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honey-flustered · 2 months

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Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,” He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fullg by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

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lewisvinga · 5 months

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norman fcking rockwell | daniel ricciardo x fem! reader

part two.

summary: daniel proves that he will always be just a man.

warning: kinda angst (?) , misogynistic/sexist daniel sorry y’all

word count; 313

note; based off of that lyric in normal fucking rockwell by lana del rey lol, but i was listening to this song n got an idea and daniel was the first to pop in my mind my bad😭😭😭🙏🙏

"born to die' series masterlist !

masterlist !

“You haven’t hung out with us in so long, Dan. The wife has you tied down?”

Y/n overhears Daniel’s friend say with a chuckle as she made her way back to the dining table. Daniel decided to host a barbecue for his friends and their partners after the end of the season. Y/n never really talked to his friends. She didn’t know them well so he thought it was a perfect way to introduce them.

She was excited at first. Excited to meet his friends. However, her excitement immediately disappeared when she noticed how different Daniel acted.

“Well you know the Missus. Always bein’ clingy and wantin’ me around.” Daniel replies with a chuckle. “It’s like havin’ a koala strapped onto me the whole time! Can’t get away from her!” He exclaims as him and his other friends bursted into laughter.

Y/n furrows up her eyebrows as she sits back down next to him. If anything, he was the clingy one. He was the one who always wanted to be around her. He was the one who clung to her like a koala.

“But Dan, you’re the clingy one.” She quickly responds, her eyebrows still furrowed up.

Daniel scoffs in reply and shakes his head. “See her? Now she’s lyin’ on my name!” He chuckles. He gently pats her thigh as he turning back to face her. “Now why don’t you be a lady and get us a couple more beers and more of those potatoes.”

Y/n felt her face heat up, hearing the snickers from his friends. She didn’t fail to notice the sympathetic looks from their girlfriends as she hesitantly nods and gets up. She slowly makes her way to the kitchen and hears another friend make another sexist joke. She wasn’t surprised to hear Daniel’s loud laugh soon follow.

After all, he’s just a man and that’s what he does.

#f1 scenario #formula one imagines #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one scenarios #formula one x reader #f1 scenarios #f1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo scenarios

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joelalorian · 22 days

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Fall Into Me - Chapter Six: And I Knew My Heart Wasn't Mine

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Two idiots falling in love. Finally some smut-ish stuff. Dry humping on the couch. Joel is his own warning. Tommy keeping it real. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

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Chapter Five | Main Masterlist

Sitting at the kitchen table on Sunday morning, you reviewed an email on your phone from the Texas Education Agency. Relief washed over you. The State Board finally approved your certification after jumping through a million hoops, just in time for your upcoming meeting at Sarah’s school.

Yet another step closer to finally feeling like an actual adult contributing to society.

“Morning, Spud,” your dad greeted as he walked into the kitchen in search of his morning coffee. “You’re up early. Did you have fun with Sarah yesterday?”

“I figured I’d seize the day and all that. I had a blast yesterday! Sarah is so smart, and Joel was really nice, as always,” you replied, playing down quite how much of a roll Joel had in making the day so enjoyable. You still couldn’t believe how things worked out.

Joel Miller, dead sexy single father, liked you, wanted to be with you. Little morsels of doubt tried to weasel their way into your mind, trying to make you question what was so special about you that a man like Joel would be interested in. You shook those thoughts away, resolving to believe that you deserved someone like him, someone who liked you for who you were and not who they wanted you to be.

“He comes from good stock, that Joel,” your dad interrupted you’re wandering thoughts. “Not sure what happened with Tommy, though. Musta been dropped on his head as a baby or somethin’.”

“Dad!” you laughed, shaking your head. “There’s nothing wrong with the guy. He’s young, single, and unburdened by responsibility. I imagine you were like that once upon a time.”

“Musta been so long ago I can’t remember,” he replied, hip checking you into the counter when you stood to place your glass in the sink. “Watch yourself there, Spud.”

“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” you replied with an amused eye roll. Your dad watched as you tidied up your little mess from breakfast and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

“You know, Spud. You’d do well to find a man like Joel. He’s a really good guy. Shame he doesn’t date. All the women go crazy over him.”

Your dad kept going on about Joel’s aversion to dating, but your mind froze on that one simple statement – you’d do well to find a man like Joel. You tuned back in just in time to hear him say, “He needs to settle down with a girl like you. Someone smart and responsible who’ll still give him a run for his money.”

Practically bursting with the urge to admit that you and Joel just officially started seeing each other, you curled your lips between your teeth and just nodded. You promised Joel you’d wait a bit before mentioning anything to your dad and you planned on keeping that promise. “He should be so lucky to find someone like me,” you sassed finally.

The day carried on as you spent some quality time with your dad watching TV and lounging around. It was refreshing and relaxing, reminding you of times past where the two of you spent a bunch of time together.

The urge to text you plagued Joel all day Sunday, distracting his attention from the football game until Tommy finally snatched the phone out of his hands and hid it.

“Enough, brother. You’re like a lovesick fool checking your phone every five fuckin’ seconds. You just spent the day together yesterday. Give her a little breathin’ room,” Tommy chastised. “Women like a little mystery after all.”

Flopping back into the couch cushions with a huff, Joel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t want to play games with her, Tommy. None of that aloof, hard to get bullshit.”

Shaking his head, Tommy waited until a commercial break to turn to his brother again. “I’m not sayin’ to play games. I’m just sayin’ you don’t need to be up her ass 24/7. You’ll see her every day this week. It’s ok to build up a little healthy anticipation today.”

Joel knew his brother had a point. He just couldn’t help himself. It’d been so long since he felt like this about someone – if he ever really did before – and it was messing with his head. Berating himself for not even kissing you yesterday, Joel wanted to at least text with you today. It felt somehow wrong to not talk to you.

Then again, you hadn’t texted him either.

Tommy made a valiant effort to distract Joel from his thoughts, talking statistics about the game and the players, anything to get the guy talking. It only worked for so long before Tommy couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, how ‘bout this. I’ll take Sarah for a dinner and ice cream date tomorrow so you two can spend some time alone. Get a little action in and maybe that’ll help you get your head out of the clouds.”

For the first time in hours, Joel’s face lit up. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer otherwise,” Tommy replied. “You two need to figure out if there’s something there and you can’t do that with a ten-year-old hanging around all the time. Not unless you want to scar her for life.”

Joel nodded, reaching out to take his phone back. Before letting go of it, Tommy grinned. “I already texted her for you. You’re welcome.”

Ripping his phone out of his brother’s hand, Joel scrolled through his text messages to find what Tommy sent you.

JM: Hey sweetheart. Netflix and chill tomorrow?

He only knew what that meant because of Tommy and you had to know that wasn’t something Joel would say. “Jesus fucking Christ, Tommy!” Joel growled, his ears turning red from what you must think. He was about to really lay into his brother for overstepping when you responded.

You: Netflix and chill, huh? Sounds like my kinda date 😉

Not expecting that response, Joel chuckled. Maybe Tommy knew exactly what he was doing after all.

“Like I said, you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he saw the goofy smile on his brother’s face.

Joel ignored him, proceeding to ask you about your day. The two of you texted back and forth well into the night until it was time for bed.

Climbing between the cold sheets of his large, empty bed, Joel wished you were there with him. He could already imagine you there, falling asleep together after a romp or two, waking up next to you in the morning. It sounded like heaven to him.

Hmm, maybe he could Netflix and chill his way to convincing you to spend the night tomorrow.

You didn’t know what to expect when you walked into Joel’s house Monday morning, but it certainly wasn’t a flustered Joel, knelt on the floor, staring down at a mess of pancake mix surrounding him and Sarah giggling her little heart out at the breakfast table.

“What happened here?” you asked, hands on your hips and eyes surveying the damage. “Did you have a fight with the boxed pancake mix.”

“He really did!” Sarah exclaimed, still laughing. “It went everywhere!”

“I see that,” you replied, grinning at her before turning back to Joel.

He stared up at you with wide, sad eyes and shoulders slumped. “I couldn’t get it open and then it just…” His arms spread wide, gesturing at the powdery mess on the tile in such an endearing way. You couldn’t stop your smile from growing wider.

“Go finish getting ready for work. I’ll get Sarah some cereal and clean this mess up,” you directed, gently pulling him to his feet and around the mess.

“You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess, sweetheart,” Joel replied, pulling you in for a hug. You could tell the warm press of your bodies together made him feel better and you basked in it as well, not minding the bit of pancake mix that transferred to your clothes.

“Don’t worry, I got it. Now git!” One hand swatted at his ass playfully as he rushed out of the room. “Now, what kind of cereal do you want, nugget?”

Fifteen minutes later, Joel returned to find the mess gone and you running a mop over the tile to wipe away any last remnants of the pancake mix disaster. Sarah already finished her cereal and was upstairs brushing her teeth before it was time to head to school. When you put the mop back into the bucket, Joel crept up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you close until your back was flush against his chest.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he breathed in your ear, sending a flood of goosebumps down your arms. Joel pressed his lips to the spot just below your ear and left a trail of kisses down your neck. The feel of his lips on your skin exceeded any expectations you had, and a contented sigh left your own lips.

With a hurried tenderness, he spun you around in his arms, the mop forgotten as it nearly fell out of the bucket. Faces close together now, your eyes drank in every detail of him from the richness of his dark brown eyes, the curve of his nose, the purposeful stubble of his beard, and, finally, to the fullness of his bottom lip. You could feel his eyes doing the same, drinking in every bit of your face before tilting his head impossibly closer.

“I’m going to kiss you now, ok?” Joel murmured; lips nearly pressed to yours already and you hummed in approval.

After all the weeks of mutual pining and self-doubt, Joel finally kissed you. It started as a soft press of lips and quickly morphed into an overwhelming need to devour each other when his tongue teased along the seam of your lips, begging entry to deepen the kiss. Teeth knocked together and tongues tangled as you tasted each other – somehow, the taste of coffee was suddenly appealing when it came from Joel’s mouth.

Hands wandered – his over your curves and yours into his luscious, dark curls. Joel’s hair felt as silky as it looked, and you had been itching to get your fingers in it from the moment you met him.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps bouncing down the stairs broke the two of you apart, breathless, and dazed.

“Wow,” Joel murmured, struggling to remove his hands from your waist.

You smiled up at him, equally unwilling to remove your fingers from his hair. “Exactly,” you whispered, stepping back with your hands at your side just as Sarah entered the kitchen.

“I’m ready!” she declared excitedly and you both grinned at her cuteness.

“Okay, nugget. Let’s head out.”

Heart melting in your chest, you watched Joel and Sarah do their morning routine of saying goodbye. The love between the two of them was so strong it was like a tangible thing you could hold in your hands. Nostalgia washed over you as memories of your own childhood, moments like this with your dad, flooded your mind. What you had with your dad, what Joel and Sarah had together, was a connection that would never fade, only grow stronger with time.

Briefly, you wondered if your evolving relationship with Joel would affect that connection, interfere with it in anyway. You couldn’t move forward with him if that was the case. Some woman showing up and changing the dynamic between you and your dad would have upset you as a child and you refused to be the cause of any upset Sarah felt.

When the two of them stepped back from their hug and grinned at you, any question about your place in their dynamic washed down the drain. You felt nearly dizzy with relief when Sarah quickly said, “Give her a hug, too, Daddy,” and shoved him as hard as she could in your direction.

With a chuckle, Joel gave in to Sarah’s demand, wrapping his arms around you. The broadness of him surrounded you, enveloping you in warmth and a sense of security you’d not experienced before. Was that what love felt like?

“Have a good day, darlin’. I’ll see you later,” Joel’s deep voice was but a whisper in your ear, his lips just grazing your earlobe. “I’m looking forward to tonight.”

Warmth raced up your neck to your cheeks and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation of what you hoped would happen later. “You have a good day too, Joel. Be careful, ok?”

“Always, darlin’.” He winked as you led Sarah out the front door to your car.

The journey to Sarah’s school started off quietly, Sarah bopping along to the music on the radio as you navigated the morning traffic. Your thoughts wandered to what you should wear later when Sarah startled you with a sudden question.

“Are you my dad’s girlfriend now?”

She asked the question so nonchalantly that you weren’t sure how to respond. Would she be upset with whatever answer you gave? Was there even a right or wrong answer? What did she want to hear? Mind racing, you settled on asking Sarah a question in return.

“Would you be upset if I was?”

Tilting her head side to side a few times, the little girl contemplated her answer while you held your breath. She turned to you with a smile so big it scrunched up her nose. “Nope! It’d make me really happy.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows were nearly at your hairline.

“Uh huh. You’re the coolest and prettiest. My dad would be lucky if you were his girlfriend,” Sarah admitted with all the confidence and knowledge of a ten-year-old. Another head tilt and she added, “So, are you?”

Equal parts amazed and grateful for Sarah’s acceptance of the idea, you opted for honesty. “I mean, I don’t know,” you shrugged. How could you explain what you had to a 10-year-old? “We haven’t talked about naming it yet, but we did decide to see how we like being together. Does that make sense?”

Sarah gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah, I think so. It’s kinda like how you’re a teacher, but not officially until you get the job, right?”

You laughed at the comparison with a nod. “Exactly. I’m as good as your dad’s girlfriend, we just haven’t made titles official yet.” You pulled up in front of the school and it was Sarah’s turn to get out. “Now get going, nugget. Have a good day!”

The little girl bounced out of the car, calling out to one of her friends. Just before you pulled away, you heard Sarah tell the other girl that you were her dad’s not-yet girlfriend.

The day absolutely dragged. Joel could swear that time went backwards every time he looked at a clock. It didn’t help that every single subcontractor gave him a hard time about something today.

The roof trusses arrived six weeks early and the sub refused to take them back even though the damn things would rot before they got to the roofing phase of construction. The company he rented the extra backhoe from wanted to raise their rates in the middle of his contract. The list went on and Joel ran out of patience three hours ago.

The only thing holding him together was the thought of you. Spending time with you. Kissing you. Touching you. Burying himself inside you… He adjusted himself with a sigh. Damn, he needed to put those particular thoughts on ice before he got himself riled up. The workday was shitty enough, he didn’t need the guys giving him a hard time about an untimely chub in his pants.

Finally, Joel had enough of everyone’s bullshit and called it a day, leaving his foreman in charge of the worksite.

“Off to doll yourself up, are ya?” Tommy teased as Joel headed for his truck. Gesturing in the general direction of Joel’s crotch, he added, “You remember how to use that thing? Make sure to clear out the cobwebs and use protection!”

“Jesus, Tommy,” Joel grumbled, climbing into his truck, and driving off. He knew his brother was only teasing, but Joel was nervous enough as it was. He didn’t need Tommy getting in his head. He did have a point about protection, though.

A quick stop at the convenience store to grab a box of condoms, Joel made it home before you and Sarah. Putting on some 90s rock, he jumped in the shower, putting in the extra effort to tidy himself up down there. He wondered if you preferred pubic hair or not. Fearing he was getting way ahead of himself, Joel opted to just trim his down and hoped for the best.

By the time he finished trimming his facial hair and tousling his curls, you and Sarah were downstairs, working on her homework. As he walked down the stairs, Joel could hear you encouraging his daughter to think the questions through and congratulating her when she got the answers right. His heart grew three sizes watching how you were with Sarah. You held his whole world in the palm of your hand and treasured it like the precious cargo it was.

Joel was falling so hard for you. You were quickly gaining the power to destroy him.

“Hi Daddy!” Sarah called out when she spotted him in the doorway. “We just finished my math homework. Can I play in the backyard?”

He set up a tire swing on the large live oak out back a week ago and it quickly became his little girl’s happy place. “Of course, nugget. Come give your old man a hug first.” Bending down, Joel swept Sarah up in his arms, biceps stretching his shirt sleeves as he swung her around in a circle. Sarah’s laughter echoed through the room, and you smiled sweetly at the pair of them.

“Uncle Tommy’s coming to take you out for dinner and ice cream in a bit. Ok?” Sarah nodded when he settled her back on her feet and raced for the sliding door. Once she was out of sight and earshot, Joel turned to you. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he said, voice deep and velvety.

Your body followed his command without conscious thought, so great the need to be in his arms. “I thought about you all day,” you admitted, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“Me, too. Could hardly focus on the job thinking about you and spending this evening together.” He tightened his arms around you, head bending to seal his lips to yours. When your lips parted at his prompting, Joel teased your plush bottom lip with his teeth. “It’s like a tasty little gummy worm,” he teased. “I could nibble on it all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, the little breathless sound music to his ears.

The kiss deepened until you were licking into each other’s mouths, hands wandering and grasping for purchase on any piece of real estate you could reach. Neither of you heard the front door open or the footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Am I interrupting somethin’?” he asked cheekily as the two of you sprang apart, disheveled and gasping for breath.

Joel ran a hand down his face, closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself. “Excellent timing as always, brother.”

“Y’all just couldn’t wait five more minutes, could ya?” Tommy’s grin a mile wide as he teased. “Lemme get the nugget out of here before you two scar her for life.”

You tucked your face into Joel’s shoulder bashfully when Tommy slipped through the sliding door. Joel groaned and wrapped his arms around you. “Don’t mind him, darlin’. He just likes to bust my balls.”

Ten minutes later, after some hugs from Sarah and more teasing from Tommy, you and Joel were alone. Taking your hand, he led you to the couch. He hoped you didn’t notice that his rough palms were sweaty with nerves. You were abnormally quiet, and he wondered if you were nervous as well.

Seated a few inches apart, the tension became too much. “What are you in the mood for?” Joel asked, breaking the silence as he pulled up Netflix on the TV. He barely logged into his account when you suddenly straddled his lap.

“Hi,” you said when he stared at you in surprise. “You know what I’m in the mood for?”

“What?” He barely got his mouth to form the word, his brain short circuiting with you in his lap. His grip on the remote loosened, yet neither of you cared when it fell to the ground.

“You.”

There was a moment where you both froze, each waiting for the other to act first. Then the tension snapped, and Joel’s lips crashed against yours. His tongue danced along the seam of your lips until you opened them to let him in. Tongues tangled in a never-ending dance as your hips tilted, grinding down on him. Joel was uncomfortably hard in moments, pressing up against your warmth.

His hands were everywhere, fingers tenderly tracing the structure of your cheekbones, down the curve of your neck, along the swell of your breasts. They finally settled, grabbing handfuls of your ass to pull you impossibly closer. You moaned into his mouth, hips bucking in search of more friction.

Gasping for breath, Joel tore his mouth from yours, his hands urging your hips into a rhythm as you dry humped him. His mouth left a trail of scorching kisses down your neck, eliciting a wave of goosebumps to flow down your arms. Your hips rocked, gliding across his hardened length and Joel swore he could feel your wetness breaching through the layer of clothes separating you.

Fuck, how he wanted to taste you, get high on your sweet nectar. He knew, just knew in that primal way, that yours would be the best pussy he ever tasted. His cock swelled impossibly harder at the mere thought of burying his face between your legs.

“Jooooeeelllll.” His name coming from your luscious lips in a drawn-out moan caused his own hips to buck up into you, hitting just the right spot to make you both see stars from the friction alone. His mouth sucked little marks into your neck, leaving his left ear exposed to your mouth as crooned, “I’m gonna come, fuck. You’re gonna make me come in my panties, Joel.”

“Fuck, darlin’. Come all over me, pretty girl. I want to see you fall apart from grinding on me like this. Drench those panties.” Joel sat back a little, just enough to watch your face as your orgasm swept over you. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, eyes rolled back in your head, mouth hanging open in a silent ‘o’ as you trembled above him, delicate hands clenching the meat of his shoulders for balance. A little sheen of sweat dusted your hairline. Fucking beautiful.

Joel was absolutely certain he could feel you drenching his pants as you came, your breath finally coming back in a sharp exhale. He had never been so turned on in his life. Watching you come apart for him, feeling it seep through the layers of clothing became too much. For the first time in his adult life, Joel Miller came in his pants with a desperate whimper.

tbc

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

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writingsbychlo · 4 months

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NONSENSE | theodore nott

summary; you got that holiday glee from your true love.

word count; 7946

notes; there is literally no plot here. the whole thing is supposed to just be fluffy cute nonsense. I hope you enjoy it, regardless. the first fic of the christmas 2023 series, based on this song.

The lights splashed off of every surface, the usual green of a Slytherin house party was spotted with a festive red, flashes of gold from the lights that had been slung around the room. The smell of fresh pine and berries was drowned out entirely by the spice of firewhiskey and the sting of glitter-powder from the Weasley twin’s mini-firework poppers hanging in the air.

The classic setting of the annual Slytherin Christmas party.

Brushing around your upper thighs was the fluff of your dress, a pleasant warmth racing through your veins as your drink settled into your blood. Your body moved, swaying amongst those on the dance floor as your hands settled on delicate hips, Pansy’s own hands on your waist, you both moving together, her head tossed back. The lyrics to the song were shouted from her mouth into the crowd, not a care in the world as she soaked up the atmosphere.

You giggled, her head snapping back up, and a mischievous smile played on her lips as she pulled you even closer. “What, you don’t like my singing?”

“I love your singing, Pans. It’s truly wonderful.”

She only scoffed. You’d listened to enough shower concerts and drunken raves as her roommate over the years to know singing was one of the very few talents that Pansy Parkinson did not possess. The smell of her perfume flooded your nostrils, and she spun, dropping to the floor in a dramatic show that earned her a few cheers, including one of your own.

Jingle bells rang out from somewhere in the crowd, muffled in the noise, Pansy made sure to twerk in time to them, her arse grinding against you as you swayed. When she rose again, her sights were locked on Luna’s across the room, the blushing Ravenclaw was doing her best not to stare, and making a poor job of it at that.

“Oh, go put the poor girl out of her misery would you, Pansy? It’s obvious she’s into you, stop torturing her!”

She faked a gasp, spinning to face you, and raising a perfectly manicured brow. “Now, is that any way to go about a game of cat and mouse? No wonder you lost yours so quickly.”

“I didn’t lose! I got my man, thank you very much!”

“Yes, you did.” Frozen hands clutched your waist, pushing Pansy’s hands away, their chill seeping through the material of your dress as the tip of a cold nose brushed along your exposed shoulder. “Hello, amore.”

With a dramatic sigh and a glare at Theo, she sauntered away, onto her next game despite muttering about him ‘ruining the fun’.

The crowd swallowed her up again, leaving you alone. Leaning back into him, the cold of his clothes made you shudder, even when his arms wrapped around your waist and his lips left open-mouthed kissing along your exposed skin.

“You’re cold, Teddy. Where have you been?”

“Out, getting some more booze. Can’t host the best party of all the houses if you’re not a good host, hm?” Finally, you spun in his arms, catching his cold lips in a kiss, and he hummed happily against your mouth as he returned the affections with vigour. His tongue licked across your lower lip, tracing the faint taste of his favourite alcohol there. “That’s the kind of kiss I get when I go out on a beer run?”

“You’ve been out in the snow, I was just trying to warm you up.” You smirked, his eyes flashing cheekily at the insinuation, his hands slipping a little further around your body to your back, tugging you flush against him.

“Well, I’m still pretty cold. Maybe you should warm the rest of me up, huh?” His body began to shift, moving together with your own as you danced slowly, hips rocking together slowly. He positioned one thigh between your legs, a large hand splaying across your lower back to guide you in the movements. “You know, you look pretty cute in this little get-up you have going on here, Mrs Claus. But,”

You rose a brow, his eyes scanning over the red, strapless dress and trimmed white fur, the thigh-high socks you knew would drive him wild. All donned for the occasion, a cheesy dress for the Christmas pastry before you all went home for the winter break. Leaning in, his lips brush the shell of your ear, voice dropping;

“Penso che le tue calze starebbero meglio sul pavimento della mia camera da letto.”

“Are you teasing me, Teddy? I only understood about half of that.” You murmured, his teeth nibbling lightly on the shell until you gasped, before he pulled back, leaving another kiss on your jaw as he did.

“I’ll make sure you understand me just fine by the end of the night, don’t you worry.”

Your cheeks flushed, and he noticed, the red only enhanced by the green lights in the room, your bodies moving together as the bass pumped across the stone and marble floors. His once chilled touch now seared into you like flames from a fire. Your foreheads pressed together, breaths shared as the moment was lost on you both, drunk on the feel of his hands on your skin and the smell of him in your nose.

“Quite the little show you were putting on with Pansy back there.”

“Jealous?” You mused, and his eyes closed, a smile pulling at his lips as he shook his head a little.

“Not at all, cara mia. Turned on, but not jealous.” He angled his head down a little more, mouth close enough to your own to taste the sugary mint on his every breath, making you want to suck the candy cane flavour from his tongue like a drug. Theo had a unique way of emptying your head of thoughts, of all rationale, of making you feel safe and loved at the same time as putting snowflakes in your stomach, all with a simple touch or look.

“Good. You’re the only one I want under my mistletoe, Theo.” His hand dipped lower as you kissed the side of his mouth, squeezed your arse as you nipped at his jaw, traced the edge of those thigh-high socks when you rose to your tiptoes to suck on his neck softly.

“Maybe we should go find some then, sì?” He sounded as breathless as he made you feel, nonsense flirting pouring from both of your mouths as the party roared on around you both like a din in your ears. He was your anchor, drowning everything else out as you retreated to look at him, smoothing a thumb over the mark on his neck that he’d no doubt wear proudly until it faded.

Taking his hand in your own, you lifted your clasped fingers to your lips, kissing across each of his scarred knuckles as you guided him away from the dance floor. His gaze stayed fixed on your motions, lips parting for a short puff of breath before those dark eyes flickered back up to your own. With a cheeky grin, you spun your back to him just as he moved to close the distance, a groan from him vibrating against your back as he all but plastered himself to you once again, his steps matching your own as the two of you shuffled through the room.

“You drive me crazy, do you know that? Those eyes, that smile… this body in a dress like that.” Your only response was to add a little more of a sway to your hips as you made your way towards the drinks table, taking the long route around and letting him wait. “You’re bad, teasing me like this in front of all these people… naughty girl.”

“Oh, am I?” As you came to a stop, he murmured his response, a kiss to the back of your head and a covert smack to your arse as he leaned over you, swiping for two fresh plastic cups and searching the littered table top for a bottle with something left in. “Does that mean I’m getting coal for Christmas?”

“You’ll be getting something hard, alright.” He whispered, hips bucking into your backside, letting you feel the slight bulge beginning to grow there, and you melted back into him at his touch. His hand slides up from your waist, slides up to your throat, to cup your neck. “Perhaps a new necklace?” He murmurs, squeezing lightly. “Diamonds?”

“You two disgust me, actually.” Mattheo coughed, making you both jump a little as the bubble pops, and Mattheo shakes his head, gagging falsely. He leant across the drinks table, beginning to shake bottles, glass clinking as he drops them when they turn up useless. “Absolute animals, where has all my good whiskey gone?”

“Hello to you too, Matty.” Theo’s hand slid back down to a safer place, resting on your hip as he came to your side instead, letting you tuck under his arm and bury into his warmth and cologne.

“Hello, lovebirds. Do we have anything to drink?”

“That’s what I have been trying to find out.” Theo mutters, and you shrug.

“There’s always the mulled wine.”

“Wine is not supposed to be hot, dolcezza.” Your boyfriend’s face screws up, just like it does every time you say something that offends his national pride, and a bubble of laughter erupts from you, only making his expression deepen. He’d looked the same way when you’d mispronounced a dish on the menu of the restaurants he’d taken you to on your first real date, or when you’d brought up the trending ‘lasagne soup’ you’d seen online.

“At this point, I’ll drink anything as long as it gets me fucked up.” Your friend sighs, drawing chuckles from you both as you shuffle from Theo’s arms, and make your way towards the cauldron simmering in the less-crowded back of the room. They follow you slowly, the two boys chatting as you step away from the noise and bustle of the main party, and into the smokey, crowded adjoining den of the common room. Enzo is practically filling a couch of his own as he man-spreads across it, a blunt hanging from two of his fingers as he stares at the game of chess he and Tom have going, only making a move after three more drags from his cig.

Blaise and Draco sit by the fire, each with a glass of mulled wine and in a heated debate about something you can’t keep up with. Draco’s new car or Blaise’s new favourite holiday destination, perhaps. Maybe, even a way to combine the two. Taking three glasses from the cabinet and crouching before the hearth, several greetings float your way as you pluck up the enchanted ladle that has kept the brew stirring, the smell of orange and cinnamon reaching your nose from within the pot.

“Not sure why you got three glasses out, darling. I’m not drinking that.” Theo’s nose scrunches adorably as you pout up at him, pouring one steaming serving for Mattheo, first.

“Oh, please, Teddy. Try it for me?”

“No.”

Your scoff is all you can muster, filling another glass as Mattheo takes his and leaving one empty, returning the spell-bound stirrer to its task. Standing to your height once again, you clutch your drink between your hands, lowing steam from it. “You really hate mulled wine that much?”

“It’s nonsense. Wine isn’t meant to be hot.”

“It’s delicious this way!”

“Most wine is supposed to be cooled, actually.” He continued his argument, one you’d had for all the years of your friendship before ever getting together, and you sip it with amusement as he raves on about taking you for the perfect glass of wine someday.

“Better not kiss me again, then.” You interrupt, and his head snaps to you, several chuckles from the boys who have gathered.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if you hate mulled wine so much, I mean, because that’s all I’ll be drinking for the rest of the night.” You take another gulp, ignoring the heat of it, just to make your point, and licking stray droplets of the red from your lips, watching him track the movement.

“Don’t be ridiculous, dolcezza. You know that I think wine always tastes its best when I suck it from your tongue.”

You don’t have a chance to speak again, not before his mouth is crashing down against your own and making you squeak in shock, the cup in your hands jostled enough to send some of the hot liquid spilling across your fingers. When you gasp at the sensation, his tongue plunges into your mouth, licking his way in like he’s memorising you all over again, and making your legs shake at the urgency. He has so many ways of kissing, Theo does. The lazy kisses, the high kisses, the good morning and good night and ‘I need you right now’ kisses.

This was different. This was ‘I love you’ and ‘shut up’ and passion all rolled into one, his fingertips digging into your body as he clung to you, pulling you so close that the spilt wine was no doubt soaking into his jumper and staining the green cotton. Pressing into him, you tried to return it, free hand slipping up into his hair, tangling in the soft strands as his mouth enveloped your own.

You almost dropped the glass in your hand, tingles shooting across every nerve you had just at the feeling of being near him. Falling for Theodore Nott had been one of the most intoxicating and reckless things you’d ever done. Everything had been just fine for years of friendship, years of laughter and jokes and hugs that never meant a thing, and then one day, the way you looked at him changed and your life had been flipped upside down.

If you could go back and change things, you would. You’d make sure to go back and let it happen sooner.

“So?” Your breaths come out in shallow pants as he pulls away to leave delicate kisses across your cheeks, prolonging the moment. “What’s the verdict?”

“On what?” He whispered stupidly, voice devoid of any understanding at all, deep and raspy as he nuzzled his way into your hair.

“I think we got mulled wine on your jumper.” Your own thoughts were just as hazy, just as blurred, and he backed away just enough to look down at the droplets, the liquid still staining your fingers.

Taking the glass from your hand, he placed it down on the mantlepiece beside the empty one, and brought your fingers to his lips. His eyes never left your own as he kissed and licked the wine away gently, sucking your skin clean and humming as he did, your lips parting but no words making their way out as Theo cleaned you up.

“Oh…”

“I suppose it doesn’t taste that bad…” Your head shook at his joke, his fingers weaving through your own when he was done. With a snap of his fingers, the enchanted ladle was topping your glass up, and filling his own. “Come on, cara mia, let’s sit down.”

Theo led you to the couch, sinking into the plush leather cushions and pulling you down to join him. Conversation was flowing like rich honey around you both as you settled, leaning into Theo’s side, his hand tucked against your hip, rubbing softly.

You sipped at your wine, letting the feeling take over, letting yourself drown in the blurry atmosphere of being with your closest friends and the love of your life. Enzo was telling a story between smokes, a story of the Weasley twins’ latest pranks that he’d managed to be witness to, and laughter filled the room just as much as words did, as he recounted the tale.

Theo raised his glass to his lips again, your attention moving to him instead, his throat bobbing with every swig he took, and when he pulled the glass away, you wiped a stray droplet from his mouth, sucking it from your finger. He pinched your hip in response.

“What happened to not liking mulled wine?” You teased as he clicked for the enchanted ladle, refilling both of your glasses, and his lips pressed together.

“I still hate it, but I’ll do anything to make you happy.” Is what he settled on, despite taking an impatient sip while it was too hot and scrunching his face up as his tongue burned. It may be an insult to his ‘perfect wine tastes’, but you knew that deep down, he loved it.

His hand moved to your thigh, rubbing up and down slowly. You hid your smirk in your drink, watching him grow more and more needy. It wasn’t long before he was lifting your legs up, twisting you to rest them across his lap. Taking pity on him and laying your arm over his shoulder, your hand moved to his hair, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.

It didn’t satisfy him for long, because only a few minutes into Blaise’s new debate with the boys, he was rubbing your thigh again. You offered a kiss, and another, but when his touches didn’t cease, you took his hand and moved it higher up. Tucking it against your upper thigh, you crossed your legs, trapping it steady between them and leaving a lingering kiss on the edge of his mouth.

He squeezed your thigh, grateful for the increase in affection, and slumped a little more into the cushions, taking you with him.

You drained your glass, adding your input to the story, and throwing in commentary as you went, between kisses shared with Theo, to keep him happy.

That satisfaction didn’t last long, however, when his hand began sliding its way up your thigh further still, inch by inch, and his lips were tracing your neck as he once again lost track of the conversation.

One drink down, two, halfway through a third glass each was when the lines became blurry enough that you didn’t mind your friends around so much anymore, but you did mind not having Theo’s tongue in your mouth. Clearly, he was just as affected, because as soon as your head twisted and your mouth closed over his, he was groaning happily, a grumble of ‘finally’, and leaning up to return the kiss with just as much vigour.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair, a slow kiss that was just enough to drive you wild, your crossed legs clenching each time he sucked, each little sound he made, each gasping breath before he was back. His hand, sandwiched between your crossed thighs, was squeezing occasionally, fingers tracing tantalising touches onto your skin and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Teddy…” You whispered, pulling back as your swollen lips stung from biting kisses, trailing your mouth over his jaw, peppering him with kisses as he bit back a moan at the feeling. You knew how much he loved it, how much he loved the way you’d lick at the hinge of his jaw, or the stretch as he tipped his head to the side to let you get at his neck.

Theodore Nott was a man who loved PDA and touches, no doubt about it, and he made you feel loved up enough with a single smile to grant him more than his fair share of affection.

“I missed you today.”

“You woke up in my arms this morning, dolcezza. We spent half the day together.” He whispered, and you pulled back with a frown, his head lazily tipping back to you and eyes refocusing as you deprived him of attention. “What?”

“Nothin’. I just…” Stroking a finger over his cheek, his head tipped into the touch, and he blinked up at you questioningly, waiting. “You didn’t miss me even a little bit?”

“No,” He murmured, your brows furrowing once again at the definitiveness of it. “Because you’re all I ever think about. I spent every minute getting ready to come back to you, and if that didn’t work, I started looking at your latest pictures. I can’t miss you when I know we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together.”

The fracture in your chest healed up in a second, bursting with heat and love and adoration instead as you pressed your forehead to his own. “Really?”

“Of course, amore. Do you truly not know what you do to me? The effect you have on me?”

“About the same you do to me, I suspect.” Your words were whispered against his puckered lips, and you gave in, another series of tender kisses until he was smiling too wide to continue.

“And what is it that I do to you? Tell me. I want to hear it all.”

“Oh, please don’t,” Draco whined, your head lifting to find him grimacing at you both as Blaise hid his laughter behind his hand. “I don’t think there’ll be any room left in here if Nott’s ego gets any bigger. If I have to listen to any more ‘I love you more’ ‘no, I love you more’ from you both, I’m going to be sick in the fireplace.”

“Don’t be bitter, Dray,” You teased, twisting to sit properly across Theo’s lap once again, your arm around his shoulders and your fingers in his hair, scratching at the base of his neck so that his eyes fluttered. “Just because you’re single at Christmas doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be miserable.”

“I’m not miserable, thank you very much. I’m free. I can’t imagine what it’s like to be shackled at the best time of the year.” Your laughter was hidden by Tom’s, Mattheo’s and Blaise’s, and this only seemed to ignite the blond man more. “All Theodore does is whine and complain about whether he’s bought you enough Christmas presents, and if he picked a romantic enough card. Too stressful, I won’t do it.”

“Y’know, ‘won’t’ is not the same as ‘can’t’.” Your tutting turned his cheeks red as the other boys all fell over the edge into hysterics.

“She’s got you there, cousin.” Enzo teased, eyes red-rimmed and face a state of permanent relaxation from how much he’d smoked, but even he was sentient enough to tease Draco.

“I hate you all. I hope all your Christmas presents suck.” He scoffed, sticking his tongue out at you as he walked away, and you pinched Theo’s chin, smacking a dramatic kiss on his cheek;

“I have all I want right here, Draco! But I’m the one that does the sucking, not that you’d know anything about that.”

He flipped you off, Theo’s hand tightening on your leg at the insinuation as Draco left to no doubt go and find one of his usual roster girls to nurse his ego back up to standards. “I’m holding you to that later, mi amore.”

“I should hope so, Teddy.” Uncrossing your legs from your seat across him and placing one wobbly foot on the floor, his hand slipped up from your thigh to you arse, stabilising you with a squeeze as he smirked to himself, watching you adjust the hem of your dress and turn to him. Taking his hand from your butt and weaving your fingers together, you tugged expectantly as he finished off his third glass of mulled wine, and then yours, too. “Dance with me?”

“If I ever say no to that question, I want you to avada me, okay?”

Staggering to his feet as you laughed, he let you tug him toward the centre of the room. Your arms wrapped around his neck, his own around your waist, and the two of you began to sway out of sync to the music, noses brushing and smiles matching as you revelled in the festive atmosphere.

“It’s strange,” His words were quiet, and you offered only a questioning hum to his vague statement, stroking the tips of your fingers over the back of his neck soothingly. “Feels like we’ve always been like this. It doesn’t feel as new as it should. It doesn’t feel like we’ve only been together a few months. It feels like we have always been in love, just like this. It’s just… sembra il destino con te.”

You considered his words for a moment, letting them roll around in the blur of your mind. “Fate?” You whispered eventually, and the glow of the smile that broke his face as the few Italian words you’d been picking up on rang clear.

“Yes, mi amore. Fate. It feels like fate with you.”

“I love you, Theodore Nott.”

“I love you more, (y/n) Nott.” He teased, lips sealing over yours in a promise that one day that name would be true. Your heart skipped a beat, your swaying continuing as you pulled yourself up a little closer, leaning into him for support to continue the kiss. Theo was everything, everything you needed and never knew. “Good thing Draco wasn’t here to hear that.”

“He’ll find this one day.” You stole another kiss, and another as Theo leaned in to meet you halfway, his hand sliding up your arm to clasp with your own. Lifting one hand away from his shoulder, Theo took a real step now, swirling you in a proper dance as he held your joint hands out, and giggles burst free as he began to twirl you around the room.

Weaving between furniture and friends, Regulus barely had a chance to snatch his legs out of the way from where they rested on the cluttered coffee table before Theo was waltzing you past him, stumbling around the room in a clumsy mess of loving and drunken movements.

Suddenly, over the top of the music in the room, came the baritone voice of one highly inebriated Blaise Zabini, crooning the lyrics to ‘All I Want For Christmas’. You smiled, joining him with the lyrics, then Mattheo and Theo and Enzo too, as the boys hunted for the tucked-away karaoke microphones that had been hidden in one of the cupboards.

With no batteries and no purpose, one was thrust into your hand. Just like that, you found yourself dancing the span of the room with all of them, belting the incorrect lyrics to any Christmas song you could think of between laughs and swigs of drinks.

Mattheo dropped first, out of breath and lay across a whole couch with a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, and a blunt in the other. Theo stood beside him, lifting Mattheo’s limp hand up every so often to steal a drag.

He occasionally added the words, mostly happy to stand with his arm around your waist as you danced against him, aiming all the particularly romantic lyrics his way with a smile.

“Well, someone has a little too much holiday cheer, huh?” Pansy emerged again, with suspiciously swollen lips and a dazed-looking Luna on her arm. Though, Luna could also just have eaten a few too many of those brownies she brought too, you think…

“What can I say?” You said through panted breaths, the carol still playing in the background as Blaise and Enzo continued to butcher the Christmas classic without you. “My true love gave it to me. How goes your evening, Pans?”

Her eyes widened for a fraction, before narrowing into a glare at your insinuation, and Luna only giggled. “Our evening has been going quite well, has it not, Pansy?”

“‘Course it has, Loons.” She mumbled, tightening her arm around the smaller girl’s waist, and guiding her towards the couches. When Luna couldn't see, she stuck her tongue out at you, and you pouted to hide your laughter, shoulders shaking in a betrayal.

“Your true love, huh?” Theo questioned from behind, making you jump in shock, and you turned around to swat at his chest.

“Don’t fucking sneak up on me like that, Nott.”

“Uh-huh.” He shook his head at your antics, leaning in to steal a kiss from your lips before you could swerve away. “I’m getting bored of this party now. How about you come and show me a little more of that true love back at my dorm?”

“Lead the way.”

“So you can stare at my arse the whole time?” He chastised, but took your hand in his own, beginning to lead you both back through the crowds, your departure covert before anyone could make you stay.

“The quidditch training does you well, what can I say?” Leaning forward to pinch him as he walked, he almost stumbled over a step, reaching behind himself to grab at your wrist, tugging you around to his side as he scowled. His cheeks were red, but there was a grin he was trying to hide, shining his eyes, and it broke free after another second.

“You’re a menace.”

“You do this to me, what can I do? You drive me crazy, Teddy.”

“Don’t say things like that to me unless you want me to bend you over that drinks table right now.” He muttered, the words tumbling from his lips like he was reading off a shopping list, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest as a shock of heat raced down your spine. “I can’t get you back to my dorm any faster than this, but you’re testing my strength.”

He began to push through the crowds with even more force, no longer polite as he wove but simply pushing his way through any gaps or spaces, dragging you behind him until he was ushering you up the stairs. Through the cold halls, the music dulled and faded to nothing but a distant throb of the bass, and even that was sealed out to nothing as he closed his dorm door, locking it with a spell.

Pressing him back into the wood, Theo was happy to go with your movements, pliant to your every wish as the bliss of the night continued to blanket you both. Your lips met his, a simple kiss he hardly had a chance to return before you were kissing at his cheek, his jaw, down in a trail along his neck, and over his covered chest.

Sinking to your knees before him, a shot of cold raced across your skin from the cool stones of the floor. He looked down at you, fingers brushing tangling into your hair, and smirking as he held it out of your way.

Your fingers began tugging at his belt in return, undoing it and slipping the leather out of the loops, he let out a happy sigh. Slumping further against the wood, you tugged at his jeans, mouthing every inch of exposed skin along his hip bones as they slid down, boxers too, his already hard cock bouncing up to smack across your cheek.

Hot, wet skin throbbed against your face, and you turned, tongue out and dragging along the length of his dick, before swirling around the tip. He hissed through his teeth, eyes dark and half-lidded as he stared down at you, that serious expression that always made you weak in the knees melting away to something else.

“Oh, you’re going to let Santa come down your chimney, dolcezza?”

Even in a moment like this, with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Theo managed to make a joke, your laughter muffled against him as you pulled back, and his own laugh was cut off by a moan at the feeling. His hips bucked, tip prodding at your lips as you grinned up at him, pinching his thigh for his poor excuse of a joke and terrible timing. Surely, you thought, you should be turned off or angry, something other than complete love filing you as he made jokes right now. Instead, it only made you feel more for him, his goofy nature behind closed doors that only you got to see, his sweet and funny and silly side that was hidden from most of the world. It was all part of what made him.

Somehow, his stupid jokes turned you on even more, a twisting in your stomach like snowflakes in a storm, your thighs clenching together. So, you matched his energy. If sexy Christmas puns were what he wanted, you’d certainly win.

“Will I get a white Christmas this year?”

Licking the underside of him, from balls to tip, he let out a throaty groan, angling your head with the hand in your hair and sinking himself deep enough to make you gag, never taking his eyes away from your lips. “Oh, we’ll paint it white.”

His gaze stayed glued to your mouth, watching as he set a slow pace, controlling the bobbing of you up and down his cock. Only half in, and he was already beginning to fray at the edges, fixated on watching himself disappear in and out of your mouth. Taking him by surprise, you pushed a little further, all the way until you gagged and more, swallowing as much of him as you could until tears were pricking at your eyes.

Again and again you let him take over, just to snatch it away when he least expected it, driving him over the edge, until he was muttering curses in Italian and throbbing in your mouth. Again, you took him down, deep until you couldn't breathe for the weight of him in your airways, and he fisted at your hair hard enough to burn.

Your throat flexed around him, swallowing and wet as spit gathered at the edges of your mouth, stretched around his considerable girth. Only when your lungs burned for breath did you pull back, gasping and messy as you stared up at him. “Santo fanculo, tesoro. La tua piccola bocca calda sarà la mia morte.”

“Turns me on when you talk dirty to me in Italian, Theo.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, hand cupping your throat, one thumb under your chin to tip your head up, and with a wink, he spat onto your waiting tongue. “Ingoialo, perché qualsiasi altra cosa ti do sta andando in quello stretto poco fica.”

A whimper slipped free, and he tugged you up by the fistful of your hair, uncaring of where your mouth had just been as he smashed his against it, tongue forcing into your mouth and kissing you so hard you could barely stand. Stripping himself the rest of the way, he made quick work of your own clothes, between keeping up with your kisses, and leaving his own collection of marks on your neck, Theo had you both naked and gasping in record time.

“I love unwrapping my presents,” He whispered into the flesh of your breasts, tugging you down into his lap as he sat, your hips rocking against his wet cock, mixing with your juices as he bumped against your clit with every movement. “Told you those stockings would look better on my floor.”

“God, just kiss me, Theo. Before you make me lose my mind.” Your hands were on his cheeks, tugging his face back up, and he was muttering a spell as your lips met. Using his nose to nudge your attention upwards instead. He took a nipple into his mouth as you leaned back, staring up at the small green plant he had conjured above you both, and giggling through a moan as he scraped his teeth across the bud. “Is that mistletoe?”

“But, of course, mi amore. It was the one thing missing.”

Flicking your gaze over the room, you took in the mess of Christmas decorations the pair of you had put up. You’d taken to decorating his dorm like it was decorating your first house together, celebrating your first Christmas as a couple.

A small, wonky Christmas tree sat on the dresser, a garland over the window, a wreath on the outside of the door and lights woven onto the headboard of his bed, flashing a myriad of colours on his profile now that only made him more beautiful.

Smoothing back the hair from his face to see him fully, you pecked his lips, and again, “I love it.”

“Anything to make you happy.” His words were cheesy, but so smoothly spoken in such a deep voice that you shuddered nonetheless, and his eyes sparkled. “What else do you desire, my love? You’re already in my lap, so why don’t you tell me what you want?”

Pausing your rocking, you shuffled back just enough, dragging a nail down his chest and between your bodies, cupping his balls and giving them a squeeze in your palm as his mouth dropped open, and eyes rolled back. “Why, you got a present for me in your sack, huh?”

He was groaning and laughing at the same time, his face buried in your neck as you continued your ministrations, his whole body tight and every muscle locked as you did, until he was shaking, unable to take it any longer. “That’s what you want? It’s all yours. How do you want to take it?”

“Let me go for a ride, be your vixen.”

He bit at the juncture of your neck, before lifting his head, eyes playing out a plan as he looked to you. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about some different uses for these lights… interested?”

“Always.” You breathed, letting him twist you around with ease, until you were on your back amongst the pillows, arms being stretched above your head, and thrill racing through your body like a new high as you felt the wires and lights coil around your wrists. With a test tug, they pinched at your wrists, leaving you strung up to his headboard like nothing more than a decoration yourself, and he whistled at his work as he pulled back to admire you.

Spreading your legs apart for himself, he settled onto his stomach, and anticipation overtook you in waves. Squirming on the bed before him, Theo chuckled to himself, blowing a stream of cool air onto your clit, making you squeal. “You look better than a whole fuckin’ feast. Look at you…”

He licked a single, firm stripe across your core, lapping up everything that had gathered so far, tongue parting your folds, and prodding at your clit as he did. When your hips bucked up to follow his face, legs crooking and feet planted on the bed, he placed a hand flat across your hips, pinning you down.

“Be a good girl and have some patience.”

Your whimper spurred him on, back in again and again, until the noises he was dragging from you were closer to cries and sobs. He teased at your entrance, dipping his tongue inside just enough to drive you wild before pulling back and focusing his attention on the needy bud between your legs. Sucking and nipping, he dragged you to the brink, all before pulling back and leaving you hanging, marking your thighs with his bites and bruises.

Again and again he played, until you were a writhing mess under his hands, tugging at the wires holding you down, desperately rocking against his face as his arms wrapped under your legs. And only then, did he give in. Just like that, every light touch became demanding, every teasing drag became more like a punishment, as Theo took what he really wanted.

Screams of his name from your lips bouncing off the worlds, your juices a mess on his face as you came, and he wouldn't let up. Pleasure so intense it blinded you, an orgasm tearing through you, your body spasming from the sensations, back arching, and his only response was to slide two fingers into you and abuse your clit as he scissored them.

Sobs became wails, your voice cutting out and catching as you panted for breath you could no longer drag into your lungs, all as he traced filthy words and claims onto your body with his mouth, while pressing to that spongy spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Oh, Theo— fuck, baby, I can’t—”

“You will.” He murmured, a third finger slipping in, and your body went taut, hips leaving the bed entirely as you seized, a second orgasm tearing through you and juices gushing as he kept his pace, riding you through the high and over the crest of it. He took everything you had to give him, cheeks shining and eyes locked on your movements, you could feel the burn of his stare into your skin, branding you as his as he almost killed you with his mouth. “Una ragazza cosí brava cazzo per me.”

As soon as he pulled away, your thighs snapped shut, your trembling body collapsing against the mattress as you gasped for breath. “H-Holy shit, Teddy.”

“Good?”

“Shut up.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who just had you begging for mercy, is it?” He tutted, pushing your knees apart, the cool air in the room sweeping across your still soaked core as you continued to leak, no doubt dripping onto the expensive silk sheets he owned. “Perhaps you no longer deserve my mercy.”

“Let me at least catch my breath,” You muttered, one of his hands coming to land beside your head as he leaned over you, the other pulling your leg up onto his hips. Brushing his lips across your own lovingly, you smiled, puckering them for a kiss,

“No.”

With that, Theo slammed himself into you, your eyes rolling back as your still fluttering walls were forced to accommodate his length, your core twisting so tight you thought you might come again just like that, feeling him slide deeper and deeper, all the way, until your hips were sat snugly together. Your fingers became fists, jerking at the lights and rattling them on the headboard as your instinct to cling to him, to tear his back apart with your scratches took over.

Instead you were restrained, all you could do was cling to him with your legs, return his eager kisses as best you could, head spinning, utterly overwhelmed with the feeling of being his. He gave you a chance to adjust, at least, his own face screwed tightly. Shallow pants on his lips as he steadied himself not to burst right away, and you made sure he struggled, clenching around him and rolling your hips into him until he had to hold you down.

“Stop teasing me,”

“I’m not doing anything.” Your denial was useless, his glare said everything, that he knew you were lying, and he would make you pay for it, too.

“Oh, you’re a vixen, alright. Piccola troia.”

“That’s right,” You whisper onto his lips, “But I’m your little slut.”

Just like every time you understood his first language, his eyes lit up, sparking with fire and adoration as you claimed him like he’d claimed you, lips searing as you kissed him. His hips began to move, in rhythm with your kisses and picking up speed.

Every thrust of his hips has the breath knocked from your lungs, stretched out and full of him in the most perfect way. Before you’d been together, your sexual experiences had been limited and disappointing, and your first time with Theo made you realise just how good sex could be. It didn’t matter how or when, whether it was bent over a table in the back of the library with his fingers in your mouth to keep quiet, or in the astronomy tower, high and lazy, it was always so good.

But this,

This was something else. This was mindblowing, your toes curling as he pounded into you, taking you to new heights of pleasure. His skin was slick, as was your own, sliding together perfectly as you shared breaths, foreheads pressed together, no longer even having the strength to kiss, nothing but the movements of your bodies.

“You’re so fuckin’ good, tesoro. So perfect for me.” His praise covered you like a blanket, only adding to the way you felt, helping build you higher and higher toward the orgasm that would blow the others out of the water.

“Oh, Teddy…”

“Yeah, you feel good?” One extra sharp thrust, your nails digging into your palms, and you began to roll your body up desperately into his own, searching for a release that would leave you in bliss for hours to come. “I love to make you feel good, you make me feel so good too.”

“So good, Theo. So big,” Your words were strained, eyes rolling back, and he licked his way across your mouth, a cheap and lousy kiss that barely counted, but it gave you enough of a taste of him to explode, Shaking as you came, your body was out of your control, more and more as your orgasm kept going.

His pace faltered, the way you screamed his name enough to make anyone feel dizzy, a dazed smile on his face as it reached his ears. One, two, three more thrusts and he was collapsing down onto you, shuddering against your body as he smothered you, moaning your name with hot breaths on the shell of your ear as he came.

His cock twitched between your walls, filling you up deep inside and making your jaw drop open just at the feel of it. He was still going as he pulled back, pulled out, the last of his load dripping down your folds and into the bed sheets, leaving you shuffling at the feeling, your whole body still reeling in the after-effects.

He pushed sweaty hair out of his face, staring down at you and admiring the mess he had made you into.

Your legs were still shaking as he leaned over to untie you, his own fingers a little unsteady and weak as he worked, freeing one wrist and kissing it softly on the red-marked skin.

“What the hell am I supposed to do without orgasms like that for two whole weeks?” You sighed, and his laughter erupted from him in a burst so hard he almost collapsed down on top of you with the suddenness of it. You could only smile up at him as he stared down at you, hovering over your face and trying to calm his amusement. “What?”

“I was trying to be romantic just now,” He chastised, the blow never hitting, and he worked on freeing your other wrist, and kissing that one too. When you had the use of both arms back, you propped yourself up as best you could, watching as he wandered away to retrieve a cloth. “You could always send me sexy letters in the post about all the things you think about, and I’ll make them all come true when we get back.”

He reappeared in the room, and you raised your brows. “Oh, you want a wish-list of all my sexy, nonsense fantasies, huh?”

“I want literally nothing more than a sex bucket-list with you.” A quick cleaning charm, and a soothing swipe of the cool, damp fabric between your thighs, and then he was crawling back up the bed, collapsing down amongst the blankets to rest his head on your chest as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. His head bounced with your residual giggles, his arms circling your waist as best they could, snuggling into you as you lined the top of his head with kisses. “I love you, cara mia. You’re all that was on my wish-list this year.”

“I love you more, Teddy.” Another kiss, to his forehead as he looked up to you, a devoted smile on his face. “You’re everything I could ever wish for.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott/reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott/you #slytherin boys #harry potter #lorenzo zurzolo #lorenzo zurzolo x you #lorenzo zurzolo x reader #lorenzo zurzolo/you #lorenzo zurzolo/reader

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Text

We Could Be Beautiful: Dead Girl Walking

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

🔹An AU in which you and Eddie are both actors in a community theater production of Heathers: The Musical🔹

Word count: 1.6K

A/N: Just an idea I’ve had rolling around in my head for a while. This will probably become a series of short blurbs within this AU, taking place between the auditions and the cast party following the final performance of the show.

Tags: mutual pining, unconfessed feelings, allusions to sex, passing mention of suicide (pertaining to the plot of Heathers), references to Heathers: the Musical, song lyrics

If you’d like a visual for the scene described from the original musical, click here

🔹divider made by @k1ssyoursister 🔹

You took your role as Veronica’s understudy seriously.

You’d copied down every stage direction, every line, every director’s note- you’d made sure you were prepared. Now, the ultimate test would determine just how prepared for this you really were.

Barb, the actress playing Veronica, had warned you that her sister might go into labor early, and that had been exactly what happened. That meant she would be in the delivery room on opening night, and every program in every audience member’s hand would have a little insert with your picture on it, alongside your name followed by “-will be playing the role of Veronica Sawyer.”

Already, you had managed to make it to the first quarter of the show. “Beautiful” had gone without a hitch, and you’d gotten through “Fight for Me” without your voice cracking. But next was “Dead Girl Walking,” and you were just about ready to fling yourself in front of a bus. Or drink some drain cleaner.

You hadn’t rehearsed this song with Eddie yet; you knew the words, knew the blocking, knew exactly which note you were expected to sing and every riff you had to hit. But standing behind that velvet curtain as you waited for your cue, you were practically on the verge of a panic attack. When you finally had to enter the stage, you channeled it all- the panic, the nerves, the terror of what comes after tonight.

I need it hard

I’m a dead girl walking

I’m in your yard

I’m a dead girl walking

You’d watched him sing this song with Barb so many times, and each time you’d wished it was you- now, you had your chance.

Sorry, but I really had to wake you

See, I’ve decided I must ride you ‘til I break you

Tonight I’m yours,

I’m your dead girl walking

Get on all fours,

Kiss this dead girl walking

You knew Eddie’s wide, wet eyes were those of an actor. The eyes of JD as he watches the girl of his dreams. Still, the heat and want you felt right now wasn’t Veronica’s- it was purely yours. So you let it feed Veronica’s words as you held his face in your tender hands and told JD the things you wished you could say to Eddie.

And you know, you know, you know

It’s ‘cause you’re beautiful

You say you’re numb inside

But I can’t agree

You were the one in the blue blazer now. Tonight, he was your JD, and you were scared shitless that when your lips hit his in a stage kiss that was supposed to have so much fire it set the stage ablaze, it might feel a little bit too real.

So the world’s unfair

Keep it locked out there

In here it’s beautiful

Let’s make this beautiful

Eddie- JD- gazed at you with all the wonder and adoration of a man on his knees for a generous god. His head shook gently, bewildered by his luck as he delivered the next line. “That works for me.”

Then your lips were on him, and for a second you let yourself pretend he was kissing you back and not Veronica. His mouth was warm, his hands hungry as they roamed over your clothes and subtly squeezed until you felt your blazer’s polyester pucker.

When you pulled away for your high note, you gazed into his eyes and saw nothing but truth looking back at you. That fire you’d been feeling all this time was reflected in his eyes tonight. Sure, maybe it’s the stage lights. Maybe he’s just a really good actor. Maybe you’re fucking obsessed with him- but whatever it was, you felt wanted in those eyes. So yeah, you let yourself believe it. You let the script burn you alive.

Full steam ahead,

Take this dead girl walking

Let’s break the bed,

Rock this dead girl walking

You were drunk on the awe in his gaze, the way he looked up at you like he wasn’t sure if you’d really just barged in through his window to ride him until he was a broken mess, or if you were a fantasy his mind had conjured to fuel his desire to belong to someone who would cherish all he had to give.

Again, Eddie was a talented actor. You knew that was his interpretation of how his character felt about your character. Still, you let yourself fall into the script as you straddled his tense, shirtless body, his abs crunching under the blue stage lights in a way that made you salivate. You wondered what your spit would look like on his skin.

You were far too horny to be professional. At least you weren’t so far gone that you couldn’t remember your blocking.

No sleep tonight for you,

Better chug that Mountain Dew

Your heart fell into your core upon hearing Eddie’s whimpered ‘okay, okay’ in character, needy and submissive beneath you.

Get your ass in gear,

Make this whole town disappear

His eyebrows pulled together, voice stronger and raspier as it ripped from his chest. ‘Okay, okay!’ His fingers snuck underneath your skirt, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your ass. You wished it was real.

You eyed him like a predator eyes a kill, determined to stay in his head until he needed you for real. You ran your palm over your cheek, brought your other hand up to fist in your hair, and pretended both hands were his.

Slap me,

Pull my hair,

You grabbed his wrists forcefully, bringing them up one by one to grope each of your tits.

Touch me

There (left tit)

And there (right tit)

And there

To punctuate the final syllable, you couldn’t stop an involuntary writhe of your torso into Eddie’s hands as he grasped your white button down (which was actually a snap-up) at the chest and pulled hard, simultaneously pinching your nipples through your bright blue bra and ripping open your blouse to showcase the swell of your chest for the whole audience to see. You didn’t notice them, though- you noticed the way he looked at your chest like it was the second coming of Christ. You witnessed that fractional widening of his eyes, the way he was entranced by every move you made as you writhed in his lap.

And no more talking

Love this dead girl walking

Eddie’s voice was lightning in the wake of thunder, bright and jagged and beautifully raw with power as he crooned a harmony to your lead as the song drew to a close. This song wasn’t an easy one to sing; had you not been so distracted by how it felt to have Eddie’s hips between your thighs you might have been nervous that you’d flub your high notes- but you didn’t. In a moment of sheer improvisation you did what just felt right, and that meant grabbing Eddie by hair at the base of his neck and wrenching his head back as you rolled your hips into his.

You knew your blocking was to arch your back away from him, but instead you brought your face close enough to his that it’s possible his mic picked up your perfect, clear falsetto as you pleaded, ‘Love this dead girl walking’ with the cadence of a lover asking, begging their beloved ‘don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop’. Eddie’s eyes registered your improvisational choice, and maybe you imagined it but behind those big brown button eyes he seemed to come alive with you, sitting up even further and digging one hand into your soft, hot skin while the other flexed against the stage floor to keep him balanced. His little ‘whoa, whoa, hey, hey, yeah yeah’s were short and breathy, sounding more like moans and whimpers as he rolled the sturdy bones of his hips into you as you matched his rhythm.

If you closed your eyes, you could pretend. If you didn’t have blocking to follow, you might have kissed him again, might have bitten his lip, might have reached for his belt buckle with reckless abandon and let a summer’s worth of pining win over in your mind. Instead, you channeled that passion into the way your hips ground into him with the fervor of a woman with nothing to lose.

Together the two of you finished out the song with heavy breaths and belted lyrics. You writhed. He thrusted. ‘Love this dead girl,’ your voices intertwined in a desperate dance for release from the tension between you that, at some point, had grown thick as two oak trees planted near enough to forget where one ends and the other begins.

‘Yeah!’

Your hand on his chest splayed out over faded ink. Your hips swiveled against his groin.

‘Yeah!’

His hand fisted in the plaid fabric of your skirt. That wasn’t in the blocking- had they added that? Was this improv?

‘Yeah!’

Using the grip on your skirt, he tugged you further into him as his hips bucked up just enough to bounce you on his groin and shake your exposed cleavage. Without thinking, your hand flew into his hair, grasping the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and tugging sharply back. You weren’t supposed to do that.

‘Ow!’

It wasn’t supposed to be a moan, but that was definitely what you would call the sound you pulled from Eddie’s mouth. A soft yet sharp, breathy moan that existed somewhere in the valley between pleasure and pain and definitely sounded more sexy and less funny, which is how it was supposed to sound. You saw Eddie’s eyes go wide as he too came to this realization.

No matter; if you played it off, no one in the audience would know the difference. You let go of his hair and flung your hand into the air above you, reaching for heaven and belting out your last ‘Yeah’ into the stage lights that lined the rafters above you. Your back arched, and you felt one final push of Eddie’s pelvis into yours, weaker this time as he too came down from the endorphins that ravaged every thought in both your mind and his.

Taglist (people I've been talking to about this since the idea spawned): @ghost-proofbaby, @the-unforgivenn, @munson-blurbs, @hellfire--cult

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #heathers the musical #veronica sawyer #jason dean #eddie munson #Spotify

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averytirednerd · 3 months

Text

Oh yeah, time for a big rant about Hazbin Hotel!!!

I haven’t really had much of a chance to sit down and write about this since I watched the episodes, so things I say are probably going to reflect what others have said. I’m just writing this to gush about the things I love about some particular songs in HH.

I didn’t have any big expectations going into the first episode, because I’d mostly heard negative reviews of the show so far. I had heard that the songs, however, were bright spots, so I really looked out for the songs and listened in every time we were graced with one. The characters are truly the best versions of themselves whenever there’s a song going on, even if they aren’t the main focus of the song. It’s amazing to see, especially since my favorite thing about this show is the characters themselves.

My favorites are “Loser, Baby” & “Stayed Gone” and will probably be the main focus of this post because <3333

“Stayed Gone” is sung by Christian Borle (Vox) and Amir Talai (Alastor) and I could not be happier about it. Their voices are amazing here, and my favorite bits of this song are on repeat in my head.

I also love little visuals like the mug Vox has in the talk show format, the scrolling text in the news show format, or Vox’s error message toward the end of their bantering.

(The scrolling text says: “I’m totally not worried about this guy and neither should you be. I totally wrecked his sh*t last time he tried me.”)

Alastor really gets under Vox’s skin and it makes me kick my feet every time. Their dynamic truly is everything, and I’m so excited we got this song that showcases it perfectly.

He clearly enjoys it too, what a little jerk.

Speaking of these two, Vox definitely had/has a thing for Al at some point, right? I mean…inviting him to the Vees for a start. Not to mention just the v i b e s. Poor guy though, it’s definitely one-sided.

I love Al’s use of…modern…lingo. Truly a spectacle. That on top of it being a reveal of Al’s rejection to Vox’s offer 💀 I love this man <333

Last thing about this song, promise, but also I love the casual little lore drops and more pieces to the puzzle of the past that we get. Very exciting! Can’t wait to see how everything fits together once we find more pieces.

Okay okay, moving on. “Loser, Baby” is amazing musically as well as visually.

First things first, I LOVE JAZZ OMG AND IT FITS HUSK’S VIBE AND EVERYTHING SO PERFECTLY???

Keith David’s voice definitely fits Husk in my eyes now, I see it, it works. He’s amazing. Does a fantastic job.

Not to mention Blake Roman’s performance was, of course, incredible as well.

The big, upbeat, brassy sound in this song is amazing and I’m loving the trumpet in it especially (any fellow trumpet players? no?)

I love everything about this song. The visuals, voices, instrumentals, lyrics, message, all of it!

Husk slowly going from “yeah you kinda suck lmao, but so do I” in order to not make Angel feel like he’s not being genuine, to sneaking in a better message of “we’re not perfect but it’s okay, don’t be so hard on yourself” (and getting Angel to believe/go along with it too!!) is amazing. It’s a perfect example of these characters being the best versions of themselves during musical numbers.

This song is what solidified Husk as number 2 in my rankings (and I’m sure I’m not the only one). I mean…just look at the way he moves, it’s so silly.

(We’re going to ignore the Videoshop watermarks, okay?)

Overall, I’m loving this show so far despite some obvious issues with pacing n such and an overall rocky start. Especially loving the songs, which I think kinda make the show rn.

If anyone wants to add anything (because I definitely didn’t cover a whole lot, just surface level stuff because even this took a while to type out) then please feel free to! Also ask me any questions you’ve got for me concerning stuff that has/will happen(ed) in Hazbin Hotel. I love HH discourse!

Thanks to those of you who read all the way through, sorry for such a long post lol <3

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babydollmarauders · 11 months

Text

SPARKS FLY — ETHAN EDWARDS

ethan edwards x fem!hughes!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which Ethan spends 4th of July at the Hughes lake house and becomes enamored with y/n Hughes

specific lyrics: “you’re the kind of reckless that should send me runnin’ but i kinda know that i won’t get far.” and “you stood there in front of me, just close enough to touch. close enough to hope you couldn’t see what i was thinking of.” and “i see sparks fly whenever you smile.” and “get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.” and “my mind forgets to remind me, you’re a bad idea.” and “lead me up the staircase, won’t you whisper soft and slow? ‘i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.’”

notes: happy 21st birthday to my bestie, ethan!! i’m so sorry this is so late, i just wrote all of this in like 2 hours and it’s not proofread, so sorry if it sucks.

“Luke! put me down!” my screeches prove futile when my twin looks down at me with a wicked grin.

“down? okay!”

before i can argue that whatever he’s planning isn’t what i meant, i’m dropped from the dock and into the cold lake water. my body stiffens at the feeling and i gasp before my head is submerged under the water.

i kick my legs and rise to the surface, gulping in throat-fulls of air as i smooth my hair out of my face, glaring up at my brothers and their friends as they laugh.

“you’re gonna pay for that.” i tell Luke, holding my hand up in waiting for him to help me back onto the dock. Luke takes a step back, eyeing me with caution. “really? you won’t even help me up?”

“i’ll help you.” i look over just in time to see Ethan step over to the edge. slipping his hand in mine, he pulls me up, helping me onto the wooden dock. i can’t help but let my eyes wander as i rise to my feet, mere inches from him.

god, he looks good shirtless.

shit, y/n, stop thinking like that.

i avert my eyes, rather focusing on the shivering of my body from the summer breeze hitting my wet skin.

“i’m, uh— i’m gonna go see if mom needs any help.” i tell the guys, awkwardly turning away and jogging up the path to the back deck. my father man’s the grill, flipping hamburgers, while my mother sits at the patio table, cutting up a couple watermelons.

“what on earth happened to you?” my dad chuckles, flipping a burger. i scoff, rolling my eyes. “i thought you were just tanning?”

“i was. and then your son happened.” i tell him, flopping down into a chair across from my mother who finally looks up to see me in my dripping state.

“gotta be more specific than that, honey.” she laughs. “we do have three of them.”

“the one i’m cursed to share 50 percent of my genes with.” i huff.

“ahh, yes, that one.” she muses, chopping into the last piece of watermelon before handing me a triangle. “what did he do this time?”

“he dropped me in the lake.” i say through a mouthful of fruit.

“why?” my dad chimes in, finally shutting the grill and taking a seat next to his wife.

“cause he’s insufferable? i don’t know.” i raise an eyebrow. “does he need a reason?”

“guess not.” he shrugs. i take another bite of watermelon, juice dripping down my chin. “but here they all come.”

my dad raises his chin to motion behind me and i turn my head to glance back, making direct eye contact with Ethan, who walks between Luke and Dylan.

my head snaps forward and i wipe the back of my hand across my chin, cleaning the watermelon juice off my skin. looking over at my mother, a smirk and a raised brow adorn her face.

“you sure that’s a good idea, honey?” despite her cocky expression, her tone is soft and gentle, careful not to hurt my feelings with her words.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” i feign obliviousness, grabbing a beach towel off the stack on the table before the boys can take them all. i wrap the University of Michigan towel around my shoulders, using one end to scrunch the water out of my hair.

“i saw that look, and the way you reacted to it.” my mom reaches across the table, laying a gentle hand on my forearm. “just be careful. make sure you know what you’re doing, because if Luke finds out you like one of his friends…”

“yeah, i know.” i sigh. how could i ever forget Luke’s ‘friends are off limits’ rule?

before either of us can speak again, i feel a set of hands come down on my shoulders, making me jolt in surprise.

Jack’s laugh bellows in my ears, my eyes rolling in annoyance as he finds hilarity in my surprise.

i watch as the guys pile onto the porch deck, grabbing towels from the stack and drying off to prepare for dinner. my parents make themselves scarce, heading inside to collect dinner necessities.

i’m pulled out of my thoughts when Ethan drops into the chair across from me, stealing a piece of watermelon from the bowl.

“maize and blue looks good on you.” he whispers, sending a wink in my direction before he gets pulled back into a conversation with Dylan, who takes the spot beside him.

blood rushes to my cheeks as i glance down at the towel draped over my shoulders, the colors in perfect contrast to my skin.

“y/n, honey?” i look up at my mother who stands at the head of the table.

“hmm? yeah?”

“could you run in and grab the pasta salad out of the fridge?” she asks me, sharing a knowing smile.

“coming right up.” i rise from my seat, dropping the towel back onto the chair so that my brothers, or even trevor, don’t take my spot while i’m gone.

i make my way into the house, pushing open the sliding glass door and rounding the corner into the kitchen. opening the refrigerator, i retrieve the large mixing bowl of pasta as well as a bottle of water, before closing the door.

i jump in surprise, as Ethan now stands leaning against the counter behind the refrigerator door, almost dropping the bowl.

“sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you!” he chuckles, a twinge of red coating his cheeks as he rubs at the back of his neck.

the sunset washes in from the window behind him, radiating him with a golden glow and i can’t help but notice the golden flecks in his green eyes. he looks so ethereal that my knees nearly go weak when i see him at full. water drips from his hair, dropping onto his bare chest and down his abs, and i’m only so strong, my eyes follow the droplets on their path, my lips parted as i take a deep inhale.

“uh- no- you’re uh- you’re good.” i tell him, finally pulling my line of sight back up to his face, where a cocky smirk is now placed.

“Luke sent me in to get the fireworks from the closet? but i don’t know what closet they’re in.” he replies. “there’s like 3 of them down here.”

i laugh, using my water bottle to point towards the closet underneath the stairs.

“they’re in there.” i inform him. “are we doing them after dinner?”

“yeah. i think it was like an unspoken vote? dinner, then fireworks, then bonfire.” he says, heading over to the closet and pulling out the large rubbermaid tub of fireworks. “jesus, do we really need all these?”

“it’s fourth of july, go big or go home, right?” i shrug, finally stepping back toward the glass door. “you haven’t experienced beauty until you’ve seen a Hughes fourth of july firework show.”

i turn toward the open glass door, making my way back out, but not before i hear him mutter to himself-

“pretty sure i experienced beauty the moment i saw you.”

my cheeks burn and i wonder if he meant for me to hear that or if he thought i wouldn’t, but regardless, the words make my heart race.

i sit back in my chair, watching on as Jack, Luke, and their friends light the fireworks before sprinting away to watch them light up the sky.

Luke, Dylan, and Mark hype Ethan up as he sets fire to the end of the fuse and jumps over the firework; waiting until just before the firework is about to go off in order to come running back up to the grassy patch where everyone sits. i roll my eyes at his recklessness, wondering just how stupid guys can be.

the reckless abandon in which he does things should have me running for the hills. i’ve never before been so enamored with a guy who does stupid things like these. and yet, just by looking at him, i know that i’m too far in now. the crush i’ve held for him for the past two years has blossomed into something more.

he smiles at my twin and his friends as they shake him and shout, hyping his stupid actions, and it’s like sparks fly when i see the beaming look on his face. and coincidentally, in that moment, purple fireworks light up the sky, shooting in every direction.

“i know that look.” i look over at my eldest brother, furrowing my brows at his words.

“what?” he rolls his eyes at my response, giving me a soft smile.

“don’t ‘what?’ me, y/n. i know that look. it’s the same look you used to give Matthew when he would come pick Brady up from the lake house when you were like, eleven.”

i laugh at his comparison. no longer embarrassed of the past crush i held on the older Tkachuk.

“and how would that look?” i ask him.

“like this.” Quinn attempts a faraway look in his eyes, batting his lashes and holding his folded hands up to his cheek.

“you asshole!” i giggle, pushing at his shoulder. “i don’t look like that! i have never done that!”

“okay, maybe not like that.” he relents, chuckling. “but you have that look of admiration and love. and i know what Luke says but… i say go for it.”

“what?” i’m shocked by his words, not used to being told anything other than ‘be careful’ and ‘you know Luke’s rule’.

“if you really think there’s something there? go for it. Luke will get over it. i promise.” he assures me, a soft smile on his face as he reaches out to hold my hand.

“but, just in case, i’d say maybe don’t tell Luke right away.” he tells me, pressing a peck to the back of my hand before he drops it, rising from his seat. “and here comes lover boy now.”

Quinn wiggles his eyebrows as he walks away, one hand gripping his beer as the other waves over to Jack and company.

i look over just in time to see Ethan, coming to a stop in front of me.

“Luke wants his Team USA hoodie.” he tells me. “he says you have it in your room.”

“oh, yeah, i have that. i’ll get it.” i stand from my seat, walking towards the lake house with Ethan following behind me. once we reach the porch deck, he jogs in front of me, opening the sliding door and letting me walk through first before he closes it again and fast walks towards the stairs, leading me up to my room.

he glances behind him every few seconds, as though making sure i’m still behind him, and i blush under his gaze.

finally reaching my bedroom, i open the door, letting him follow me in as i retrieve the USA Hockey hoodie off of my desk chair.

“here you go.” i spin around, ready to hold it out to him, but he’s already right behind me, a mere foot away.

“i lied.” he confesses, pushing the hoodie away.

“oh-”

“i just really wanted to talk to you alone. and i saw you wearing the hoodie yesterday, so i knew you had it and-”

“you don’t have to explain yourself.” i cut off his ramble, butterflies erupting in my stomach at the thought of him wanting to be alone with me.

“i don’t?” he furrows his brows as i throw the no-longer-needed hoodie onto my bed. i shake my head in response.

“no. i wanted to be alone with you too.” i admit, taking a step closer.

“oh, good! so i wasn’t reading you wrong? ‘cause if i was, you can just tell me to fuck off, i promise i won’t be hurt. i mean, okay maybe a little, but-”

“Ethan?” i chime in, stopping him from his nervous ranting.

“yeah?” he takes a step forward, leaving us close enough to touch.

“just kiss me, please?” at my words, he lets out a relieved sigh, nodding his head.

his hands come up to cup my face, pulling my lips to his in a quick but steady motion. our lips connect, his soft and tasting of the watermelon we were all snacking on as the fireworks went off. my hands snake around his neck, raking through the hair at the nape of it. i can feel him shiver as my nails lightly scratch against his scalp, and i smile into the kiss at the effect i’ve proven to have on him.

he pulls away, both of us sucking in a lungful of fresh air before he speaks-

“i’m captivated by you, baby; like a firework show.”

#speak now fic list #ethan edwards #ethan edwards x reader #ethan edwards imagine #ethan edwards blurb #umich hockey #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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svt-nari · 1 month

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seventeen reaction to ‘love wins all’ mv !

words: 2k-ish

a/n: not proofread!

nari laughed as she sat in front of the camera, the practice room lighting highlighting her features. the voices behind the camera wouldn’t stop teasing her, doing even more when s.coups joined her. you could hear their hollering from far, the twelve man causing a ruckus inside the big room – that felt far too small from their presence.

“our beautiful couple!~”, teased seungkwan with a following whistle from jeonghan, the others laughing and keeping the mess going.

“let’s just get it over with!”, nari whined. “sit down!”

just like baby ducklings they immediately followed up with her order and sat down behind the couple, politely smiling and waving at the camera.

“hi! we are seventeen!”, they introduced themselves.

“and today these doofus-“, she got many boo’s in response, giggling at it. “are going to react to my new music video… featuring coupsie!”, she smiled at him.

the action caused an even bigger reaction from the other men, the couple rolling their eyes as cheol shushed them to finally start their task at hand.

the production crew got the laptop and table all set in front of the group, nari admiring their moment as they seemed unbothered by the cameras and just kept their normal daily lives. the staff told them to start and nari prepared herself mentally for all the teasing she would get for the rest of her life after this.

“so, let’s play!”, nari pressed the button and the video started.

the clip starts off with the couple running from a flying cube, they were in a forest and desperate to get away from it.

“wait,” dino started, making nari pause the video. “what does that cube means?”

nari smirked and unpaused the video, “you’ll have to watch the whole thing to figure it out!~”

“aigoo!” seungkwan pouted, “you are both bruises up.”

the video continued with the square going over a building, nari tapping cheol’s chest and motioning with her head towards somewhere.

“why did they put a caption there?”, jun wondered. “you can’t talk because of the cube?”

“well,” cheol started, looking over at nari who shook her head and smirked at him. “can’t tell you, you’ll figure it out later. promise.”

as the video kept going, the couple soon entered a building. at that moment, the first melodies of the song started to play.

“wait!”, dokyeom screamed. “why is hyung’s eye blue? are you blind!?”

the couple just snickered and cheol nodded, “yes, i am blind of that eye. later it will make more sense.”

everyone just nodded and turned their attentions back to the video, being even more interested now to find out the reasons behind what they saw in those first seconds.

“why is there a pile of clothes there?”, wonwoo asked silently.

nari shrugged and gave him a quick look, mouthing ‘you’ll see later’ to him.

in the video, the couple was seen quickly hiding as the cube appeared up im the sky through the glass ceiling. they looked shaken up by it.

“this is all so confusing…”, dino scratched his head, nari cooing and ruffling his hair slightly.

as soon as nari’s voice played through the devide with the first lyrics of the song, all chaos broke out, making her have to pause the video once again.

“woah, miss nari~”, jeonghan teased her, mocking her. “dearest darling!~ who was it for, huh?”

the woman just shook her head and hid her face in her hands, everyone still teasing her just from the first lyrics of the song.

“everyone’s quiet and ready?”, she asked them after a few minutes, receiving positive responses from everyone. she unpaused the video.

in the mv cheol was seen picking up an old camera, quickly bringing it over to his good eye and pointing it towards nari. as soon as he saw her through the lens, everything seemed brighter and better than their actual world.

“wait!”, joshua started, the video pausing again. “why did the camera change his view of you?”

nari sighed and smiled, “well, that camera is basically the world before it was ruined and behind the camera is their present. the lenses are basically the filter of love, as it shows the beautiful things in the world beyond the appearance of someone or somethings.”

“woah, you just memorized it all?��, mingyu looked at her.

“no,” she laughed. “i was the one who suggested it, so you could understand that the physical appearance doesn’t mean anything.”

the hummed and nari clicked play once again. as she put the camera to her eye and turned to see him through it, cheol wasn’t blind anymore.

“so for you the fact that he is blind means nothing because you focus rather on his inner beauty?”, minghao asked quietly.

“yes, hao,” she answered. “because it doesn’t matter to me.”

“this is so heartbreaking and adorable at the same time…”, seungkwan sniffed. “you touching his face while looking through the camera because it makes it all look all right rather than reality…”

cheol quickly latched his hand on nari’s, giving it a squeeze. the woman smiled at the action and unpaused the video with her free hand.

the video resumed and the couple appeared sitting together in a table, with cheol using the camcorder to see nari eat in the ‘alternate reality’ while she only could pretended to eat in real life. after pretending, she started to use sign language to communicate with cheol, which made the video be paused again due to collective gasps being heard from behind the couple.

“you are deaf?”, vernon mumbled. “that’s why you didn’t speak and they used the captions?”

“yeah,” nari replied. “not only that but i’m also mute in that universe.”

“oh my god…”, seungkwan breathed out. “this is making me emotional.”

the boys agreed with him, turning their attention back to the laptop. nari quickly clicked play again.

the video showed her with the camera now, using it to see cheol pretending to eat. as she got up to clean his mouth, they suddenly were in the world inside the camera. the couple used that to eat and have fun, the little moment making them forget about the harsh reality behind the camera. while they had fun, the people behind them wouldn’t stop bugging and judging them, but they didn’t care about that — only about one another.

in the next scene they were in a clothing store, soon after appearing in wedding fits. nari with a beautiful dress while cheol had a tuxedo on, smiles on their faces as they were in a photo booth. still in the love filter world.

“you two looked so happy in that reality,” hoshi sighed.

“and the lyrics are so deep, it fits more with the video than i thought…” woozi said softly.

nari only smiled at that, watching the video while imagining their actual wedding – specially now that cheol was dismissed from enlisting due to his injury.

as the photos in the mv came out, instead of being ‘okay’ like in the love filter, they were bruised up like in the real world. cheol with his blind eye and nari still mute and deaf, but looking happy because they still had each other.

the pillow fight scenes and them on the stage singing made everyone smile, thinking how much this resembled the two in real life. as the couple got closer to sing in the mic, everyone ‘ooh’ed teasingly, the couple turning red from this.

in the middle of their fun on stage, the cube suddenly appeared in the restaurant’s door. the love filter disappearing as they ran away from the cube.

seungkwan sniffed. “why did it have to appear now!”

“why is this cube so annoying?”, jeonghan whined.

as the video showed through the cracked wall, everyone gasped at the sight of the many floating cubes and the destroyed city, together with the lyrics ‘destroy me slowly and chilly, ruiner’.

nari paused the video. “i don’t know if you guys got the message yet, but did you understand why we were running from the cube?”

most of them shook their heads to the girl, eager to know about the video’s villain.

“i won’t tell you just yet!”, they all whined. “but in the end i’ll talk about it.” and with that she unpaused the video.

the video came back with the couple in front of the clothes pile and the cube in front of them, nari had a bar in her hands which was quickly taken from her by cheol; who tried to destroy it but couldn’t. he ended up falling down and nari followed suit, holding him close to her as he held her hand in his chest. the couple knew there wasn’t any escape left for them, just accepting their fate and watching their last moments together.

“pause this! i need a moment!”, seungkwan mumbled. “i know this is not real, but seeing you two like this maked me so scared, noona.”

the woman got up slightly to hug him, comforting the boy with her words and actions.

“did you two just accept your fate then?” jun asked her while holding onto his chair.

she nodded, getting away from seungkwan to sit down again. “yeah, we are just accepting it now.”

with this they decided to watch the rest of the video without pausing anymore, just so nari could finally explain it to them.

as the cube turned red, nari looked down to cheol and covered his good eye with her hand so he wouldn’t watch it happening. the boys could all feel their eyes turn a bit glassy from this, some even shedding a tear or two. as the cube got closer they just held each other tighter, nari watching it all unfold in front of her face. before anything could happen the camera focused on the camcorder on the ground, which captured the couple’s last moments together — their feet slowly floating away from the ground as the cube slowly killed them. the camcorder turned black and slowly their clothes fell on top of the many other clothes on the pile.

“this was so sad…”, mingyu pouted.

“just remembering it makes me sad.” chan frowned.

“sorry for this then,” nari sheepishly replied. “i wanted something deep to represent the lyrics. i wrote them a long time ago, around 2021. it holds a lot of meaning to me and i wanted to release it when i was sure i was gonna have my happy ending.”

everyone nodded at her words, some of the boys pouting as they though back on the lyrics. they all knew she wrote it for cheol during their early start in the relationship as he had been by her side since the beginning. it all made so much sense to anyone who knew just a bit of their story, specially to those who understood what she meant by the ‘happy ending’ as they were going to get married.

“but what about the cube?” hoshi asked her.

“the cube is the discrimination going after everyone,” she sighed. “remember that i was deaf and mute while cheol was blind? well, the cube wanted us because we ‘didn’t fit’ and we just didn’t care about that part. we love each other and that’s enough to make us just ignore that.”

“that’s so deep…”, vernon sighed.

after he said that there was a silence, no one saying anything, just nodding. it was broken by nari’s giggles, which turned into a fit of laughter from everyone.

“caratdeul!~”, nari cooed to the camera. “thank you for watching! “

“yeah! hope you liked our acting this time!”, cheol smiled.“we were…”

“seventeen!”, everyone chorused. “bye bye!”

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bordysbae · 1 year

Note

going to stagecoach with trevor!! bunch of pda and fluff😪😪😪😪

“concert buddy”

trevor zegras x f!reader

“hi love,” trevor smiles, coming up behind you in the airbnb mirror.

“hi trev,” you blush, leaning your body closer against his chest. once you readjust part of your outfit, you turn around and look up at trevor. you both share a small smile, before you slightly pull down on his cowboy hat as you lean up to kiss him.

“ew guys get a room!” jamie scoffs, making cam york laugh.

“sorry you’re lonely, jimbo. you and cam can third wheel together,” you shrug before giving trevor a small peck on his lips. you then grab your phone from the table, and place the baby pink straw cowboy hat on your head.

“you guys ready to get going?” cam asks, and you all nod in response. you guys then hop into trevor’s bronco, that the four of you used to drive down to palm springs. the festival is already packed with people wearing cowboy hats and boots, making you let out a little laugh. you were never very big on country until you met trevor, but now you’re not really opposed to it since both jamie and trevor have conditioned you to it.

“okay guys cmon hurry up, i wanna see luke bryan!” you exclaim. everyone gets out of the car, and you all meet up with a few other friends before heading into the music festival. as you drag the group towards luke bryan’s set, trevor wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer into him.

“i’m happy you came with me, thank you for coming. i know you’re not that big on country.” he says, making you smile up at him.”you know, i don’t hate it anymore,” you bashfully say, making trevor gasp. he immediately turns around to face jamie, excited to tell him the news that him and his best friend have finally convinced you that country isn’t so bad.

“jimmy! we did it!” he cheers, taking his arm off of you and rushing over to pushy jamie around at the exciting news. jamie looks utterly confused as to why trevor is jumping around in joy, meanwhile you’re hysterically laughing.

“the hell is going on with you stop jumping all over me!” jamie laughs.

“we did it jimmy! y/n doesn’t hate country! she said she likes it!” he says, and jamie’s mouth drops.

“i knew the day would come! i think it’s partially because of me, you know, my amazing guitar skills convinced her,” jamie shrugs. you and trevor both exchange a glance, before bursting out laughing.

“yeah okay jamie, you keep telling yourself that,” you laugh, before claiming your spots in the dirt waiting for luke bryan’s set to begin. you and the group chat for majority of the waiting time, meanwhile you and trevor just can’t lay off from the pda.

his hands find their way all over your body, from placing a hand on your lower back, to even lower than that. you two are such a touchy couple sometimes, that you get wrapped up in each other constantly and forget that you were in a conversation. “uh hello, earth to trevor i asked you a question,” cam says, waving a hand in between you and trevor’s conversation. you blush with embarrassment, but let it go as you see no one giving it a second thought. everyone’s used to it by now. eventually the singer comes out, and you begin singing your heart out. luke bryan is one of your favorites, and he’s headlining stage coach so you know the show is bound to be good.

as the intro to ‘drunk on you’ begins playing, you immediately gasp and turn towards trevor, and the both of you begin singing the lyrics to each other. as the chorus begins, trevor points to you and you point to him, shouting the lyrics at each other with nothing but big grins across your faces.

“girl you make my speakers go boom boom, dancin' on the tailgate in the full moon, that kinda thing makes a man go mmm mmm, you're lookin' so good in what's left of those blue jeans”

as trevor sings the blue jeans lyric, he gestures to your bootcut jeans that are tightly hugging your legs, and you blush and hide your face in your hands. a bit later the set ends, and you all make your way towards another set. as you’re walking next to jamie, trevor comes up behind you and throws you over his shoulder. “trevor stop!” you laugh, and he just smiles.

“wanna go on my shoulders instead?” he asks you, and you hit his back as your form of saying yes. he places you down and squats, allowing you to get on top of his shoulders. the height difference between you both makes it a lot easier, and now you’re able to see a lot more than you were before. you all collectively decide to head to riley green’s set, and manage to get a spot not too far away from the stage seeing as you all got there a little bit early.

the chorus to ‘there was this girl’ starts, and trevor immediately begins singing the lyrics to you again, making you laugh. of course you sing back, but the lyrics to this song are bit more relatable from trevor’s perspective.

“there was this girl, drink in her hand. shootin' me a ‘let's get into trouble’ grin, i ain't never seen somethin' so fine. and I was doin' anything to make her mine. i was out of my mind, she was out of this world, there was this girl”

you and trevor relate heavily to this part of the song, seeing as you both met at a party late last year. of course jamie jokingly gives you both dirty looks, just because you both are singing the lyrics to every song while somehow finding a way to touch each other.

later on, you all eventually decide to call it a night after hours of being there. you end up falling asleep in the bronco on the way back to the airbnb, forcing trevor to carry you inside. you get settled down into bed and trevor goes to play some ping pong with the boys, before joining you in the bed as well. as you groggily cuddle into him, he presses a gentle kiss into your hair.

“goodnight y/n, i’m really happy you came with us to stagecoach. i love you, thanks for being my concert buddy” he chuckles, making you smile.

“i love you more, trev,” you mumble into his chest before falling back asleep.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras blurb #trevor zegras imagine #hockey blurb #hockey imagine #jamie drysdale

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 2 months

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Morning Things (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: It’s another morning in Eddie’s room, just a slice of peace before you have to face the world.

AN: Found an old Eddie fic in my OneDrive back when I still fancied him/liked Stranger Things lmaoo, might as well post it.

Reader is gender neutral, no use of Y/N.

Masterlist

You didn’t realise that you were being greedy when you first woke up. As you rolled over to your back, you found your body was bundled up in the double duvet, which you sent sprawling out as your legs and arms stretched out across the span of the boxspring bed. A distinct dip cradled your head, between the two pillows that assigned sides to you and your boyfriend. Cracking open your eyes revealed the ceiling - the only dull wall in this room.

It was like rolling to see the posters popping off their paper roused your other senses. You felt the entire duvet around you with no tug of war from Eddie to retrieve his fair share. No contact was made no matter where your hands reached.

The twang of a beloved electric guitar caught your ears. No amp powering its usual timbre, its strings pinged against Eddie’s calloused fingertips before pausing. The man was down to his boxers, his instrument balanced across a bare thigh, and a sleeveless shirt hung off his shoulders to expose most of his tattoos to the break of dawn. Eddie placed his pick between his lips, swapping it with the pen already in there so he could scribble in his song book in front of him. He hummed the tune as he scribbled. He began mumbling then some semblance of lyrics emerged through half-closed lips before he flipped back to his pick to strum again. Once he’d repeated the tune, he experimented with a new sequence but winced, shaking his head with his mop of hair following behind.

Groggily, you managed to say, “Morning.”

The second Eddie laid his eyes on you, he dropped the pen from between his teeth, threw off his guitar, and dropped his pick onto his open song book.

“Oh, I was enjoying that,” you complained pathetically.

Completely disregarding what you said as he crawled over you, Eddie’s nose nudged up against yours.

“Good morning, sweet thing,” he grinned whilst he balanced over you.

After stretching up, you rested your arms around his neck and anchored Eddie into the bed, half laying atop you.

“What were you playing?” You sighed against his neck.

“Just mucking around, throwing some bits I’ve been thinking of together. Seeing if they mesh.”

“And do they?”

“They’re starting to align.” Eddie rolled over onto his back, bringing you with him as he gestured above you, “I gotta encourage them to get their shit together a little more before I can show you.”

“Can’t fucking wait,” you said into the ticklish tips of his curls.

Eddie kissed the crown of your head, “You gonna get up?”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“You inspire me no matter where you are. From lying here in my bed,” He waved grandly to wear his feet almost hung off the end, “To perched at the end of it.” You let out a close-mouthed giggle, invoking Eddie to do the same and allow those dimples to peep out of his cheeks, his hand crossing behind your back and squeezing you as he said, “So, you got places to be?”

“Nowhere but next to you.”

“Does that include the bathroom?”

“You wanna shower together again, after what happened last time?”

“I was thinking more like pooping together.”

Hiding in his neck again, you groaned, “Eddie.”

“I feel like we’re at that stage in our relationship.”

“Nothing like communal shitting to inspire your next big hit, I guess,” and you pushed up a little, “Wanna stay here a bit longer first.” To sweeten the deal, you squashed his left cheek with your lips, smacking them loudly when you slumped back down into him.

Accepting the bribe, Eddie tightened his grip around you and said serenely, “I can make time for that.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #my writing #wc: <1k+#r: gn

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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— musician eren! 💭🖇

he loves when you’re in the front row of any of his concerts. seeing the bright smile of yours brighten his entire mood and the glimmer of his initials around your neck gives him a boost of energy. One thing is for certain, Eren gives you a certain look when fingering playing his guitar. you knowww what he’s doing and he knows. obviously he knows, sick fuck but regardless of when and where Eren will give that look. Hopefully you’re ready for what’s in store after the concert.

I swear this is the only thot that will be in my head for the rest of the week. Thank you for this 😵‍💫🧎🏾‍♀️cause let’s talk about it.

cw: mentions of fingering, dirty talk, sexual content

(Y/N), always sitting pretty; front row at your man’s performances and having the time of your life, turning up to his music. You were always a big fan but now it all hit so differently. Knowing that he’s gotten much more confident and enthused while on stage because of your presence. Being blatantly aware that his sexier joints are inspiration directly drawn from his late night son the tour bus with you and when you first started hooking up. Even diving head first into the chaos of the mosh pits that break out during his more amped up joints. With the protection of his fans and security of course!..either way, you always have a good time. Constantly getting shoutouts and showered with love by his loyal supporters because their fave is so much happier after years of avoiding the spotlight and you’re to thank. You’ll wear the cutest, sexiest outfits..bouncing around and having a ball. He can see you from the corner, shouting his lyrics louder than fans who’ve been around since his early days. You were undoubtedly the biggest motivator for his best work. Especially when he sees that glistening Cuban Link with his initials around your throat and you making eye contact with him. EJ absolutely adores when he catches you singing his more hardcore songs about guns, violence and drugs..it’s so hot to him, he especially for such a beautiful woman to say such vulgar things. But his favorite part of the show..is when he gets to play an instrument. Always assigning a song to the setlist that requires it. Whether it be piano, sax or whatever, he could do it all! On this particular night, he chooses the electric guitar for a slower song that he wrote one night while working late, all with his special lady in mind. “I just wanna play a lil’ something for y’all real quick. Hope you don’t mind.” In actuality, it’s for his own gratification because what the other thousands of filling this venue right now are unaware of, is that as soon as they’re gone and he gets you to himself, he’s going to have a little private show of his own..

one that requires you sitting on his lap with your legs spread as he sinks those digits knuckle deep into you, all while making you keep eye contact. And the second you see him sitting on that stool, instrument propped on his knee and he starts singing into the microphone..he just knows it won’t be long before you fold. Those eyes fixated on you as he sings about making love and putting you on top of him. The mood in the building has entirely shifted. Truly showing off not only his versatility but his ability to shift the atmosphere like that. Honestly, it’s because he couldn’t think of anything other than those fingers picking at those strings being sank knuckle deep into that pretty pussy..whimpering as you straddle his lap. Casually strumming through those notes and you can’t help but imagine those very movements inside of you. Which it didn’t take you long to catch his subtle hints; the narrowing of his gaze solely on him, a half cocked smirk on his face and his bottom lip tucked gently between his teeth. It’s so sexy and a signal that he’s going to rearrange those pretty little insides when he gets out of here! Bidding the crowd adieu after his last ballad.

“Thank you, (city name). Hope y’all have a good night..I know I will.”

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scekrex · 11 days

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Ok.

Adam X Male Reader (ofc).

But.

Reader erotically dances or just pole dances in revealing clothes for Adam to get off to.

While music blasts in the background.

Okay so the song I chose for this fic is 'Shut Me Up' by Mindless Self Indulgence bc I thought it fits, the cursive written shit r the lyrics blasting in the background.

Make me cum

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, pole dancing, sexual dancing, lap dancing, hand jobs

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

The bass, the rock, the mic, the treble / I like my coffee black just like my metal

Adam’s golden eyes were glued to your body, in admiration he watched as you moved your body ever so fluently, so smoothly. There you were, kneeling on the floor as you thrust your hips up into nothing but air and the brunette did not understand how you managed to make something simple as thrusting your hips up into nothing look so fucking sexy. In a fluent motion you got up from the floor, with a look in your eyes that made Adam feel hunted, that made you look like a predator who just spotted his prey. You stepped closer to the first man, rounded the armchair he was sitting on, then stopped behind him. Your hands grabbed his shoulders firmly and you pulled the backrest of the chair flush against your barely covered chest, that caused a surprised yelp to fall from his lips and the back of his head hit your sternum. Hazy eyes looked up at you, hazy eyes filled with lust and desire and yet they managed to hold so much love for you as well. The hand on the first man’s dick stuttered as your breath hit his ear and you whispered, “Enjoying yourself?” Because fuck yeah, he was enjoying himself, he was enjoying the show you gave him even more though. He wanted to grab you by your waist, pull you in, bury his dick deep inside you and push you over the edge with him - but you had made it clear that if you were to give him a dance like that, a show even, he was not allowed to touch you in any form or way, the only person allowed to touch were you.

‘Cause I can’t wait for you to knock me up / In a minute, minute, in a fuckin’ minute

Your hands roamed over his chest, lightly pulling Adam’s chest hair, you drew a delicious sounding moan from the brunette and he arched his back in such a pretty way for you, it was truly a shame that this would get him nowhere today. Because today he was at your mercy, he would cum when you allowed him to and not just verbally, this time you had to physically push him over the edge first, the only assistant Adam had was his hand, the rest was yours to take care of. And let’s just say that you knew quite well what you were doing. “Fuck, Y/N,” the brunette breathed out heavily as his eyes locked with yours, the wicked grin on your lips was something he wasn’t quite sure if he liked yet but when your hand covered the hand he had wrapped around his dick, when you squeezed lightly, he lost the strength to keep his eyes open for any longer.

I can’t wait for you to knock me up / In a minute, minute, in a second

The music that was blasting through your apartment was loud enough to swallow Adam’s moans for the public - especially for those fucking noisy kind of neighbors you had, but not for you. You heard every little sound he made. You withdrew your hand from Adam’s erection as quick as you had been to wrap it around the first man’s hard on, making the brunette whine at the loss of friction. Adam was used to teasing, he had been your boyfriend for a fucking while, of course he was used to teasing, but there had never been teasing without an reward so whatever it is that was happening, Adam wasn’t able to wrap his mind around it fully. The only clear thought that his mind was capable of producing was ‘Get him in your lap and fuck him mindless’. And he wasn’t very subtle about his thought as his hands reached behind him, clawing on your shoulders, trying to get a proper grip on you so he could lift you over his shoulder and get you to sit in his lap, his brain had completely forgotten about the no touching rule you had made so clear in the beginning. He had been created to reproduce, it was in his nature to get his dick wet - at least that was what the leader of the exorcists kept telling himself.

I can’t wait for you to shut me up and make me hip like badass

You pulled away from his grip instantly, slapped his hands playfully to remind you of who was in charge of all of this. “No touching,” your voice sounded so firm, so dominant that Adam was quick to drop his hand. He wanted you to keep talking, wanted you to step into his view again and continue to dance for him, he wanted whatever it was you were offering and drown in it. So when he felt you stepping away from the back of the chair and you appeared on his left side, he thanked God for listening to his wishes. “If you touch me again, I’m off of you for good. No more dancing, no more touching. Then you simply won’t cum,” and the eager nod Adam gave your words was telling you all you needed to know, the man was desperate, too far gone to actually speak words, too far gone to disagree because he wanted to climax so badly, felt like he would die if you would deny him his orgasm. So all he could do truly was to agree to the words spoken by you.

I can’t wait for you to shut me up / Shut it up

You swung your leg over Adam’s and your naked asscheeks were quick to meet his bare thighs, the brunette’s head lulled backwards, hit the top of the armchair’s backrest as it did and a throaty moan fell from his slightly parted lips. “Touch me and all of this comes to an end, and trust me when I tell you,” you once again grabbed a hold of his shoulders, a harsh pull forced the first man’s upper body to collide with yours and he felt as if the air got knocked out of his lungs. You moved your hips a little, trying to find a position that was somewhat comfortable. That position was found when Adam pulled his hand off of his dick and his erection found its place right between your asscheeks. Good. “Holy fucking shitballs,” the brunette underneath you cursed under his breath as his eyes watched your every move. His hands had gripped the armrests of the chair and he was digging his nails into the soft fabric in order to keep himself from reaching out for your body. He wanted to touch you, to make you experience the same amount of pleasure you were giving him, he also wanted to simply lift you up and carry you over to the couch and fuck you silly. HIs mind was telling him to do all sorts of things to you that he knew you would like, but he wasn’t allowed to and you weren’t complaining about the boner in your underwear. So he remained seated and kept his hands to himself, even though that was fucking hard to do.

I don’t buy your body right now / I’m almost over my body right now

And then you started grinding your hips against his, you were giving him a lap dance. And Adam had to admit, he understood why people were barely able to keep it together during those, because he himself was struggling hard with the no touching rule you had laid out. It felt like torture and a blessing at the same time, though he was sure it would feel even better if he were allowed to grab your hips and guide them a little. This way the only active thing he was allowed to do was meeting your thrusts, matching your pace and watching you move your body in the most divine way Adam had ever seen. Because you didn’t just stop at simply moving your hips against his, no, that would be boring to do so. Like before, you were putting on a show for the first man, you stripped out of the bit of fabric that had been just long enough to cover your nipples and as soon as that was off you roamed your hands over your body in ways that you knew Adam would do. It was visibly driving the brunette insane and you had to admit that you liked teasing him so much more than you had thought you ever would.

I’m on my way to the party right now / I don’t buy your body right now.

And just when Adam thought you had settled for a position that you would stay in until he would eventually orgasm, you pushed yourself off his lap and went back to fully dancing for him. And don’t get him wrong, he appreciated your dancing, especially because you made it look so easy and sexy at the same time, but he also appreciated friction. Friction that you had just taken away from him without the slightest bit of a warning. A whine of your name fell from his lips as his eyes continued to watch you - it was this moment that he fully learned to like the pole you had convinced him to get installed a couple months ago, this was the first time he actively watched you using it. And holy fucking shit, your dancing before had been good, magnificent even, but seeing you poledancing? Yeah that was truly something else entirely.

I’m almost over my body right now / I’m on my way to the party right now

The brunette’s hand was back on his dick in an instant and you couldn’t hide the soft chuckle his quick reaction caused, not that you had tried very hard anyway. “C’mon big guy,” your voice sounded playful, inviting and yet taunting at the same time and the first man was so overwhelmed by everything going on that he found himself unable to respond. “Show me how much you appreciate my skills and my effort,” the taller male that was watching you knew that you just gave him the verbal permission to cum and while he would’ve loved to do so, he needed a little something to push him off the edge, just a little more than he was able to give himself. A little something of you, preferably.

Because the break, the break, the break

Your legs wrapped around the ple tightly as your hands let go, you bent your body backwards until your palms were pressed firmly against the ground. That’s when you untangled your legs and pushed yourself off the pole, stopping right in front of Adam. Your hand traced up his inner leg in a teasing manner and yet that was enough to cause the first man to fall apart completely. With a loud, throaty moan of your name, that sounded more like he was cursing you out if you were honest, he spilled his load and came undone. He covered his milky skin with the white fluid that kept spilling from his dick like he hadn’t orgasmed in weeks - which wasn’t the case at all. But Adam was simply the type of guy who would be able to fill buckets with his cum, God had created him to reproduce after all. “That’s my good boy,” you hummed with a sly grin on your lips and Adam simply turned his head away, facing the wall instead of you as he mumbled a weak, “Eat dick.” And usually you’d drop to your knees and do him the favor, but the first man seemed kinda spent at that moment so instead you gave him time to recover as your wings wrapped around the taller male to push him off the chair and into your arms.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Five

The thing is I absolutely love the album that comes out of this mess. Like I know a lot of people do not like Let It Be, but so many of my favorite songs are on it. One of them being “I Me Mine.” The walz element is haunting, and I can read the lyrics as anti-capitalist even though George himself mostly wasn’t.

Laughing my head off at two boys from one of the best grammar schools in England, who have at this point made millions off of their writing, genuinely not knowing whether it should be “more freer” or “more freely”

The difference in how George shows Paul his new song vs John is striking. For Paul, he’s relaxed, nonchalant. For John, he stands up and performs it. And I think both are a defense mechanism, poor baby, because clearly, although Paul was very supportive of the song while they were alone, when John is roasting it, Paul just laughs along and George has to go “I don’t give a fuck whether you like it.”

Ah, the famous “up-against-a-wall” conversation. Paul comes in all dominant and sure. “Haven’t you written anything else? Haven’t you?” But then John touches him, and makes him laugh, and Paul’s a melted, goo-goo-eyes mess. This is the real reason why John got to be the leader isn’t it? Because Paul was too damn soft on him to ever follow through with his bossiness.

Their scouse sounds BEAUTIFUL compared to the stupid ugly RP and MLH’s transatlantic shit.

“And now John’d like to say a few words on the subject.” John starts singing, Paul strums along and joins in on the “chorus.” They can’t communicate like healthy people, but they Can do this.

So Peter Jackson took out Paul’s bitchy nod at Yoko as he’s stealing her man in real time right in front of her eyes. Unforgivable. But he kept in this adorable laugh, so that’s something.

Three more covers that I think *mean something* “Stand By Me” and “Spinning Like a Top” by Paul, followed by “You Win Again” by John. Yoko’s sweet little shoulder kiss. Thank you for taking care of the poor wet kitten, girly. Maybe don’t introduce the poor wet kitten to heroine, but you do you, I guess. (OP recognizes that poor wet kitten is also an adult capable of making his own decisions)

The cut from Paul literally dancing to get John’s attention straight to John dancing with Yoko while inside Paul’s head a silver hammer is clanging ominously. I can’t. Followed by the knowing, loving smile from Ringo to Paul. You know, those moments when you validate your friend’s bitchy thoughts with a look.

George is literally SO big inside himself, you know? You have to have superhuman self-love abilities to watch your friend – who is supposed to be helping you – shamelessly make fun of your art . . . and just “Do you wanna do that walz on the show? That’d be great.”

But did you guys know John was actually a really great mover?

“Yes, alright. Just sod off.” I love John. Paul’s people-pleasing ass would literally die first and he needs John to do this kind of shit for him and John’s only too happy to.

The moment when Paul and John are on the same wavelength about Dennis O’Dell’s stage.

OK but. Did John get the clear plastic idea from Yoko’s art exhibits?

“Any time we do anything it’s always got to be the best.” Poor Ringo. They’re all literally so tired of carrying so much weight for such a long time.

“See, I’d watch an hour of him just playing the piano. Cause he’s so great.” With that fond, loving, smile. SUCH big dick energy here. The others could NEVER.

“And I’ll have the plastic when you’re finished.” Literally for what, though? John, you little hoarding goblin.

And then Ringo responding to MLH’s “I love you” with “Yes, I love you too.” Yeah, Ringo wins the prize for most healthy beatle of the day.

*Pattie Boyd voice* “I just wish I knew what was going on there. But something. Something.”

Ugh, John looks so hurt. So tender. So heartbroken. While Paul is over there playing a damn funeral march because that’s the only way he lets himself express anything. But I actually love how Dennis O’Dell knows the clearest path to cheering John up is to say that Paul liked his idea. And how well it works. They’re literally so obvious to everyone but themselves.

I love the bit when John walks in on the rest of them discussing the live show and MLH calls, “We’ve decided. We’re going to Africa.” And Paul hurries to cut in, “No we’re NOT.” Because he knows exactly how John can get and he’s going to nip this in the bud before John gets let down. And of course, John is all “YEAH LETS GO LETS GO!” And he’s talking about how they always wish they were recording abroad. “We could be in LA, or FRANCE.” (side eye emoji)

Paul’s “Well said, John.” and “I’ve seen it, John. I went to the premiere. I thought you were great.” Why do all your compliments to him have to be in silly voices? Like, I know you think everyone is going to call you a pussy for saying something genuinely kind to your best friend, but they’re not, and he needs it.

Holy shit this was a long day. See you all tomorrow with another long-winded-ass post.

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back

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venus616 · 2 years

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streets; {tasm!peter parker}

Pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader (writing challenge is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker if you so please)

Summary: and I can’t be without you, why can’t I find no one like you? (lyrics by doja cat, streets)

Part of @liz-allyn's 900th celebration! (congratulations btw <3) the prompt I chose to work with is "Not My Peter"; post no way home, tasm peter comes back to his home dimension with a new lease on life. problem is, another, identical peter parker is happy to take it for himself. that includes you.

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, dubious consent (dubcon), consensual non consensual (cnc), unprotected sex, morally gray, moral themes, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N (PLS READ): this is a dark fic, please do not read if you are uncomfortable with these themes being explored or believe it will trigger you :( I am not responsible for the media/fics you consume, so only open at your own risk! ty~

more here: the aftermath | the bet

You anxiously checked your phone for any texts from Peter, awaiting his return by the time you got back from work today. Sometimes you wondered if it was worth having Spider-Man as a husband, but twice as much when he was doing multi-dimensional travel semi-regularly. You know that he wouldn’t be able to reach you if he was still on a different earth or universe or-

Whatever he calls it. You find it difficult to keep up.

So the only signal you would get that he was okay is when he texts you that he’s back safe. You walk into your shared apartment with groceries, carefully taking out the chocolate milk to put in the fridge for him. You hear chimes behind you and feel a cold breeze as you bend over with the fridge door open, but know it wasn’t coming from your area.

You immediately turn around and see the white eyes of his suit staring back at you from the distance in the shimmery portal of a vague, typical New York rooftop.

When you see one, your eyes scan from left to right, and notice there’s two of them.

He also has explained the fact that there were Spider-Men, people (or anything) in countless universes to you before but you could never quite wrap your head around it. But, you remembered enough from those honest conversations to recognize that this was one of those cases.

They seem deep in conversation, but you couldn’t tell who was who as the suits and physical builds were identical. Both had the masks fully on and they shook hands, perched on the edge of the roof. But, one continues to glance at you during. You waved for whichever one was yours and got your answer as the second pair of bug eyes turned back around to run towards you, waving a peace sign to the other Spider figure.

As soon as Peter jumps back into your world, you wrap your hands around him, opening your eyes and catching the lifeless stare of the other Spider-Man before the portal closes.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Peter says, slightly muffled underneath his mask. You grin while nuzzling your head in the crook of his neck before responding.

“Good, I can’t afford to compete with the multiverse,” You feel his hand caressing your head, gently gesturing for you to look at him as he removes his mask. You instantly feel relief seeing him back with you, safe and not finding random injuries on him.

Your hands immediately reach for his face, running over every line and crease of his smile from his cheeks to his eyes.

“You’re always gonna be my number one priority. Remember?” Peter reminds you as he places his much larger hand over yours on his face, fingers pressed onto your ring.

It had been a little over a year since the actual wedding, and you don’t think you’d get over the fact that you married the love of your life.

“I love you,” You mutter, leaning into his personal space even more to kiss him. He accepts your advancement and kisses you back. His lips are chapped against your soft ones, but you love it all the same as the pressure he placed against them was so light. You almost lose your breath trying to reciprocate the softness he was providing you, dizzied when he echoes your words.

“I love you, too.”

Before you could even think, you laid beside Peter in bed, your hair disheveled while Peter’s just got even more messier than usual. The ache between your legs began to disappear as you hiked one knee across his legs and had your head resting on his chest.

He holds you close while his breathing steadies and your focus on his heartbeat.

“How was this one?”

Your fingertips trace his pectorals while his arms squeeze your body in his grasp.

He hesitates before starting.

“You know how I’ve met versions of myself before?” You nod, planting your hand on his chest before lifting your head slightly to look up in his direction.

“This guy was my twin.” Peter’s voice croaks hardly above a whisper. You only move to readjust yourself with your chin above your hands on his chest, laying down on your stomach to focus on whatever he’s about to say.

“Twin,” You repeat.

“Babe, it was like looking into a mirror,” He adds. There’s no punchline but his lips tug up at what he just said before chuckling humorlessly.

“But we’re so different. He said that he feels stuck, that he’s not pulling his punches anymore. So I was trying to cheer him up, but he’s in a tough spot right now.” Peter shakes his head as he recalls it, and you furrow your eyebrows listening to him.

“You look hung up about it,” You observe, concerned for Peter’s internal monologue. You know how he gets when he overthinks, and you know if he thinks he can help it, he’d be able to help everyone or fix everything.

“What if I can help him?” He admits, confirming your suspicions. You shake your head, before lifting yourself from his body, taking a loose sheet to cover your chest as you move up to face him.

“Maybe he doesn’t need your help?” You try to reason with him, not wanting to put himself at multiverse risk unless he absolutely needs to. It’s clearly important to him in more ways than you can ever understand because of how supposedly identical they were. You took Peter’s word for it but still, part of you couldn’t buy that this was his destiny to go help fix whatever part of his life that he’s in.

“You don’t know that,” Peter sighs, frustrated as he’s still wracking his head around the last encounter.

You can only imagine what they talked about.

“You don’t either,” You point out. Peter’s big brown eyes meet yours. Gentle, still tired from the mission but also from the welcome back sex, pleading you to indulge him into his matyrdom.

Peter clicks his tongue, more at himself than at you and you raise your eyebrow.

“Right.” He clarifies that it’s his thoughts that he’s criticizing.

The next 48 hours were calm but you could tell Peter was more distracted than usual, presumably about his other self.

You were getting ready for bed, taking melatonin to knock out as soon as possible after the long day you had. You slipped in the covers beside him, listening to his drawn out monologue about how it’s what's best and he’ll feel guilty if he doesn’t do it.

“But it’s not your responsibility,” You remind him in a sleepy voice as your eyelids get heavier. Peter scowls, your vision doesn’t catch it entirely but you know he doesn’t agree.

“Who would I be if I didn’t do anything to help myself?” You rolled your eyes at his sentiment.

“Pete, I know I’ll never understand but you have to move on, your life is here,” You readjust your head on the pillows as Peter turns over to fully get into bed. You’re suspicious of him as his suit is in direct eyesight of you both from the closet.

Peter is staring up ahead, probably not registering your pleas that his own life and responsibilities on the earth he’s from should be more important, also the fact that he shouldn’t be messing with the fate of another version of himself just because he feels obligated to help.

For a man who was so logical, his moral reasoning seemed to go out the window when you rationalized the importance of leaving other people’s decisions and lifepaths alone.

So much so that by the next morning, there’s an empty space next to you and his suit is gone. You stare at the empty hanger and let out an exasperated sigh with the note that was taped on your bedside table in hand.

“I’m sorry baby, I have to do this.

Just give me a few days.

Love you the most -Peter.”

This wouldn’t be the first time he ghosted you with only a note to explain, but he was going to get an earful from you by the time he gets back. You don’t know how you let him get away with as much as he does but you suppose those are the things that come with marriage. Marriage to a superhero came with an entirely different set of terms and conditions though.

It was day 5 of Peter’s moral-responsibility escapade and you were getting terrified. You felt bad for constantly asking Miles if he or anyone from the several other dimensions had heard of anything but he was kind enough to keep you updated with as much as he knew.

Of course, that meant the answer was always:

“No, sorry Mrs. Parker.”

You would sigh and hang up the phone.

It was exhausting, not having your husband around but also knowing he was quite literally not in your dimension.

You tried to do anything to alleviate your stress and imagined him eventually texting you that he’s okay and swinging home as soon as possible, knowing that it would only make you scared to imagine the opposite.

You were cleaning the kitchen, carefully taking off your wedding ring to put on the counter so it wouldn’t rip your gloves and silently hoped that whenever Peter came back, he would be safe and not trying to continue fixing other people’s lives.

That evening passes by painfully but while trying to block out the thoughts through a self care routine for the night, you realize that this isn’t the longest Peter had been gone. He should be fine and he’ll come back happier, regardless of the outcome knowing that at least he tried. He deserves to come back feeling proud for knowing that he did what he could rather than leaving it at that. However, he was definitely pushing it as it was already more than a few days.

You slip into one of your t-shirts that are really one of Peter’s and a pair of sleeping shorts, turning off the lights in the house until you hear a loud noise, like a pan's clattering in the kitchen. You’re afraid as you can’t be completely sure that it’s Peter coming back and that you very well could be in danger without him. You call out for his name and get no response.

Light on your feet, you tip-toe through the hall towards where the noise is coming from and see an illumination of the light on the floor, knowing that it is a portal. He’s been going in and out of them so long you recognized the patterns easily enough. You turn on the light in the kitchen and see his figure in his tattered suit, ripped revealing his bruised and bloody skin underneath.

You see that one of his gloves is hanging on by the seams, a wedding band tearing the fabric from underneath, blood decorating the silver.

Rasping out his name, your hands reaching for his hand with the ring. His fingers immediately intertwine with yours, almost trembling and feeling desperate.

His voice is low and guttural when he says your name, taking off his mask to reveal his face. You feel relief wash over you knowing that your baby is home again and hug him like you have so many times before. You hear him choking back a sob while his much taller frame is swallowing yours and cooed for him to relax, worried about what he saw in this dimension that’s warranting this reaction.

“It’s okay baby, you’re back home now,” Is what you repeat, running your hand over his back, careful not to touch his wounds.

You lead him back into the bathroom, slowly stripping his suit off in silence knowing that he’ll speak when he wants to. He was acting a bit standoffish, staring at you and mute. You didn’t know what to say or the right questions to ask, so you ran the rag under the water and started gently cleaning the blood off of him. His suit was strewn across the floor, and boots were standing upright by the tub. You were thankful he had a few extras in the closet before having to sew anymore.

Peter’s stare is empty, his brown eyes look black and he looks like he hadn't been sleeping since he left. You run your fingers across his cheeks softly as you always have but this time he flinches. You quickly remove your hands from his general bubble not wanting to alarm him as you’re still standing in between his legs as he’s seated on the edge of the bathtub.

You know he regrets it when he grabs your hand to bring his cheek again, staring at you from below through his wet eyelashes.

“‘M sorry bub,” He says it like he’s ashamed. You shake your head to reassure him, and can’t help but smile at the nickname.

“You haven’t called me that in so long. Since we first started going out,” You remind him, smiling wider as you recall your earlier memories with him. A blush creeps up Peter’s cheek but he begins to smile back. He wraps his large arms around the small of your back to bring you closer, his face nuzzling on your tummy before his voice perks up.

“Why did I ever stop?”

You shrug, placing his chin in between your fingers so you can make eye contact with him. “We grew up.”

Peter nods, smiling tiredly, “Right.”

He’s not acting much differently than he usually does when he first comes back, but he’s more injured than his past trips so you know that this time was different.

“What happened with your twin?” You ask as you’re kneeled on the tiled floor before him. You’re cleaning up his scratches with alcohol and cotton balls, discarding the red and pink stained ones in the trash next to you.

“Nothing,” He mumbles, wincing every time you run another cotton ball over a fresher gash.

“Doesn’t look like nothing, Peter,” You scold him for not telling you everything. Your hands remain on the top of his thighs when you stand back up, your shorts riding right below your hips when Peter takes the pleasure of raising your t-shirt to kiss your body.

You’re ticklish at the sudden affection, squirming underneath his sudden display of strength, lips and rough, calloused hands trailing all around your stomach until he stops. You catch your breath from the involuntary giggling he caused when he’s staring at your hips.

“Nine hundred and ninety-nine,” He comments, raising his eyebrow when you realize what he’s referring to. You snort at his confusion and the way he said it.

“You’re such a nerd, you know it’s nine-nine-nine.” You roll your eyes at his sudden awareness of your numerology tattoo. He scoffs with a smile, sighing at the sight of you. There’s a quiet pause and the silence lingering in the air.

“Do you remember the day we got it?”

Peter nods, but not without a favor. “Tell me, I’m already forgetting about it.” His grin widens.

You shake your head flashing a toothy smile at him. He returns one back. “It was only a few years ago. Did you hit your head on a portal the way back?” You try to joke at his lack of memory today.

He laughs along as you sit down on one of his thighs knowing he’d easily support your weight. You wrap your hands around his neck and stare longingly at him before recalling the memory. His stare is not as cold and distant as it was earlier, so you feel better around him again.

“I just like listening to you talk, of course I remember.” He explains.

You nod, failing to hide how good that made you feel. He readjusts his leg to hold you closer while your hands find their way in his hair again.

“The night we met, I just kept seeing 9’s all day. It was 9 on the dot when I walked into the place we were at 9th avenue, it was September, the temperature was like 90 degrees. It was too much of a coincidence.” You can tell you’re rambling so you look back up from the spot you were staring at to see if Peter was still listening.

Of course he was. He nods for you to continue.

“And when I told you this a few years later, I felt like I was meant to meet you because it was the start of a new beginning. 999 is the angel number for it,” He furrows his eyebrows and you shake your head again.

“Then you laughed at me because you’re such a geek and went on a tangent about probability,” You pause as Peter throws his head to the side, a small laugh escaping his throat from fake offense.

You also giggle but force yourself to continue, “But then you agreed, because of how important I became to you. I think we were on a date when I got a receipt telling you this and we were the 999th table served at that diner and then I said that this is our number, and you said we should get it tattooed.”

He hangs onto every word as you recount the memory, he cuts you off with the ending of the story. “So we did it that day.”

You nod, feeling a bit of relief.

Your head is laying on his shoulder when he finishes the story, thinking about how many times you’ve rehearsed this explanation of how you had a matching tattoo with your boyfriend before you guys became engaged.

“You tell it the best,” Peter interrupts your thoughts.

You nuzzle your head in his chest and he takes the opportunity to scoop your body up in his arms by wrapping his other arm underneath your leg to take you to your shared bedroom. You squeal in surprise begging him not to move so suddenly or else he’ll get blood on the sheets but he ignores your requests and eventually you do too.

When you’re making out with him, your back is pressed up against the bed feeling suffocated by the intensity and desperation of his kisses. You feel his erection through his boxers pressing up against your heat, just as frenzied for his touch as he is for yours. You moan in his mouth, eventually biting his lip when he tries to pull away to undress you as fast as he can. You’re only clad in your underwear by the time he’s pulling down his boxers but notice a difference.

Unsure if you’re seeing things you run your fingers over his skin on the right of his prominent v-lines and notice there’s not any remnants of swollen skin from your matching 999 tattoo with him.

“Peter?” Your voice is small, still laced with lust, unsure if you were overreacting or not.

Peter throws his boxers to the side, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand due to his swift strength while he uses his middle finger to play with your clit through your underwear.

“Fuck, I missed this,” He pauses, staring at your heat before meeting your eyes again. “I missed you so much.”

Your eyes narrow in confusion but it’s hard for you to focus on what he’s saying, not fully understanding but also trapped underneath his touch.

“You’re scaring me,” You whimper and it only translates as a moan, breathy as his fingers move faster with your wetness collecting onto them as he pushes your panties to the side. “I’m right here Peter, I’ve always been right here.” You remind him, thinking that he’s alluding to the past few days. In his defense, they did feel like forever.

Your arms struggle underneath his but you move involuntarily, feeling your cunt clench around nothing already. You moan his name on repeat, your breasts jiggling as your chest heaves up and down from his attention.

“I had you before,” He slips one finger in.

“And then I lost you,” Another finger enters.

Peter begins thrusting skillfully before you can think better of it. “I’m not risking that again.”

Your eyes widen at what he just said and the intensity at which his fingers are curling inside you.

You think about the lack of tattoo, the subtle difference in mannerisms since he came back and the fact that Peter had just left in search of an identical version of himself.

Feeling yourself become dizzy, the tightness in your stomach from the fact that you were about to cum mixed in with the fear and realization of the situation at hand. “Where’s Peter?” You choke out when he slows down, edging your high.

He looks up at you, leaning down on your frame to kiss your cheek. You shudder, lip quivering from the onset of tears about to spill out.

“I’m right here bub,” He whispers. Peter picks up the pace of his fingering and your legs close around his hand, not wanting him to go any further. He uses the hand that had been keeping your hands together to open your legs again to continue and you cum around him, sobbing silently at the nickname.

Your tears start to run on your face, salt streaking your skin. Your breath is uneven from the sobs and cumming simultaneously.

“Where’s my Peter?” You place emphasis on the my even though your voice feels like chalk in your throat. You use your hands to support yourself sitting up, trying to keep your legs together when he removed his fingers from your cunt. He shakes his head at the attempt to close access off from him and pushes you back down on the bed, gently as you both know trying to defend yourself would be futile.

You lay down in defeat, watching in shame how he wraps his legs around your waist while his hands are holding your arms above your head once again.

“You know that deep down, I’m him.” Peter's eyes are blown out with lust, his cock standing tall against his lower abdomen. Your eyes trail past this and to the absence of the tattoo and feel the fear making your body frozen again.

You close your eyes and shake your head as he leans down towards your face, trying your best to squirm underneath his body.

“I’ll do anything you want, just don’t do this,” You sob weakly, your chest feels as though it’s going to cave in. “You’re not him but you don’t have to do this, please,” You cry a bit louder, but not enough for anyone to hear you. You quickly realize that it wouldn’t do any good for people to see someone who has the same exact identity as your husband hurting you, if you wanted any chance of seeing your Peter again.

He slightly readjusts his hips above you and you think he’ll let you go, listening to your pleas but he just hikes up your legs in order to line up to your heat. You hear him chuckling slowly while your legs are instinctively wrapped around his legs, still shaking from how he made you come.

“All I want is you.”

Your heart picks up its pace as you feel his head right underneath your clit and in between your lips, slowly entering you, feeling that space between your legs be fulfilled. Your guilt eats you up knowing that you were enjoying this, and he knew you were enjoying this, but him not being your actual husband.

“Get off of me,” Is what you say but your hips say otherwise. Your moans get ragged as he continues to slowly thrust, allowing you to get used to his size before he picks up the pace. Your body moves back and forth as he does, fucking him back as you maneuever yourself up and down on his length.

He removes his hands from holding you down, mainly to see what you do and you only wrap your chest in embarrassment, biting your lip as he stares down at you.

“You can’t resist me baby,” He acknowledges, you sniffle. His hips thrust into you again, rocking down into you and you clench around him, causing you both to whine in pleasure. He hiked up your leg higher, flatter against your body as he grabbed the underneath of your thigh to go deeper.

Your empty sobs fill the room as the bed under you creaks, he growls in response. “It’s all the same, in every universe you’re mine.”

You shake your head at that, a thread of “No’s” filling your head but you can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. His cock thrusting in and out of you, his hand gripping you like you’re the only thing he can touch is clouding your mind. His toned body is slamming against your hips and you reach out to hold onto him as he gets rougher, wanting him to anchor you for the inevitable climax.

“I love you just as much as him,” He continues, relishing in your high pitched mewls that he took as praise. He groans lower when you make eye contact with him as your hands grip onto his bicep.

“Maybe even more.”

You shake your head, eyebrows pinching up and lips in a pout as you can feel the sobs coming back when you think about your Peter. You have no idea where he is right now. How you’ll explain yourself when he comes back.

If he comes back.

You shake your head even faster and finally verbalize the “No’s” you’ve been wanting to say but couldn’t bring yourself to.

Your legs become sore at the position he kept them in and presses his chest up against yours. He whispers in your ear, “The fact that I even did this for you says a lot.”

Your head is spinning.

“I need you, more than you’ll ever know.” He grunts, his final thrusts feel like he’s about to split you open, he knows this by the way your eyes pinch together in pain and slows down for you, trying to ease the friction by using his thumb to play with your clit during.

You separate your lips in relief and he uses the opportunity to gently kiss you.

He’s not your husband, he’s not your Peter Parker. But you can’t even bring yourself to identify him as an evil version of your lover. Especially not when he kisses you like this.

A version of him that refuses to make the right decisions, prioritizes the wrong things and goes out of his way to get what he wants is still him. Every part of you wants to scream that this is wrong, telling him that there’s another way and that you have to find a way to fix this, but you can’t think straight when he’s all there is in front of you.

Kissing back, you’re desperate to feel him, any version of Peter, on your lips and you squirm underneath when his fingers rub faster on your clit.

Your cunt tightening around his cock when you feel the tension snap in your stomach. Peter’s hips stutter at the feeling, cumming immediately inside of you and separating himself from you. He allows your legs to relax, laying you back down fully when he removes himself from you.

His fingers trace your tattoo, leaning down to kiss it before trailing down to your swollen, puffy cunt.

“I’ll get a 999 tattoo too,” He says nine-nine-nine this time, smirking when you meet his eyes.

“It’ll be a new beginning for both of us.”

It’s the last thing he says before going back in to eat you out, petrifying you to an unfamiliar degree.

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