him entering your brain? Was that too much to ask?

“N-nobody,” you stuttered, wondering how you were going to get out of that and have him continue what he was doing.

“Nobody, huh? Are you talking about Munson?” He grabbed his shirt and put it back on, signaling that your fun had officially ended.

“No!” You couldn’t deny it. He had already caught you so there was no use in lying.

“Bullshit. If you want him so bad, you can have him. We’re done here,” he pushed you off of his lap and you were able to catch yourself before you fell to the floor.

“Derek, please,” you pleaded as you grabbed one of his shirts from the floor, not wanting to have this argument topless. You then gathered your corset up, knowing you wouldn’t be able to get it back on by yourself.

“No, get the fuck out!” He pointed to the door and you felt tears well up in your eyes, but you held them back. There was no way in hell that you were going to cry in front of him.

You turned to the door and headed out into the hallway, not being able to stop the tears from running down your cheeks. Well, now your makeup that took you hours was ruined because of a stupid guy.

“And I want you out of here, you useless cunt!” He called after you which only made you cry harder. “Don’t even think about coming around here again!” You could promise that you would never step foot in that house again as long as you lived.

You got down the hallway and back into the living room to find Sheila. She always knew how to comfort you and wouldn’t ask any questions about what happened. You just needed a hug after all the shit you had gone through throughout the night.

Before you could get to Sheila, though, you just had to run into Eddie one last time to really ruin your night. You ran straight into him, almost knocking him to the floor. His hands grabbed hold of your waist and he stood you back on your feet. He looked down at you and you turned away, not wanting him to see you cry. You knew he wouldn’t laugh at you, but you just didn’t want to have to tell him the reason for your tears.

His hand rested on your cheek and he turned your head to face him. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at your tear stained cheeks and he swore he could actually hear his heart break looking at you. He had heard the comment Derek had made. He had wanted to deck Derek the moment he had gotten there and now he had an excuse because he wanted to avenge you.

Eddie had been invited by Derek at a bar the other night and the only reason why he even agreed was because he was desperate for a night out, little did he know that the host was a dick and he was that way towards you. You of all people. You were sweet and gentle and deserved someone who was willing to be that way in return. Maybe you right in saying that you were only attracted to losers.

“What happened, angel?” He asked, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. He had heard what Derek had called you and hated that he made you feel bad about whatever had happened between the two of you.

“N-nothing. I have to go,” you pulled your face away from his hand, wiping the tears from your cheeks. You sniffed to keep the snot from running out of your nose and all he wanted to do was take you in his arms and let you cry. But you wouldn’t let him. Crying at a packed house party in a fucking vampire costume was already embarrassing enough for you.

“Okay,” he nodded, stepping away from you and you were quick to make a beeline for Sheila. He watched you collapse into her arms and sob and it killed him that you had been hurt that badly. He wanted to kill Derek for what he had said to you. The name he called you. Was it just because you didn’t want to go any farther with him? That could have definitely been it. Eddie looked around the house and was beginning to wonder why he was even there anymore. You were there, in the flesh, not a figment of his imagination this time. And he had blown his one chance to make amends. Maybe he could finally call you and everything would be okay.

Eddie decided to call it a night after that, taking a very drunk Gareth with him to the cab he had gotten using Derek’s house phone. He had definitely overstayed his welcome and given that Gareth had thrown up in the kitchen, he really thought it was a good idea to get the fuck out of there before Derek kicked both of their asses.

He hauled Gareth out of the car and to the cab that was down the driveway. Was walking a little too slow for his liking and he was seconds away from throwing the bastard over his shoulder he was being practically being choked. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he was into that, but not in that way. Never in that way.

“Struck out, huh,” Gareth asked with cackle.

“How could you tell?” Eddie asked as he opened the car for Gareth who practically threw himself into the backseat. Eddie moved his friend’s legs and slid inside the car before closing the door. He told the taxi driver the address to his hotel and the car headed that way.

“First of all, you’d be going home with her, not helping my drunk ass, and second, I could see the way she was looking at you,” Gareth replied as Eddie buckled his seatbelt for him.

“Yeah, and how was that?” Eddie was very curious to know if you looked as mad as you appeared in his eyes.

“Like you smelled like shit,” Gareth responded before taking a whiff of Eddie’s hair. “And she was very wrong. Dude, you smell great so I don’t know what she was on about.”

“She didn’t think that I smelled, she was mad because I didn’t call her.” Eddie buckled his own seatbelt and got comfortable in his seat.

“I don’t call girls all the time and they still want me. What’s your excuse?” Gareth’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned to look at Eddie.

“I told her I would, though,” Eddie made a pointed look.

“You’re never supposed to say that,” Gareth shook his head. “Because then they expect it and you can’t be calling them, dude. Because that’s pussy shit and you’re not a pussy.” Eddie never thought calling someone he was sleeping with was “pussy shit” as Gareth liked to call it. He liked talking to people on the phone despite his social anxiety. Maybe it was because they couldn’t see him and only hear his voice. He mostly only used phone calls for dirty talk or to ring his uncle Wayne but he liked the idea of talking to you.

“It’s not pussy shit if you actually like them,” Eddie countered. “I really like her Gareth, and I fucked it all up.”

“Why didn’t you call her, then?” Gareth slapped him upside the head. Eddie supposed he deserved that.

“Because I couldn’t,” Eddie looked down, rubbing the back of his head. “I lost her number.”

“Well, way to go dumbass,” Gareth slapped him again.

“Hey, hey, watch the hair!” Eddie shielded his head. “I should have written it down.”

“You’re right,” Gareth nodded. “You should have. Maybe she’d be your girlfriend if you had.” Leave it to Gareth to rub salt in the wound. Eddie already had enough guilt to last a lifetime.

“Maybe she would have, Gareth,” Eddie ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “But what does it matter? The ship has sailed.”

“Maybe it hasn’t,” Gareth responded. “Maybe you could perform a song that you wrote abojt her or something.” Eddie thought about that for a moment and thought that even though his friend was drunk, he was making a lot of sense. A song would have been perfect. Women ate that kind of shit up. Maybe then you’d realize that no one was at fault that Eddie losing your number was just a sad accident.

“I haven’t written any songs about her.”

“I’ve heard you on the tour bus, man. Don’t deny it.”

“You know what, that’s actually not a bad idea.” Eddie hadn’t had that much to drink so he wondered why he was considering any idea that Gareth had in his drunken state.

“I was kidding,” Gareth laughed nervously. He wasn’t going to take the blame if Eddie actually listened to him.

“No, man. You actually did good,” Eddie assured his friend as the car pulled up to the hotel. He helped the guy out of the car and they made their way to into the building. Eddie pulled Gareth to the elevators and one of them just so happened to open as soon as they got there. They got in and the elevator took them up to their floor, to two of them in silence.

Eddie dragged Gareth down the hall and to his room, taking Gareth’s key from him and unlocking the door. He threw Gareth down on the bed and made sure he was comfortable then turned to head to his own room.

As soon as Eddie closed his own door, he reached for a notebook, flipping through it until he found the page he was looking for. He hadn’t written anything romantic ever until after he had met you. He had tried and failed, knowing that wasn’t Corroded Coffin’s thing, but now it was going to be. Just this once. People could hate on it if they wanted to, but this was all for you. All to get his feelings out. Sure, the initial goal had been to win you back but now he was just trying to process everything that had happened.

He knew how it looked. He made it seem like he cared for you only to never call you when he promised he would. But the eyeliner had smudged against your skin when Eddie had grabbed onto your hand in the car on the way to his hotel room.. He was so focused on the moment that he didn’t even think about the fact that the number was no longer there. The whole thing was unfair to both of you but he wasn’t going to blame you for being mad. You had every right to be in his eyes.

This was probably the most personal he had gotten without even mentioning very many details. It was something just for you and him, no one else. He wasn’t going to record this one, though. He thought it was better suited for the stage, on the piano. Corroded Coffin didn’t even have a piano when they performed but Eddie was sure as hell going to make sure there was one.

Your apartment, Manhattan, 1991

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, convinced that the events of the night before had been just one weird dream that was the results of drinking too much. You trudged into the kitchen to get some coffee that you knew Sheila had already made and poured some for yourself in your favorite mug before heading to the fridge to get some creamer when you saw the Polaroids on the doors. One was of you and your three roommates and the other was of the four of you and Eddie. So it hadn’t been a dream. It was all real and now you were embarrassed. You had yelled at and he has still looked at you like you hung the moon, especially in the photo where he was standing next to you. He was looking right at you, a smile of admiration on his face. Maybe you had been too harsh. Maybe.

You fixed your coffee and was about to head to back your room when the phone rang. Hannah answered it before you could and you wondered who would be calling. No one ever called except for Elodie’s girlfriend and she only ever called after she got off of work and that was usually late.

Hannah was laughing at something the person said and you figured that it was probably someone who she gave the number to the night before. You wondered if it was Eddie. Of course he would call her. She was every man’s wet dream with her long blonde hair and long legs. You were always jealous of her but you would never admit that. Because if you did, she would just tell you that you had nothing to be jealous of. And she genuinely believed that. She’d never tell you, but she was jealous of you. She was jealous of your confidence and the way your carries yourself, like you didn’t have a care in the world.

“Y/n,” she called out to you, covering the phone with her hand. “Phone for you,” he held it out to you and you wondered who the hell would be calling you. Probably your manager. Were you scheduled today and had convinced yourself that you weren’t? Were you going to be fired because you didn’t show up? Damn. You really liked it there.

You reluctantly headed over to Hannah and took the phone from her, eyeing her suspiciously. Hannah couldn’t have been nonchalant to save her life. She was having trouble pretending like she didn’t care. Like she was excited for you to take to whoever had called.

“Who is it?” You asked and she just shrugged.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. You could tell she was lying but couldn’t figure out why.

“You didn’t ask?” What kind of person didn’t ask who was calling?

“It’s not my business to ask who’s calling you, babe,” she laughed like that was an obvious rule you should’ve known.

“It is, actually,” you corrected.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” She headed to her room, leaving you alone in the living room. You pressed the phone to your ear, your curiosity getting the best of you. People couldn’t commit murder through the phone, right? That wasn’t a thing that could happen. You were just being dramatic. Part of you wondered if it was Eddie but you figured that wasn’t true. He was definitely too busy to make a phone call at this time of day, especially since he was going to have to rehearse for that night’s performance.

“Hello,” you answered hesitantly. Maybe it was Derek calling to ask for his shirt back. He’d get it from your cold, dead, hands. You had no intention of wearing it ever again, but now you were keeping it out of pettiness.

“Hope I’m not too late, sweetheart.” Eddie’s silky voice rang through the phone and you had to stop your breath from catching.

“I would say a year is a too late,” you replied and Eddie laughed in response.

“I’m a dick.” You both knew he wasn’t. “And I’m sorry,” he apologized. “To make it up to you, I’m offering you and your friends tickets to tonight’s show.” Those always seemed to be the magic words to get him exactly what he wanted, no matter what it was. Whether he forgot his ID at the bar or wanted to get in the club. The whole rockstar thing was so easy.

“You’d think I’d want to see you and your stupid band perform after you hurt me? My friends will be there, but I most certainly will not.” He knew it was a long shot, but he was desperate for your forgiveness. He had apologized, but he knew that wasn’t good enough.

“Y/n,” he sighed. “I told you, the eyeliner got smudged.” Oh, that again. However, you couldn’t help but melt a little at hearing him say your name.

“Well, why didn’t you write the number down?”

“I was a little preoccupied,” he chuckled. “I’m not trying to say that your feelings are invalid. At all. I think that you have every right to be upset with me. I mean, I would be mad at me if I were you. I just think it’s unfair that you’re not hearing me out.” He was being considerate of your feelings and you knew you weren’t doing to same from him.

“I am,” you nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Look, I know I’m a bitch, alright?” Eddie didn’t think you were a bitch. He could never think that. He still kind of thought you were hot when you were mad. Maybe if you forgave him and wanted to continue whatever it was between the two of you, he’d tease you a little just to get that reaction out of you.

“I just-when you didn’t call me, it felt like you were like just like all the others. I thought you were just being nice to me to use me for my body with no actual intention of calling me.” So that’s why you were so pissed at him. You thought Eddie was like Chris and he supposed that you didn’t really know him so of course you would think that. He guessed that he couldn’t really blame you for that.

“I know that, but I’m down on my knees here, (y/n.) I’ll do whatever you want if it means you’ll forgive me. Well, let’s be honest, I’d do whatever you asked even if you didn’t forgive me.” You liked the sound of that. You’d have to think of something for him to do if that was the case. “Will you come to the show tonight,” he asked and you could hear him practically begging. You liked the idea of him begging. You could imagine him on his knees, holding onto your hands with tears in his eyes, pleading for you to forgive him.

“I don’t know,” you replied. “What does one wear to a metal show?” You knew exactly what to wear having been to multiple metal shows in the past, you were just discreetly asking what he wanted you to wear. Maybe you were finally starting to get over the whole thing. Maybe.

“Whatever you want, angel,” he laughed again. That wasn’t the response you were looking for, but Eddie was just wanting to see you. You could have worn a trash bag and he wouldn’t have minded. “So you’ll be there?” You thought for a second.

“I’m sure Hannah will force me even if I protest.” All of the girls would, actually. There was no way that they’d let you miss something like that. Especially if there were perks because you knew the lead singer.

“Well, I have to go to rehearsal. I’ll see you tonight.” You could practically imagine him smiling from ear to ear and you hated that it was making you smile in return.

“Bye, Eddie.”

“Bye, sweetheart.” The line went dead and you hung the phone back up, making a beeline for Hannah’s room. You pounded your fist on the door until she answered. Hannah was quick to open it, her signature bright smile on her face. You glared at her but her smile didn’t falter. In fact, it got even wider. She knew exactly what she was doing and she knew that you were aware of it, she was just hoping that you would forgive her. What she was doing was for your own good, after all. She tried to close the door but you held it open with your hand. You pushed it open and stormed into the room, trying to calm yourself down before you spoke.

“What the fuck, Hannah?” You paced back and forth across the hardwood floor, trying to gather your thoughts. You wondered if Eddie had told her all of the details of your night together, but immediately ruled that out since Hannah was a huge gossip and would have asked you about it sooner. Hannah only responded by playing with your hair-something that always calmed you down for whatever reason-completely avoiding your eye contact.

“I thought you were giving Eddie our number for you, not me.” Why you had thought that when Hannah was always trying to set you up was beyond you.

“Oh please,” Hannah waved her hand in a dismissive manner. “Eddie is not my type and besides, I saw the way he was looking at you.”

“And how was he looking at me?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering what she meant even though you had a pretty good idea from the picture on the fridge.

“Like you hung the moon.” She put on a face that scarily resembled the way Eddie had been looking at you the night before.

“He was not.” You knew he was but you didn’t want to admit it because if you denied it, it would make you feel better about being mad at him. Admitting to yourself that he every intention of calling you made you look like the bad guy and you had been the villain in your own life for far too long.

“He was. We all saw it. Is there something going on between you two?“ It was then that you decided that you should’ve probably told her the truth. Out of all the girls, Hannah was definitely the one who would have believed you.

“I’m going to tell you something but you can’t tell anyone, okay? Not even Sheila or Elodie. Got it?”

“I’ve got it,” she nodded. “Now spill,” she grabbed onto your wrists. So you told her, not leaving out a single detail. You thought it was necessary to the story. You told her about Chris and how you dumped him and how you and Eddie had an incredible night that you had thought about every night since and how he never called you like he was supposed to. You also told her about the party the night before and how Eddie had approached you but you just yelled at him and all but told him to fuck off. You were beginning to think that maybe you were being a bit too harsh.

“Oh my god,” Hannah gasped, grabbing hold of your shoulders. “(Y/n), you could actually be a rockstar’s girlfriend. Do you know what that means?” She headed to her closet and opened the door to find an outfit for the night.

“No?”

“It means that all of these people want Eddie but all he wants is you. Every night he’ll come home to you and he’ll write songs about you,” she was speaking so fast that you almost couldn’t understand what she was getting at. “And dressing room sex. That’s probably the biggest perk.”

“Sorry to break it to you, Han, but I wouldn’t be caught dead having sex in a dressing room.” The idea did sound appealing, but you were thinking logistically.

She turned to you for a moment then grabbed a shirt from the rack, holding it up to you. “Oh, yeah, that’ll definitely get his attention,” she pulled you over to the mirror, hanging the hanger around your neck. You tilted your head to the side. It was a sheer black shirt with black flowers sewn onto it. It was definitely your style but you wondered if it was going to be too much.

“You wear this with your sluttiest black bra under it and he won’t be able to keep his eyes or hands off of you.”

“He invited me to the concert, Hannah. I don’t think he meant for me to go backstage with him.”

“He invited us, and yes, that’s exactly what he meant.”

“Yeah, he invited us, meaning that he was just trying to be nice.”

“You’re smarter than me, y/n, so why am I the one who understands what’s going on? He invited all of us because he wants you to have a good time. So you’re going to wear this and look hot standing in the front row, alright?”

“Fine.” You were honestly getting over being mad. Yeah, maybe you were still a little upset about what had happened, but Eddie had been nothing but nice to you and the effort he was putting in to make amends was making you feel like maybe you were being a bit too harsh now that you knew the real reason why he didn’t call you.

Radio City Music Hall, New York City, 1991

Eddie had just come off stage from rehearsal and for once, he thought he had done well. Ever since the night he shared with you, he had been in a bad mood since he hadn’t been able to see you again, but now that you agreed to come to the show, he was like a brand new person, and everyone was quick to let him know. They were teasing him about how excited he was to see you, making fun of his mannerisms, but Eddie didn’t care. He just couldn’t contain his excitement. He was going to be performing the song he wrote for you for the first and only time and he was nervous. What if you didn’t like it? You probably wouldn’t since it was a ballad and that wasn’t Corroded Coffin’s thing.

He ran his hands through his hair while he stood on the stage, something he often did after rehearsal. Imagining the place being packed with a cheering crowd helped him calm down. It uplifted him, knowing that everyone was there for him and his band. He wondered if people back home could see how successful he was and wanted to know if they would kiss his ass just because he had fame now.

He turned and headed back to his dressing room and had his stylist pick out an outfit that he hoped would impress you. It was a white cropped shirt under a leather jacket and another pair of leather pants. He put on the outfit and checked himself out in the mirror, liking the way he looked. His hair was the perfect amount of messy and he had some eyeliner smudged around his eyes. He nodded to himself and turned to get a drink from the fridge in the dressing room when he saw his band mates all staring at him.

“Take a picture,” he told them. “It’ll last longer.” He then brushed past Jeff to head to the fridge for a much needed water. He really needed to calm down. He opened the bottle and took a few sips before turning to his band mates who were still looking at him.

“What,” he snapped. His friends had been grilling him since the four of them had woken up. Considering you hadn’t been with him, they assumed that things had not gone over well and had been afraid to ask.

“Nothing,” Doug put his hands up in defense.

“We’re just wondering how you’re doing,” Gareth added.

“I’m fine,” Eddie replied wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Is she coming,” Jeff’s face lit up. He just wanted Eddie to be happy and he was hoping that you would be the best fit for him.

“I don’t know. I think she’s still pissed at me.” He drank more water to occupy his mouth. He knew he would ramble and make himself more nervous if he voiced more of his thoughts.

“Well, there’s still time to fix it,” Doug reminded him. “You wrote a great song, Eddie. And I think she’s going to love it.” Eddie was still unsure of how to feel about the song. He was convinced that you were going to hate it. That he had only written it so you’d give him another chance. He had written from the heart and just wanted you to know the truth. He didn’t care about the results. Or maybe he did but he would never have admitted that to himself.

“She won’t love it because the song sucks.” The song was good and he knew that. He was just overthinking like he always did. He panicked every time he was about to go onstage and would either need to take a couple shots or smoke a joint to calm himself down. He wasn’t going to do that this time, though. He wanted to be completely sober when he laid eyes on you.

“You’re just being hard on yourself. It’s probably your best work.” Eddie finished off his water bottle and threw it away before grabbing another one. This was going to be his coping mechanism instead of resorting to drugs or alcohol.

“Right,” he scoffed, setting the bottle down and pushing past the boys to lay on the couch. Maybe a small nap would’ve done the trick.

“Do you need a drink or a joint?” Jeff offered, sitting in the chair that was tucked under the vanity. “You seem a bit on edge.”

“Of course I’m on edge,” Eddie rubbed his eyes with the pads of his fingers. “There’s a lot riding on this.”

“Hey man, relax,” Gareth patted his shoulder but Eddie only shrugged him off.

“I can’t relax,” Eddie sat up. “This is going to make or break everything.”

“She’s just a girl, Ed. There are going to be plenty of those here tonight. Pick one and take her home. What’s the big deal?” None of them seemed to get it. You were much more than “just a girl” to Eddie. He wanted to make things work with you. He wouldn’t have put in that much effort for just anyone. You were the most beautiful and intelligent woman he had ever met and he’d have been damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.

“Alright, guys,” Randy, the boys’ manager stuck his head into the room. “It’s showtime.” He opened the door and the four of them filed out, Eddie being last. Randy patted him on the shoulder which did nothing for Eddie’s nerves. His stomach was in knots and he could have sworn he was going to throw up in that very moment.

You had tried your luck at the back door of the venue and to your surprise, all four of your names had been on the list of people who were allowed backstage, all of you given lanyards. Hannah had told you it was going to work, but you hadn’t been convinced. You had figured that Eddie had forgotten with his busy schedule, but clearly he hadn’t since you had been let in with no issue.

Randy had informed you that the band had already gone onstage and you knew that the reason for you missing them had all been due to Elodie insisting that she needed to stop at a bodega for a beer because there had been no way that she was going to pay concert venue prices.

The four of you were led to the floor and had been given spots at the very front row, right against the barricade. You thought that maybe you would have gotten balcony seats with the A-listers, but you much preferred being in the action. It made you feel like you were apart of something as opposed from looking from afar.

The lights went down and the crowd erupted in cheers while you were convinced that you were going to throw up all the water you had drank because you had been too nervous to eat. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t like you were the one who had to get on stage and perform. No one could have paid you to do that.

Smoke moved across the stage and quickly faded away when the members of Corroded Coffin took their places. Eddie was at the front of the stage. There was a spotlight on him as the opening chords to one of their top hits began. All the air had escaped your lungs when you laid your eyes on him. He looked so fucking pretty that it was almost unfair. His hair was the perfect amount of messy and his outfit looked like it was made for him. Knowing him, it probably was.

Eddie opened his eyes and they locked on yours. You could see he was holding back a grin and you gave him a little wave, that being your white flag signaling that you wanted a truce. How could you be mad at him when he looked so damn good?

Eddie sang the notes of the song and removed the mic from the stand, moving about the stage. Since this wasn’t one where he was playing the guitar, he always made sure to interact with the fans when he had a chance. He’d go to the end of the stage and hold people’s hands if they wanted him to. He’d look directly in their eyes and sing to them, like he had written the words specifically for them. He wanted the people who admired him to feel special. He knew that most of them had spent a fortune, so he was going to make sure they got their moneys worth.

Eddie got to you and gently took your hand in his, gauging your face for any sign that you didn’t want it. When he was sure that you did, he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a featherlight kiss to your skin. He looked into your eyes and couldn’t take his eyes off of your makeup and how well you had done it. He wondered if it had been for him but then decided that it didn’t matter. Not everything that you did was going to be for his benefit. Sometimes you did things for yourself and that included doing an intricate makeup look.

Eddie let go of your hand, pulling himself out of his trance. He couldn’t look at you all night, he had a show to do. He stood up and went back to his mic stand, ready for the next song.

“How we feeling New York,” he asked into the mic and the crowd went wild. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. I said how we feeling New York?” He put more emphasis on the question and the audience was even more loud. You kept your eyes on Eddie couldn’t help but think that he was born to be a performer. He knew just how to get the crowd going and make them feel like they were his old friends from back how.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckled. “I have to say, this might be my favorite city in the entire world.” He usually said that to get the audience to make some noise, but this time, he really meant it.

“But I’m going to be honest. I think it’s my favorite place because a friend of mine lives here.” Another eruption of cheers. “And she’s here tonight if you’d like to give her a round of applause.” Eddie stepped away from the mic and pulled out his in-ears so he could hear everyone cheering for you. He looked directly at you and could see the shock on your face. Here you thought that he wasn’t even going to mention you, but he had the whole entire venue screaming for you. Your cheeks heated even though no one knew that it was you who Eddie was referring to.

You covered your face with your hands, not wanting Eddie to see how badly your cheeks were burning. You could still feel him looking at you and tried your best to ignore him. He was going to have to work a lot harder than that to get your full forgiveness. Maybe just one bat of his eyelashes would do the trick. Definitely.

More songs were sung and you were actually enjoying yourself, finding yourself singing every single word back to the band. They put on a good show and you could totally understand the hype of people wanting to see them perform. Between Gareth’s heavy drumming, Jeff’s mesmerizing bass riffs, Doug’s shredding and Eddie moving around the stage like no one you had ever seen, the show was definitely something you would have wanted to see multiple times over. Maybe if you played your card right, you could.

You watched Eddie sit down at the piano. You had just been so focused on him, so you felt kind of stupid that you hadn’t noticed it until he sat down at it. He moved his hair out of his way only for it to fall back to where it was. He played some notes and you realized that you hadn’t even known that he could play the piano. To be fair, though, you didn’t really know anything about him.

Whatever he was playing was pretty. It was calming. The complete opposite of Corroded Coffin’s sound, but you still liked it. You could imagine yourself sitting next to Eddie, leaning your head on his shoulder while he played something that he wrote for you. That was a delusional thought in your mind. Eddie would have never written a song about you.

“Alright,” Eddie spoke up after he calmed himself down. “I’m going to perform a new song for you guys if that’s alright.” The crowd was the loudest it had ever been and you wondered why they decided that this specific show to debut a new song, but you had a sneaking suspicion what it could be about. Maybe if you got out of there quick enough, you could leave before he started to sing.

“This one’s called California.” Eddie turned to wink at you and you felt sick again. No. No way. There was no way he was going to sing a song he wrote about you. You had only had a few interactions throughout one day. Surely that wasn’t enough material to create a song, right?

Eddie began to sing while playing a ballad on the piano. Since when did Corroded Coffin do ballads? Apparently since Eddie met you. It was pretty and despite all of the harsh vocals in the other songs, Eddie was able to make his voice soft and sweet. It was beautiful and you hated that you were taking the bait. He was reeling you in so effortlessly with his heartfelt lyrics and it seemed like he actually meant the words.

The whole thing was about how much he liked you and the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You took up every inch of the man’s brain and he thought about calling you every day even though he had no way to. He thought about the way your skin felt against his and how sweet your lips tasted. How he could still see how pretty you looked underneath him and how good it felt to have you snuggled up in his arms.

You were slowly starting to realize that he was telling the truth. You knew it the whole time, but you were just trying to protect yourself. The one time you put your whole trust into someone in a romantic sense, it blew up in your face. But you didn’t even have to have a romance with Eddie. He could be whatever you wanted him to be so long as he was in your life. He wasn’t picky.

The song ended and you felt yourself tearing up. No one had ever done anything like that for you. Maybe you had been foolish to think that he was lying or just trying to get into your pants. He had said so much while somehow saying so little. It was like a secret between the two of you. Things he would say while the two of you were snuggled up in bed together. It was something that would live in your head forever.

You couldn’t remember how many more songs were after that. The words were stuck in your head and despite only hearing them once, you were convinced that you could have sung the whole thing word for word. You didn’t think that someone who looked like Eddie could write something so beautiful or that he could have such strong feelings as the ones he had for you. You had clearly made a mark on him and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

The band left the stage and people slowly made their way to the venue’s exit. You couldn’t move despite your friends trying to pull you along. It was as if your feet were glued to the floor and you had no intention of moving. You couldn’t. Not after hearing the song that Eddie had written for you.

Before you could stop yourself, you were making your way down the hall to Eddie’s dressing room. Your friends had followed you, all wondering what you were up to. Last time they checked, you had hated Eddie and now you were going to talk to him?

You passed by all of the people putting away the equipment and hoped you hadn’t missed him. Surely he couldn’t have left that quickly, could he? You could hear all of the commotion of your friends gushing about the show, but it was all noise to you. You had honestly forgotten they were there. You just wanted to speak to the pretty singer about his pretty song.

You feverishly knocked on the door and waited. It took a little longer than you liked for the door to open, but your heart stopped when it did. Eddie was on the other side looking even better than he did on stage. His mouth fell open, so much so that you were convinced that his jaw was going to unhinge. The shock quickly wore off and his mouth turned up into a grin, his famous smile on display. Your friends and the members of Corroded Coffin quickly made themselves scarce, leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/n-“ he was going to say something, but his words were cut off when you entered the room, closing the door behind you. He backed away, still unsure if you were actually there. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he thought that he was crossing a line.

You stood there, adjusting the strap of your purse that was sitting on your shoulder. You looked good. Amazing, even. A fucking knockout. Eddie was convinced that you had gotten even more beautiful every time he had seen you.

And now you were standing in his dressing room looking at beautiful as ever and for once, he was unsure of how you felt about him. You strode towards him and managed to pin him against the vanity despite the space between your bodies.

“Y/n-“ he said your name again, cutting himself off one more time. He wasn’t sure what to say. He was convinced that you hated him despite the flirty look on your face. He licked his lips, making them look even more inviting. You needed to taste them. You needed to thank him for the wonderful song.

“Y/n, I’m sorry about the song. I know it was a lot and I’m sorry that I sang it front of a crowd. I should have just given you the lyrics.” He moved away from you, still speaking as he grabbed his notebook, turning it to the correct page. “Anyway, here it is,” he handed the book to you, his heart pounding against his chest. “It’s yours so you can do whatever you want with it. You can keep it or you can rip the pages out and throw them at my head. You can-“

“Are you going to yap all night or are you going to let me read?”

“Sorry.”

You read over the lyrics multiple times, loving them more with each read. Songs had been written about you with your ex boyfriend also being a singer, but never like that. Never so delicately. He had written about your night together so tastefully. Most songs written about the subject had been so graphic and to the point. Eddie had come up with the prettiest metaphors.

You set the notebook and your purse aside and made your way towards Eddie. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his hair getting all tangled in your fingers with your quick movements. His hands went to your waist and you pulled him closer to you so that your bodies were pressed together.

“So you like it? If you don’t, the whole throwing the pages at my head thing is still-“

“Eddie for once in your life will you shut the fuck up?” You pressed your lips to his and you could feel him let out a gasp before quickly melting into you, his lips moving against yours. The movements were soft and sweet despite how desperate you were for each other’s touches.

You slowly swiped your tongue along his bottom lip and he opened his mouth, letting you in. Your tongues swirled together and he tasted just like you remembered, but better. It was still smoky and a little sweet but there was something else there that you couldn’t quite make out.

“God, I missed this,” he whined, his hands slipping to the strip of skin between the bottom of your shirt and the top of your jeans. His fingers were even more rough feeling and his touches were still soft. It was all nice, but you thought he was being too gentle.

“I’ve missed you every fucking day.” Despite the roughness of his voice, he was touching you as if you were going to break if he applied any more pressure. Where were the scratches? Where were the marks from how hard his fingers were pressing into your skin? Your lips pressed harder against his as your hands went for his jacket. You removed it and let it fall to the floor before reaching for any inch of skin you could find. You grabbed onto his arms, pressing your thumbs into the skin.

You pulled away to catch your breath, taking some time to look at him. The top he had on was cropped, the bottom of it uneven, like he had done it himself with a pair of scissors and you wondered if it actually looked good or if you were just biased. It was just short enough that you could see a good amount of his stomach. It wasn’t toned and he didn’t have a six pack or anything, but you liked that. You liked that it was soft and that you could see a little pudge sticking out.

“Like what you see,” he teased but knew that you did in fact like what you saw. He did wear the whole thing for you so your opinion was important to him.

“I think this is your best look yet.” You reached up, playing with the hem of the shirt. As if reading your mind, he lifted his arms up and you pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “I think you have me beat. This is a nice little thing, sweetheart.” He moved his hands up your shirt and traced the lace on the top of the cups with his fingers. “You wear this for me?”

“I did,” you nodded. “You like it?” You bat your eyelashes innocently and it was driving Eddie wild.

“Love it.” His eyes were filled with lust and you were eating up the way he was looking at you.

“It’s the first time I’ve worn it so you should consider yourself lucky.” Eddie was going to have to buy a scratch off with how lucky he was feeling that night.

“Oh I do,” he eyes lit up as they found yours. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m the luckiest man in the world.” You were convinced that your knees were giving out at his compliment. He was good.

“In the world,” you gasped. “Well, how lucky would you feel if I took this off?” You looped your thumbs under the straps and Eddie could feel his cock hardening even more.

“Pretty fucking lucky.” He almost moaned as he spoke. You hadn’t even fucked yet and he was already coming undone. He was so close to just ripping his pants off so the two of you could get to it. But he didn’t. He wanted to go slow to make sure you were comfortable.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours again, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your skin was so warm against his. So soft. He planted kisses all over your face and you couldn’t help but giggle, only making him want to continue so he could keep hearing the lovely sound.

His lips then moved to your jaw and you moved your head to the side to give him more access. You closed your eyes as his lips ghosted over the space right under your ear. He pressed a few opened mouthed kisses to the spot and just when you were enjoying the feeling, his nose moved along just under your jaw.

“Smell so good, angel.” Goosebumps rose on your arms at the nickname. That one was your favorite out of all the things he had called you.

“I only wear the perfume on special occasions.” You felt silly admitting it, but you knew that Eddie would appreciate your honesty.

“Glad we both agree on how special this is.” He pressed his lips to yours once more. “Can’t express how happy I am that you’re here.”

“I can think of a few ways.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “And which way were you wanting me to express my happiness?”

“You pick.” Your hands wound into his hair again. “I’m feeling generous tonight.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Well, if it’s my choice, then I guess we’ll just pick up where we left off.”

“Sounds good to me.” Your tongue found its way into his mouth once again while Eddie’s hands traveled down to your ass, giving it a squeeze. You let out little squeal and Eddie just laughed, letting his hands travel lower. He bent down and grabbed onto the back of your thighs and you took the hint and jumped. He caught you and wrapped his arms tightly around your waist while yours went to his neck. Your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, your ankles locking together at his back.

Eddie backed up slowly, his kisses becoming sloppy and sloven. He collapsed back onto the couch, the two of you still connected. You were now straddling his waist while he was sitting there, ready to let you have your way with him. He thought it was only right since he took the reins last time.

You pulled back to look at him and Eddie just admired you, a dazed look in his eyes. He looked so pretty with his lips red and plump from your kisses. His cheeks were also flushed and you loved the look on him. And knowing that you were the cause of it made you feel all warm and gooey, like a cookie fresh from the oven.

You dove back in for more and Eddie was letting himself be kissed, pliant under your touch. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, focusing your attention on it. You sucked and nibbled, causing him to let out a little whimper.

“Fuck, angel,” he whined. “Do that again.” You took his bottom lip between your teeth again and nibbled a little harder this time and Eddie’s whimper was louder. “Harder,” he breathed when you let his lip fall back into place.

“Eddie, if I bite you any harder, you’re going to have teeth marks.”

“I don’t care,” he shook his head. “Do my top lip this time.” You obeyed and did the same thing to his top lip, biting down as hard as you could without breaking the skin.

“Oh, angel,” he moaned. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

You pecked his lips then pulled back to gauge his reaction. You pecked them one more time but his lips slotted between yours before you could move away. This one was rough and sloppy unlike your other ones. His nose was pressed roughly into the spot next to yours but you weirdly liked it. The way he was taking what he wanted from you while gripping your waist tightly. His fingers dug into your skin and you let out a gasp at the feeling. You loved the way it felt, knowing that it was going to leave imprints of his nails on your skin.

Your fingers wound themselves into his hair once again, loving how it felt against your fingers. It was soft but coarse and he always made it the perfect amount of messy. Your fingers wrapped around some strands at the base of his scalp and you gave it a light tug. You could hear him whine into your mouth and you took that as an invitation to repeat the action, harder this time.

“Angel,” your nickname fell from his lips and your heart raced in your chest at the name. That was the name that made you feel something. That he saw you as something that wasn’t even part of this world. That you were heaven-sent. And as far as he was concerned, you were. Eddie wasn’t sure if he believed in a God, but what he did know was that he had been destined to meet you at that festival. And the fact that he had seen you again at the party must have meant something.

“Yes, Eddie baby,” you asked sweetly and Eddie was convinced that he was going to melt into the couch at your tone of voice. It was light and airy and there was something so filthy about it.

“You are-“ he cut himself off, his hands digging further into your skin.

“What am I, honey?” He loved all of these terms of endearment you were giving him. Sure, people had given those kinds of names during moments like that, but they had never said them with such meaning. They were just trying to get a reaction whereas you just wanted him to know that you had cared about him.

“Amazing.” He emphasized the word and you couldn’t help but blush. He was eating up your every move and you were loving it. You had him wrapped around your finger and knew that he would do whatever you asked, no matter what it was.

You pulled back to look at Eddie and felt your heart race in your chest as he smiled up at you. You could see little dimples forming in his cheeks as he was drunk on the absolute bliss he had been experiencing. He never really made out with people. He usually just got straight to the act, not much kissing or tender touches being involved. All the people he ended up going home with just wanted to be fucked roughly and he had no problem with that.

But he liked kissing you. Loved it, even. He had dreamt about your soft, plump lips every night since he last kissed you. They had tasted fruity from the lipgloss you had applied in the bathroom at The Ruby Room. And he didn’t even care if you didn’t want to fuck him. He could have kissed you for hours and been completely satisfied. He wanted to kiss you whenever he wanted. When he got home from recording or before he went on stage. He wanted to kiss you goodnight before you both went to bed, wanting to get one last taste of your sweet mouth before the two of you fell asleep. He even wanted to kiss you after declaring that he’d take you in sickness and in health until death did you part in front of the people that you loved.

Just by looking at you, Eddie had realized that he had fallen even more for you when you had been apart. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way for you. Or maybe he did. You were sweet and kind and despite the fact that you were going through your own shit, you had offered to cover up a punch that he had received from your ex boyfriend. You hadn’t even known him and helped him, not expecting anything in return.

“What,” you asked finally and Eddie only smiled wider.

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “I just like looking at you.” You didn’t know what it was about Eddie’s simple compliments that always made you come undone. He just said it all so matter-of-factly and with such confidence. It made your heart swell and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky not once, but twice. Even when you had tried to push him away to protect yourself, he had been nothing but nice to you, doing whatever he could to convince you that he was telling the truth.

Over time, you had tried to deny your feelings for Eddie, but you just couldn’t. You didn’t care if it seemed silly because you had only actually spent a few hours together. His absence only made you like him more. You missed his kisses. You missed his touch. You missed his stupid nicknames that somehow made you weak in the knees. You missed him. And you had almost let him slip through your fingers because you were too stubborn to see that what had happened with your number had only been an unfortunate accident.

“I like looking at you too.” You smiled back at him, all teeth. He was full on grinning and you liked the look on him. You liked that he was happy and it was a bonus that you were the cause of it.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours despite the two of you not being able to keep your smiles off your faces. You laughed into his mouth and it was music to his ears. It was a sound of pure joy and he hoped he could hear you laugh many more times throughout the rest of his days. Eddie joined in on the laughter and the two of you were cackling out of pure joy, you both just grateful to be in each other’s presence.

“I fucking missed you, angel,” he said once you both had sobered up. His look had been completely serious, the little twinkle gone from his eyes.

“I fucking missed you too, honey.”

“ can’t lose you again.” His eyebrows furrowed and you could have sworn that he had been afraid.

“You won’t, Eds. You don’t have to be scared. I’m right here.” You pressed your hands to his cheeks, hoping that the physical touch would help calm him down.

“You’re just so-“ Eddie cut himself off, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped. He was actually about to say it. Vulnerability scared the hell out of him, but you made it so easy.

“So what?” You titled your head to the side, wondering what he was going to say.

“You’re so beautiful.” It hadn’t been a lie, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to tell you that you had been special to him like he had intended. He wasn’t ready and he definitely didn’t want to freak you out.

“Well, thank you, baby,” you pecked his lips. “You’re beautiful too.”

“You mean it?” His face lit up in feigned shock.

“Oh shut up,” you scoffed. “You know exactly how attractive you are.” Of course Eddie knew how hot he was, but he thought he wanted to hear you say it.

“Idon’t know, doll. Do I?” He leaned his head back so he could get a better look at you. The mischievous sparkle came back to his eyes but you took the bait anyway. You were going to have some fun with it.

“You’re so hot,” you pressed a kiss to one of his cheeks. “And sweet.” Your lips moved to the other cheek, lingering a bit longer. “You’re thoughtful and caring even though people think you’re a dick because you look scary.”

“You’re supposed to be telling me how hot I am, but I’ll take the other compliments too. And maybe some more kisses.” He closed his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. His arms were now splayed across the back of the couch and you missed his touch.

You removed yourself from Eddie’s lap and stood up, fixing your top that had gotten messed up in all the activity. Eddie’s eyes opened once he realized you weren’t on top of him, but he didn’t move. He just sat there, his mouth still wearing that damn smirk.

“I think you’re getting a little greedy, superstar. You want my compliments and my kisses?” You put your hands on your hips and Eddie was thought even your feigned anger was hot. “I think that’s a lot to ask for.”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie strode towards you, taking you into his arms. “But if you’d like to reverse the roles, I’d be happy to tell you just how hot you are.” He put on a devilish grin and the idea was sounding very appealing to you. You had always been confident in yourself, especially when it came to your body, but sometimes it was just nice to hear the words from someone else.

“Okay,” you nodded, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Tell me then.”

“God, where do I even start,” he let out a chuckle. “You’re so fucking hot, angel. Like, goddamn. Your curves and your thighs. Your fucking thighs, doll. Might be your best feature.” He pulled you even closer to him, his arms tightening around your waist. “I know that people can be dicks.” He was specifically thinking about Derek but he wasn’t going to bring up what he had heard him call you. He didn’t think that was any of his business.

“But I love your body. I just want to tell you that I like you. All of you.”

“All of me?”

“Every.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Single.” Your other cheek. “Bit.” And finally, your lips, slotting his between yours. He pulled you even closer to him, his arms wrapping even tighter around your waist. Your mimicked his actions, trying to minimize the space between your bodies despite the fact that you couldn’t have been any closer to each other.

Eddie buried his face into your neck, pressing a few kisses there before leaning his head on your shoulder. He breathed in your scent, and focused on your touch, the only two things that told him he wasn’t dreaming. He had to be, though, right? This moment was so perfect that he had to be dreaming. He’d wake up only to find that he was alone in a random hotel room yet again.

You held onto him, rubbing circles along his back gently. His closed his eyes, not afraid to this time. For once, he was at absolute peace and it was all thanks to you. You made him feel safe. Like nothing bad could happen to him as long as he was in your arms. Even the scary thoughts that always seemed to followed him. They completely disappeared when he was with you.

“I could get used to this,” he sighed. Your hands continued to rub circles along his back and you knew that you could get used to it too. You wanted to be able to hold him any time to wanted to. To hug him any chance you got. Your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces and you were both thinking the same thing but you didn’t want to ruin the moment by talking about your feelings. That was a sensitive subject for the two of you.

“To what,” you asked even though you knew exactly what he was referring to.

“To this.” He nuzzled even further into your neck, pressing another gentle kiss there. He then pulled back to look at you, that serious look back on his face. “Got out with me.”

“Okay.” Eddie had never had someone agree because they actually liked him. Most people just wanted to either fuck him or use him for his fame or money. But you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t wonder if you liked him for who he was because he knew you did. It was in the way you treated him. He realized it when you were upset that he didn’t call. You wanted him to call and not because you wanted to have phone sex like the others. You wanted to talk to him about his day and even plan a time when the two of you could meet up again.

“How does tomorrow sound?” If it hadn’t been so late, he would have taken you out right then. He honestly couldn’t wait.

“You’re still going to be in the city?” You knew that they had to head to their next tour stop eventually.

“For you, yeah.” The band had a day off and he was planning on spending every single second with you. He’d take you anywhere you wanted to go and spend however much he had to just to make you happy.

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

“Perfect. I’ll call you with the details.” He winked and all you could do was shake your head.

“Are you gonna wine and dine me?” Eddie wasn’t that kind of guy but he could be if you wanted him to. He hated all of those fancy places and wine was the last drink he would choose, but he would have gladly taken you somewhere nice and even drank wine if you had asked.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “You’ll just have to see.”

“Okay.” You kissed him again and broke away just as Eddie was getting into it. He chased your lips and you let him, him capturing your top one between his two. He poured everything he had into it, hoping that you could see just how much he wanted you just by how he was kissing you.

Despite your terrible luck in the dating department, you were ready to dive head first into a relationship with Eddie. He had been the guy that had deserved the entire time and you were going to let yourself be loved by him despite how much it scared you. He had helped you through a really hard time and didn’t judge you when you weren’t ready to have sex with him like other men definitely would have. He had been nothing but a gentleman and breath of fresh air compared to the other men in the industry. You knew that the way he had treated you was the bare fucking minimum, but comparing him to your ex, Eddie was a goddamn gentleman.

It had been late, so the two of you had decided that to call it a night. Eddie took you by the hand and led you to a fancy car where the two of you gotten into the backseat. You scooted close, leaving no space between the two of you and Eddie was quick to place his hand on your thigh, giving it loving squeezes at the car took the two of you to your place.

You couldn’t seem to keep your lips or hands off of each other, the small space in the backseat being the perfect excuse to be close to each other, stealing kisses from the other’s mouth. Eddie’s hand moved around your waist to your other thigh, favoring that one so you could get more comfortable against his body. His other hand rested on your cheek while. Yours rested on his upper arms. The kisses were slow, like you thought you had all the time in the world. And sweet just like the two of you thought the other were.

The kisses never lasted long because of your happy giggling, but it didn’t stop you from trying. Your teeth kept clinking together but that only made you laugh more, the two of you only laughing more because of it. You didn’t think you had ever been that happy in your life and Eddie felt the same. Now that you had found each other, he could finally breathe again. All of his worries about you had vanished. You were right there in his arms and he was never letting you go.

The car had finally pulled up to your building and the two of you hesitantly got out. Eddie walked you inside, the two of you taking your sweet time going up the stairs. For the first time, you hadn’t been annoyed that your apartment had been on the top floor or that the elevators had been broken. Again. You didn’t even care that you had to go up the three flights nor that you were moving at a glacial pace. You were trying to soak up any extra time you could get with Eddie despite the fact that you wrestle going to se him in a matter of hours.

You finally got to your apartment and you lingered, gingerly opening your purse, holding onto your keys, but not wanting to unlock the door. Eddie stepped closer and took you in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips before pulling away but still keeping a tight grip on your body.

“I have to go,” you told him, but he just held on tighter, burying his face into your neck again.

“No,” he whined and you just laughed, resting the hand that wasn’t holding your purse on top of his head, running your fingers through his hair as a way to comfort him.

“I’ll see you later.” You made no move to get out of his grasp, still running your fingers through his hair.

“No.” He rubbed his nose against your shoulder, still making no move to let go.

“Do you want to come inside, then?” You nodded your head towards the door. Eddie found the invitation very appealing but he felt weird being in the same space as your friends like that. He was still unsure of the protocol when people he was going home with had roommates.

“I should get back to the guys. Make sure they haven’t trashed the place, you know?”

“Sure,” you nodded even though you were a bit disappointed. You still had plenty of time to share a bed with Eddie again, though. And if you played your card right, you could do that exact thing every night. He stole another kiss from you before pulling away from you completely. He let you unlock your door and you slip inside, closing it behind you. He was quick to knock and you opened up, knowing exactly what he was wanting.

“I forgot something.”

“Right,” you nod, deciding to play along. “And what’s that?” He answered by pressing his lips to yours, one more time, smiling into the kiss. You pushed him away, a smirk on your lips. “Get some sleep, honey.”

You closed the door and Eddie stared at it for a few seconds before heading down the hallway and the stairs to get to his car, thrusting his fist into the air just like Bender had done in the Breakfast Club. For once in his goddamn life, he had gotten the girl. And he hadn’t even done much to get her. He had truly won the lottery and wondered what he had done to deserve you.

You snuck into your room, careful not to wake your roommates, even though all you wanted to do was scream in excitement. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever been that happy. You made your way to your room and threw your purse onto your desk before collapsing onto your bed. You let out an excited giggle while kicking your feet in the air. You didn’t even have to go on the date with Eddie to know that there would be a second. And a third. There was an unexplainable bond between the two of you. An invisible string tying the two of you together.

You and Eddie both went to sleep thinking about what your future together would be like. Unbeknownst to the other, you had very similar idea of what you were looking for. A walk down the aisle. A white picket fence. A dog running around the yard while your little ones chased it. The two of you would sit on your porch, sharing loving looks with each other, wondering how you each got so lucky to end up with the other while you drank your coffee. That sounded like a great life to both of you if you were being honest.

taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles

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

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unhingedfemmecontent · 2 months

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i genuinely don't know if there is a way to explain lesbian relationship dynamics to straight people (or even just non-lesbians in general).

i was talking to my friend the other day (who is straight) and she asked me about my guy best friend. I love this kid so much like i dont know how to explain it. To the point where our dynamic confuses a lot of people. It is genuinely hard for people to understand how men can be platonic friends with women and how both of us (who are conventionally attractive) dont want to date each other.

This means we get a lot of questions about if we are dating despite the fact that i am very openly a lesbian.

In this conversation she asked me if i would date him if we never slept together. To which i clearly answered no. Her response is what made me think about all of this because she said "I would understand more if you dated girls who acted more like girls, but you went on a date with someone who was scheduled for top surgery, and if your a pillow princess anyway what is the difference?"

And as someone who never shuts up i actually paused. Not because i didn't know the answer but because i didn't know how to explain it. Because its so much more complicated than the person i went on a date with isn't a man.

Its not only that i am not attracted to men physically its also that i am not emotionally attracted to them either i could never imagine being in a relationship let alone marrying a man.

Anyway all of that to say i think lesbian relationships and dynamics are really beautiful and it is amazing to me how innately different our relationships are and how much our history has a part in that.

i love lesbians i love being a lesbian and i love dating as a lesbian.

#lesbian #lesbian pride #lesbian history #high femme #femme #femme lesbian #femme4butch

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fallenmonsters · 5 days

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red flags.

summary ➳ you’re way worse than yeonjin personality-wise, but jaejun couldn’t care less when you treat him better than she ever did, even when you’re also married and may or may not just be using him.

pairings ➳ jeon jaejun x male reader

warnings ➳ nsfw content, foul language, top!reader, bottom!jaejun, probably ooc jaejun, infidelity, mafia!toxic!reader, consumption of nicotine and alcohol, marking, possessiveness, unprotected sex, rough couch sex, pet names, choking, overstimulation, dacryphilia, shotgunning, cock warming, sir kink, jealousy, brief burn kink, mentions of murder, manipulation

author’s note ➳ toxic reader >>>>>> toxic characters

MINORS DNI !!

The scent of sex and alcohol combines together in the dimly lit room, orange hues casting shadows on furnitures as the sound of gasps and whimpers fill the arousing atmosphere. Two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey as expensive as diamonds laid on the table, now entirely ignored by the sole persons who had previously been drinking it to no end. Photographs, which seems to have been taken in secret, scattered alongside them in random orders; one in particular captured Park Yeonjin entering Siesta Luxury Shop.

“Stay still, ‘jun. Wouldn’t want me to get more angry, do you?” You ordered, lowly and warningly, gripping the trembling man’s hips with one hand and narrowing your eyes.

Jaejun shakes, gasping when you forced him to properly sit on your lap, prepped hole stretched to the brim and completely filled by your thick and long cock. He leans back on your chest and holds both of your thighs in a death grip, biting his lower lip to contain himself from moving. You hum quietly in a pleased manner against his ear that had him nearly squirming, throwing his head back to rest it on your shoulder and revealing the hickeys littered around his neck.

Your hand that was previously on his hip moves up to trail your fingers against the purple bruises and love bites you created yourself, amusement glinting in your eyes when he shivered. “You look really pretty all marked up like this. Perhaps, you could go out with your little friends sometime with all these visible so they’ll know just who exactly you fuck behind their backs.” The humiliation in your tone makes Jaejun flush as a quiet whimper escapes his throat, trying to hide his red face by burying it on the crook of your neck. The lack of his usual arrogance and cockiness gives you a surge of pride and ego, striking you further with arousal and lust.

Jeon Jaejun was by all means not a man without power. He’s always got the upper hand, whether in business or personal matters, and didn’t like having no control over the people or situation itself. He’s been an influential figure since he was young, growing up with golden spoon being fed to him by his wealthy parents who couldn’t be bothered to teach him basic human decency, which build him up to look down upon those who didn’t get a luxury to be like him. Inevitably, it built an excessive belief within himself that there’s just no one more superior and powerful, that he’d always be on top controlling and ordering people around.

But then, you came in and shattered everything he believed in with just few flicks of your hand.

Park Yeonjin’s older brother who’s got a long history of rivalry with Yeonjin herself, everyone was shocked to find out your influence and power exceeded that of theirs with many successful businesses and connections that goes beyond anyone’s imagination, grinning tauntingly at your own sister and proudly mocking her lack of capabilities in building things for herself without your mother’s help. You were quite the mysterious man, a conventionally attractive individual that had respectful manners and sultry eyes which had an unknown glint that pulls people in. A certain confidence to the way you present yourself, cool and collected demeanour surrounding your every being with pride and ego evident but not too much to appear narcissistic. You give off a high-class, elegant, well-mannered, intimidating wealthy man at first glance with multiple tattoos inked to your skin, several piercings, and a scent of expensive woody cologne mixed with slightest hint of cigarettes.

You’re the type of person who everyone will know at first glance that held a lot of power more than anyone could possibly imagine, your atmosphere giving off a silent warning to those who are foolish enough to even consider you as an enemy. There’s a certain look in your eyes that just intimidates people to submit to your doings, forcibly putting them in their places — below you, that is — and making them stay there regardless of status. You held the lives of those around you in the palm of your hand from how much power you had on society. Terrifyingly, you had done it all by yourself without help from Hong Yeong-ae, which spoke volumes of your capabilities and accomplishments.

It’s simply impossible to have control over you, Jaejun learned it the hard way.

Besides, how could he take it back when it feels utterly good being claimed and controlled by you?

“I— fuck, sir—” Jaejun cursed, feeling desperate for friction when staying still became harder as time pass by. He tilts his head sideways with a moan when you nibble on his jaw, kissing sweetly on the spot before biting down.

“It’s only been fifteen minutes, ‘jun. Quit it.” You mutter against his ear, bringing your hand to press on his stomach that had him twitching and squeezing around you. “Feel that? Got my cock nice and warm in there, doin’ such a good job of it.” You chuckled under your breath and brought a cigarette to your lips, inhaling the intoxicating nicotine.

Tears brim in Jaejun’s eyes due to desperation, eagerly accepting the smoke exhaled from your mouth when you leaned in and closing the distance to taste your lips. You quickly slipped your tongue in his mouth, exploring and rubbing his tongue with yours, making his head cloud with pleasure. He was forced to break the kiss when you suddenly thrusted your hips up and pulled a loud moan out of him, your name tumbling down from his mouth.

“shit, fuck— please,” He pleaded quietly and arched his back to cause a little friction.

You teasingly smirk at him, “I don’t know, love. Should I really fuck you? You’ve already fucked someone else this morning, after all.” Pressing kisses on his bare neck and shoulder, you held him down with one hand to keep him from fucking himself.

Jaejun shakes his head rapidly, “Didn’t— I didn’t even fuckin’ enjoyed it, fuck! Just please please, let me have it, sir.”

You let out a low chuckle, uncaring of his growing urge to pleasure himself, too comfortable with the warmth surrounding your cock. “Why fuck someone when you don’t even enjoy it, then? You and I both know how much you love getting your guts rearranged like a fuckin’ bitch by me.” You brought the cigarette back to your lips and inhaled the smoke, holding it in your lungs for a second before releasing it, the routine feeling somewhat therapeutic.

The male gritted his teeth and grasped your left hand in his shaking one to bite on the ring finger as a slightest bit of rebellion, trying his best to shoot you a glare. “F-fucking asshole… ngh! M’gonna fuckin’ ask you the same.”

There’s jealousy evident in his tone and you glanced down at your finger that he bit, only then remembering the silver wedding ring graciously wrapped around it. “Ahh, almost forgot. Haven’t seen her for a long time, do you think she misses me?” Jaejun bites back a retort at your amused face, knowing you were only saying it to get a rise out of him, yet he still can’t help the prickle of pain that struck his heart and squeezed his chest.

You’re such a fucking asshole, even more than him, and he hated it. But he could never bring himself to despise you no matter what, not when you hold him so dearly every-time you see each other, as if you were married to him.

Your amused expression falls when he doesn’t answer and you thrust your hip up roughly, pulling a startled moan out of him as you grip his jaw in a slightly painful way. “You’re in no place to ignore me, Jaejun. You’re the one that started this in the first place, calling my sister over to your shop when I told you not to. What’s wrong with me talking a little about my wife?”

The displeasure in your eyes make chills run up his spine and causes several apologies to spill from his lips, not wanting to disappoint you more and end up being thrown away for your trophy wife just because he failed to be good. He knew there’s no one better than him out there, but you’re always capable of throwing him away to find someone else that suits your taste more. After all, you only wanted him in the first place because he belonged to your despicable little sister. Even he was not special in your eyes.

Your eyes soften at the small panic in his apologetic voice, sliding your hand up to rest your palm on his cheek instead and rolling your hips to stimulate his aching cunt. Jaejun’s apologies quiet down, whimpering and moaning softly at the pleasure you were finally giving him.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, baby. m’just pissed it looks like you don’t know you belong to me now.” You nipped at his shoulder before harshly biting down, making Jaejun groan and jerk in pain. You licked the blood that seeped out, your cock twitching inside him at the taste. “You’re already mine, ‘jun. Not Yeonjin’s, and definitely not Hyejeong’s.”

Jaejun trembled at the possessiveness in your tone, whining desperately as his warm hole clamps down on your cock in arousal. It turned him on how tight you had a grip on him, the thought of not being able to escape your hold bringing a new sense of euphoria within his body.

Have you ever even treated your wife this way? Anyone could see in business gatherings how uninterested you are despite being tied down to her, the nonchalance, neutrality in your eyes and certain coldness in the way you speak to her, as if reminding her of her place, putting a clear image in people’s head. Jaejun almost pitied your wife in a way, being married to someone as cruel as you.

You thrusted your hips in an angle that rubbed against his prostate and Jaejun cries out, before you completely pulled out and shoved him down face first on the sofa without giving him time to process. Jaejun’s breath hitches when the smell of nicotine nears him, fear and lust evident in his eyes as he takes in the sight of your cigarette few inches away from his shoulder. He stays still in spite of knowing your intention, breathing hard as excitement rushed through his veins.

“You know this very well, baby. I’ll kill anyone who’d dare steal you away from me,” You grin devilishly and lean down, pulling him slightly up by his throat to expose his collarbones. Jaejun hisses and groans loudly when the cigarette burned his skin, precum leaking out of his cock as he jerked his hips on the rough material of the sofa. “and I’ll kill you if you ever try to run away from me.”

“f-fuck—! jesus christ,” He whimpered, feeling the burn sting and worryingly so fucking turned on by your threat.

Holding his shoulder down with one hand, you slipped your hard cock back into his hole again and shoved it all in without warning, ripping out a loud cry of your name from Jaejun’s throat. “Fuuuuck, so tight.” You cursed, licking your lips before beginning to thrust your cock in and out without waiting for him to adjust.

“w-wait—! I can’t— ohhh, oh my god!” Jaejun grips on the leather couch tightly as he moaned, electricity sparkling in his head and pleasure clouding his mind.

“Your hole’s so tight every-time I mark you up with my cigarette,” You murmured against the skin on his nape. Just as anticipated, your teeth sink in few seconds later to leave another mark that had Jaejun gasping, tightening more around you if that was possible.

“ho— holy shit! aughh—! more, fuckfuckfuck—! please,” He begged while arching his back, which you willingly fulfilled, sharply snapping your hips to assault his prostate and gummy walls.

Jaejun looked so pretty and handsome covered in your marks, countless hickeys and love bites decorating his neck, chest, nape, and back, his black robe deeming useless as it barely hung on his body. He’s nothing but helpless under you; a moaning mess who can’t do anything except take what you give, tears streaming down his cheeks as he attempted to stay coherent. His efforts are useless, of course. He’s already becoming a dumb bitch for your dick.

You slipped your hand to his throat while keeping your pace, grunting in his ear and chuckling breathlessly. “If you want me to get rid of my wife, just say the word and I’ll do it.” You whispered, making Jaejun shiver. “Unlike my bullshit of a sister, I’m not afraid to make you officially mine.”

Your words dig into his brain yet he couldn’t muster up a coherent response from all the euphoria he felt, drool dripping down his chin as all he could do was moan and whine and scream your name. He scratches against the sofa in attempt to ground himself, but failing to do so as your thrusts kept hitting every right spot, his eyes almost rolling back into his skull.

“Can’t speak properly now? Have I fucked you dumb, baby?”

“yes— yesyesyes, fuck, there— fuckin’ good!” Jaejun sobbed, his body trembling.

His tears looked so pretty on his fucked-out face. Jaejun rarely ever cries, and it made you fucking egotistical how you can easily do it with just few thrusts of your hips. His arrogance was your most favourite thing about him, but only because you get to ruin it and reduce him into nothing but your bitch. It’s amusing, really. The humiliation he gets makes him feel so ashamed, but you knew well enough that Jaejun could never handle being away from you. You had him completely under your grasp, all you had to do is just pamper him with affection and whisper love and false promises to his ear.

There’s nothing you love more than having control over Jaejun. How easily he fell into your trap, how he doesn’t realise he was being used against Yeonjin, how putty he becomes in your arms with just few words. You found him foolish yet was addicted to his presence and can’t be bothered to let go. It’s laughable how you feel overprotective of him enough that whoever flirts with Jaejun turns up dead the next day under mysterious circumstances. You had a bit of a problematic habit of burying your enemies to the ground, not like Jaejun even knows.

“fuck, ‘jun…” You groaned, “Whose bitch are you again? Will you remind me, baby?”

“Yours!” Jaejun cried out as he feels his orgasm approaching and intertwines his hand with yours that wasn’t holding his throat, as if not clinging to you would pain him. “shitshitshit, oh my god—! m’yours, fuck! Jus’ yours, sir, promise!” He babbled, mind-fucked.

“Good, you know your place well.” You praised and suddenly squeezed his arteries, making Jaejun gasp as his cock twitched against the sofa, stars sparkling in his vision. “I’m the only one allowed to fuck you like this, hear me? You fuck around again n’ I’ll make sure those losers can’t see a day anymore.” You thrusted sharply and Jaejun sobs. “That includes my fucking sister.”

“oh— aghhnn-! fuck, yes, only you— oh fuck, oh fuck, so close— sir—!” He mumbles, the coil in his stomach tightening. “please let me cum, sir. please, pleaseplease,” He chokes up.

The corner of your lips pull up to form a pleased smirk, tightening your hold on Jaejun’s throat and cutting off his airway that caused him to clench around you and squirm. “Good boy. Cum.” You ordered almost authoritatively, and as if that’s the only push he needed, Jaejun’s mouth fall open in a silent scream as he reached his climax, eyes rolling back into his skull.

You groan at the extra tightness and maintain your pace, helping him ride out his orgasm, Jaejun’s body violently shaking from the immense pleasure with white clouding his vision. Jaejun whimpered your name when you continued to move and peppered kisses on his back. His thighs quivered from overstimulation. He was entirely blissed out, hazy eyes unfocused, soft whines and mewls falling from his lips.

However, the gentle moment doesn’t last long as you pulled your cock almost all the way out and suddenly slammed it all in, Jaejun letting out a startled scream and staining the leather underneath with another rope of white cum.

“We’re not finished,” You whispered darkly against his ear and grinned at his pale face, gripping his hips so tight to leave a bruise. “I haven’t cum yet, dog. It’s rude to finish without letting your owner cum, you know.”

“W-wait— FUCK!”

You shoved him down when he attempted to crawl up, burying yourself deeper into his guts. You licked your lips and propped one of your legs up to prepare for a much better fucking.

“I fucking love you, Jaejun, you know that? So let me use you and make me cum, yeah? Then, you can spend the whole day here with all my cum still inside you. What do you say?”

You really hated vanilla — after all, what’s the point of sex if you can’t use the other to chase your own pleasure?

“……Please.”

You smiled, “Good boy.”

Cigarette in between your fingers and addictive smoke exiting your mouth, you tilt your head with curiosity and observation. The woman before you remain unfazed despite the clear disturbed look in her eyes at your resemblance with Park Yeonjin, the indifference — almost psychopathy — in your emotionless eyes aligning with her memory of the terrible bully. It’s like staring at a ghost that had something inhumane within.

“You must’ve planned this well,” You cast a glance at all the evidence of Yeonjin’s pathetic attempt at keeping her relevance by hurting those below her standard. “The bitch’s hard to keep up with, I can’t say I’m not impressed by your determination.”

Joo Yeojeong, the plastic surgeon that accompanied her out of concern, seemingly looked surprised by your antagonistic attitude to your own blood. Moon Dongeun doesn’t seem to be the case as she barely reacted, probably having already investigated you although it isn’t unknown that you have a personal vendetta against your family member.

You’re quite open to the public of your distaste to your good-for-nothing family, often answering the questions about them with too much passive-aggressiveness that everyone easily caught up on. Simply an outstanding individual that built up businesses from zero all on your own and created great reputation among the best businessmen and women without a single mention of any family member, there were rumours of the possibility that either they’re deceased or you had a fall out, and you took that to your advantage. By laying out warnings that even your family wouldn’t be forgiven had they ever cross you, you established power and authority among many influential figures and anyone alike.

Dongeun has researched you well enough to know hatred wasn’t exactly the word to describe your perspective of Yeonjin. It’s more than distaste, rivalry, detestation, loathe, or anything.

You, quite simply, wanted Yeonjin gone.

Is it psychopathy? Derangement? Mania? Insanity? Not knowing the cause of your behaviour never fails to send chills down her spine, your questionable morals and unpredictability nothing but unsettling and sinister more than your sister’s. Luckily, Yeojeong’s there to keep her nerves at ease.

“I’m not here to chat,” She says, voice wavering.

“Obviously not.” You reply indifferently, crossing your leg over the other and inhaling a smoke, blowing it over your shoulder.

Good manners, Dongeun takes a mental note.

“I’m asking for your understanding in advance,” She stated, watching your nonchalant expression slightly shift as you raise your brows. “I don’t want to run into unpredictable problems while executing my revenge. I know my place, I’ll be unsuccessful if you happen to dislike any other people going against Yeonjin. You’ve got quite the reputation in black organisations.”

She takes out another see-through file and slides it to you across the table, an amused scoff escaping your mouth at the sight of your gang’s symbol — a grim reaper, with snake circling it, holding a scythe — on the upper section of the document. Her investigation skills were impressive, to say the least. No one knows about your side job with an exception of certain people.

Deep, raspy chuckle rumbles from your throat and your companions resisted the urge to shiver. What an odd sight it was, an intrigued grin plastered over your previously blank face.

“Great observation, eh? I’m definitely that kind of type.” You shrug, “But I can assure you, I don’t give a damn about whatever you do to her. I found it ridiculous that she’s become so cocky and self-righteous these past years when Ha Doyoung and Hong Yeong-ae are the only reason she’s still relevant, and the latter’s already losing a thing to be prideful of. Imbeciles like them deserves to be put in their places.”

Yeojeong perks up at that. “Wait, does that mean…?”

“You have my blessing to make Park Yeonjin’s life a living hell,” You smirked.

Dongeun observes your body language; a deeply comfortable and relaxed demeanour with not a single ounce of remorse or guilt that you’re practically sending your own sister to an execution site. “You’re surprisingly easy to convince,” She commented.

Amusement glints in your eyes, almost accompanied by mockery as you chuckled. “Don’t give yourself too much credit, Ms. Moon. I’ve already been making Yeonjin’s life fall apart and I’m allowing you to join in. There wasn’t much convincing.”

“Why do you want Park Yeonjin’s downfall that much?” Yeojeong questioned curiously. “I thought your blood is still your blood even when you don’t see eye to eye all the time.”

You brought the cigarette to your lips and smiled, almost sinisterly, while tilting your head, an unsettling look more clearer in your eyes as you stared into their soul. “I kill people for a living, what makes you think I’ll have mercy on people who had long lost their purpose and significance in my life?”

Dongeun’s hands trembled under the table. Yeojeong swallowed thickly, the serial killer who had ruined his life before entering his mind all of a sudden due to the remote resemblance.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” As if you hadn’t been talking so cruelly about your family, an out-of-place cheerful and friendly grin appears on your face. “Jeon Jaejun is off-limits, Ms. Moon. I couldn’t care less what you do to him as long as he comes back to me alive.” You leaned in and tapped slowly on the photography of Jaejun, eyes trailing across your favourite toy’s feature.

Dongeun paused, remembering the one photograph Kang Hyeonnam managed to capture. You with your arm possessively wrapped around Jaejun’s shoulders as he talked with a certain woman, piercingly staring at her with a clear warning.

“Right, you’re possessive of Jaejun.” She remarked after a while. “If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re in love with him.”

You let out a laugh under your breath, extinguishing the lit cigarette by pressing it on the ashtray. “Well, he’s quite an adorable dog.” You leaned back on the office chair, “But you’re correct about that.”

“Don’t you think you’re protecting him because you like him?” Dongeun genuinely asked.

The lack of malice in her tone let you know she wasn’t looking down on you, just making an assumption that she thought was possible, which is why you remained neutral in spite of your tendency to get irritated quickly. You feel like you could have genuine conversation with this woman and perhaps, even form an alliance, because not once had she gotten into your nerves this entire meeting. Her well-mannered attitude and calm, sophisticated personality did nothing but please you. It’s actually refreshing to meet someone who isn’t an obtuse fucking asshole that pretends to be something. She’s fearless, of course, but she perfectly knew her place and yours.

“Would you call it protecting when I’m even allowing you to do whatever you please with him?” You fired back, smiling almost genuinely at her. “I don’t care if he comes back to me crippled or blind as long as he’s breathing, because I simply refuse to mind someone else’s business. This is your revenge. I’ve got no plans interfering with something that doesn’t affect me nor my businesses.”

“You didn’t ask me why I’m doing this,” Dongeun wonders out loud. “Did you already know?”

“Of course,” You admitted with a nonchalant shrug. “I already had something planned ahead for the big final revelation of my beautiful younger sister,” You sneered with sarcasm. “But this is much more fitting for her. I have too much things to do to look through your evidence and figure out which ones you haven’t gotten yet, so I’ll just send you everything I’ve gathered myself.”

Slight surprise appeared on both of their faces and they exchanged a glance before Dongeun looked back to you. “That’s… helpful, but in exchange for what?”

You smiled, glad that it’s easy for her to figure out your intent. “Their absolute damnation.”

Dongeun stares at you, feeling the silent threats hanging in the air. Looking at your eyes glinting in mischief was enough; the failure to condemn Park Yeonjin and the others will result in her getting placed in the execution site with them. It was an oath from you to her, that she will gain all of your support in her plans, but can easily lose it once something doesn’t go according to plan.

You flashed a grin at her, leaning on your elbows. “Once everything goes smooth and they’re rotting either in prison or somewhere six feet under, I’ll give you a grace to be on the off-limits list in our organisation. That means you’ll be under my protection and not a single one of my men can harm you, even me.”

“What if you break it?” Yeojeong instantly chimes in, his concern evident for the woman.

“Then, I’ll cut my throat.” You don’t miss a beat to reply, making them widen their eyes. “People like us take deals, promises and oaths very seriously. Breaking them simply makes us a disgrace to the organisation, even the one that built it, so we tend to avoid going against what we initially agreed upon.”

Dongeun goes silent for a moment, contemplation plastered on her face, but gave you a nod afterwards. “That’ll be fine.” Her expression then shifts into a skeptical look, “But wouldn’t it be troublesome for you if Jeon Jaejun finds out you’re helping me?”

Your lips outstretched into a twisted smile that Dongeun and Yeojeong can’t be sure they’ll ever get used to.

“He doesn’t have to — what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, can it?”

Jaejun would come to you for help, he was adorable like that. He’d tell you about Moon Dongeun and her revenge against him. You just have to pretend you know nothing and take care of him, like you always do, and comfort him — so he would finally realise you’re the only one he can truly rely on. Not anyone, not Yeonjin, but you.

I’m so happy you’ve come this far, baby sis.

You thought to yourself, watching as a servant poured you and your two guests a red wine.

Everything you surrounded yourself with, is mine.

I win again, so I thank you with all my heart.

You’ve always been better than her and it’s going to stay that way, even with her ex-lover.

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