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eddiemunsons-missingnipple · 7 months

Text

Next caller.

《 Pairings: College!Eddie Munson x shyfem!reader

《 Summary: Eddie hosts a late night radio show for his college campus, where he discusses various different topics. He's mostly known for his DnD and sex talk segments. You've been a long-time listener who works up the courage to finally call in for some help.

《 Warnings: Smut, 90s!Eddie, he's around 24 here. Phone sex, dirty talk, voyeurism, masturbation (female), sex toys. Eddie refers to the reader as sweetheart, good girl, and Miss caller. I didn't want to use y/n, so he's given you some pet names instead.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Please reblog, comment, and like to show support. Not proofread. Please ignore mistakes.

Mini series masterlist

18+ no minors

Year 1990

Eddie was in his final semester of college with a very popular radio show. He became pretty much well-known on campus overnight. His radio show is known as "The Munson Experience," and it slowly became an overnight hit.

Fans of DnD tuned in for his hour of lore telling and tips on how to build up your fantasy world. Metal heads tuned in for his controversial opinions on bands. Others listened specifically for his special segments in regard to the topic of sex. Boyfriends called for advice on dating and different ways to get their girls off. Girlfriends called him to give thank you's and ask what they could do to repay the favor. He would have callers tell him their most outrageous stories.

Eddies show became popular very fast after he introduced his sex segment. He even became some what of celebrity at your college. He never used a different name or tried to use any type of anonymity. He didn't care if people knew him for his show or even liked him for it.

He was unapologetically himself at all times. You seen him around campus walking from one lecture to the next. Eddie would always wear an old band tee with the sleeves cut off, turning into a muscle tank. He liked showing off his tattoos. One arm fully covered in dark ink all the way down to the top of his hand. The other arm had a few tattoos scattered here and there. His hair was almost past his shoulders, and he had a small nose ring in his left nostril.

You'd always watch from afar as people would approach him to make small talk. The guys rushed over to invite him to their house partylies and girls giving out their personal phone numbers. It was no secret that Eddie knew how to please women. You heard the stories, and judging by his advice on his show, you believed them. He would even share his own personal hook up stories sometimes during the segment.

You and Eddie only ever had one class last semester together, but he never even made a single glance your way. You never approached him either, opting to just admire from distance and make your way to class. Every evening, you did, however, turn on the radio to listen to his show. Truthfully, you only listened to hear his voice. You had no idea what he was rambling on about most of the time, but you didn't care. His barritone voice was like warm honey to your ears. You found comfort in listening to him every night before bed. It was strange how the moment his show started, your stress of the day just melted away.

One day, you were going to call him for help about something you had never told anymore before. You already felt like you could trust him with this sort of thing. You were determined to speak to him even if you had to confess never having had an orgasm before. You don't know why you're putting so much trust into him, but you have.

You were desperate for his help and attention if you're going to be honest. You would lay in bed daydreaming about being in those other girls' shoes when he described what he did to them. How he would feel between your legs. Having his weight on top of you as you came undone beneath him.

Maybe you'll call in to his show tomorrow? What harm could it do? No one would even know it was you on the other line. You didn't have many friends on campus, so it's not like anyone would make the distinction so quickly. This would all be completely anonymous.

You just needed to speak with him. You never could work up the courage to talk to him in real life. You've always been too shy and easily intimidated. Eddie was a nice guy from what you could tell. There was nothing to be intimidated by at all. You would always get butterflies in your stomach when you saw him around. He made your stomach do flips when he flashed a smile, revealing the dimples in his cheeks. You could never work up the courage to ever approach him, so you just settle for your fantasies instead.

A few weeks went by, and you still haven't called. Not that you didn't try. You would call and hang up when you heard what you assumed was an assistant answer the phone. The moment you heard, "Thank you for calling in to the munson." You slammed the phone on the receiver. Not even letting the poor guy finish his sentence. This situation was driving you crazy you were convinced he could and would help with your problem. You assured yourself he was the only one who could because you didn't want anyone else to.

You mope around your shared home with your roommate, Monica. She could tell something was bothering you but never pressed on the issue. You two weren't the closest, but there was a mutual respect and love for one another. She'd try to get you to go out to parties with her but knew not to pressure you. The moment she heard a no, she left it at that, shrugging her shoulders and leaving you be.

"I can tell something is bugging you." she asked for the millionth time that week.

You sigh. "Im fine, I swear -- just little stressed." You put on a fake smile heading back to your room, leaving her to continue getting ready her date. Hoping she won't ask you again, you locked yourself away for the night. There was a light knock at your door, and you heard your roommates muffled voice from the other side. "I'll be back late. Get some sleep, okay?"

You ignore her as she leaves for the evening. Flopping yourself back against your pillows, you turned to look at your phone. Then, glance at your clock, it read 10:45 pm. It's almost time for his last segment of the night. Should you call? Would tonight be the night? You rolled over on your side, staring between the clock and your phone.

You sat up quickly, snatching the phone and dialing the numbers. Your heart already pumping with adrenaline when you hear the dial tone. A lump in your throat builds from nerves and excitement. Tonight was the night, and you were not going to chicken out this time. You hear the distinct voice on the other end of the call. "Thank you for calling into the munson experience. What are you calling in for."

You struggle to find your voice for a moment. The man on the other end is waiting for you to respond, and he almost hangs up, thinking it's another crank call. "I'm calling to speak to Eddie." You're voice barely even a whisper that you needed to repeat yourself three times. Eventually, they put you on hold while they got ready for his final segment. You exhale a deep breath you didn't even know you were holding in.

The sound of the music they put you on hold to cut off and your stomach drops. This was it you were finally going to do it. Not only were you going to speak to him, but you were also about to confess something that always made you feel embarrassed. You know it's nothing to be ashamed about truly. Judging by the countless women who called in with a similar problem looking for advice.

The music playing on the radio fades, and you hear him greet you."Hi, thank you for calling in. How can I be of assistance?"

You struggled to find your voice yet again.

"Hello? C'mon, don't be shy. This is a judgment free zone here." He leaned forward in his chair, getting closer to the microphone.

"Umm, hi, I was calling for something I think only you can help me with." You're clutching the phone in a tight grip against your ear. Your hands are shaking, and you hope no one can recognize you.

He leans back in his rolling chair. "And who am I speaking with."

"I....I'd rather not give you my name." You stammered. Your anxiety is building up, and you are so close to hanging up.

"That's okay. Well, keep this anonymous." He replied.

His brows raise for a moment as he listened to you talk. You sounded a little too familiar to him, and he has a sneaking suspension he might know who you are. He won't out you just in case he might be wrong and also respecting your wishes to remain anonymous.

You take a deep breath. "Well, you see, I've never...I don't know how to say this."

"You never what?" Have sex or something? " He asked, but his voice showed no emotions.

"No...I mean I'm not a virgin or anything like that. I just....I've had boyfriends, and anytime we did stuff, I never-- finished." You confessed to him.

His eyes widened for a moment, and he felt a pain of sadness in his heart. He could tell you were scared to reveal something so personal like that. Especially to him, a total stranger on a live radio show with hundreds of listeners. "You never had an orgasm before. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

Pinching the bridge of your nose." Yes, that's what I'm telling you."

"Huh, okay, have you tried getting yourself off, at least?" He questioned, spinning around in his chair. His assistant, the other side of the room, listened Intently to the conversation.

"Well you see that's my problem anytime I tried to make myself cum I just kinda give up. I get so close and right when I'm there... I stop." You blurt out as you feel a weight being lifted from your shoulders.

He ponders for a moment before responding. "And how can I help you with this exactly? "

"Well, I was hoping you could guide me through it." Your face scrunching up as the words left your mouth. You knew this was a dumb idea from the start. He wasn't going to help you, and any moment now, you're waiting to hear him laugh at how ridiculous this is. There's a long, almost uncomfortable silence.

Eddie, on the other side of the line in his booth, is in utter disbelief. Sure, he definitely wants to guide you through that experience. What guy wouldn't? He just truly can not believe this was happening live on HIS show. His assistant kept mouthing no to him, knowing this could end badly. Eddie doesn't care he's doing it. He picks up his old bandana that's been discarded on the table and wipes sweat from his forehead. He nods back at the assistant, signaling hes going along with it whether people like it or not.

Picking up his yoyo, he props his feet up on the table in front of him. "You want me to help you cum?" Is that correct."

"Yes, that's what I want. I need you to help me any way you can." You're sounding more desperate than intended.

"Okay, well, miss caller. I think im the perfect guy for the job." He smiles tossing the yoyo back and forth to the palm of his hand.

You smile as the anxiety you felt early slowly fades away.

"What are we using tonight, sweetheart? Fingers or toys?" He asked tossing his yoyo aside.

"Umm, I have a toy I can use." You closed your eyes tight, answering his question.

"Do you want me to talk dirty to you while we do this, sweetheart? " He got his voice lower in the mic, causing your breath to hitch.

'Uhh, yes... I'd like that a lot, actually." You bite your lower lip, anticipating what he's planning.

A grin plastered on his face while his mouth gets unbelievably closer to the mic. His voice felt so close to your ear. Your skin prickles with goosebumps. "Are you laying back, sweetheart?"

"....uhh,yes, I'm laying in bed." Your voice shakey on the other end.

"Good girl, get nice and comfortable for me."

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs together when you hear him calling you a "good girl." You turn off your bedside light and let the warm glow from your candles set the mood.

"What are you wearing?" He asked, licking his lips.

"A shirt and panties." You replied, looking down at yourself.

"Yeah? wanna take those panties off for me." He continued on making his voice low and deep. Similar to his DM voice, he would put on during his DnD segments. A shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. There is a small wet patch already forming on the thin lace material of your panties.

You moved and carefully dragged the delicate lace down your legs, tossing them across your room. "They're off."

"That's a good girl." He praised.

You lay there patiently waiting for him to continue.

"Can you be my good girl and grab that little toy you told me about?" He asked you, feeling himself growing hard as well. He still can't believe he's doing this but doesn't want to stop. "Do you have it?"

Reaching over to your bedside table, you open the drawer, grabbing the small vibrator.

"I got it." You whisper into the phone.

He readjusts in his seat, "Turn it on for me."

You do as he says and turn the small vibrator onto the lowest setting. That ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach creeps back in. You want to do this, but the thought of hundreds of people listening to you right makes you second guess the decision.

"On second thought, maybe this was a bad idea." You admit trying to fight back tears as a lump in your throat forms.

"No, no hey its okay. What's wrong?" He asked, sounding concerned.

"I--i just remembered there are people listening." You stumble over your words as you try not to cry. Feeling a little ridiculous that you're even going through with this.

He frowns to himself. " Listen, it's just me, and you okay? If you don't want to do this, I understand you can always hang up."

"NO!--I want to do this." You blurt out. Once again, there is a long pause as he's thinking of the right things to say. Eddie doesn't want to make you feel pressured. He wants this to be an enjoyable moment. "Shall we continue?"

"Yes, please." You spoke sofly.

"That's my good girl." He cooed.

You whimper lowly into the phone, but it doesn't go unnoticeable. He already knows how to get you riled up, and he hasn't even gotten started yet. "You like that, don't you?"

"You like it when I call you a good girl?" He teased.

You gulped into the phone." Yeah."

His assistant in the next room is chewing on his nails out of pure terror. He's never seen this happen before on a live radio show, and he just knows what a shit storm it could cause. Eddie doesn't seem to mind at all his focus and attention were strictly on you.

"I want you grab that toy and put it to your clit. Can you do that for me?" He gets his voice low again. Your nipples harden under the thin material of your shirt. You bring the vibrator to your sensitive bud and gasp when you feel the vibrations.

"Okay, sweetheart, now think of me between those thighs. Think of my lips wrapped around your clit sucking so so softly. Imagine my face buried between your legs.." He's breathing heavier into the mic. His cock getting painfully hard in his jeans "Are you thinking about it?"

"Mmm, y--yes I'm...I'm imagining you there." You gasp and moan in the phone.

"I know you must be soaked right now. I wish I was there with you, spreading you open with my tongue. I bet you taste so fucking good" He kept going his voice getting more seductive in your ear.

"Is this your first time thinking of me like this?"

A sly grin creeps up on his face as he probably already knows the answer.

"I bet you have. I'm sure you've seen me around our campus. You've probably wondered what it would be like having my thick cock deep inside you. I would make you cum so fucking hard." He's getting really into it now, and his heart races with excitement.

You sink further into your bed as the vibrator continues working on your clit. Your hips bucking up as you writhe on your blanks, taking in every word he spoke. The phone keeps falling from your ear the more relaxed you become. Your mind in a fog while you listen to him say the dirtiest things. No one has ever spoken to you like this before, not even your ex-boyfriends. "Hey, you there?"

You gasp, "Yes, I'm here."

"Great. I need you to try and keep the phone to your ear as best you can for this part. Now with your other hand, use your fingers to fuck yourself but keep that vibrator where it is, got it?" He sounded much more serious this time.

You kept the vibrator right where it was at while you gently brought two fingers to your entrance. You slide them between your wet folds, getting them covered in your juices. You bite your lower lip hard as you teased around your dripping pussy. You hear him groan in the other end of the phone and wonder if he's enjoying this just as much as you are. You gently dip your two fingers inside you, getting them as deep as they possibly could go. "Ooh! Fuck." You moaned in his ear.

"Yeah, that's it pretend your fingers are my cock sweetheart." His let out a shakey breath.

"I bet your so fucking tight. Just thinking about your tight pussy taking my cock is making me so hard." He's getting himself riled up.

He rubbs the back of his neck, trying to stay focused. "I'd have to take my time with you first. Working you open until you're ready to take all of me."

"Is it big?" You ask him meekly, panting into the phone while your fingers stretch you open.

"Fuck baby--id have you feeling so full." He groaned in the mic, struggling to keep himself composed. Clenching his jaw tight as he opens and closes his fists.

Eddies tries his best to resist rubbing himself over his jeans as he listened to you. He has to remember this isn't about him right now it's all about you. His sole purpose of the night is making you cum and he's determined you will.

Your fingers continue pumping in and out at a vigorous pace. The vibrator placed carefully on your sore bud while you try your best not to drop the phone again. "I can hear your dripping pussy from here."

His words turn you on even more, making you grow wetter for him. Your body is covered in beads of sweat as your face grows hot. Your pussy making a loud schlick noise with every pump of your fingers.

"Feel good?" He asked you with amusement etched in his tone.

"Yes, it feels so good." You let out weak pathetic response. "Oh my god!" You squealed into the phone. Desperately trying to keep it balanced between your head and shoulder. You're a moaning, whimpering mess, and you don't care how loud you're being. You've never felt like this before it's terrifying and thrilling all at the same time.

He laughs, rubbing his chin letting out a quiet grunt before speaking again, "You sound so sexy when you make those little noises."

His listeners are having a hard time distinguishing if he's getting himself off in the process or if he's just playing it up for the moment. They're used to his crazy antics, but this was something entirely new. They were all shocked and impressed they were getting to witness this.

Your fingers pumping harder as you curve them upwards to rub against that sweet spot on your walls. Your thighs shake as you arch your back off the bed. You imagined they were his cock instead pounding in and out of your pussy like this. You feel a tightness in your core building up, and you know you're getting close.

"You're getting close, aren't you?" He whispered seductively.

"S'close." You whined.

"That's it be a good girl and cum." Cum all over my cock." He groaned.

The vibrator on your clit helping to bring you closer to your release. You spread your legs them even further apart. You're moaning louder into the phone. You can't even hear Eddie's voice anymore. Fucking yourself with your fingers is becoming difficult the closer you are to your release. Your walls clenching up tightly around them, and your pulse quickening.

You plunge them in and out of your pussy faster. That coil in your tummy is getting tighter. The feeling is all too familiar, and you start to get scared. What if you can't get past this part? You're doubting yourself again. You let out a deep breath and relax your mind.

Your legs shut involuntarily, and the vibrator falls from between your thighs. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your first ever orgasm rips through your body with so much intensity. Your vision goes black, and you stop breathing for a second. The phone lays abandoned next to your head, having dropped it long ago. You can hear Eddie's muffled voice calling out for you.

Tears begin pouring from the corners of your eyes. You couldn't help getting emotional after all of that. Not only was this your first time ever being able to have an orgasm, but the entirety of the situation was starting to set in. You felt amazing, and Eddie did such a great job helping you along the way. There were just some insecurities starting to creep in that you wanted to keep away. He's the only man that's ever made you feel like this, and you hope maybe one day you'd find the courage to meet him in person.

Everything went dead silent for a few minutes except for a few sniffles you hope no one else could hear. Your body glistening with sweat and your thighs sticky with your juices. You're still coming down from your high as your tears slowly fade away.

"You there, sweetheart? You heard him ask from a short distance.

With shakey hands, you pick up the phone to your ear. "Mmhmm...I'm still here." Your voice coming out small.

"You did so good for me." He praised you one last time. "It's okay. I'm right here He reassured.

"How was it." He asked, hoping you had a good time.

"It was overwhelming but amazing." You smile weakly into the phone. You can't see him, but he's smiling back.

"Yea knew I'd be perfect for the job. Haven't had one complaint yet." His cockiness coming back almost immediately. Just as he was about to reach for a pack of cigarettes, he noticed he's way over his scheduled time. His eyes widened in a panic as he locked eyes with the clock above him.

His assistant busts through the door, signaling that the show is now officially over for the night. Eddie startles for a moment before jumping out of his chair and yanks the mic up to his mouth to close out the rest of the segment.

He slams his hands down on the table enthusiastically. "GOOD!..GREAT!-- and that's it for tonight's show everybody thank you all for listening. Thank you to our lovely caller, and if you guys wanna see my band play, come visit us at The Hideout every Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Especially you miss caller you can come see me anytime you like."

You listened to him give thanks to everyone when the song called "about a girl" from some band named Nirvana fades away his outro. You flopped back down on your bed. Your body is way too weak to even roll over your legs feeling like jello.

Laying there resisting the urge to fall asleep, wanting to savor this special moment as long as you could. You thought about what he said before hanging up. You were definitely wanted to see him soon. You had to after this night. You needed to finally meet him and maybe repay the favor.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #90s!eddie #college!eddie #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut

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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months

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Hi there! I love all your work and I saw wife!reader and alastor getting married when they were alive and wanted to know how they met or who fell in love first.

You don't have to do this though, have a lovely day! ❤️

I really love this...I won't do how they met because I want people to be able to decide that for themselves but..

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Reader goes on a date, Implied Murder, Alastor being jealous, Suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

You are most likely the one who falls first, not that anybody could blame you, Alastor is F I N E

He's a well sought after man with his good looks, charming conversation skills and various other talents

So it makes sense that when you meet him and get to know him a little more, you're smitten with the radio host

But you're well aware that the chances of becoming an item with Alastor are slim to none

He's never once showed an interest in being in a relationship and visibly tenses when someone flirts with him

So you resolve yourself to try and get over this little crush and keep your friendship with him intact

If you were being honest with yourself, then it's more than just a crush, you're head over heels in love with him

You two do become fast friends though, something always drawing the two of you close, a sort of magnetic pull

You're practically the best of friends, always together, inside jokes, judging people together

A dozen almost kisses, romantically charged interactions, almost sexually charged drunken escapades

You even bring him food when he's at work so that he doesn't forget to eat and take care of himself

He sets aside time to take you to different restaurants, clubs, parks, anywhere that might be enjoyable

People are quick to assume you two are a couple, but you're always quicker to correct them

It's the truth but it sort of bothers him

He can't deny that you're great company, or that you're beautiful, or that he hates it when you're not smiling

Or that he has a great...fondness for you and your little quirks/talents

He's very attached to you to say the least, you're an important person in his life

That's what he tells people anyways

He doesn't even realize that he's in love with you until you're suddenly gushing about meeting someone new

You look so hopeful, so excited that some guy asked you out but the idea of you on a date makes his skin crawl

But you're only so hopeful and excited because you think maybe this guy will help you get over your feelings for Alastor?

He's a very sweet man, cute, funny, a little touchy-feely but nothing you can't handle

You don't notice the way Alastor's smile twitches ever so slightly whenever you bring up your date

Or his sour tone and the way he tries to discourage you from going

"Y/N, do you even like him? Can you picture yourself having a future with him?"

"That's why I'm going on a date with him, besides... he's very sweet to me!"

Another eye twitch and a sound that's almost like a snarl, Alastor is sweet to you, this guy isn't special

Okay, you notice but you assume he's just being protective

Alastor doesn't even realize his thunderous expression until your soft hand grips his chin, forcing him to lock eyes with you

"Alastor, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl and I can handle myself, you don't need to worry about me.."

Even though you want him to worry about you, you want him to beg you not to go, to tell you that he-

But he won't

His attitude only gets worse once he actually sees the guy who asked you out on a date

Oh no he's hot

If Alastor knew the word, then he would surely call him a himbo but he doesn't know that word, so he just calls him "Next."

Watching you interact with him was something that was truly sickening, seeing someone so clearly enamored with you

And you're enjoying the attention, Alastor gives you attention, he compliments you and takes you to fun places

Just never with obvious romantic intentions before...

Your date kisses your hand and Alastor wants to scrub it clean for you, Alastor can kiss you-

Kissing you wouldn't be so bad...or possibly more...

What was all that sickeningly sweet stuff you used to talk about couples doing together? Dates, cuddling, sex? He could do that, with you that is-

It's a little hot under his collar all of a sudden

It's not like Alastor hasn't already been practically taking you out on dates, courting you

Everyone already thinks you two are a couple anyways

Fuck he's in love with you and he's probably already missed his chance

He wrestles with himself over the sudden revelation all the days leading up to your date

It's not until you come out looking like the most heavenly creature on earth that Alastor realizes you're actually going on a date

"You... you're really going to go out with him? You can do so much better, Y/N."

He doesn't miss the frustrated look on your face and the way you hug yourself

"Well, he's the only one who's taken an interest in me, Al."

"And if someone else asked you?"

He's cautious with his words, already formulating a plan in his head based off of your reaction

"...there's only one person who I want to take notice of me."

Oh he's stealing you away now

He stands up and slaps his hands on your arms, giving you a charming smile as he leans in

Your body instinctively reacts, and you lean in to meet him halfway, your lips drawn to his-

"Make sure you guys tune into my show later tonight, okay? I'll have something special whipped up for your date!"

He hugs you and leaves you feeling more conflicted than ever, the feeling doesn't leave even after Alastor sees you off for your date

Your lips still tingle from that almost kiss

Your date is absolutely ruined, Alastor having completely taken over your thoughts with his strange behavior

Not that he didn't always take over your thoughts already

But you can hardly focus on your date, who's very sweet, very dumb and a little too touchy for your tastes

You end the date early, already knowing there's no shaking off your love for your best friend

You'll just long for Alastor for the rest of yours days...

Then you remember he asked you to tune into his radio show! Without even realizing it, your feet have taken you to his radio tower

You can hear him in there, getting ready for his show, you grab the handle and press your ear to the door

"Good evening, folks! I would like to dedicate this special song to the love of my life! My soulmate, Y/N!"

You feel your body freeze as a familiar song fills your ears, a song that was special only to you and Alastor

It's the closest thing to a confession that you'll probably ever get from him-

You'll take it

When you open the door to the broadcast booth you can tell he's surprised to see you there

"I thought you would at least be letting him drive you home by now..."

He's nervous but clearly trying to hide it, making his way towards you slowly

"I just wanted to be here with you..."

His arms are sliding around your waist, the nervousness he had before melting away into a smug grin

He's so fucking handsome

"You missed me so much that you ditched you date~?"

Your fingers are tangling in his hair as you pull him in closer, lips nearly touching as the emotions between you two threaten to burst

"And you just dedicated an entire love song to me on air to steal me away from my date."

His warm breath hits your face as he chuckles, bypassing your waiting lips to kiss your ear softly instead

"What can I say, my dear? I'm a fool when it comes to love~"

His voice nearly makes your knees buckle, but Alastor easily holds you up, pushing you up against the door while giving you a bruising kiss

For someone who's never really taken an interest in relationships, he's a really talented fucking kisser

I really hope you like this one! I had so much fun with it!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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backwardsbread · 22 days

Text

Hazbin Hotel:

Human!Alastor x Housewife!Reader

~Understanding Asexuality~

Warnings‼️- Established relationship, angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy, fem!reader, maybe OOC Alastor??, mentions of cannibalism but only for like one sentence.

Setting is Alastor’s time period, 1900-1930s.

A/N: I hope I did Alastor’s character justice! He might be slightly out of character?? I can’t imagine him actually getting in a relationship, I mean man is literally a serial killer- so I tried- ENJOY

~I would also like to say, I am not asexual or aromatic myself. This is just my take on Alastor’s sexuality/how he handles it. If I made any mistakes, please correct me but I tried to be as respectful as possible. I tried to do some research on the history of asexuality during the time period, but remember I am not perfect and this is a FAKE scenario with a FICTIONAL character.~

You like to think you know your husband like the back of your hand.

The two of you got married young, falling hard for the young radio host was easy. Many other maidens had, their affections for Alastor painfully obvious. All the while Alastor had no plans on perusing any of the women who fancied him. He was love blind, not really understanding the amount of people attracted to him, or why they were.

What wasn’t to like? He was an attractive young man, charming, and a true gentleman. But the idea of settling down, having to commit himself to one individual the rest of his life, didn’t appeal to him.

Especially with how tainted his brain was with his little hobbies.

He never got the special feeling everyone spoke about. Butterflies, increased heart palpitations, sweaty palms. The mere thought of it was enough to have his face contorting in mild disgust.

That opinion didn’t change when he met you. There was no ‘love at first sight’ feeling for him. You were polite and put together and that was something Alastor could appreciate. He didn’t quite understand your advances towards him. Seeing your interest towards him as friendly banter, while you saw his reactions to it as rejection.

You accepted his dismissal of your feelings, knowing you had given it your best shot. It didn’t stop Alastor from adoring your company. Whether it be on the dance floor or attending the diner you worked at. You were an incredible friend to him, nothing more.

Safe to say, Alastor didn’t suddenly catch feelings for you. There was no sudden change in his feelings.

But there were whispers

Unwanted Attention being brought on Alastor.

Gossip was high. Many mouths questioning Alastor’s true intent with you. Why was he always along side such a pretty thing without courting her? Were the two of you involved in secret affairs?

The theories grew, and while Alastor loved the attention being a radio host brought him, gossip was bad if he needed to keep his personal life under wraps. Besides, what kind of gentleman would he be if he let others tarnish your good name? Getting with you was more of an effort to fit into norms rather than it being for ‘true love’.

Slowly he showed signs of affection towards you. Holding your hand in public, taking you on more proper dates, even kissing your cheek once or twice when he saw hushed whispers from nearby crowds. The affection was sudden, but not unwelcome to you. Your feelings had never truly gone away for the radio host, and you pinned his original rejections on him being shy.

It wasn’t long after his advances he asked your official partnership. To be frank, you were easy and Alastor needed a cover. His true intentions were cruel, but you were blindsided by your longtime crush and friend being interested in you.

But you weren’t completely naïve.

While yes, you loved Alastor with all your heart, you knew in the back of your mind he had ulterior motivations. Every chaste kiss, every hand hold, every hug, felt rushed and nervous. Your whole relationship with Alastor felt fast paced, as only a few months after having the gall to ask you out, he was asking you to marry him.

It felt forced.

The feeling you tried to ignore, hoping it was just your insecurities causing the sinking feeling in your gut. You of course said yes to Alastor’s proposal. Knowing deep down you loved him and should not question if he did so in return.

Before you knew it, you were dressed in white in front friends and family, listening to wedding bells chime gleefully.

You could recall joyous laughter and dancing, talking about your soon future with the radio host whose last name you had now shared. Sharing drinks with friends to celebrate you ‘winning’ over Alastor. It all moved so fast yet you were happy with the results.

Alastor couldn’t have agreed more considering the chatter about the two of you had died down ever since his proposal. (Besides a few heartbroken maidens who heard the handsome host was officially off the market) Less eyes were on him which was good for the estranged hobbies he would indulge in.

You and Alastor moved in together and it felt like smooth sailing.

Until the next thing people expected from the two of you. That of course being children.

Alastor and you would constantly hear all about the subject from your mother, who was desperate to have some grandkids running around. At the mention of children you felt flustered and embarrassed, considering you and Alastor had yet to be intimate with one another.

It was through the subject, however, that sinking feeling returned. As your mother rambled on about grandchildren, you occasionally piped in with your own opinion. When your husband realized having children was something you actually wanted, you caught him grimacing at the idea.

The look he gave made your heart feel heavy in your chest. The sinking only worsened when he begrudgingly agreed with your mother, saying how the two of you would provide her with grandchildren with time.

Forced.

You felt guilty. You knew Alastor was lying with his words. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to seduce your husband before. It was actually something you expected to happen and for the radio host to initiate.

Alastor would be lying if he said he didn’t start to feel genuine fondness towards you. You knew him well, better than any other friend he had.

You knew his schedule, his habits, his preferences. It scared him how much you could read his mind like a book. All the reason more to keep you sheltered away from how cruel of a man he truly was.

You were simply too good for him. Too innocent.

But when it came to intimacy, the radio host showed absolutely no interest. Coming up with one excuse after another to not be intimate with you. His rejection left you feeling unwanted and almost abandoned. Your own husband didn’t seem to enjoy your affections and it hurt your heart. You started to question if you were the cause of his discomfort. Was he just not attracted to you? Were you being too pushy?

Your mind even wandered to the late nights Alastor would stay out. Was he seeing someone else, perhaps? He could have anyone he wanted really, despite your marriage, there were many women who would still flirt with him. Had one caught his eye that he favored over you?

Anxiety and insecurity riddled your body for a long time before you started to search for possible answers. After work, you would head to a library of the outskirts of town. You didn’t want anyone you knew possibly catching you wildly scanning through books for possible answers.

The library didn’t provide much comfort. You found unsatisfactory answers, many of which ended in advice on how to ‘properly seduce a man’.

You didn’t want to force your husband to be intimate with you. Making desperate attempts that would ultimately be denied as they had been in the past.

You dug a little deeper, with a lot of the same results. You were just at your wits end with all the repetitive failure to find anything that felt right. However, one article caught your eye. A book that had dusted over from the lack of acknowledgment. Out of luck you reached for it, hoping to find any answers. Reading through the contents, it opened a whole new world of terminology and knowledge about a community you didn’t know existed.

You found comfort knowing there were possibly other people like your husband. That his rejections could possibly be the cause of something else other than you. You decided to take the article home with you, along with a few others, to read into it more at home.

————————————————————————

Through your research, you had started to understand your husband’s behavior more and more. You wouldn’t truly know the answers unless you had simply asked him, but at the same time, it felt better to consider this an option than to believe something was wrong with your marriage.

There were other people who exhibited traits your husband showed when it came to intimacy. Those who didn’t enjoy such pleasures or desires. It was a spectrum, one that you had never heard of. But it all made sense the more you read into different people’s experiences.

Some people’s stories you read stated how intimacy rarely crossed their mind. Before, you had only heard stories of friends being hyper sexual, with high sex drive that would oftentimes cause high gossip. It made sense that there were bound to be people at the other end of the stick, who felt the opposite. Of course they could acknowledge it was a thing. However the need/want to experience such things would rarely and sometimes never spark. It didn’t make these people strange or less human, it was simply how they felt.

You hear the door swing open, interrupting your thoughts. You swear to yourself silently, hurrying to close the books and articles you were reading up on. You shove the disorganized papers into the large book, then shove it underneath the table, out of view. You stand, brushing off your dress, and quickly go over to the stove.

“Hi honey! You’re home early.” You shout across the house to your husband. You grab your apron, messily tying the back of it.

“Oh I finished up early today, thought you would enjoy the surprise.” Alastor’s voice responds, his footsteps approaching the kitchen.

Grabbing a pot, you fill it with water as Alastor enters the room. He approaches you, putting a finger under your chin and bringing you closer. He gives your cheek a small peck, his fingers barely grazing your hip.

Forced.

You smile towards your lover, setting the full pot over the unlit stovetop. Adrenaline runs through your veins as you watch Alastor go and sit at the table. You clear your throat, avoiding looking at your husband. You open up the cabinets, looking around for ingredients to start on supper.

“How was your day, love?” You ask, trying to be as casual as you could. Alastor caught on to your anxiety, but decided to ignore it. He hummed, adjusting his glasses on his face.

“As normal as any other, dear. There was actually quite the crazy story, today about-..” Alastor went on about his radio show and the topics he had covered. You nod occasionally to show you could hear him, but his words didn’t really process in your head. You couldn’t focus with you heart drumming in your ears. Pulling out random ingredients from the cabinets, trying to think of anything to make for dinner, Alastor continues to speak. His voice a source of comfort despite him unknowingly being the cause of your anxious behavior.

“..they apparently continued their actions anyway! Don’t these men have any class? I swear to you the nerve of… some.. folk..” You tuned back into Alastor’s rambling just as he hear him start to trail off. You hear his seat pull back, making a creaking noise as he leans back and looks under the table. Feeling his gaze on you for a moment, you don’t dare to look back at your husband. He had seen what you tried to poorly hide.

Alastor leans down, grabbing the book with articles sticking out of the side. He hums, opening the book a skimming over the contents of what he found.

“Darling, what’s all this?” He asks, eyebrows furrowing as he read through the article. Tensing at his tone, you avoid looking towards him and keep quiet. Your mind racing almost as fast as your heart. Your voice was caught in your throat, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse.

It takes a moment to gain your composure. Eventually you speak, after clearing your throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump stuck there.

“I was just.. doing some reading.. on uhm..” Gosh, this was embarrassing to admit. Your face flushes to pink as you continue, “I just had some concerns.. I suppose I was feeling a bit insecure about our relationship-..”

“Our relationship?” Alastor questions, staring daggers into your back. His tone showing signs of irritation and discomfort. You turn towards your husband. There was no hiding how you felt now. You couldn’t lie to him when he had the evidence in his hands.

“I.. suppose I was worried.. for my own selfish reasons. I got to wondering why you didn’t seem attracted.. to me.” Alastor glares slightly at your words, drumming his fingers against the table. He knew exactly what you meant with your words, his nose instinctively cringing up in mild disgust. He opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off quickly by you.

“I know it’s something silly to be concerned about, it shouldn’t be a concern at all. I shouldn’t have questioned you. Dare I say it was wrong of me.” You quickly tried to explain to ease your husbands silent anger.

Alastor stayed quiet, teeth gritting as his all too fake smile cracked at the seems. He felt on edge. He couldn’t have you questioning him like this, opening him up and making him vulnerable. You made him question how well he was really hiding his true identity. You could tap in to what he was feeling and it irked him. He cleared his throat, interwining his fingers together to create a cradle for his chin to sit.

“I don’t see how your concerns are important, dear. Our relationship is fine without such activities. Do you not believe that to be true? I love you, do I not?” Alastor asked, a small smile plastered on his face.

Forced

“Do you?” You find yourself asking before you can process the question yourself. Alastor’s wide eyes make you replay your words. You gasp, covering your mouth with both hands. What were you thinking??

Both you and your husband stay quiet for a period of time, staring at each other with wide eyes. Alastor breaks his gaze, looking towards the wallpaper design in the kitchen that suddenly interested him. Your voice catches in your throat. It felt like you couldn’t speak for what felt like forever. Heavy weight on your chest when you uttered the question you’d been keeping inside since you said your I do’s.

Taking a breath to regain yourself, you look towards the stove. Scattered abandoned ingredients of what dinner was supposed to be left there. You glance towards Alastor, voice barely a whisper as you speak to him.

“I understand..” Your muttered voice doesn’t reach him, causing him to look at you and turn his head. You see him in your peripheral vision, then repeat yourself;

“I understand if you don’t.. or if you don’t want to partake in any.. intimate actions with me..” You start, grabbing a potato that had been abandoned on the counter. You start to rinse it under the sink water.

“From what I’ve read, you’re not alone. There apparently are men and women alike who don’t share an interest for sexual acts and behaviors. You’re not the only one..”

“I’m not accusing you of anything.. I’m not trying.. to make you feel bad. I just wanted to understand.. and I do. Please let me.”

Alastor stares at you while you speak. His silence feels like rejection. The same rejection you felt when you had first met him, but this was worse. Your heart ached, your chest felt tight, and your eyes felt like they were drowning in welled up tears.

You loved Alastor.

But never would you force him to return it.

You hear your husband stand from his place at the table, slow steps walking towards you. You feel his presence behind you. You silently prepare yourself for an onslaught of ‘how dare you’s and ‘who do you think you are’s.

Instead you feel warm hands hook underneath your arms, pulling you back towards Alastor’s body. Your body tenses, as you drop the vegetable you were once washing into the sink. Alastor leaned forward, resting his nose in the crook of your neck. Leaning down and hugging you tight.

Flood gates open as soft tears spill down your flushed cheeks. You gently hold onto Alastor’s arm with one hand, trying to stay perfectly still as if your husband were a stray animal. As if you move, he’d flinch away.

Alastor pulls away from your neck, looking at your face. His hand reaches up, standing straight, as he caresses one of your cheeks. He smears the tears across your cheek in an attempt to wipe them away, before leaning into you. Breath hitting yours before his lips meet yours.

Authentic

You’d never felt such a gentle and loving kiss from your husband. It felt so genuine and kind. You kiss back weakly, only hoping to make him feel the warm feeling he gave you.

Alastor never truly did understand his admiration for you. He never regretted marrying you. Of course you were always a good friend for him, one that he would work hard to keep safe. To keep you hidden away from who he was. Your happiness was always in the back of his mind as an essential. Sure he hated how you read him so easily, like it was second nature. But he hated it because if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be safe.

He hated it because a part of him did love you.

Pulling away from the kiss, Alastor keeps you close to him, watching more soft tears fall down your face. He brings his other hand up, letting you face him while he grabs out a handkerchief from his pocket. Gently dabbing away the tears on your face, he looks at you with such soft eyes. Such genuine eyes.

“Thank you.” Is all he says. It wasn’t a satisfying answer. You wanted more than anything a long list of answers to all your worries.

But invisible weight lifts off your shoulders. Closing your eyes and letting out a breath that felt much deserved to let go. It was a solution, an answer no matter how much it truly did explain. You had made an effort to understand your husband, when most would force their ways through the barriers he set around himself. That was something Alastor could appreciate.

He never understood why you took the time in your life to be patient. Be understanding. How an angel like you ended up with the demon he was.

But he hoped you wouldn’t regret it just the way he never regretted you.

——————————BONUS———————————

“…and I told her, if she ever had a problem with him again, take it up with me! And just like that, her husband was on a platter! Such a shame, his body was almost as disgusting as his behavior!”

Alastor sipped his tea as he listened to Rosie ramble. He never broke his gaze away from her, hanging on to every word she had to say. He delicately set down his cup on the porcelain saucer. Everything about Rosie.. her charm, her personality, her humor.

It all lead back to the thought of you. Someone he admired and felt comfortable with.

“Are you alright, Al? You’re kinda gawking over there..” Rosie asked, practically seeing the gears turning in Alastor’s head. Alastor blinked out of his thoughts, watching Rosie give a smile at him and tilt her head.

“I’m fine, dear, it’s just..” Alastor glanced to the side, his signature smile softening into something genuine. “You remind me of someone.” He explained quietly.

The mention raised Rosie’s interest, ready for any gossip Alastor had to spill. She leaned in close, grinning ear to ear. “Ooo! Don’t be shy, who do I remind ya of?”

Alastor looked at Rosie and he could’ve sworn that in her midnight eyes, he could see yours. Staring back at him through his soul. How could he describe you? Someone who just knew him despite how hard he tried to hide. Someone who acknowledged him over and over again despite his own uncertainties.

“She was the dearest darling to ever grace the earth.” Alastor found himself muttering. Rosie melted at the compliment he not only gave you, but her as well. She saw genuine adoration in the radio demons eyes when he spoke of you.

While what you had with Alastor wasn’t entirely real, he wouldn’t have exchanged your marriage for anything. After all, when everyone else didn’t and refused to.

You understood.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #rosie and alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel rosie

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gentlyweeps-world · 5 months

Text

Wine and Lies

summary: A dinner date turns into a heartbreak. But maybe, you could get revenge.

pairing: carlos sainz x fem! reader, charles leclerc x fem! reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, toxic relationship, cheating

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

At first, 5 minutes didn't phase you but 5 turned into 10, then 20, 40, 45. It had been an hour of you sitting there tucked away in the same table in the corner, your legs crossed as you anxiously check your phone.

It was annoying and upsetting, really. Carlos was the one who wanted to go on a date at the restaurant, saying it would be a great start of the winter break after a stressful season. Yet here you are alone, glued to your seat because you could hear the waitresses and host whispering, saying how it was “a sad sight”.

You also lost count of the glasses of wine you had, I mean how much did it matter if Carlos wasn't going to show? You had one of his credit cards anyway, the one where he let you buy whatever you wanted, as long as it was under 5k.

Then you felt your phone buzz, a smile formed on your face, maybe he just lost track of time? But then it fell, pictures of Carlos kissing a model in an alleyway appeared on your phone. A text from Carlos appeared, “Sorry amor lost track of time, I finished my sim work, will be there in ten minutes ❤️”

The glass you had in your hand fell, shattering against the floor of the restaurant. You didn't register the worried waitresses or host, tears had formed in your eyes, ears ringing. “I-I’m sorry I need to go..” You whispered out weakly, not quite grasping reality at the moment.

“Actually, the person I'm meeting will be here soon, I’ll leave the card on the table” You say, pulling his card out of your purse and putting it on the table.

You rush out of the restaurant and back to your apartment. Shutting the door behind you, you slide down against it, that numbness and shock filling your body again as sobs fall from your lips.

Your body shaking and hands quivering, you pull out your phone scrolling through the pictures as tears blur your vision, dropping down onto your phone screen.

Who was this woman anyway? It was public information that you and Carlos were together, for four years in fact. You couldn’t fathom the fact this happened.

You never imagined that Carlos, your Carlos, would do this, then lie to you. You find that her name is Rebecca. She’s a model, of course she’s a model. Why are the homewreckers always models?

Clicking onto your Instagram you find that she’s following you. Rage filled your body, along with the need to throw up.

You rush off the floor and run towards the bathroom, throwing up the appetizers and wine you had.

Your phone buzzes to life next to you, showing the caller ID of your boyfriend's teammate, and Ferrari's golden boy, a smirk spreads across your face.

If Carlos could do it, you were going to do it ten times better.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

radio 🪩: I wanted to write something loosely based on “right where you left me” by Taylor Swift, I've been obsessing over it and I decided to pick our other favorite red flag Ferrari boy, Carlos!

next chapter

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raginglesbian2006 · 3 months

Note

Hiii I was wondering if maybe you could write a Alastor fluff? Where Alastor decides to do a duo broadcast with reader? But she’s just very clumsy and nervous and fumbling over her words and doesn’t really know what she’s doing!! Pleaseee😁😁🙏🏼

Hi! Omg this is my first request so I'm a teensy bit nervous but your idea is so good, it got my brain gears turning!!

Hope you enjoy this little piece!

Step by step,cher...

Alastor x reader

When you first arrived at hell, you had no idea why you were here. The last thing you remembered was accidentally falling down a flight of stairs. Did you really die like that? And what crime did you commit to be subjected to eternal damnation? Was borrowing company stationery regarded as an offense?

In your pursuit of a safe place to stay in hell, you stumbled upon the Hazbin Hotel. The literal princess of hell invited you in with the brightest smile, one you never thought you'd see on a demon, let alone the daughter of the devil himself.

Needless to say, although your initial motive to stay at the hotel was for your safety, you gradually became roped into their redemption activities or rather...attempts.

You got along with everyone well at the quaint hotel. Charlie and Vaggie took such good care of you, making sure you were well-fed and comfortable at their establishment. Husk was a good listener. You weren't that heavy of a drinker so you just lounged at the bar counter talking about random things with him and listening to his thoughts and opinions in return. Sir Pentious was a sweetheart, entrusting you with his adorable eggies when he went out from time to time. Niffty put on roach shows for you, which you quite enjoyed. Although initially put off by Angel Dust's flirtations, you quickly became comfortable in his presence, often visiting his room to play with his little pig, which he called "Fat Nuggets."

There was one particular demon, however, who piqued your interest since day one. Alastor was an enigma to all the residents of the hotel and beyond, yet they trusted him to run as the host of this establishment and he did so spectacularly. He had this certain gentlemanly charm to him- never mind the fact that he was a serial killer and a cannibal, at least he was courteous.

You used to work at a radio station back when you were alive. You didn't host any shows, just worked behind the scenes to make sure everything went smoothly. So it is safe to say, you were very interested in Alastor's radio shows.

He overheard you talking about his work one day and popped out of nowhere behind you to ask you what you thought about his recent show. From then on, you and Alastor had a weekly routine of sitting down with a cup of tea and discussing his shows, planning what to air next, and improving on what was already aired. You quite enjoyed these little get-togethers with him.

It was on one of these meetings that Alastor had a brilliant idea in his head that he wanted to share with you.

"Why don't you join me in my broadcast tomorrow?"

Your eyes widened as you looked at his ever-grinning face. You were expecting him to laugh at your face any time now...but that never came.

"I-I'm sorry...what now?" you questioned.

"Ah!," Alastor explained, "It's a simple request from me, darling! You do so well detailing and planning my broadcasts and it's all thanks to you that my shows have gone swimmingly, much better than before! You have such useful insights! Why wouldn't you like to share your thoughts with all of hell?"

You gulped. Your hands left your teacup and started fiddling with the threads that came out of your sweater.

"I-I... I don't think I'd do a good job, Al," you paused, then continued, "I indeed worked at a radio station when I was alive but I have never hosted a show in my life."

Alastor hummed and with his claws tapping the table, he said, "Well darling, don't you think you could use this opportunity to try something new? You'd be learning only from the best of course!"

Sensing your hesitance, Alastor further elaborated, "Besides, all you need to do is answer my questions! Imagine you're talking to me, as we do during our meetings! You will be just fine!"

You didn't feel comfortable with the idea of hosting a broadcast, despite him being there but you did not want to reject his offer either, so you nodded and agreed to be there tomorrow morning. His grin grew impossibly wider and he exclaimed that he could not wait to see you "shine".

You'd wake up extra early the next morning, unable to keep your anxiety on the down low. You dressed up and rushed in the direction of the booth Alastor used for his radio shows. You kept on trying to calm yourself down, biting your nails and pacing in front of the door to the recording studio, hoping you'd not let Alastor down.

You were startled at the sound of radio static pouring in around you. You looked beside you to see the radio demon himself staring you down. Slightly embarrassed, you greeted him with a "good morning" which he reciprocated. He then opened the door to his recording booth, gesturing for you to enter in.

You were seated on one of the comfy chairs he owned as Alastor moved around the studio, checking the equipment and making sure all was right. When he was finally satisfied, he looked towards you, with that gleeful grin on his face and said, "Ready, my darling?"

You nodded your head, although you weren't sure how you were fooling yourself to believe you were ever gonna be ready.

Alastor's voice rang through his microphone as he started his broadcast. Hearing him work, in real time, made you want to listen to him forever. No wonder he raked in so many listeners despite the existence of modern technology. He had a rather charming voice.

You shook out of your trance when you made eye contact with the ever-smiling radio demon. You realized he'd asked you a question. The only problem is...you have no idea what he asked.

"U-um... sorry, Alastor. What did you say?"

Alastor chuckled and repeated, "Why my ditzy partner, I asked you what you expect the weather will be like today? It does seem unusually cloudy than yesterday, don't you think?"

"Ah, I see... well-" you were about to speak into the microphone he'd set out for you but you accidentally knocked it down, making the studio fill up with the screeching sound of the mic.

You got out of your seat, panicked, and dove to the ground to find the microphone. Your hands trembling as you searched for it, wondering what Alastor might think of you now.

You finally caught hold of the stray microphone, and rose up to view. Your face was completely and utterly red, and your eyes were tearing up. Alastor would surely be mad at you ruining his broadcast. Who knows, you might've cost him half his listeners.

All those berating thoughts in your head came to a stop when you heard Alastor laughing. Very loudly, might I add.

Confused, you looked up to see the radio demon, slumping on his chair, his chest heaving with uncontrollable laughter. Was he....laughing at you? You suddenly felt quite small in his presence. Your fingers twisted between the lapels of your shirt as your anxiety peaked at an all-time high.

When Alastor finally stopped laughing, he looked at you with his usual grin and exclaimed," Oh dear! I knew something like this would occur so I never started my broadcast in the first place!"

You froze in your seat. What? You looked up at the "on air" sign, only now noticing that it wasn't lit up at all.

Seeing your confusion, Alastor chuckled again. Your distress seemed quite amusing to him. You glared at the demon, your vision blurring with your tears. You did not know what to say to him.

Alastor moved out of his seat and stood next to you. With a clawed hand on your shoulder, he pushed it backward, making you sit up straight on your chair. Then, with a swipe of his hand, he conjured up a handkerchief and wiped your tear-stricken face, as gently as he could.

"My dear, if you were that anxious, you could have just told me you didn't want to do the show. I wouldn't have minded at all."

You finally found your voice and said, "Y-Yes but... I didn't want to disappoint you is all..."

Alastor tsked and patted your hair like you were a little puppy.

"Your need for outside validation seems to cloud your abilities a lot, dear," Alastor continues as he moves closer to you, "Your innate need to please each and everyone around you, makes you undermine your own worth. Look at me! If I cared about everyone's opinions of me, do you think I'd have been able to be this powerful and feared, hm?"

You shook your head in response.

"Take it one step at a time. You can only do so much at once. Remember it always. Step by step, cher."

You looked up at him and nodded. He was right. You just needed to calm down, take a deep breath, and take it one step at a time.

"Do you want to broadcast with me still or do you want to leave?" Alastor asked.

"No, I think I'm truly ready this time," you answered.

Alastor's grin widened and he plopped down on his seat, this time moving it a little closer to yours.

Before he turned on the broadcast, he looked at you and with surprisingly gentle eyes communicated, "Remember. Treat this broadcast like our daily conversations. You will be fine."

You acknowledged his advice and sat comfortably on the chair, ready to take this challenge on head first.

The neon-lit "on air" sign shone and Alastor's voice rang through, this time for real.

"Welcome to the radio demon's broadcast!"

Yes, the show did go "swimmingly" for you, as Alastor put it. He was quite pleased to see you wanting to do more broadcasts with him. He did truly enjoy your company. Perhaps a little more than he initially assumed. He wouldn't mind doing radio shows with you... forever.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #requests open

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onesidedradiostatic · 2 months

Note

aromantic alastor headcanons for aro-week (with some ace in there as well, because I think for alastor those things are so entwined, it's hard to separate them):

tried going out with girls a couple of times when he was alive, to make his mother happy, but always found a way to extricate himself from the attachment. this ties into his learning how to have complete control over any situation he's in

I wonder as well about whether or not he "passed" as white, or whether his community knew that he was creole, and how that affected his dating opportunities, and his paranoia, his need to be in control, basically his constant hyper-vigilance

got a lot of fanmail for his radio host work, women (and men, but more furtively) loooved his voice. this was acceptable, because (apart from some of the weirder ones) he could use this as a metric for how accepted he was in society, as well as how well he was passing -- both in terms of race and orientation, but also youknow, as someone who is definitely not clockable as a serial killer

although of course we know he also enjoyed company. he'd go out drinking and dancing a lot. was mimzy a bit in love with him? I just like the idea that people kept being incredibly taken with his charm and his politeness and his poise, because he does have all those traits. whether he notices...? (no). I mention this point not so much as headcanon, I just like that alastor as aroace and repulsed on both of those points, was never a shut-in about it. he's always been very lively (ha) and outgoing, and clearly likes being in the company of others... but maybe that last point has gotten to be a little difficult during his time in hell, due to having to be so careful about showing any kind of emotional "weakness." speaking of...

post-death became a more extreme version of himself -- that is, a man on a mission to be in control and create emotional distance between himself and others through the power of voice, rather than having to faff about pretending emotional connections where there were none. very suited for hell because of his precarious political lived reality whilst alive, and because hell is built on who has power and who doesn't. these are rituals he understands better than the strange romantic ones during life

the smile as mask and unhealthy coping mechanism -- wonder if when he was alive people swooned over his having a lovely smile (as well as its being useful to placate and to disorient people who had more violent intentions, and in both cases potentially to lure in victims). so the smile likewise became the most extreme version of itself. the smile in essence as the signifier of someone who doesn't fit into any boxes and needs to hide that fact, both by being mixed race and aroace, but then the smile itself becomes something that effectively owns him, because he literally cannot let it drop, ever (honestly if alastor ever stops smiling, it'll be the biggest gasp moment on this show)

all that being said, surprising connections do occur: rosie, I think, sees through him from the beginning, and she's so disarming (ha, disarming... cannibal joke) that she never feels like a threat + they're both cannibals, so there's a relaxed kinship there and maybe she reminds him of the parts of home he (secretly) misses a bit

I wonder how rosie figured out that alastor wasn't into dating. I think at first she might have thought he was gay, but then quite quickly seen that that's not it, he doesn't even like men much, and she feels like she's been around the block enough to piece together peoples' natures from one of a million other people she's known, so way before she knows the terminology, she knows, and crucially, she never judges or tries to force the point

I wonder how vox and alastor met -- whether vox was able to gain power on his own and this attracted alastor's attention, or if alastor saw something of himself (that turned out to be surface level) in vox, that is, they both wear smiles as masks, they're both presenters, their mediums may be different, but their aims feel similar. perhaps alastor was comfortable enough in hell at this point -- probably in a way he never was whilst alive -- that he was feeling magnanimous towards what must have felt a bit like an upstart. and most importantly, the constraints of alloromantic ideas are a comfortable 20 years in the past by now, alastor can barely remember that this was ever anything that was expected of him, or that others' could possibly feel about him

cue vox falling head over heels, the way people so often did while he was alive, and he... does not notice at all (barely a headcanon). I kind of feel like I don't have much to say on these two, because this blog is already a treasure trove of vox and alastor hcs!

I think rosie is the only one who knows alastor is aroace, although... maybe husk? not in so many words, but he knows alastor isn't interested in those things. nifty Does Not Notice Nor Care (in a good way). charlie i will forever think will at some point do a deep-dive on modern queer lingo and get everyone flags (this is practically word of god canon considering that older piece of art you shared). vox definitely doesn't know. val....... sort of kinda knows but in an evil way. vaggie does not care, but she'd be chill about it. mimzy... I don't think knows, mainly because she never cared to think about his behaviours, as someone who's quite self-centered on what alastor is to her. jeez, who am i missing... angel, does not know, head empty

speaking of angel, I think if he ever found out, especially with where he's at in his journey rn, would be very unhappy in some way about having stepped over his boundaries so often so casually at the beginning. dunno how he'd act about it, but i like the idea of vigilantly (and crudely, and bluntly) supportive angel if they ever manage to get alastor out on the town. more on the ace side of things but i can see him going: "do not try to fuck this guy! this guy is unfuckable!"

(i like hypersexual and deeply romantic angel + sex and romance repulsed alastor as unlikely friendship in my head. opposites finding common ground type stuff is always good)

at the end of the day, alastor living and dying in an amatonormative world and having to orient himself within that by building walls that persist/worsen after his death because of the culture of hell being predicated on who controls whom, veeeeery slowly discovering that he can be vulnerable on his own terms without people demanding things from him that he cannot give (smthinsmthin the hotel gang as the opposite of vox in that sense -- not only that sense, but also that)

also something about imagining his mother hoping he'd find a nice girl and settle down (in the way parents often do, because that's the metric of happiness right.....) and how he never could give her what she wanted, and maybe feels some very locked away guilt about that, which he thinks he'll never be able to deal with because his mother is in heaven, but perhaps in this story she'll get to see what he's built with the people at the hotel and that's really all she wanted for him in the end

OH MY GOD ANON THIS IS ALL SO GOOD?? THANK YOU SO MUCH HAHAHA. happy aro week everyone!! (x2)

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bimobuddy · 2 months

Text

Intimacy

Hazbin Tickle Fic

Lee!Vox, Ler!Valentino

OOC Valentino, he's a lot softer and more genuine in this fic than he is in the show

CW: Suggestive language and moments (nothing too explicit), swearing

Summary: Vox comments that he's not in the mood for s-x, so Val finds another way to be intimate with his partner.

Vox stepped into his shared apartment with Valentino. He groaned and took his hat off, shrugging his jacket off as well, leaving him in his white button up. As soon as he kicked the door shut behind him, his much taller partner stepped into view from the other room. He didn't say much at first, but his open, slightly fluttering wings gave away that he was happy to see him.

"Amor, welcome home. You look stressed~" Valentino purred, his lower set of arms wrapping around Vox's waist, while the upper set cupped the sides of his screen. Vox sighed, "I am. Val-" "How about I take care of that for you~?" Val said, his hands starting to roam, but he felt Vox start to pull away, so he immediately stopped and let him.

"Thanks, Val, but I'm not in the mood," he reached up and took one of the moth's hands, "Maybe we can do something else tonight.. I do want to spend time with you, I just don't-.. I'm not in the mood I'm sor-" Val cut him off by gently squeezing his hand, "Relax, The first no was enough, Screen-Bean, I understand."

Vox felt his screen light up a bit more. He huffed and turned away just a bit. "Don't call me that.." Val chuckled, amused, and effortlessly scooped him up. Vox yelped a little out of surprise, "V-Val! Put-" He immediately went quiet as his partner pressed their foreheads together, muttering something in Spanish. Having spent enough time with Val, he had learned enough to know what he had said. 'Would you relax? Let me take care of you, you angry little man.'

The show-host huffed at that last comment, but allowed Valentino to carry him to their room. "So, out of curiosity, what has you so stressed, my love?" The moth asked. Vox sank a little more into his arms, secretly delighted with how gentle Val was holding him. It was moments like this that reminded him that he was loved instead of just lusted for.

"Fuckin' Alastor.. He showed up at the studio today." Vox muttered. Val couldn't stop the amused smile that appeared. He knew his partner hated the Radio Demon, but it amused him just how dramatic the rivalry was at times. Both of them were equally as petty toward each other. "Did you win?" He asked. Vox just sighed, his screen dimming. His poor little host.

"I see... And you're not in the mood for sex," He made it to their bed and set Vox down, biting back a chuckle as the other just let himself flop down pathetically, "So what are you in the mood for?"

Vox laid there on their bed, his legs draped over Val's lap, as his partner rested all four arms on top of them. "I don't know.. Nothing sexual, just.. Intimacy.. I don't really know how to voice it. I just want to be close to you.. And I want to touch you, but.. just not like that."

Val understood what he meant perfectly. He may have been a very sexual person, but he was no stranger to affection. "Anywhere in particular you don't wish to be touched? Other than your dick." This made Vox burst into light laughter, being immature, pressing a hand over his mouth as he turned his brightening face away.

Oh there we go.

Valentino had always loved Vox's laugh. His real laugh, anyway. It was so rare that he got to hear it. It sounded so human.

Just as Vox was calming down, he reached up and started to unbutton his shirt. The host raised a brow at him. He knew Valentino would not go back on his word, so he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing. However, he got his answer when Val's lower two hands started to gently trace circles into the area just above his hips.

His screen lit up and started to turn pink. "V-Vahal- c'mon-" He started, cursing himself for letting a giggle slip out. The taller of the two grinned. "Oh don't act like you don't like it, I'm not dumb~" He teased, getting his shirt open and slipping two hands in to skitter up his sides. "After years of being intimate, you really thought I never picked up on this little quirk of yours?"

Vox's screen went completely pink. He knew!? For the longest time, he had tried to keep this fondness a secret. He didn't want Val to get the wrong idea and think it was a fetish. It wasn't, he just didn't fully understand what exactly it was. He knew he liked it though. He knew it was-

His eyes widened. It was intimate. Like he had asked.

And Val knew this. That's why he started in the first place.

He felt Valentino raise his arms over his head and pin them there, his second set of hands gently scritching up and down his sides. Vox tossed his head back and just let the giggles spill out of him. "H-Hohohow the fuhuhuck-!?"

Val grinned, scritching up to his ribs, his claws gently crawling up the bones and toward his underarms, making Vox twitch and giggle. "Like I said, we've slept together so many times, it wasn't hard for me to figure out you were ticklish. However, instead of moving away or telling me to stop, you always just let it happen." He swirled his claws into Vox's underarms, getting heavier laughter out of him. He continued, "At first I thought you were into it sexually, but then it occured to me, that you'd have no issue communicating that. So that scratched that off the list of possibilities." As he said 'scratched,' he started to scritch at his underarms, smirking as he felt Vox starting to kick at the mattress.

"Sooo, as time went on, I started to realize that you leaned into it the same way you lean into any other show of affection. You see this," he scribbled over his tummy, "as affectionate."

Vox couldn't even argue. Literally, from the laughter, but also because he knew Val was right. It was affectionate to him. It was closeness, it was soft, it made him happy, especially when coming from someone close to him like Val.

His moth pressed their foreheads together again, the tickling slowing. "So now, amor.. Shall I continue?" Vox was blushy and flustered, but he hesitantly nodded. He had kept it a secret for years now, and he wanted to finally share this with Val.

With that, he felt his partner release his wrists, placing two hands on his tummy, and two hands at his lower sides, just above his hips. "Keep your arms up then~" he purred. Immediately, Vox's fans whirred to life as he started to heat up, causing Val to chuckle.

He started to scritch and skitter along his tummy, while gently pinching at his hips. Vox let out an airy wheeze before he dissolved into frantic giggles, trying to pull his knees up to his chest, but Vall just pushed them back down and sat on his lap to keep them down.

Vox's skin felt buzzy, his heart was fluttering, and he felt overwhelmed with four hands getting him at once. And it felt great. He had to grab the pillow underneath him to keep his arms up as he squirmed from side to side, kicking his heels into the bed.

"Fuhuhuhuck, Vahahahal! Ahahahahaha plehehehease-" "Please what~? Because I know you don't want me to stop yet~" Val teased. Vox couldn't answer, just looking away.

Val started targeting his underarms again with gentle scratching, drilling his thumbs into his hips at the time time. Vox arched his back and slammed his arms down, cackling and curling up on his side. "FAHAHAHACK! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE, NONONO HAHAHAHAHA!" He screamed out, his voice glitching and his legs kicking.

After his screen went to bars for a second, Val eased up and slowed to a stop. "Arms back up, darling, my hands are stuck~" He cooed, gently tugging on his hands. "I cahahant!" Vox said, still blushing and giggling, loopy. Val chuckled, looking down at him in adoration. "I'm not even tickling you anymore!" Vox's screen lit up pink again, still unable to calm his giggling down. "I knohow, shuhut uhuhup!"

Understanding he was overwhelmed, Val reached up and took an antenna in his hand, gently rubbing it. Vox leaned into it, his frantic giggling calming down as his breathing started to even out. The moth used his other free hand to cup the side of Vox's face, brushing a thumb against his screen.

The host opened his eyes and relaxed, looking up at his partner, still clearly loopy and not fully thinking or functioning. Val slipped his hands out from under Vox's arms and shifted to lay next to him, continuing to hold him and give him his full attention.

One hand continued to rub his antenna, making him melt into the touch, while the other three wrapped around him to pull him closer. He touched their foreheads together, and Vox dimmed his screen to make it easier on Val's eyes.

As Vox started to doze off, he knew he'd start asking for this a lot more often.

#sfw tickling community #tickle community #tickle fic #tickling #hazbin hotel tickle #hazbin tickles #lee!vox #ler!valentino

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luveline · 10 months

Note

hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻

thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k

Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them.

Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.

You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?"

"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter.

"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"

"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some."

Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her.

"You're cold, dad," she says.

"Really? It's not cold out," he says.

"You need something to warm you up."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please."

Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.

"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks.

"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle.

"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?"

"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean.

"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner."

Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.

Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer.

The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.

"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her.

"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes."

Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail."

"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.

Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm.

"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?"

"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.

"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?"

Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly.

"It's so pretty!" you say.

Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!"

"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?"

She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?"

"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"

Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk.

They must use up four or five each like that.

"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face.

"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give.

She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet.

"Hotdog, please."

Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?"

"And ketchup."

"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks.

"No."

He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl."

"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.

"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?"

You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully.

Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?"

"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?"

The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love

Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter.

Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand.

"This is the best day ever," she says.

Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side.

"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says.

"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be."

"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it.

"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited."

Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word.

"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light."

"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?"

"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one."

"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember."

"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it."

"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach."

You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge."

"You got me," Avery decodes.

"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me."

"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon.

"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time."

Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more.

Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me."

"Really?" Avery asks softly.

"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders.

A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours.

Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks.

Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year.

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sinnerlillith · 2 years

Text

teenage dirtbag

Summary: “I got 2 tickets to Iron Maiden baby, come with me Friday, don’t say maybe.”~ you and your boyfriend finish your record store date late at night. The van doors are open, Iron Maiden is playing, and the empty schools parking lot is in view. and thank goodness it’s empty [10k words]

Includes: van sex, pervy eddie, masochist eddie, power sub eddie, (he’s in a submissive position, but he’s in charge sometimes. so semi-switch eddie too) eddie has scars from ST4, reader smokes a cig, finger sucking (reader), briefly choking eddie, praise kink, some nipple play, some dirty talk, safe sex, slight exhibitionism, eddie being a dorky metal head

The proof that summer is ending in Hawkins shows in the cool night air. Tonight really is cooler than most nights, which is why Eddie made sure to bring an extra blanket for the van. You’re both sitting across from each other with the 2 large back doors swung wide open, letting in the crisp air and exposing the starry night sky with the yellow glow of street lamps.

Your legs are straight, and slightly parted on top of his, one ankle on each side of his hips. His lean and black ripped jean covered legs are also parted, letting you sit between them as his back rests against the inside wall of the van. His scuffed white rebook shoes occasionally tap your sides as he rolls his ankles open and closed, side to side. He really can’t keep his whole body still at all.

The blanket stretches across both pairs of legs, while a picnic blanket is laid out underneath you both. The van smells of cigarettes and weed, and the sounds of metal guitar solos from Eddies portable radio, on his left side, fill the occasional short silence. You two have a lit up cigarette in-between your pointer and middle fingers, chipped with black nail polish.

And if you didn’t think Eddie could get any hotter while smoking something, you were very wrong. He’s even hotter when he can have a cig in his hand, paired with a well done outfit, his glittering accessories, and dark messy hair falling down his broad shoulders.

He’s wearing a white diy cut tank top made from and old Megadeath graphic tee, underneath his leather jacket and battle vest. The neckline is cut so low that you can see all his chest tattoos clearly, and the deep line between his pectorals that his pick necklace dangles over. Every time he inhales the smoke from his cig, his chest expands into the cloth of his shirt, pressing up against it, making it look 10 times tighter than it really is.

Makes you want to drag your tongue over his chest, but instead, you just take a drag of your cig and exhale the smoke out your lips. You hear Eddie take out the new Iron Maiden cassette he just bought and flip it to the other side, closing the tape holder to his portable radio with a click.

A new tune fills the smoky night air of the van, and you listen to it closely.

“Alright, so which song is this one?” Eddie questions you, brown eyes watching your thinking face. He’s been quizzing you like some sort of gameshow host, asking you to name each song being played.

You sit and ponder, noticing the familiar lyrics and instrumental. Your face changes from thinking, to noticing, to realizing.

“Number something, uh... the beast? No- number of the... The Number of the Beast!” you finally say enthusiastically, eyes looking up to meet his with a big, confident smile on your face.

Eddie claps multiple times, flattening his lips into an excited smile and scrunching his eyebrows together. He’s careful not to drop his cigarette as he celebrates your mini victory.

Cute.

“Yes- yes! Finally! You got it,” he says excitedly, but also exhaustedly because you finally guessed right after being wrong about some other songs. “took you long enough.”

You roll your eyes at him, “It’s not my fault you’re playing songs I’m not familiar with!”

He chuckles at your argument, shaking his head a few times, hair swaying side to side with each shake. “Yeah, whatever.” He brings his cigarette up to his pink lips, circling his flattened mouth around the butt taking another drag with a smile.

He talks with smoke coming out of his mouth, “Just wait, the guitar solo is gonna come up, it’s-” he mimics the noise of an explosion, both ring adorned hands coming to the side of his curly head, gesturing his mind blowing up. His chain bracelet falls down his wrist as he brings it up next to his face, and the smoke from his cig clouds around him.

You sit and wait. About 2 minutes later, the familiar guitar solo comes up and he’s right, it’s as intense as you remember. It only got better and better.

“Damn.” you mutter appreciatively, barely audible over the music.

Eddie turns the volume up, music sounding even louder now, and he starts doing a cute air guitar solo with the cig dangling from his lips. His head bangs and shakes around, making that long hair of his move wildly and the smoke from his cig leaks all around him, and fuck does he look hot.

A little dorky, but very hot.

His chain bracelet dangles and glimmers with every flick of his wrist on his air guitar strings. His chipped, black, painted nails, finger the pretend neck of the guitar, dancing along the air frets.

You laugh at him, but then realize its a little too loud, and its late at night. You don’t want to draw any attention to you guys this late. The wrong person could see you both, and then the police would soon show up.

You motion for him to turn it down, and he shakes his head, taking his cig out and mouthing the word “Nope!” to you, with a dimple showing grin. He returns to his solo, shaking his hair around with his cig now in his ‘strumming’ hand.

“Stop- you dork!” you shout and giggle, failing to be serious because he’s too cute.

“Make me, sweetheart!” he yells over the music, lifting his pretty head up to you before turning away to finish his solo.

You snuff out your cig and pull your legs off him, moving the blanket off you both. You crawl up on your hands and knees, getting to the side of him that the radio is on, bending to the right and turning the volume of his radio down. You can still hear the music, it just plays much quieter.

“Aww babe, c’mon-” he fake whines, turning his head to you and ceasing his strumming. His hands drop, falling to rest on the curve of your knees. You ignore his whine, smiling as you move your legs to the sides of his hips, spreading your thighs to straddle his knees. You sit on his lower thighs, far back from the crotch seam of his black jeans and lift your head to look at him.

“Not trying to have the police called on us, Ed.”

He shrugs a ‘fair enough’ type of shrug, and brings the hand with his cig off your knee and up to his lips, taking another drag. You watch the lit end of it burn brighter with his inhale, and die down when it’s pulled from his lips. He holds the smoke in his mouth, not letting it into his lungs yet.

His other hand lifts off your other knee, gently bringing your chin towards him as he leans his torso forward so your lips are less than centimeters away. He then blows the smoke into your parted mouth, and you start to inhale what he gives you. Your lips barely touch, ghosting over each other, but it still gives you a flutter in your stomach at the intimacy.

Your hands slide onto either side of his neck, and one sneaks to the back of his skull, resting in his frizzy hair as you finish inhaling. Then, you lift your chin to blow the smoke out above his his head, making sure his face doesn't get a load of your puff.

He looks up at you licking his lips at the sight, finding you incredibly attractive when you smoke for some reason. Bringing his head forward, his hot lips meet the warm skin of your exposed neck under your lifted chin, planting a kiss. He pulls back and your head turns down to look at him with a smile, which he silently returns.

You feel his large palm of his empty hand now grip your clothed waist. The heat from his hand is felt through your shirt.

“Come closer,” Eddie mutters, “you’re so far away.” he whines, referring to you straddling his lower thighs, rather than his hips.

You smile, deciding to tease him a bit. “But Eddie, I’m right here-”

“Oh c’mon, princess,” he tugs at your waist, attempting to pull you closer. He brings his voice down to a cliche flirty tone, “I don’t bite...” You raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, not unless you want me to.” he corrects himself.

You scoff playfully, “Oh my god, Eddie. Whatever.”

“Ok ok, no biting.” he raises both hands in a surrender, and you slide forward. You sit on his crotch area and place your hands on his broad shoulders, over his vest and jacket.

“I lied.” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. He giggles cute boyish giggles as he leans in and playfully bites your shoulders and neck, grabbing your waist tightly with both hands, not letting you escape. He’s still holding the cig between his fingers, careful not to burn anything as he holds your squirming body firmly in place.

His head tosses around your frame, feeling his teeth gently nibble at you over and over. You can’t help but giggle and snort at his ridiculous way of flirting. You feel his shoulders shake, and his chest vibrates with laughter.

But then, you feel a particular bite that has your breath hitching. He bites at the spot under your jaw and just above the column of your neck- the soft spot that always makes you react when his mouth shows it any bit of attention.

You try to bring yourself together before he can notice.

“Ok- ok! Eddie-” you say between airy laughs. You lean back, pushing his denim and leather covers shoulders forward. This stops his biting, and he licks his lips to re-moisten them after moving all over your skin. His hands still rest over your shirt, gripping your waist.

You grab both sides of his face and squish them, making his lips puff out and the eyelids of his dark brown eyes wrinkle closer together. He looks weirdly cute like this.

“Stay still.” you tell him, no hint of seriousness found in your voice at all, hands still squeezing his heated cheeks.

He tries to speak to you, but with his mouth and cheeks all forced together, his words come out funny.

“yesh ma’am.” he says, lips unable to actually touch- earning a chuckle from you and a muffled one from him.

You release his face, smoothing your hands back to his ears, both thumbs in-front of them, while the rest of your fingers are resting on his scalp. You rub the pads of your thumbs back and forth on his face as he brings his cig up to his mouth for one last drag.

He’s careful when he exhales, not wanting to blow smoke into your face. His head turns away from to blow the smoke out, and you notice how his pale neck is now exposed to you.

You lean in to place your lips on the thin pulsing skin, giving him a gentle kiss. You pull back, hands still cupping his warm face while he turns his head and looks into your eyes. A smile slowly creeps onto his face while he stares at you, looking as if his eyes are thanking you for your sweet gesture.

Eddie puts out his cigarette, tossing the butt across the van and bringing his hand back to your waist. He looks at your lips, and then back to your eyes.

“So, uhh...” he says, and you can feel his breath hit your face at your close proximity. It smells like cigarettes and his all-too-familiar toothpaste. “..how about a kiss here, huh?” he smiles, and brings his hand off your waist to point a ringed finger at his mouth.

You smirk, “Real smooth, Ed.”

“What? Did it work?”

You ponder. “Close your eyes and find out, charmer.”

He immediately closes his brown eyes, patiently waiting for your lips, cutely trying to hold back his smile. The corners of his lips have faint wrinkles as he attempts to not let them curl up into a grin.

You lower your eyelids half way as you lean into his mouth. The moment your lips touch, you close your eyes completely, slowly kissing him. Feeling his warm lips layer onto your own- which his are just barely chapped, but still as pillowy and welcoming as ever- draws a silent hum from you.

Your lips move slowly against his, setting a gentle and intimate pace, which he follows. Your body feels Eddies hands glide down your clothed torso slowly, inching more and more after every heart beat. Automatically, your heads tilt to give eachother more access to your mouths, both equally thirsting for one another.

Eddies hands have now moved down to the bottom hem of your shirt, slipping his fingers under the edge of the fabric, and placing them on your bare waist. You feel his warm thumbs brush over your skin in a back and forth motion, while the hot air from his nose exhales over your joined lips.

When his tongue slips out to glide over the tip of your own, you lean into his body more. Instantly, your hands become desperate, wildly smoothing around his scalp and accidentally tugging his knots in his wavy hair. He silently chuckles against your mouth at your sudden passion.

Your wet tongues slip over each other even more, opening and closing your mouths but never breaking the kiss. You feel him match your sudden greed by biting your lower lip and tugging it back before immediately putting your lips together again. Your hands push back further into his hair, pulling his body closer to your own, making your chests flushed against each other, and his large warm hands move up from your waist to your back, brushing over your bra strap. They rest somewhere near your shoulder blades.

Your body reacts to his roaming hands and needy kissing by sliding your hips forward, gently grinding on Eddie. With your breasts pressing up to his chest, your hips rolling on his semi under his black denim jeans, and hands smoothing all over his hair and face, he groans into your mouth.

Anytime your breasts press into him, it makes his head spin, even if they’re covered. His perverted thoughts run rampant, picturing how they bounce when you ride him, or how they squish and mold into his hands when he palms them. He remembers the noises you make when he puts his wet lips around your nipples, or the way your hands tug at his hair while you whimper from the harsh hickeys he gives to the swell of your breasts.

All of those thoughts make his face heat up as he kisses you, all just from your covered chest pressing into his barely clothed one.

Another roll of your hips, another second of your chest against his body, and he’s groaning again. He has to pull back and break the kiss, catching his breath and trying to collect himself. Your hips stop moving in response, and you feel his hands come down your back to your butt, resting over the back pockets of your shorts.

“Aw. Can’t handle it, Ed?” you tease, even though you’re equally as out of breath as he is.

His dark eyes peer up challengingly at you, lifting an eyebrow under his messy curls for bangs. His open mouth twists into a teeth showing half-smile.

“And if I can?” he asks with sudden confidence.

“So what? You want a medal, big boy?” you mock him, smiling at his pretty face.

“No, you’ll do.” he says sweetly, leaning in to peck your lips. When he pulls back, he looks at your face and just wants to kiss you again.

“You’re sweet, Ed.” You lean in to plant kisses on his forehead, cheek, nose, and finally mouth. His heart flutters from the affection.

Soon enough, sounds of wet lips moving against each other fill the van again, and you’re both making out. The feeling of his affectionate hands roaming under your shirt, and on the heated skin of your torso is enough to make you forget all about the wholesome moment you had a little while ago. Your own hands roam around his neck and hair. You’re both just lost in the warmth, smell, and feel of each other in his cozy, familiar van.

His hands come up to where your bra hooks together, and he struggles to unclip it, making you giggle against his smiling mouth. Mixed saliva lightly coats your lips when you pull away, lifting your hands under your shirt to unhook your bra. You keep your shirt on as you slide the straps over your shoulders, and slip it under your clothing until the warm fabric is exposed to the cool night air, and Eddies lustful gaze. He watches you like it’s a peep show, and you’re surprised he didn’t jokingly whistle at you.

You toss your bra away, returning back to Eddies mouth, and his greedy hands go under your shirt again. Your tongues roll over each other, heads tilting, and lips entwine together lustfully. Eddies heated palms finally go to your breasts, cupping the undersides of them.

He starts gentle, but that doesn’t last long at all. You quietly moan against his mouth as he squeezes and gropes your chest with determination. His blunt flinger tips graze up your flesh, making it to your nipples and he rolls his thumb over them. They rub side to side, before pinching them between his thumb and pointer fingers, causing you to make a pitchy sound.

You retaliate by biting down on his lower lip and tugging it out, making him groan deeply before rejoining your lips. Your hips grind on him, wanting more stimulation to your aroused body. He continues to desperately palm your chest, large hands never ceasing.

There is a pattern of groping and grinding that’s warming up your bodies quickly, making you forget all about the occasional breeze that comes into the van to lift the corners of the blankets and carry Eddies curls to your face before they fall back down. All of your joined rushed movements and kisses brings you both to a state of sexual need that you can’t turn back from.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss, just for him to put his pink lips elsewhere. His head tilts to the side, leaning into your neck and placing his wet and warm lips there, passionately. Like, really passionately. His kisses to your neck are saying ‘I love you, but I really need to fuck you. I really need to feel you cum on me, beg for me, cry for me, and to just need me back.’

He starts licking small lines and punctuating them with kisses or bites, making your neck crane back and drawing pleasured sighs from you. His tongue is warm and wet on your pulse, his lips are pillowy on your now shiny skin, and his teeth are strong on the skin he sucks.

He finally reaches that sweet spot on your neck, the one that has you gripping his hair and making you groan and whimper. He gives it even more attention, smiling on your skin at your reactions. The sounds of his layered clothes shuffling as he switches over to the other side of your neck, trying to find your sweet spot there, fill your heated ears.

Your head turns to give him access, eyes shutting close as he uses his mouth to further ignite your skin. Your stomach bubbles with lust, feeling those flutters of passion around your core, sinking down to your clothed entrance. You’re getting wet, slicking up your underwear, soon to drip to the fabric of your shorts, sitting right above Eddies hard on.

His neck kisses feel so fucking good, but when you open your eyes and turn your head, you’re brought to the sight of the high school behind the open van doors.

His head is still in your neck, shuffling around to stimulate your saliva covered skin while you stare out the doors, not too excited about them being open. You’re not sure of you want someone to wander and see you on Eddie’s lap, his hands under your shirt and face in your neck.

“Eddie,” you whine, “the van doors..” your voice is quiet, but still loud enough to be heard over the quiet Iron Maiden music, and Eddies kissing sounds.

You feel his lips detach, and head turn up to look at your eyes locking with his.

“Aw babe, what are you worried about?” his eyes look at your face, slightly worried, slightly aroused. His hands under your shirt have moved down to your rib cage, resting there for now. He tries to reassure your nerves. “Look-” he turns his head and gestures to the empty high school. Your eyes follow, once again. “The school’s closed, and the back of the van is facing it too, so no one’s gonna see us.”

His head turns back to you, but yours is still, yet again, focused on the empty building. Your eyes dart over the windows and doors, but while you’re distracted, Eddie leans his lips towards your ear, since it’s easily accessible now that your head is turned. He gives it a sweet kiss.

Then, you feel his breath when he speaks into it, “Plus,” he gently bites your ear lobe, making you no longer pay attention to the empty school. “If some lucky soul did happen to see us- or me fucking the shit out of you-” his voice rasps, lips moving to your jaw to plant a kiss there, “-I think it would be kinda hot.” he moves his smiling mouth down to the column of your throat, kissing you, “Don’t you think?”

You quietly moan at his perverted confession and his warm, skillful mouth.

“They’d see you moaning my name,” he speaks lowly, sucking gently on your neck, “and riding my dick...” he gently bites, hands now squeezing your waist. “...won’t they, dollface?”

He pulls back to look at you, trying to sense any reassurance in your face to let him keep going.

Your eyes are half lidded, unable to keep them fully open, now too heavy with lust. You look at his pink lips, then back to hit deep brown eyes. You’d be lying if you said what his words didn’t get your mind racing. If the images he put in your head didn’t get your face hot.

"Yeah, you would be into that, Eddie." You taunt, trying to keep your composure.

He laughs through his nose, smiling, "And you wouldn't?" He challenges.

You start to lean into his neck as you speak to him, “Let’s find out then, huh?”

His lips faintly curl at your boldness, and once your lips touch his neck, he’s tilting out to the side to let your mouth roam around his skin more. Eddie takes so much pleasure in the feeling of your mouth kissing his skin, and he sighs gently when your tongue runs a stripe from the base of his neck, up to his sharp jaw.

Fuck, why does he feel so warm on your tongue?

You bring your hands to his broad shoulders, tugging at his jacket and vest as you suck a hickey onto his pulse point. He brings his own hands up to peel his layers off, shuffling his arms and torso around to slide his leather and denim off effectively. You feel his body torque and twist, but he tries to keep his neck as straight as he can for you.

Your mouth continues to wetly dote on his skin, making his eyes squint shut and re-open from pleasure. His hands, which you didn’t even notice return to your body, are resting on your hips, starting to squeeze roughly every now and then in reaction to your teeth sinking down on his thin warm skin of his neck. Your love bites make a trail from his neck, to the base of it, then to the skin between his shoulders and collar bones.

His immensely tight grip on you just edges you on even more, beginning to semi-roughly grind onto his sideways erection. You’re in desperate need to get any sort of stimulation to your soaking entrance. You’re pulsing down there, practically feeling your heart beat in your pussy just from making out and being touched improperly all over your tense body -- except where you need it most.

Eddie catches onto your fervor, moving his rough hands to the front on your shorts, letting his thumb rub over the chilled metal-like button of them, basically his way to letting you know he wants to take your shorts off. Your mouth moves from off his neck to look at his face, and before he can say anything, you’re kissing him roughly, and rolling your hips towards his hands, begging him to touch your center.

He uses both his hands to multitask and unbutton your shorts while kissing you back. His black nail polished thumb and pointer finger pull your zipper down. Once the front flaps of your shorts are open, he impatiently tucks his heated right hand into them, sliding over your panties, not bothering to take your shorts off at all. His warm palm cups your mound over the damp fabric, giving it a loving and gentle squeeze. It makes his ringed fingers apply more pressure to your wetness, causing you to moan into his mouth.

You grind into his soft grip, body still greedy for more. His thick middle finger begins to rub the fabric over your slit. Eddie massages it with a gentle pace, simultaneously spreading your wetness underneath. His touch sends heat up your spine and to your face, making your eyes clench tightly. Each stroke of his fingers draws moan after moan from you against his pink lips, and he’s not even making proper contact with your skin.

You continue to kiss Eddie harder, hands gripping at his dark hair, wide neck, and broad shoulders. Anything you can grab onto as you rock your core against his fingers, huffing out through your nose.

Eddie eventually just lets his fingers stay still, allowing you to set your own pace, rubbing yourself against him, whining into his mouth. He’s enjoying your erotic display of neediness. He loves the way you show how much you crave his touch, how much he can turn you on with just his mouth and fingers, how good any part of his body feels against you, even if you’re clothed.

“Eddie...” you whine, tucking your head into the right side of his neck, “fingers...” your words come out as a weak plea.

He lightly chuckles. “What about ‘em?” his gentle voice travels to your right ear.

You rub your clothed entrance once more on his blunt finger. “Inside,” you speak quietly, down to his chest, too embarrassed to use your words. “want them inside me...”

He sucks his teeth, patronizingly. “Aw...” he mutters, head turning to your hair, “Can’t do that too well with these shorts on, though, huh?” He’s talking as if he isn’t the one who kept them on you.

You raise your head slowly, soon to have your eyes meeting his sly face. Any other time, you would make a witty remark to your smug bastard of a boyfriend, but this time, you’re just beyond sexually frustrated. You’re a heated, aroused, aching mess that just seriously needs to be touched, with underwear that gets wetter and slicker with every second.

You lift off your legs to slide down your unzipped shorts, and his doe eyes watch your every move. Eddie watches the denim brushing down your thighs that he loves so much, sliding over your calves, kicking them off your feet. Your underwear follows shortly after, and you slightly cringe at the stringy globs of wetness attached, connecting your cunt to the fabric. He’s practically eye fucking you the whole time. His cute tongue pokes out to lustfully lick his lips while you crawl back onto his lap.

You straddle him once again, this time having a completely bare lower body. He wastes no time in having his hands move to squeeze your bare upper thighs, moulding them under his grip. His curly head tucks into your neck, like second nature, and he places the most passionate, wet, open mouthed kisses all over your skin.

His hands slide from your upper thighs, to your hips, then to the bare globes of your ass. Eddie squeezes them with an aggressive fervor, then adding his teeth to your neck. He sucks a harsh hickey onto your neck, while his warm palms grope at your curves, pulling them apart and squeezing them back together, making you roll forward into his lower body.

“Eddie...” you whine and warn at the same time, but before you can get anymore words out, his ringed pointer and middle finger lift to your mouth, slowly slipping them inside until his rings touch your lips.

“Quiet, please sweetheart.” He says against your neck, causing you to feel his hot breath meet your wet skin, sending a chill to your face. “I’m gettin’ there, I promise.” he reassures you.

His fingers stay in your mouth and you grip his wrist, twirling your tongue around them while you suck, wallowing in how thick they are - wishing they were in you somewhere else. His other hand is still on your ass, continuing to grope you as Eddie’s fingers pacify you. His mouth still roams on your jaw, neck, and collar bone, leaving marks that you’ll wear for the next few days.

All of his attention on you makes you moan against his fingers. Your entrance is still bare and soaked, impatiently waiting for attention, grinding yourself on nothing. He notices your needy muffled moans and rolling hips. It makes him grin a self satisfying grin into your neck, feeling cocky from the way your body craves for him.

“Oh baby, you need something?” he teases, knowing well that you can’t respond with his fingers shoved into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. You try to tell him you want him to finger you already, but your voice is muffled with the first syllable.

“Why aren’t you using your words?” he looks at you, smiling before he turns his face into a fake sentimental one ,“What’s wrong? Don’t you need something?” he cocks his head to the side, fake worrying and driving you insane.

Little shit.

You impatiently pout against his fingers, moving your hands into the back of his hair and gripping it pleadingly. His head jerks slightly, letting his jaw fall down to chuckle at you- and if your underwear wasn't already all off, it would be even more soaked from that damn chuckle of his.

“Ok, ok!” he says between raspy giggles, “so damn- it’s so damn cute when you pout with my fingers in your mouth...” his fingers slide out before he finishes his sentence, “...and, I’m gonna need you to hold these for me.” he says, slipping his rings off his 2 fingers and lifting your palm. His lips feel hot as he kisses your inner wrist before sliding his 2 rings on.

“Aw.” you speak sarcastically, “Eddie baby, how roma- mmf”

His lips are on yours before you can get all your sarcasm out, but you feel him smile against your mouth. And finally, his thick fingers - wet with your own saliva - slide through your slick folds, sending heat up your body all the way to your face. Your arms cross around his neck and shoulders, wildly griping onto his dark hair and melting into his body.

His wet pointer and middle finger tips slowly rub up and down your slit while his mouth silences any of your moans you want to let out. You grow impatient at his pace, starting to roll your hips into his moving fingers. The night air is cool but your body feels so damn warm, even when you’re practically half naked in just your shirt. You’re so wet that the noises of Eddie’s fingers moving through your folds can be heard through the van, unable to be drowned out by the quiet radio at all.

Every time his finger tips graze over your clit, your body tenses, making your thighs clench and your kiss deepen. His other hand that was once on your ass is now moving up your body, seeking out your tits. His rough finger tips pinch at your nipple while his other finger tips rub at your entrance, stimulating your body’s most sensitive points in the way he knows drives you crazy.

You cant hold your moans back so you tear your lips away from his, head immediately falling onto his warm shoulder. You pant and whimper into his upper body, bawling your fists into his cut up tank top while his finger tips continue to play with you. His head turns to the side to kiss your hair, muttering about how cute you are when you get overwhelmed.

Your hips start rolling even faster, body getting warmer and needier. He eats it up, the way your body begs for him without ever having to use your words. You tug the strap of his tank top down his shoulder, bringing you trembling lips to his skin.

You feel Eddie easily sliding one of his thick fingers into your heat, walls forming around it like memory foam while your lips move over his skin. Your tongue licks up his shoulder, and your teeth mark up his flesh, pulling little groans from him with your harsh mouth while he draws moans from you with his single finger. He feels so good, you cant believe its just a single finger thats getting you this hot and heavy.

But you can believe that your body is still thirsty for-

“More..” you whine, “need more fingers, Eddie...” you finish your begging with kisses to the base of his neck. You then start to suck over the spot you kissed, letting your teeth join in.

“Only if you, shit- yeah keep biting me babe,” he huffs, rewarding you with 2 fingers now to pump you faster “fuck, you better mark me up.” Eddies demand sounded much more desperate than controlling- like he was begging for you to mark him as if he was all yours, like he belonged to you only.

His request, along with his skillful fingers, brings you to a new type of arousal. Your body reacts by roughly gripping the back of his head and taking advantage of his exposed neck, leaving a few small bruises. His hand that was on your breast now grips your ribcage for support from your unforgiving mouth.

You can feel his throat vibrate under your lips as he groans. “ah, fuck-” he hisses when he inhales, “s-shit, there it is...”

His hand on your rib moves down in-between your thighs, letting his thumb circle your clit while 2 thick fingers move in and out of you, making you gush around them.

“Fuck, Eddie! Oh my god..” You moan into his wavy hair.

Your palm comes down to cup his very evident erection, squeezing at his firm shaft under his denim. You want to tease him as much as he’s been teasing you. The noise he lets out is soft, but it still drives you crazy. You can hear and feel how turned on he is, it makes you moan right back.

Your ears begin to heat up from the noises your pussy makes, thinking it sounds obnoxiously wet. But, like the pervert Eddie is, he grins at it while you feel almost embarrassed by it.

“You hear that, huh y/n?” he teases, and you can really hear the shit eating grin in his voice, “Fuckin’ love the sounds you make.” Eddie groans, getting off to his fingers in you, your hand on his jean covered dick, and your mouth leaving dark hickeys on his upper body. He is especially getting off to the wet sounds of your begging pussy.

“I lay awake at night trying to remember this exact sound.” he confesses, lips leaning towards your ear. “Wanna know how many times I fuck myself to it?”

Oh fuck.

“How many times I made myself cum from it?” his raspy voice continues, giving you butterflies as you feel his breath on the shell of your ear. “How badly I want to make it leak on me? I mean, shit- it drives me fuckin’ crazy.”

You can barely handle his fingers stimulating both your clit and your entrance, and now you have to hear his incredibly hot perverted thoughts too?

You whimper, starting to feel deliciously overwhelmed. “hnng, Eddie...”

“And that too,” he rambles, arm still pistoning between your legs “the way you say my name, like it’s all you know how to do,” he pants out a curse under his breath, letting his head fall back, sticking his chin up. “It’s enough to make me blow, like right now.”

You head tilts up, smiling before tugging on his earlobe. “Don’t tease.”

He scoffs.

One hand of yours tugs at his scalp while the other still palms his jeans. Your back begins to arch from his fingers working your clit and walls. Your voice trembles when you moan, telling Eddie how good it feels, begging for him to keep going.

You feel heat pool in your stomach, muscles contracting all over your body. You turn your head to Eddie’s lips, kissing him and pathetically moaning into his mouth. Both your hands slide under the hem of his tank top, fingers gliding over the textured groves and marks of his healed skin.

Scar tissue.

Your hands move over them, rising up to seek out his already hard nipples. Your eager finger tips graze them and roll them under your thumbs. You feel him exhale shakily through his nose at your teasing to his sensitive pink buds. You then put them between your pointer and thumb fingers, slowly squeezing more pressure, bit by bit, waiting until he makes a noise against your mouth. Once he makes a small, high pitched noise, you know you’ve struck gold.

You roll your finger tips together at that pressure, beginning to make him squirm into your kiss, lighting his body into a fire of arousal. You bite at his lower lip, just to drive him more crazy until you decide to continue kissing him again. You feel his plush pink lips vibrate against yours from his whimpers, and his hands between your legs stiffen every now and then from the pleasure he’s feeling, before getting himself back on track.

He tears his lips away, and they now appear to glisten with your combined spit in the van light. His fingers halt on you, thumb leaving your clit while his 2 fingers stay still inside your walls.

“Keep doing that n’ I’m gonna fuck you.” He warns, even though he’s smiling.

“Maybe that’s the point, smart guy.” You smile too.

His eyebrow raises and the corner of his lip follows.

You begin to lift his tank top over his head, dark curls poofing out once the fabric lifts over his face. They fall back onto his neck and wide shoulders, brown hair contrasting with his pale skin covered in faded black tattoos. Your eyes travel down to where the red pick necklace points to, practically guiding your sight down his lean body.

You see his healed scars, starting with small, yet deep scratches, then increasing to violent looking, wide spread marks. The scar tissue is a fleshy white color. Your finger tips slide over the bumps of tissue, and Eddie just stares at your focused face the whole time.

You hear him inhale - just a tiny bit, before he speaks.

“Yeah.. they’re pretty gnarly huh?” he says awkwardly, trying to take your mind off of wherever it’s wandering to. His giggle is forced, but you don’t mind.

Your giggle, however, is real in response to his light hearted remark. “Yes,” you smile, “very metal.” Your eyes break away, looking up into his brown doe eyes, glinting with the lighting from inside and outside the van.

Both your hands rise up, now sitting on the sides of his defined face. Your hand with his 2 rings on your fingers cools his cheek, and you can feel the large ring bands push out, exposing the gap between the steel and your skin.

Before you can lean in to kiss him, your eyes twitch and flutter as you feel his fingers enter you again, and then wiggle in you. Your breath hitches at his naughty way of teasing, not moving them in or out, just keeping them pushed inside you and wiggling them around your stimulated walls.

“Your turn, princess.” he remarks, rasp in his voice. “Take your shirt off for me, huh?”

You scoff playfully before bringing your hands down to your shirt, careful to not let Eddies rings fall off your fingers. You raise it off your torso, exposing your naked breasts first. Your body is now completely bare while you straddle Eddie’s shirtless figure.

Eddie eyes your chest, dark pupils switching side to side between both of your erect nipples. Before you can cover yourself, bashful from his admiring, he leans in to your chest.

“You’re an angel,” he speaks dreamily into your skin, “so beautiful.” His lips place passionate adoring kisses all over your chest, purposefully avoiding your nipples.

Your hands are in his thick waves of hair, resting on his scalp, while you continue to feel his hair brush over your bare skin paired with his warm lips edging closer to where you want them most. Your back arches into his affection, trying to get him to finally suck your nipples.

His face sinks lower, lips moving closer and closer to your bud. His tongue comes out first, teasingly licking it. He swirls around it a few times, adding pressure until he finally wraps his lips and sucks harshly.

Sucking sounds fill between you both, and your whimpers come out every time he uses his teeth. He switches between nipples, and you’re left to grind onto his fingers that slowly return to pumping in and out of you, prepping you for something bigger.

His lips feel so warm, and the attention he’s giving your chest is worth praising.

“mmm- good boy, Eddie...” The way you moan, the praise, and the sound of his name from your pleasured voice pushes him so far. He fingers you faster and sucks harder, the erection in his pants is now insufferable.

With some final licks, sucks, and bites, he pulls away, looking at you while faintly panting.

“Does this mean you’re gonna ride me now?” he asks hopefully.

You grin, looking down at his jeans, hand coming back to his bulge to give it a firm squeeze. “You’re asking me like I could ever refuse.” Your eyes flicker back up to his own, maintaining eye contact as you unbutton his jeans and pull his zipper down.

His fingers pull out of you to rushingly do the rest. He looks down, pulling his dick out and dragging his boxers and pants down to just above his knees. You watch him move quickly, showing a silent display of desperateness to be inside you.

His shaft sits up on his lower scared stomach, towering over his dark happy trail that makes you bite your lip every time you see it. His pink tip is shining in small bits of pre cum, squeezed out from your groping.

While your eyes look at his shaft, his eyes look at your body. He grips his dick, loosely pumping it at the sight of you sitting on him. He looks at your bare thighs, admiring the way they squish out because of the way you’re sitting on him. He’s reminded of they squish and tremble at the sides of his face when he’s tucked between them, mouth about to make you cum. His eyes trail up to your exposed pussy that he loves so much, then up your stomach to your breasts that he was just giving affection to.

“Condom, Eddie?” you ask gently.

“Uhh, yeah- front jean pocket.” he directs you towards his pocket that has the condom in it. Once you grab it, he takes it out of your hand, even though you didn’t actually give it to him, but you don’t mind.

He eyes the square package before bringing the corner of it to his mouth, ripping it down the edge to tear it off in one swift motion. He puffs the teared side of the package between his lips away from you both, pulls the lubed ring out, and disposed the rest of the package somewhere next to him.

He rolls the condom onto his incredibly firm shaft, making sure it’s secured all the way to the bottom. He wastes no time in grabbing your hips, aiding you to hover over his tip.

Your hands grip the warm skin of his broad shoulders, letting your forehead rest on his. Your entrance hangs over him, wet and gaping, and you inhale as you lower yourself, connecting to his tip and slowly sinking down an inch, then 2, then 3.

Your eyelashes flutter and your hole takes more of him in, and Eddie exhales a shaky breath of relief, finally being able to be inside you. The stretch of his dick and the tightness of your walls makes both your mouths hang open.

Eddie hums a deep noise when you rise up slowly, and then sink back down with a forward curl of your hips, repeating the process at your own gentle pace. With every new lift, sink, and roll of your hips, your breath speeds faster and Eddie gets more restless.

He utters an occasional curse, making your ears go hot. Every time you pull your hips forward, he squeezes your hips tighter. His head falls back, gently hitting the van wall as his chest rises steadily, eyes of his closing shut from pleasure. His hands now understand your pace and pattern of movement, so he guides you firmly, and you feel the force of his hands moving you in your set direction. It feels really good, giving you more butterflies.

Your hand with his rings on it move to the back of his neck, pulling him forward to bring your bare chests close together. You kiss him aggressively, using your teeth to bite as his lip, and your tongue to swirl over his own in his hot mouth. Your hands grip his curls at his scalp, further expressing your aroused aggression, letting your pussy clamp onto his shaft with a vice grip every now and then.

Eddie whines into your mouth, squeezing your hips as he forces them to move faster. Your kiss takes both your breaths away, making you both pull back and catch your breath while your hips continue to fuck him in and out of your hole. You’re both panting, hair still in your grip making him shiver from the way the pain turns him on.

You feel him buck up into you, impatiently slamming himself into you, matching the pace he set for you both. You moan over and over again, head tilting back rasing your chin up. Your hand slips out of his hair to cover your loud mouth while his half lidded eyes watch your every move, red ears hearing your every muffled noise, and hard dick feeling the pressure of your walls surround him.

“God d-damn it,” he groans, staring at you, “let me hear you, p-please princess... let me, fuck-!” he’s begging you. How can you refuse such a good boy begging for you?

You reluctantly move your hand away from your mouth, placing both your hands back on his shoulders. Some of your fingers are touching his hair that’s sticking to the skin of his shoulder, nails digging into him while your eyes squeeze shut, overwhelmed from pleasure of being fucked so well at the right spot.

Eddie bites his lip at the noises you make, now sounding much clearer and louder. He watches your mouth hang open, and the way you tuck your lip behind your teeth when you say “Fuck”. The way your eyebrows furrow when his name leaves your lips. They way your eyes open to stare at his inked body between your legs. The way your breasts move with your body. The way you tuck your head into his neck, panting and huffing into his hair.

“hnnn, Eddie... feels s’good-” you moan, “Don’t stop” you say, referring to the way he’s holding onto your rising and falling hips while thrusting himself into you.

You tuck his hair away from his neck, then bite into his pulse point again, just the way he loves. You lick the tip of your tongue over the divots forming into his skin, before sucking harshly. He groans loudly, head falling back once more while his eyes clench shut harshly.

“Shiiiit-” he whimpers, keeping one hand on your hip while the other pushes your head further into his neck, his way of telling you he wants you to keep going.

You smile into his neck, “Good boy, keep making noises.” You praise him, making his abdomen clench and dick twitch in you. Each roll of your hips has him squeezing more onto the back of the part between your skull and neck. You lick and bite all the way up to his ear lobe, pulling and tugging it between your teeth, making Eddie sigh a shakey breath into your own ear.

Your head comes back to admire your work on his pale skin, new red marks next to your older ones from minutes ago, sure to feel incredibly sore for the next few days. But Eddie being the freak he is, is going to welcome the side effects of the sadistic pain you inflict on him.

His hand that was on the base of your skull slides to the side of your face. His thick thumb presses on your lower lip, and your tongue comes out to lick the pad of it. The look on your face is teasing.

He stares at you, his thick eyelashes blink once before he lifts his pointer and middle finger up to your mouth. You automatically open it so he can slide them in, welcoming them once again. Your tongue tastes them, swirling around his digits as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick.

Your eyes literally roll back, and you moan a relaxed moan, feeling a sense of relief from his fingers in your mouth. You feel your eyebrows slant down, sounds vibrating around his thick fingers, so turned on by his hands giving you all this attention. It makes you bounce on his dick with more motivation.

Your vision flickers down to his doe eyes, already staring at you with drool coming out of the corners of your completely stuffed mouth. You both can now feel the van slightly recoil, gently and faintly shaking back and forth on its wheels from your rough, fast paced, fucking.

His other hand that was on your hip comes down to the front of your body, sinking to where you’re both connected. His thumb finds your clit making you jolt, and he rubs weak circles on it. His tongue comes out to lick his pink smiling lips - watching you squirm on him with a cocky look on his pretty face. You’re overwhelmed from pleasure, but unable to make much noise about it due to his fingers filling your mouth to the brim.

“Aw. Can’t handle it, baby?” head tilting to the side a little, mocking your own comment from earlier.

Bold coming from someone who’s equally drunk off pleasure. You groan on his fingers, and the vibrations from your mouth, as well as the heat and wetness of your tongue and lips sends a shiver up him. Your hips shift from bouncing to gently grinding, sliding back and forth on his shaft and into his thumb tracing your clit.

You can’t stop whining, and Eddie can’t stop panting. You’re both so turned on by how good you’re making each other feel. His pleasure from your pussy and your noises drives you crazy, and your pleasure, including your muffled sounds from the way he makes you feel, makes his head spin.

He notices how your body is reacting to him. He wants to be a little bit of a tease, he can’t help it. "Feels that good huh, sweetheart?" he taunts. “You like my fingers in your mouth, huh?” he asks, knowing you can’t speak.

You nod, eyes barely able to stay open.

“Such a good girl...” he praises, finger on your clit suddenly moving faster, making your shoulders tremble, “So responsive... it’s s’fuckin’ hot,” he groans, “I love it, give me more baby.”

Your body continues to jolt and shiver at his pressure on your clit and his dick stretching you out, filling you up. Your hips are grinding faster, rolling with a new speed and fervor. Your hand comes up to his neck, lightly wrapping your fingers around the front of it, thumb and finger tips touching your marks on his skin.

Your walls are clenching him, riding him aggressively while lightly choking him as he practically gags you. You’re huffing through your nostrils, thighs slightly burning but your pleasure motivates you to power through.

“Jesus- fuck,” he hisses, "g-good girl, ride it like it's yours."

You moan at his erotic words. He’s so good at talking to you in the heat of the moment. Especially when his words come out shakey and weak from his arousal, it gets you going. You love how he looks like he’s about to fall apart under you.

His fingers slip out of your mouth, heading to your hips, gripping them for support. You exhale heavily through your now free mouth. Your hand leaves off his throat and dig your nails into him elsewhere, near his shoulders.

You now switch between bounding to grinding on him, noises of both your moans drowning out his low volume radio, the sounds of your wetness around his shaft, and even the faint noises of the few cars that drive past the roads in the front part of the van. Your head falls to his shoulder.

“hnngg, Eddie... you feel s’good...” your voice is music to his ears. He needs to hear more of it, more of your praise, curses, moans, all of it. Your voice laced with pleasure that he brings you, it turns him on much more than it should.

“Fuck- say you love me,” Eddie groans, begging you.

Your face heats up at his sudden intimate request, stomach flipping now that you’re suddenly flustered.

Your voice is breathy and light, “I love you, Ed.” you say next to his ear.

He feels like he’s gonna explode right there. “Look at me... please,” his voice sounds soft. Your eyes meet his, trying to prevent them from closing from all the pleasure he’s bringing you. “Say it again, pretty girl” he pleads for you, out of breath. His thumb on your clit slows down, and it wont speed back up until you say it again.

You whine once more, eyes staring into his brown, chocolate colored ones while you ride him, “Fuck... I love you,” and you really mean it. He brings your head close to his face, pulling you in for a very deep kiss, keeping his wide hand on the back of your skull.

Your try to gyrate your hips and make out with him at the same time, finding it difficult to keep your breath steady from doing 2 breath taking things at once. You feel the fat of your ass slapping against his thighs, with his fingers curling around the back of your skull, forcing your face to stay connected to his. His thumb rubs your slippery clit, bringing you more vibrations of pleasure up and down your body.

Your pussy continues to leak and squelch around him, while your tongues stay circling around each other, drawing mewls from you both. Your stomach feels seething heat, making you realize you’re not far from a climax.

Your walls pulsate with heavy arousal, and Eddie feels this through the condom. The way you won’t stop clenching around him, sucking him in, moaning on his lips, even the way you smell, it’s taking over all his senses. He’s worried now because he knows he’s going to finish before you.

You pull off his mouth to catch your breath, but when you see his face, you have to bite your lip to hold yourself back. His eyes are barely open, brows creasing above them as they slant. His mouth can’t close, lips hanging open, exhaling heavily. His bangs are messy, some of the ends attach to his shining forehead. His neck is absolutely covered in bite marks and hickeys, adams apple bobbing in the center.

His tongue comes out to lick the upper corner of his lips, following with a deep breath - at least, as deep as he can get from his overwhelmed state.

“Please,” he half whines, half begs, “if you keep, fuck- if you k-keep going, ‘m gonna c-cum..” he says in the most pathetic way. His voice is pitchy, sounding like a sad whiny mess.

“So tell me to stop.” you pant, testing him. His begging only turns you on more, starting to get you closer to finishing. “I know you wanna cum, pretty boy,” you say to his sweaty, pleasured face, “so let me see it.” Your head comes to his ear, letting you hear how good he’s making you feel, knowing how much that makes him squirm. He still lets you ride him anyway, circling his finger around your bud, eager to make you cum first.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Eddie hisses. “Shit-! mm- like that, j-just like that baby,” he can’t help but be vocal when you’re making him feel so good.

His hand on your clit starts to weaken, halting sometimes too. You bring your hand down to guide his.

“No, no, Eddie- need you to keep touching me,” you breathe out, getting closer to cumming. His thumb circles back on track. “Good boy, j-just like that, there you go...”

He whines from the sound of you praising him, calling him a good boy right in his ear. He ruts into you sloppily, making all kinds of erotic noises with his perfect mouth. Your legs tremble on top of his own, not too far away from your release.

Your head falls back, shoulders shaking and contracting.

“’m close, Eddie..” you whine his name.

His hand that’s holding your hip squeezes very tightly, fingers creasing into your hip, making his nails press little divots into your flesh. Your walls grip his shaft, tighter than ever, this time not relaxing at all.

“You’re fuckin’ clenching.. too damn tight,” Eddie complains with a pleasured noise, “Oh jesus chr- fuck! gonna cum, gonna cu- ah-!”

He’s spilling into the condom before he can get all his words out, and you continues to chase your very close climax with the sounds of his moans pushing you further.

You keep his hand on your clit, letting all the muscles in your body contract one last time for you finally cream all over his dick, listening to him praise you and tell you how beautiful you look when you cum. Your hips still pulse up and down, slowing with every lift. You feel him lean forward to your rising and falling body, placing kisses to your breasts and neck.

His eyes are taking in your whole face and figure. He watched you reach your high and come back down from it, worshiping your trembling body with his lips and words, while his shaft still rests inside you.

You finally come to a halt, still sitting on his dick as you catch your breath. Your bare naked bodies grow still, with the only movement coming from your rising chests- rest of your bodies too tired to do anything else.

Eddie realizes first before you do, that you’re very naked; more naked than he is, given the fact that his pants weren’t fully taken off. They were only pushed down to his knees. He reaches over to grab his battle vest, swinging it over your shoulders and tucking it close to your chest.

“For your modesty, sweetheart.” He smiles.

Your eyebrow raises. “Yeah, because fucking while the van doors are wide open shows how much you care about ‘modesty’.” you smile as you tease him. Your hands grab the sides of his vest, bringing the flaps closer to each other to cover your tits.

He leans in to peck your nose, then your lips, and pulls back to admire how cute you look in his vest.

“And what about your modesty?” Your eyes trail down his torso.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fully clothed soon. Did you at least have fun?” His hands come up to your side, rubbing his palms up and down you, soothingly.

“Yes,” you peck his lips, “this was a fun date.” you peck him again.

He brings his fist up, scrunching his face and shaking his closed hand in a little ‘hell yeah’ type of motion. His clenched eyes glance out the van, then open wide. “Woah- is that a person?”

Your head whips so fast towards the open doors, but you see nothing. Confused, you realized he’s messing with you. You look back at your trickster boyfriend and shove him. “Eddie!” Your little laugh has your walls semi vibrate around his semi soft erection that’s still in you. He smiles at you, trying to hold back his giggles.

“Sorry, sorry!” he jokes. “Too easy.”

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

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gretavanlace · 7 months

Text

Sugar II (part 2)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: language, angst, Josh is perfect, angst, also maybe some angst

I’m so happy that you are all enjoying Sugar 2.0 as much as I am! I’ve missed this little world so much and it just makes me smile to know that you missed it too ❤️

Curled up into a tight ball under hotel room sheets, your mascara smudges across and stains the bleach-white pillowcases. And you might feel a little guilty about that if you could form a halfway coherent thought.

You’d expected a coworker, also dragged into town for this god forsaken conference, when you’d heard your name skittering across the marbled lobby floors. Turning to find Daniel, dripping in Greek God beauty and memories, had stolen the air from your lungs.

Quite literally, you had found it impossible to breathe for a few panicky moments as your eyes darted around in search of those that might be tagging along with him.

The warm, nostalgic feeling of stumbling across an old, dear friend had been overshadowed and twisted by fear…and a horrible, throbbing sadness; there was a time when this was your life…the last time anything had made any sense.

The overwhelming urge to sob in his arms had left you aching when he’d pulled you in for a bear hug. Somehow, his being so near had made home feel that much further away.

Take me to him. You’d wanted to beg Danny, clinging to his sturdy frame.

Now, you just want to run. To pack up your things in a hurry and flee the building as if it were engulfed in flames. You wish you were shoving your bag into an overhead compartment on a plane bound for anywhere that isn’t here.

This is too close. They are too close.

Three years it’s been, and he is still the first thing that weighs like sand on your mind when your eyes blink open in the morning…and your very last thought before they drift closed at night.

Has it really been three years? It doesn’t seem possible.

You think of Josh, too. Of course you do. But it is with a distant fondness for what you had. He is a pretty memory. A good memory. One you can recall easily, and with wistful affection. You can speak of him readily, with gentle sentiment. It was a great thing you had, and now it is no longer. Simple.

Jake.

You try so hard not to think of Jake, but he’s there all the time anyway. Cozied up inside your head like he owns the place, no matter how many times you’ve ordered him to vacate. He always was stubborn, and his memory has proven no different. There is a hole in your soul shaped exactly like him. Hardly a blip of light in your eyes; you left most of it there with him all those moons ago.

You could so easily satiate your searing need in some minuscule manner, via YouTube interviews, balcony seats at shows where you would stand no chance of being spotted. The wails of his guitar could pour from your speakers and right into your chest whenever it feels too hollow. You could fall asleep to samplings of his velveteen voice, rasping answers to questions floated from radio hosts and devour written pieces where he speaks so eloquently and with such reverence about his craft…

You could, but you don’t.

You do none of these things. It simply cuts too deeply.

Early on, you did. Tortured yourself as you sobbed and cried out in the night like a homesick child. Yes, in those early days, you’d punished your fractured heart and yearning mind with pain; sunk your teeth into and gnashed them together, fearful of letting go.

But you’ve found your way. Tripped clumsily along, patching together a new normal slowly. The diamond that rests upon your ring finger reminds you of that…and you feel sick with self loathing. Weeping in this strange bed over what used to be, while he waits at home for you, happily watering your plants and tending to the household chores. Loving you from a distance.

He sends you texts just to say he loves you, and so you’ll know you’re on his mind. To ask if you’d like him to pick up anything from the store so you won’t have to worry about it when you return home. To remind you that he adores you in a hundred little ways.

…and here you lie, in a bed that isn’t the one you share with him, chest caving in around your heart, squeezed up tight and longing for Jake.

Jake, Jake, Jake…always Jake. Why won’t he go away?

A knock, swift and sure, startles you out of your misery with a jolt.

You don’t plan to answer, that’s a given…you’re a mess, complete with a blotchy, tear streaked face, and swollen eyes…so you’re silent as you creep over to the door to have a peek through the peephole.

He looks angelic, waiting out there in the hall nervously fidgeting. His curls look like home and your fingers itch to touch them, innocently. Almost the same, and so different all at once, now closely clipped at the sides. He looks reminiscent of his younger self. A little like the Josh you’ve only ever known through pictures; the Josh before he swept into your life like a tornado of light and smiles. He always was so beautiful. So offbeat. So eclectically mishmashed together and esoteric.

It’s like spotting a twin flame that you never expected to see again. Like the dead has risen…

…and before you’re consciously aware of your actions, you’re sliding the lock and cracking open the door.

“Hello, sweet girl.” His voice is soothing, and weighed down heavy as it slams into your head and scrambles your brain.

“Josh,” is all you’re able to manage, stupidly.

“As beautiful as ever, mama.” He smiles, flashing that tiny gap in his teeth that used to make you weak.

“Now, listen,” he holds a hand up and then shoes away whatever notion he’s about to bring up, “Don’t you hold this against our dear Daniel…I know you didn’t want to see us,” he lowers his voice into a conspiring whisper, “but you should know, he’s become a terrible tattletale in your absence.”

Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the fact that you’ve left him standing in the hall like an unwelcome stranger. Against your better judgment, you invite him in.

He’s careful not to touch you, mindful of overstepping in a way that’s so out of character for him it makes you feel unsteady.

“You really do look lovely, sweetheart.” He smiles, “A vision. I’ve missed you, my friend. I’ve missed you very much.”

‘My friend’ stings a little at first, but within a blink, it settles and feels right - you were always friends. Friends before it became love, friends while it was love…

The Josh you knew possessed a great many talents, and quick adaptability was listed among them. He allowed the fickle winds of life to toss him about like no one you’d ever known, and had an ever present and uncannily firm grasp on relationships, and an admiration for how they can shift and morph.

He also always was a cool liar when it was for the greater good. Some things clearly never change.

Nervously, you sweep a hand through your hair and blot your eyes with the backs of your hands, “Lovely my ass…c’mere.”

With little reservation, you tug him in close and fold your arms around him. An unexpected huff of a laugh escapes you when you feel his familiar warmth.

He hugs you back, long and hard, with a soft, “Hi, baby, hi.”

“How’d you find me, you stalker?” You joke tenderly as he sways your bodies back and forth. “I didn’t give Danny my room number.”

That chuckle of his that you’d buried in the past trots out to say hello, “A trip to the front desk was all it took. Have you forgotten the Kiszka charm so easily?”

“Uh-huh,” you roll your eyes, though you’re still wrapped up tightly together and he cannot see.

“Okay,” he concedes “the Kiszka charm and maybe a hundred tucked into a hand or two.”

How strange that you had begged Danny not to tell him; his embrace is blissful and you’ve missed him terribly.

Still, there is a phantom in the room with the two of you, and you know without a doubt that he feels it too.

When he pulls back, his hands slip down your arms to clasp around yours…and he sees it.

“Oh my, mama,” he tugs it up closer for inspection, “would you look at that. Going to the chapel, huh?”

“I—“ for some unknown reason, you pull your hand away and tuck it behind your back as though you’ve been caught in a shameful act.

He tilts his head, regarding you carefully “Can we sit?”

With a welcoming gesture, you usher him in further, and like the gentleman he’s always been, he opts for the chair and doesn’t mention the disheveled bed, or its wept upon pillows.

After you settle in respectively, there’s a long stretch of silence in which you both seem to just sort of sink into being in the same room together again. Finally, he breaks the ice.

“He can’t know you’re here. It won’t be like this,” he waves a finger back and forth between the two of you, indicating the ease in which you’ve reunited.

A choked sob threatens to breach your lips at the mere mention of him, and your hand darts up to press it back.

“And he certainly can’t know about that.” Josh points to your ring winking obnoxiously in the light.

“Of course,” you nod rapidly, blinking tears back. “Yes, of course not…but, is he…” falling silent, your gaze lands on your bare toes and stays there.

“Is he, what?” Josh’s voice is kind, and you are so grateful for it. “Okay? No, sweetheart. He’s very far from okay. I should lie for him, I know I should. He’s my brother…I should tell you he’s happy. Happier than he’s ever been.”

“Will you?” There is a desperate hope in your plea that makes you cringe inwardly. “Will you tell me he’s happy?”

His eyes, so like his twins, and so full of sorrow, watch you for such a long time you begin to squirm this way and that in your seat. “Sit still, mama…” he finally scolds with the tiniest wink to soothe your anxiety, “he’s happy. He’s fine. But best if you just steer clear, alright?”

“So he’s happy? Or you should lie, Josh? Which is it?” Why are you asking? You don’t want to know. It’s infinitely easier to swallow the lie. You can’t stand the thought of Jake broken still and riddled with the pain you know so well.

With a sigh, he avoids your gaze. “You know the answer to that already, it seems. Are you?” His eyes flick towards your engagement ring, “Happy, I mean? Are you?”

Now it’s your turn to lie, “Yes. Very.”

He nods, and then glances at the mascara glaring from your pillows like evidence at trial. “Yes, it would seem so.”

“Josh, I—“

“Look,” he cuts you off, stressing with urgency. “We’re only here for the night. Lay low if you can. He’s bad off, and to see you would level him. To see you with that,” he once again points out your ring, “Would kill him. You leaving…”

A shaking breath rattles his shoulders, “It wasn’t easy for either of us, but Jake? Jake is still in that hotel room you walked out of a thousand nights ago. He never left, sweet girl. He never fucking left…and as much as I know that it’s not your fault…”

He trails off in thought and then drags in a hitching hiss of air, “As much as I know it isn’t either of our faults, I still place all that blame right here, with you and me. I can’t watch him descend any further, alright? So just lay low until we’re gone. For me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod, a thousand questions beating like bird’s wings against the cage of your mind, “Yes, of course.”

Another lull slips in to visit until he shakes his head slowly, “How did I ever manage to get over you? You truly are beautiful. I’d almost forgotten…that’s heartbreaking.”

There is an innocuous lilt to his tone that warms your soul like cocoa with the fattest marshmallow bobbing along in the mug, and you feel your cheeks turn pink under his open, golden gaze.

“Me?” You laugh, “What about you, gorgeous? I love the hair.”

“Oh, you know,” he brushes his palms over the sides with a bashful shrug, “I let Sam trim it, scissors slipped…had to do something.”

“Still blaming Sam for all of life’s tragedies?” You laugh again. You always did laugh so freely with him, and you’ve missed it more than you ever allowed yourself to realize.

He scoffs with the faintest roll of his sparkling eyes “Obviously. That’s what the youngest is for, mama. You know this. And speaking of Samuel, you understand that Daniel will tell him, right? Those two might as well just get married and call it a day.”

Another giggle sounds out of you, “Don’t be jealous, Joshua. It’s unbecoming. Danny loves you, too…and Sammy I would say definitely considers you a solid acquaintance.”

“Yes, well, my acquaintance would be thoroughly crushed if he didn’t get the chance to at least say hello to you. Maybe later tonight? After the show?” He leans forward and toys with the beads swinging between his knees. “How would that be?”

“Only Sammy?”

He holds up two fingers, scout’s honor, “Only Sammy.”

You agree, and catch up a while longer until it’s time for him to take his leave, and you can’t help the confession that blurts out of your mouth without eloquence.

“You said he never left that hotel room,” you waver with bitten back tears. “It wasn’t…I don’t want you to think…it took me a very long time to leave that room, too.”

One last time, before the door closes behind him, his eyes linger on your pillow and the evidence of your tears, and then find yours, “Sweetheart, are you sure you’ve left it at all?”

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