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munson-blurbs · 9 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home.

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal.

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day.

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface.

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight.

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work.

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus.

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you.

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two.

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck.

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day.

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates.

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. ��He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite.

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling.

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place.

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water.

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on.

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too.

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light.

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.”

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.”

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers.

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.”

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break.

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get.

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference.

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief.

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe.

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch.

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning.

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.”

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think.

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him.

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs.

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key.

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again.

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings.

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right. You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!”

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again.

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort.

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head.

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.”

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida.

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys.

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand.

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?”

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat.

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that.

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long.

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one.

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning.

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful.

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then.

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion.

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.”

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment.

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns.

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this.

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister.

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.”

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent.

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations.

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

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razzle-n-dazzle · 2 months

Note

I just read some of your works and god do you write good better than the actual show I would even say.

I really want to request a Yandere headcannon for mainly Ozzie and Fizzarolli they don’t get enough love as they do, but with a little twist

Whichever you choose I would love either one you pick cause im indecisive.

1: a powerful reader maybe even more stronger than Ozzie being lovers with the two

Or 2: a chubby but physically strong reader that could lift Ozzie with ease as example

If you do see this I hope you consider writing this, you have such a lovely writing style and I would love to see what you cook up

Also call me 🥟-anon if you will cause I hope to request and talk more

ᯓ★ Murder is Okay, Shutting Us Out Isn't. Yandere! Asmodeus & Fizzarolli / Overlord! Reader | Oneshot TW! - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK: romanticizing yandere(s), obsessive behavior, def not proof read (because we die like Adam in this household /j), Vox (/j), boner mention (no sexual content), self harm, yelling, possessive

ᯓ I actually loved both ideas you gave me, so I'm going to mash then both together into one! For that, I'm going to give you all a little crash course into the background for the Reader (you) in this story so things make a little more sense: The reader, though an Overlord, is both physically and magically stronger than Ozzie, though doesn't show it off often. Also, this happened due to their mix of blood; The reader is the child of an an old overlord and a Sin (I'm going for Wrath in this story) and had gained the physical strength from their overlord mother and the magical strength from their Sin father. With this they're able to be known as the Wrathful Overlord, or 'The child and will of Wrath', though Satan doesn't claim them to be his own and has no interest to. Also, no the Reader isn't stronger than other Sins, just Ozzie for this case. Since Ozzie is claimed to be the weakest (or one of the Weaker) Sin that we currently know of, the Reader is matched right around his level. Yet they, much like Alastor, cannot beat other Sins or even Adam, as even with their strengths, are set back by the rather large power difference. So with that out of the way, please enjoy!:

ᯓ You had been living with Ozzie and Fizz for a few months, silently having moved away from your district on the Eastern side of the Pride Ring after their proposal. While it was not uncommon for love to bloom in hell, even with the eternal suffering or the large amount of (usually) taboo topics being put on display down here, you were still not big on having your private life being posted for all of hell to see. Especially those in the Pride Ring, where you were sure Vox would take any chance to slander and drag your name in the mud for having a 'blasphemous' relationship. And really, you didn't feel like cleaning up the blood of another Sinner. Oh no, not because you killed them. Dear, Lucifer god no! Why do that when you had two perfect body guards at your beckon and call?

ᯓ "Honestly, I don't even understand how there can be blasphemy down here. It's hell, God is not watching what we do and I pity him if he did." You would mutter, leaning against the kitchen counter, watching News 666 on your cellphone silently with Fizz; Who had became curious open hearing the news topic and bounded over, wrapping his snake-like arms around your waist twice. He squeezed you a little tight, yet you didn't mind, especially when his head was rested upon your shoulder. You could practically see the growing smirk on his lips before he even spoke, "You know everything we do down here is blasphemes right? That's why we're in Hell, not Heaven. I mean the murder, the sex, the gr-" Though Fizz's little list was caught off short as you hushed him, pressing a quick finger up against his lips.

ᯓ Ozzie was cooking in the background, occasionally taking peaks behind him to make sure you nor Fizz were doing anything stupid; Like trying to cook despite knowing neither of you could do so. It was always a nice gesture until Ozzie has to get the kitchen repaired... again. "And this in, News 666 and it's broadcasting will be disturbed quickly for a message from The fucking V's themselves." Katie Killjoy would crack her neck to the side, seeming oh so annoyed at the interruption. You were too, and Fizz didn't miss the way your face scrunched. "You know Tom, their news isn't even repu-" Katie tried to shout before their segment was cut off, their news source becoming engulfed in The V's logo before the man of the hour, Vox himself, overtook the screen. Him and his snicker, you knew this couldn't be good.

ᯓ Vox never hit the air unless he knew something, unless he wanted something to happen, unless this was his calculated and curated response to something.

ᯓ And the last time that happened, Alastor wiped the floor with him.

ᯓ Fizz drew away from your shoulder a little, his eyes narrowing at your growing irritation before he glanced back towards Ozzie, who already had his arms crossed in confusion. Sure, they've heard about this Vox, mostly from you, but they never expected you to have this much of a detest about him. What happened between you and this TV-head that they didn't manage to dig up? And most importantly, recent or not, did he ever hurt you in anyway. . . or was he planning to?

ᯓ "This just in, news is starting to come up from higher-ups, and close friends, in Wrath Town that their leader, supposed their supposed Overlord, the Child of Wrath, themselves, have gone missing!" Vox stated, trying to carefully keep his voice leveled yet failing miserably; From the twitch in his eye and the wide, plastering grin across his flat face, you could just tell this was another Alastor situation. Yet an Alastor situation that was not pointed directly towards Alastor rather You; Which you had saw coming, maybe even expected it, but fucking Lucifer did you hope you could at least get a good year under your belt before Vox came in to spread 'miss information' all over the Pride Ring. All just to keep his viewers attention on him, just to keep his support. What a loser.

ᯓ You would scoff, trying not to laugh at his obsessive allegations, which were true you guessed, as Fizz and Ozzie silently listened from beside and behind you. While you didn't seem alarmed, or even frightened at the least (as they were sure you would be, seeing as this seemed common for Overlords to not get along) they sure were. Well, not alarmed per say, rather on guard; carefully lingering on the words that Vox was so carelessly spewing to all of those who watched his broadcast. And you noticed how Fizz drew back closer, leaning over your shoulder to glare at your phone, to glare at Vox like Vox might feel his stare, like he was daring Vox to say something else; All the while you couldn't help but laugh, chuckle, giggle, and kind of make fun of Vox as he continued on. His senseless chatter played in the background as you tried to wave off your fiancés' concerns, "Please, guys, don't get worked up over him, he's no threat; More like an annoying bug under everyone's shoe." "One who, from what we hear, likes to stick his non-existent nose in other people's business." Ozzie would comment from the stove, his glare still harsh on the screen even as he flipped over the bacon in the pan. His tone was leaking with annoyance, or maybe irritation and ire is are better words; Either way, you shrugged your shoulders as he continued, "Really, doesn't he have like any other news? that's all basically weightless if it's coming from other people's mouths!" "It's gossip, it keeps his viewer's attention and support up. That's the whole point," You would explain, slightly rolling your eyes at the crazed look Vox gave you. Granted, it was through the screen, but, "I would have thought he would know better than to talk about me, especially since I've shattered his screen more than once." Though Fizz was less amused, "You both give than man way too much credit-" Was the only part of his commentary he could get out, hands on the counter now, before a shout from Vox drew all of your attentions back in.

ᯓ "Oh, ho-ho!" And there was a cackle, one that caused your eyebrows to frown downwards and scrunch your face. One that rang out like an annoying fire alarm and drew a growl from Fizz's throat and a flicker of hellish flame from Ozzie's coat. It's like you all could smell that the shit that Vox was going to spew. "THIS JUST IN," And there was a slam of his hands on the table, "I JUST GOT WORD FROM A TRUSTED SOURCE THAT THE WRATHFUL OVERLORD IS NOT ONLY NOT IN THEIR PITIFUL, SHIT-HOLE OF A TOWN, YET THEY'RE NOT EVEN IN THE PRIDE RING!- Where the fuck are they, you might ask? Well, not fucking here and maybe that's for the better, this place was turning into a shit down with them around." His grin would tease you from behind the screen, and you grew slightly worried that he could see you. That, as his eyes widened and he drew closer to the screen, that he could see right through it. . .

ᯓ "You're in the fucking Lust ring, you absolute SLUT! What the fuck are you doing hanging around an, who's that? An Imp and- And is that Asmodeus himself in the background!" Clack! You would drop your phone like it had burnt you and stumbled backwards, not out of fear, you could never be fearful of someone like Vox, yet out of . . . what would be the word? Ire? Exasperation? Irritation? Preservation? Fizz was quick to lock his arms, just to keep you from stumbling back too far and hitting against the countertops near the stove, potentially burning yourself; As Ozzie stepped up, standing protectively between the phone and the two of you, the flickering of his growing detestation and bubbling anger slowly flickering around his coat, which threatened to burst flames. "This just in, your little Wrathful Overlord, has not only abandoned the Pride Ring yet is sleeping with the Sin of Lust and his weak-dick, limp ass Imp!" Vox's cackle echoed around the room, "That's so fucking sad!- Oh, looks like no one will ever have any sort of reason to be scared of you anymore," And his name spilled out from his lips with venom, poisoning the air with his slithering voice. That was, until his broadcast was cut off, cutting his maniacal laughter short, with a crackle then pop. It seemed like Ozzie had enough of listening to Vox, and seemingly had enough of your phone, as he had slammed his fists into the counter. Effectively ending the broadcast and your phone all in one go.

ᯓ And nothing but silence filled the room, just as you were sure nothing but silence (and soon an eruption of hatred and irreverence) filled the Pride Ring, and Wrath Town.

ᯓ "Fuck. ." Was the words that left with an airy breath.

ᯓ "THAT FUCKER IS SO DEAD!" Was Ozzie's first words; his hair combusting into flames, his irritation and outrage boiling over and finally having struck that match.

ᯓ Maybe it was slight shock overwhelming you, never having expected your engagement to be outrighted for everyone in the Pride Ring to hear, or maybe it was Fizz carelessly (accidentally) spinning you around, but you found yourself exasperation against the kitchen counter; Your eyes still locked on where your cellphone was now intended into the counter. "I've got the rope!" Fizz's voice barely registered in your ears, along with the sounds of his mechanical arms and legs moving to easily wrap himself around Ozzie. "Let's go kill that fucker!- or maybe tie him up and leave him exposed and naked on his own stupid broadcast. Like, really, who does he think he is trying to come for us like that?" Fizz's agreement with Ozzie's irrational solution caused a growl, a very lion-like one, to seep through Ozzie's gritting teeth, "A two timing nobody, that's who he is, and I won't stand for it! He comes for what's mine and I'm going to show him who the FUCK he's dealing with!"

ᯓ You know, maybe you've enabled their behavior a little too much; Sure, you loved the way they grew overprotected about you (and as you were sure they loved when you did the same) yet logically, you knew you had to stop them. When news gets out about Ozzie and Fizz going up to the Pride Ring and killing, or humiliating, an overlord not only will Vox's words be taken as facts, which can cause a whole other set of issues, yet Lucifer might also get involved. Of course, though, your knowledge about how Sins worked together and how they could interfere with each other's rings was limited. Yet, you can only guess a Sin killing an Overlord in another person's ring would just cause some sort of uproar.

ᯓ So when Ozzie, with Fizz coiled around his arm as to not get burnt, were about to leave the kitchen-living room, you had to act fast. Even while a little dazed, a little out of your own body, stilling trying to reel in the information of the situation that just happened, you dashed forward towards them. Or maybe your feet did so because they knew you had to catch them, and it sure felt that way rather than your own doing. It all felt like you were watching through a pair of another's person's eyes as you rushed over, your tail trashing out to stag the Ozzie's heel and trip him (you would have to apologize later). It bought you some time to slid in between him and floor, effectively catching him in your arms. "Yeah, as to hell we're going to go do anything boys! We're," You slammed the door closed, effectively walking away from it, "Staying here!" And that was your final verdict and that was what you were going to do as to make sure you can control this situation as much as possible. While frazzled and your finances' not thinking properly, giving into their own natural urges that some would call taboo (even for hell), this was no time to do that. Ergo, this was no time to be out murdering people!

ᯓ At that time you failed to notice the blush and wide eyes that had sprung to Ozzie's face when you dropped them both onto the couch, as well as the slight boner he had to hide by crossing his legs; Which Fizz defiantly noticed and teased him for with a snicker. Often times, not on purpose, did Fizz and Ozzie forget that out of all three of you, you were the strongest. Physically and magically, as you tended not to flash it off like some demons like to do, instead you flashed where you shined mentally. Though, damn, does it get Ozzie every time you swiftly come in and pick him up like he was weightless, with the same ease he picked up Fizz and you (even after you had told the first few times he didn't have to, later learning that you were conscience about your weight due to your chubbier figure). So it managed to calm Ozzie down, at least a little for the time being. Fizz would follow after, not really looking to murder people by himself - or at least not wanting to or not believing that he could.

ᯓ Calling your name from the couch, yet to no effect, the two would watch as you walked away from them to only circle right back round and leave again; pacing around the room with a constipated look on your face, leaving them confused, and slightly concerned, on the couch. Fizz slinked down to sit on Ozzie's lap, seeing as Ozzie had sat up to make sure you were alright while walking circles around them. Them both noticed quickly the way your tail trashed dangerously, the slight glare you gave to your phone anytime you passed through the kitchen, and the way your left hand clutched and curled in on itself. Fizz was sure your claws were digging into the skin of your palm, where marks from previous punctures of your claws laid fresh. "Hey," Ozzie started, calling out your nickname yet watching it effectively fall onto death ears. Even so, he continued, what's going on?" An invitation to talk to them, an invitation that received the acknowledgement of you hitting the tip of your tail against the floor to ceiling glass. Your own way of letting them know you heard him, yet needed a moment to gather your thoughts. To find something that can fix this situation without it blowing over and becoming bigger than you needed or wanted it to. To find a way to sweep and brush it under the rug. To just- make it like it never, ever fucking happened!

ᯓ Crack!

ᯓ You barely felt it, the smoke of Wrath infesting your very mind and blurring every other sense. Yet, Fizz and Ozzie caught it with ease. They heard the crack of your bone, the saw the way your nails not only had dug into your skin with the increase pressure yet suddenly broke through your palm and to the other side of your hand. Fizz covered his mouth, trying to hold in the gag that threatened to escape from the shock that filled him. Ozzie, wrapping an arm around Fizz to support him up to his chest to comfort him, would stand. . . and he didn't know how else to get your attention but exploding; Calling your name with a tone he rather not use with you. "WHAT?" Yet you would snap back, a green lining the inside of your eyes, right by your pupils. "WHAT CAN BE SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU CANNOT WAIT, OZZIE. I'M TRYING TO-" A tug at your wrist, Fizz, despite not being able to stand the sight if your claws puncturing through your hand, dragged you over to them. He rose your hand up to eye level once you were in front of the two, and he didn't want to make you watch the black blood that flowed down from it, that coated your claws thickly, he knew it was the only way to get you to pay attention. To realize that you hurt yourself in the panic of trying to fix a problem that could best be fixed together. To realize the scowl that was placed upon Ozzie's face at your actions, yet the underlining concern he had. To notice how Fizz was a bit sickened at the fact that you could so easily hurt yourself, and hurt that you wouldn't talk to them and effectively just shut them out again. Even though they have both told you countless times that you could talk them through your thoughts, that they can help you, that they want to help you! Even if you felt like you needed to handle everything that happened by yourself, even if you felt like the world was crushing in they were here! They were always here for you, and they were ready to help as long as you just talked to them.

ᯓ Fizz and Ozzie, out of everyone and anything, care about you (and granted each other) the most. And to see you physically hurt yourself over someone you told them not to worry about . . . well it stabbed them in the heart and made them ever so more concerned.

ᯓ "I just, I need time. I can figure this out if I'm given enough time." You would try to explain to Ozzie and Fizz as you sat on Ozzie's desk, where Fizz usually sat to replace any problem limbs. Fizz sat beside you, securely holding your right hand in his own and nuzzling up to you; His head resting against yours. Ozzie was in front of you, carefully trying to bring your claws out of the palm of your hand without hurting you, so he could then disinfect the wounds and wrap them up. He would have gotten a doctor, but felt a bit too fired up to let any medical professional touch you when you were so vulnerable. "Honey, get us, we know," Ozzie started, then let out a heavy sigh. "You say that every time something shitty happens in Pride. It's like- your go to thing!" Fizz added on, his tone a bit chirpier than Ozzie's; trying to lighten the mood, bring at least a small tug of a smile onto your face. Ozzie would soon apologize as you let out a hiss, feeling your claw carefully yet strikingly painfully being pulled out from your palm. You squeezed Fizz's hand, he nuzzled his head further against yours. And yet, you still spoke through gritted teeth and hissing, "I just! There never seems to be- FUCK, Ozzie that shit hurts!" "Love, I'm sorry, but I'm trying my best to make it as painless as possible. Yet, it's kind of hard when you managed to stab yourself right between your own bones." Ozzie mumbled, quickly working on the exposed wound, trying to wrap it with a towel just for the time being so he could work on the other three fingers (your thumb didn't puncture through skin, but did leave a good wound on your middle finger). Fizz would let out a nervous bit of laughter, trying to turn the situation away from your pain, just so you wouldn't have to think about it. "Hey, why don't you tell us why. . . you were so against us going to go kill the guy! I mean, I'm sure it would be easier than thinking of a whole counter plan and stabbing yourself through the hand, wounding yourself for someone you-" "Froggie," Ozzie warned, though his tone was still soft, noticing quickly how he began to ramble out of nerves. "I don't think that's helping."

ᯓ Yet you didn't mind much, it kind of did set your brain a little more straight and screwed in properly. So in a way you kind of did need Fizz's nervous rambling right now, "No, no it's fine. I. . . needed that. I just," A frown stretched upon your face, letting out a heavy sigh that was quickly replaced with a painful hiss and quickly followed by another apology from Ozzie. Your face scrunched at the pain, yet softened as you felt Fizz trying to comfort you once more. His hand squeezed your undamaged one, and when you turned your head towards his, he connected your foreheads. The distress that came from your fiancés were slowly becoming more apparent to you; Especially by the way Fizz looked into you, his own eyebrows frowned and scrunched, worry laced around his eyes. You felt the pressure of Ozzie wrapping your newly oxygen exposed wound with the towel, trying to cover it gently yet firmly enough. "I just. . . didn't want them to hurt you." The words left your mouth before you could think about their weight; Even if they were nothing but the truth, all the worry that struck your brain the moment Vox had called you out was all due to your worry that Fizz and Ozzie might get hurt. That they might be caught in some sort of cross fire between Vox and you and you would have to deal with their blood on your hands. That was a thought your couldn't bear to stand.

ᯓ The silence was thick for a good few minutes as you kept your eyes squeezed shut, afraid to open them and face Ozzie and Fizz. You could feel as Fizz leaned in, nuzzling your nose against his in an attempt to comfort you, coax you to open your eyes. But he just saw they way they twitched and you squeezed harder. You could feel as Ozzie paused, his fingers gently grabbing around yours yet not giving it's usual tug. And without looking at them, you felt the nerves build in your stomach at the thought that you might have offended them in some way, or they were disappointed in you for some reason. Yet they weren't. Logically, you knew that they weren't any of those things, yet they worrying thoughts still crept in your mind. "Baby, no. . ." Ozzie's sweet voice would ring through the unwanted chatter in your mind, almost like he could hear or feel what was happening in your tornado of a mind. "No, you don't have to worry about us, we were more worried about you. Trust me." You felt Ozzie's engulfing hand rest against your cheek and Fizz nod against your head, "Oh yeah! Our names have been racked through the mud since the whole Mammon incident. Trust us, we can take a little shit, but-" And Fizz paused, always a little hesitant to speak about these topics, "This is new to you, and we know how important your work is to you." "And Just like Sins, I'm sure an Overlord's power also comes from your reputation among people. And that guy, well, directly went for your reputation," Ozzie mumbled, his thumb rubbing sweetly against your cheek. He couldn't dent it, but he loved how they were a little chubbier than most, making your skin a little more plump and soft. "And for that I would have killed him! But you don't want that, for some reason I still don't understand!- But, we respect that. Just know we're here to help anyway we can." "Yeah just say the word!" Fizz playfully moved his head to nuzzle his nose against your other cheek, effectively earning a smile from you and a few bits of suppressed laughter that dared to bubble out your throat. You weren't sure why it was always ticklish when Fizz nuzzled his nose against your cheek, yet it was. "Okay, Okay!-" A giggle slipped through your lips, "I'm sorry. . . I should have, talked to you guys instead of-" You paused, chewing over your words. Yet, you didn't have to think for long as Fizz cut in, "Pushing us away?" "Hurting yourself?" Ozzie swiftly added after, both with their own sassy yet caring tones as they stared down at you. "Yeah. . . that." You would mumble, with an heat rushing up to your cheeks out of embarrassment. You didn't realize you were actually being that big of a dick to the two most important people in your life. Wow, you really did need that reality check from Fizz earlier.

ᯓ "Well, thank god we love you." Fizz's sarcastic voice trailed out with a cheeky grin spread across his face, showing off his pointed teeth and his ever so adorable cheeky attitude. "Or else this would be such a different story! You might have ended out on the streets, or worse, dead." And even if his words would be less than comforting for anyone else, you couldn't help but smile at them; Shooting your own cheeky glare back, finally gaining the courage to open your eyes again. To bask in your lovers' faces instead of cowering in the darkness, fearing a rejection that was never there to begin with. Something that would have never came. Ozzie took the chance to, while you were laughing and smiling and paying attention to Fizz rather than your own pain, to gently yet swiftly take out your third claw. Instantly, your tail trashed and a hiss escaped your mouth. And while he felt bad, Ozzie couldn't help but shake his head and rather seriously state, "Yeah, but don't ever do this again." "Yeah no, I don't think I can take looking at you stab through your own hand either." Fizz agreed, shaking his head. Either way, he went back to nuzzling you to comfort, trying to distract you from the pain of your hands as Ozzie moved the towel over your third wound. One more to go. You tried to keep in the giggles that threatened to escape due to their words, yet you couldn't help it. With a roll of your eyes and a sarcastic, yet playful, tone, you muttered back to them, "Well, fuck, if I ever get stabbed I'm never coming to either of you!"

Home | Masterlist Tag list: @lily-ann-b

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

[ A/N: Also, thank you so much for this request, it was a joy to write! I can't wait to hear from you again the future! And thank you to everyone for supporting my work, I've gotten so many nice comments in my inbox and I promise I'm trying to get through everyone's requests, or as much of them as possible. There's a good handful of them that request the same thing, so they will be clumped together, just because I don't think I can make enough content to make four separate posts about Adam with a Goth girlfriend or Yandere Lucifer lol! But, thank you all for the support, really, I wouldn't be able to do this all without you :) ]

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miwaqrsp · 1 year

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This is Part II to headcanons of Ghost but this time

NSFW edition

✦- Missionary. He likes seeing your face while having intimate like this time with you. Reactions speak more then words to him.

✦- High on praise and safe words. If he notices the slightest amount of discomfort he’ll pause and ask if you’re alright.

✦- Thigh man. Need do I say more

✦- Of course I fuckin will. He worships your thighs and don’t get me started on love handles. He just loves how soft and smooth your skin is in comparison to his over all. He just loves it all.

✦- Possessive. As. Fuck.

✦- He’ll mark up all the areas those who are eye catching and as well as private areas only exclusive to him to see.

✦- Is rough only when you want him to be or if he asks you if you’re okay with it.

✦- Sex is something that should be done inside closed doors and that’s that.

✦- When both of you finally have time to have sex its one of those long and craved ones where both of you feel alive.

✦- Not a fan of quickies. Would rather wait til he can actually get some quality and long deserved time with you. If he can’t shake off that horny feeling off within idk he’ll gladly will have some time with himself thinkin about your beautiful ass far from the crew.

✦- Groaning, Whimpering and quite moans.

✦- Let me elaborate: 1) Groaning: when its rough, 2) Whimpering and Moaning: when he’s close to finishing and or when receiving head.

✦- Will make sure both of you clean up properly before heading to bed of doing other things. If you can’t stand anymore he’ll help you to the bathroom gladly.

✦- Cuddles. Lots of ‘em.

✦- Stamina. I mean. Hello? He’s 6’4ft/193cm tall. Buff as fuck. And is the Lieutenant everyone fears. Except for you <3

✦- Definitely can go for more then 2 rounds

That’ll be it for tonight. If you have any more suggestions please don’t be afraid to tell me. If you want me to creat a part 3 lemme know

Also here’s the link to the previous headcanon list of ghost:

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x reader #cod #konig mw2 #ghost mw2 #soap mctavish #soap mw2 #john price #price mw2 #horangi #gaz call of duty #gaz mw2 #cod headcanons

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aaakikoo · 9 months

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Low effort scenarios with my favorite fictional man. Bakugou.

an -> low effort is what I do best lmao, I hope you enjoy this. I have alresdy done these with more effort put in them 😭 I’ll list some below.

here and here.

another an -> requests currently open, or if you want to send ideas, thirsts or suggestions feel free to do that too. Comments and rblogs r appreciated!

paring -> k.Bakugou x f!reader

warnings -> language, idk tell me if there is any other.

———

1. NOT SHARING HIS RAMEN WITH YOU

“Babe please just one bite” you said as the blond was slurping on his noodles. “Fuck off, get your own.”

“You made the last pack! I am not heading to the store for a packet of noodles!” You said in defense but he didn’t seem to care as he continued chewing.

“Babe please!” You held him by the shoulders as you whined further. “I said no.” He said taking another bite.

“Fine.” You huffed and sat your ass back down on the couch. after Bakugou had finished slurping and munching on his noodles he came and sat with you on the couch.

At first you didn’t pay him any mind until he made a mistake and placed his arm around your waist.

You quickly slapped his arm away. “I’m mad at you.” You said leaving the living room and heading to your shared bedroom.

On your way you heard him scoff but you didn’t care.

A few minutes later he came in to apologize but it wasn’t successful.

“Why do I have to apologize after eating something I ate, and paid for? Do I have to share everything with you.” He asked in annoyance.

“Well you could’ve gave me one singular bite!” You said in defense and he scoffed and left the room annoyed at your behavior.

About half an hour later he came in, this time you didn’t bother to look at him. He didn’t say anything either, he came in and picked you off of the bed.

“W-what? Hey, what are you doing??” You asked surprised, no answer. “Put me down!” Still no answer.

He walked downstairs and headed to the kitchen placing you on one of the island chairs.

“What are-“ you words were swallowed up as you saw what was in front of you.

“Stop being mad at me now okay?”

He had bought you more noodles, made them for you, cut you fresh vegetables to have with, seasoned it, and put chopsticks on the side for you to eat.

You didn’t replay, only offering him a little hidden smile as you began munching.

The man still sat across from you on the island. “Thank you. Best boyfriend ever.”

“Huge mood swing.”

2. BUYING FOR YOU

It was a Sunday afternoon and you were both chilling on the couch.

Tomorrow was your day off so you were in a good mood, scrolling on whatever expensive brands site, checking out their latest drops and most hottest items.

Also Bakugou told you he will be taking you out after his shift, by 7pm. So you were trying to see if you could make a steal for the date.

Currently, Bakugou’s eyes were glued on the tv and your eyes were glued on your phone.

The guy in the show Bakugou is watching had made a pretty funny joke and Bakugou looked down at you to see if you had catched that.

Instead he finds you eyeing a dark red pair of high pump heels. He saw you like it and add it to your list and he thought that was it.

He continued watching the series like nothing happened and you closed your phone and now focusing on the tv.

The next day you woke up to an empty bed like always when it is your day off, currently 9am and you headed down to make yourself breakfast.

After you had eaten you clean up a bit and chatted with your friends for a little. Until the doorbell rang and there was a mailman, delivering you a package and asking for your autograph.

You had told him that you didn’t purchase anything but he kept on insisting that this was the right address.

You took a look on the address and it was correct then you saw that it was bought with your boyfriends name. So you gave the mailman your autograph.

After you closed and locked your door you took the box into the living room. Wondering what your boyfriend could’ve possibly purchased. He always asks for your opinion before he purchases anything.

Curiosity got the best out of you and you opened the brown box, the box revealing another box inside. A more expensive looking one. Matt black box with golden letters from the expensive brand you were looking at earlier.

You opened the black box, now this time the box revealed a white stretchy bag, you opened the box and your jaw dropped at the sight.

The dark red pumps you were looking at yesterday. Before you could properly make up your thoughts your boyfriend messaged you.

[ wear em today ]

Is all he sent to you, you wondered how he knew that you had gotten them, then you remembered he gets a notification when a package is delivered.

Your heart was filled with warmth.

By 17:30 you started getting ready, quick shower, blowing your hair, picking your outfit. A long black silky dress and gold jewelry everywhere from your ears, wrists to your neck and fingers. Elegant makeup and your hair out up in a golden butterfly claw clip. Along with of course the new heels.

By 18:50 you received a text. Which meant to head outside. And so you did.

When you stepped outside you were met with your boyfriend dressed in black suit pants and a white dress shirt with a dark red tie to match his eyes and your new bought heels.

He greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your temple. “Thank you.” You said and pecked his lips.

“Nothing but the best for you.”

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latenightdaydreams · 7 days

Note

Please do part 2 of Mechanic Konig. I'm begging you!!! Your writing is AMAZING! I have to reread your writing every day because I can't get over it 😩

Thank you!!! I'll be writing a lot more this week, so there will be more! I finally made a part 2!!! I hope you enjoy!!🥰

Mechanic!König x Reader Part 2 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1 here! 🚗

Master List!

>cw: fem/afab, pregnancy, p in v, oral

1.4k word count

You sit in your car holding your newest ultrasound pictures. You made a last-minute appointment to see the doctor assuming you might have the flu, but being a few days late on your cycle the doctor asked for you to take a pregnancy test. Once it came back positive you were sent to the women’s health center for an ultrasound. You’ve been celibate for almost a whole year, other than your random hook up with that mechanic… You let out a long sigh before driving off.

You pull up in front of his shop, putting the ultrasound photos in your purse before stepping out of the car. Walking up to the open garage door, it’s almost like déjà vu. There König is wearing a white shirt and jeans, covered in oil. He looks up and meets your gaze for a split second before he looks down, realizing who he just saw, his head snaps back up.

“Y/n?” König speaks softly as if surprised to actually see you again. The last few weeks you’re all he has been able to think about. He’s been waiting for you to call or show back up and now here you are. His eyes drift down your body, taking in how amazing you look, and back to your eyes.

“Hi, König.” You walk closer into the garage. “Are you busy right now?”

“No,” he gently shakes his head. He closes the hood of the car he was working on and grabs a rag to clean his hands off. “Do you want to go to my car?”

Yes, you think to yourself, but you came here to talk. “No, I think we should talk.”

König tilts his head when you say no. He drops the dirty rag on the bench behind him and he looks at your cleavage again before back to your eyes.

“Is your car running okay?”

“Yes, its fine.”

“So, what is it?” He leans back as his blue eyes keep glossing over your body. All he can think about is how good you felt and looked naked in the back of his car.

“Um, so, I went to the doctors today.” The word doctor piquing his interest. “And she did a few tests on me…” You stall nervously not knowing how to tell him. What if he reacts poorly?

“Are you pregnant?” König asks, hurrying your story along.

“I am,” you nod softly, “I have ultrasound photos.”

“You do?” He perks up. “How far along are you?”

“11 weeks,” you go into your bag and pull out the ultrasound photos.

König quickly steps forward and grabs them from you. His eyes glued to the image of a tiny fetus shown on the ultrasounds. He studies every photo, a flood of emotions rushing through him at this moment. He can’t believe he actually got you pregnant.

“I came to be responsible and tell you. I don’t know what I’m going to do-” he cuts you off.

“I said that I would support the both of you and I meant it.” His eyes meet yours. “I have a big house, I make great money, and you’ll never have to work again Schatzi. You can just focus on raising our baby.”

You don’t say anything as you stand there taking in what he has said. Supporting a whole family is a huge responsibility. You don’t even know him, could you really build a life with him?

“You laid down with me, you let me get you pregnant. Please, let me take care of you. Both of you.” He reaches a hand out and gently caresses your upper arm. His eyes showing genuine intent as they fall to your stomach even though you aren’t even close to showing yet.

“We don’t even know each other…”

“We will learn,” He looks back down at the ultrasound photos in his hand. “Please.”

König runs his large hands over your swollen stomach, softly holding it as his eyes watch your growing breast bouncing. Your nipples have darkened and areolas enlarged. You’ve even been gaining weight, making your thighs and ass bigger. Your changing body is a beautiful sight to behold and it’s changing all because of him. Small moans of pleasure leaving his lips as he watching you eagerly bounce on his cock. Since you entered your second trimester, your hormones have been all over the place making you extremely horny. König is loving every second of it.

“König,” you whimper his name out as you feel yourself getting ready to reach your third orgasm.

“Ja, Liebing, there you go, let it out.”

He moves one of his hands down and begins to rub your sensitive clit with his thumb. He moves in slow focused circles making your legs begin to tremble. You slow down and lean forward slightly, letting out loud moans as your velvety walls flutter around his cock. König takes deep breaths and tries to focus his mind to not cum yet, he knows you aren’t done. Once he feels your body relax, he moves his hand away from your clit.

He gently lifts your body and leans back, grabbing a pillow and putting it under your head before laying you down gently. His eyes roam down your body as he bends down to lick your nipples, softly sucking on them as he feels your fingers comb through his short hair. He lines his cock up with your entrance and pushes himself back into you, mouth still latched to your breast.

“Oh yes, please.” You push his head away so he can sit up. “Fuck me harder.”

König nods his head as his hands wrap around your thick thighs, he pulls your legs apart and back making sure to be careful with your baby bump. König can’t believe how beautiful you look; how tight your cunt feels. He can’t believe how he got so lucky with you.

Your eyes trace the shape of his muscular body, seeing how his muscles flex under the light sheen of sweat covering his body. Your hands gripping the bedsheets as he fills your small cunt completely. You feel euphoric burst of pleasure every time he thrust forward; you clench down on him. König lets out a loud moan in response.

“Meine Liebe, I’m going to cum.” König’s voice cracks as he doesn’t slow his motion. His toes curling and eyes fluttering.

“No, please don’t stop, I’m not done yet.” You pant, feeling your next orgasm just beginning to build.

“Es tut mir Leid,” König chokes out as his hands drop your legs and move up to your full breast and squeezes them. His motion slows as his cock throbs inside of you.

Once he finishes, he pulls out and drops to his stomach, placing his head between your legs. He begins to lick your clit, his tongue flicking back and forth causing you to squirm and moan softly. One hand rest on you stomach as the other pushes two fingers into your cunt full of his cum. Curling his fingers up, he begins to finger you, quickly moving his arm. He tastes the mixture of your creamy cunt and his salty seamen.

“Right there, please don’t stop.” You moan in a whiney tone; König loves to hear it.

He doesn’t stop as his lips wrap around your swollen clit and sucks. His fingers rubbing against your g-spot rapidly as your back arches. Listening to you moan out his name as your squeeze his head between your plump thighs he lets out a satisfied groan into your cunt. Finally, you orgasm, he licks long laps up and down your pussy before pulling his fingers out.

He looks up and smiled at you as you lay there catching your breath. He has an air of arrogance about him, being able to make you cum so many times.

“I’m going to go clean up Liebling, I’ll be back with a towel to clean you too.” König leans in and kisses your belly before standing from the bed and going to the bathroom,

Once he was all clean, he grabbed a towel and began to walk back to you in the bedroom. Once there he sees you fast asleep, cuddling the blanket. König can’t help but to smile. He leaves the towel at the edge of the bed and tries to cover you the best he can without waking you up.

König decides to get dressed and goes to the nursery to continue painting, what he was doing before you ask to be fucked. He opens up the can of paint and pours some in the tray. Getting the roller covered in paint, he begins to cover the last white wall in the room with a pale pink color.

#konig #konig x y/n #konig cod #konig x reader #könig #könig x reader #konig smut #könig smut #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig x you #konig x reader smut #cod konig #könig call of duty #könig x reader smut #könig x y/n #könig x you

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wipbigbang · 14 days

Text

2024 WIP Big Bang Schedule & FAQ!

Schedule

All times are by 11:59pm PST. Convert time zones.

Sign-ups Begin- April 15th Sign-ups Close- May 21st Check In #1- May 22nd Check In #2- June 15th Snippets Due- July 1st Art Claims Begin- July 17th Check In #3- July 22nd Check In #4- August 6th Rough Drafts Due- August 15th Posting Claims Begin- August 23rd Posting Claims Ends- September 1st Final Drafts/Art Due- September 7th Posting Starts- September 8th

FAQ

What is the WIP Big Bang? Good question! This is a Big Bang with one goal in mind: to clean out your fanfic drafts folder. These are stories that were unfinished for whatever reason, that authors returned to and completed, and the art that goes with them!

Do I need a Livejournal/Dreamwidth/AO3/etc. account to participate? No! You don’t have to have an account on anything to participate, though you will need to have somewhere to post your finished work. Having one or more accounts will help for you to follow what is going on with the bang (we crosspost to Dreamwidth and Tumblr and heavily use our Discord server at the moment), but they are not required to participate. You can always leave comments anonymously or with an opensource ID.

How many fics can we sign up for? We absolutely don’t mind multiple sign-ups. I know one year someone submitted 50 fics to finish, and got at least half of them done. We just ask that when you sign up with more than one fic you give each fic a unique user ID (please do not use the same ID for all your fics...it’s important to have different IDs for the check-ins).

Will I get emails about the bang? We do send out some emails, mostly for snippets and art claims and to ensure communication between authors and artists, but please do NOT rely on getting an email to remind you of due dates. We currently do not keep an updated email list of participants, so we only send individual emails as needed rather than mass emails.

However, email is the fastest way to communicate with the mods. If you have any questions or are having trouble communicating with your artist/author, please do email us! We will do our best to respond quickly.

What do you mean by minimum word count to enter? This is a WIP Big Bang, therefore we ask you to have at least 500 words of your story drafted when you enter.

Can an outline count towards those first 500 words that are needed at sign up? We have admitted work on an outline before so yes, if your outline is fleshed out enough to cover a 7,500 word+ fic, we’ll allow it.

Are multi-chapter fics allowed? Yes, multi-chapter fics are allowed and even more so encouraged if your fic is lengthy.

What about fics that are already posted on ao3 in part? Do those qualify for the bang? It's okay if you have posted a few chapters of your fic already (you never know when the muse deserts you, after all), we just require you to refrain from posting more until posting begins here. All we ask is that you not post any public updates to the fic until September 1st (or August 1st with the mod’s okay). We don’t want you to lose kudos and comments so don’t worry about pulling the fic down, just hold off on updates for now.

Is there a minimum word count? 7,500 words for each finished fic, but the sky's the limit, right?

I see that the fic minimum is 7500 words and that published WIPs are acceptable - but what if the WIP I’m considering is already more than 7500 words? Is the expectation to add an additional 7500 to it? No. You can add as much or as little as you need to finish the story, though we do expect at least 1,000 or so new words if your WIP already meets the word count.

What happens if an author finishes the fic they signed up with but it’s less than 7,500 words? The intent was to go over the minimum but once they got into it the story was shorter than they thought and stretching it out would make it less good. Do they have to drop out at that point? By all means, we want your stories to feel as natural as possible, and if it’s under 7,500 words you may have two options:

1 - Drop the fic for the main BB event, post it now, and wait to post it to our AO3 collection in February when we run our International Fanworks Day celebration of finishing fics that are less than 7,500 words when finished. There’s no art for the fic, but bragging rights are posted to the communities for a week.

2 - If there are enough fics that fit that category, we can do a special day of posting the fics, but you’ll have to forgo art for the fic. I, as a mod, would probably pick November 30th for the posting day, as it’s the last day of posting for the bang and I don’t think anyone will mind more than one fic that day. You can post bragging rights to the community and share the fic with everyone.

Is there anything not allowed? As long as you wrote it and you want to finish it, you're welcome to participate. RPS/RPF is fine. Incest pairings are fine. Things like that I know have been hinted at in questions asked and as long as you tag for them, we’ll allow it. Also, canon settings with mostly OCs is allowed. We just ask that it be tagged properly with any content warnings you would deem fit and be given the appropriate rating for the level of sex/violence there is in the fic. Just bear in mind that while original work is allowed you may not get art for it.

I have a fic I wrote a few years ago, but only the first couple chapters are posted on AO3 because I was never happy with the rest of it and knew it needed major revision. Is that something I could use for WIP Big Bang? The entire fic has been posted, but only on one platform, and it would be rewritten for AO3 and WIPBB. I think revising a fic for posting would work, as long as you have at least 500 words done, will have 7,500 words at a minimum when it’s done, and are planning to add more to the fic. Simply rewriting what you have would be a gray area, but if you’re going to take stuff out and add new scenes, either in the old scenes place or on its own, you should be fine.

What's the etiquette around OC-centric stories? Ones that are set in a well known fandom and use several characters, but still lean a lot on original characters? Are they discouraged, or fine? Based on my own personal experience making art for a story that had a heavy OC presence, it’s not something we discourage at all, but be forewarned when it comes to the art accompanying your fic your artist may not be able to incorporate the OCs into your art. Not everyone makes art of a hand-drawn or digitally drawn nature, so it helps if you have people for face claims ahead of art submissions, and you and your artist communicate regularly. You can also end up with art not featuring the OCs at all, just the canon characters, which is not necessarily a bad thing. Your other options are to bring in an artist you trust with your vision of your OC or to make your own art (we do allow that, we just need to be told during the check-in before art that you’re bringing in your own artist if you go that route, or that you’re doing your own art…there will not be a need to sign up in the artist’s sign up, however), or to opt-out of art entirely. So there’s plenty of options to call on when it comes time for art.

What are 'check-ins’? These are a way for us to see what you've been up to and for you to make sure you're still on track. It will give you a little nudge/reminder if you need it, but they are not compulsory. Basically a form is posted that you fill out with your user ID (unique for each fic) and a checkbox to let us know you’re still participating, plus a section for any notes for the mods.

How are the check in IDs used? They are solely for the mods organizational purposes. Each ID being for a separate story allows us to keep all the information you submit during check-ins and for snippets in one line on our spreadsheet. You don’t have to share your check in IDs with anyone else if you don’t want to.

How much progress should authors be making between each checkpoint? (Percentage-wise from our estimated total wc, I guess?) Ideally, with each check-in, you should be at least 25% closer to finishing. The end word count only really matters in that the fic needs to be at least 7,500 words when done, so it’s more your progress towards finishing that should be measured, not so much the word count.

What are the snippets requirements? In order to allow the artists to make art for the story they claimed, we require you to supply three snippets from your fic, between 500 – 1500 words each. The snippets will be sent to the artist after they have claimed your story. They're to help the artist match your story for artwork the best way he or she possibly can. It’s helpful to choose scenes or parts of scenes that you feel best represent your fic, but don’t feel like they have to be perfect to be submitted. Along with the snippets, we will send your artist the basic fic info and your email, so the two of you can collaborate more if you would both like.

What are the rough drafts requirements? For the rough drafts, stories should be at least 80% complete. You will not have to turn them in to us, just assure us that you are at that point. Anything less is at the discretion of the mods and those authors should speak to one of the mods asap.

What is, and do I need, a beta? A beta is basically a person who goes over your work to make sure that there are no spelling/grammatical errors and they can even be of assistance in helping you with story lines, etc. It is highly recommended that a beta looks over your work before posting. If you are having trouble finding a beta, try this post.

Where can I post my fic/art? Stories and art can be posted to your own personal journal, Tumblr, ff-net, AO3, or wherever you like. For those of you with AO3 accounts, we will set up a collection that will go live on the day of the posting. If you don’t currently have an AO3 account but would like one, you can contact the mods for an invitation code to see if they have any available. You can also add yourself to the AO3 Invites Request queue.

What does posting look like? Do we have to post the whole thing on the day, or can we stretch it out between when posting starts and our date? I’ve had a few longfics get killed by big bangs forcing posting to happen on a given day, and would prefer to avoid that if possible. For most fics, posting to AO3/FF.net/other places will be allowed to start in September and you can stretch it out as many posts as you want as long as the complete fic is up by your posting date (and posting dates go from September 8th to November 15th with two weeks for emergency posting). However, you can send us an ask/e-mail about posting as early as August if you have an extremely long fic/something with a long posting schedule. Mostly what we want is the fic to be completely up on the website of your choice by your posting date, and I know some people don’t want to overwhelm their readers. So we want to work with writers to give them ample time to post the story up to their posting date.

Now, as for posting to the communities, you get to choose which day your link to the story and bragging rights are posted, and as I said, we have a range of dates from September 8th to November 15th with two to three stories posting a day. If for some reason you miss your posting date, you have until November 30th to post to the community, during the two weeks of emergency posting, with a possible extension after that due to the amount of participants needing to post later. So hopefully there should be plenty of time to get a longfic up and posted to the website of your choice and our BB.

Will the three snippets per story we have to send in be the ones we want the artist to make art for? Or can it just be random snippets and then later the artist and I can check together to see which scenes would work best for art? So ideally, you and the artist will be communicating once you’re each sent each other’s contact information, and you’ll give your artist a chance to read all that you’ve written at that point. That’s what happens in most cases. If your fic gets picked by an artist and they don’t work with you, then the snippets you sent will be what the artwork will be based on. It’s a good idea to know that, while most of the time the artists work closely with the authors, there are a few exceptions to that.

How do I know when to post? Posting will be tiered; you'll each get your own posting date that you and your artist will decide on together. There will probably be four fics, plus art, posting per day between September 8th and November 30th. The post with date claims will go up on August 23rd and you'll have to choose your date by September 1st.

Posting of chapters on AO3 or your own blog (or wherever you usually post) generally starts September 1st, but you can post earlier (as early as August 1st) if you let us know you have a long story. However, posting has to be finished by your chosen posting date to the comm. One of the things we're hoping to do with the posted dates is to give everybody on the comm a little bragging time in the spotlight. You know, "this story was incomplete for this long, but I finished this sucker." If you don't have time to post your bragging rights to the communities on your chosen posting date, you can queue up a post ahead of time and we can post it on the date you picked or you can email us your bragging rights and we can post by proxy for you. Either way works for us. Art will be due on the chosen posting date to the comm.

What am I posting to the Livejournal/Dreamwidth/Tumblr community if I’m posting the fic elsewhere? You’ll be posting what we call bragging rights. It’s a small form you fill out and post to the community with a link to your fic (we’ll enable moderated posting to the Tumblr, Livejournal and Dreamwidth communities for members on August 8th). We will post a template for posting artwork and stories to the comm closer to the posting date.

Is there a minimum/maximum requirement for my art? There is no strict minimum, but we do ask artists to remember that the authors are writing a minimum of 7,500 words and your artwork should reflect that. You can do anything you like, including banners, wallpapers, icons, mixes, vids, gif sets, picspams, etc. Suggested guidelines for art are 500x500px (or equivalent of smaller pieces like banner + spacers, cover + icons, etc.) for traditional art, digital art, and manips; 2 minutes for vids; 10 songs + cover art for mixes; and 6 images for gif sets and picspams. We also ask that when you are in contact with the author, you work with them to see if there is anything specific they would like (i.e. a wallpaper, book cover, etc.). The art is your work, but having ideas doesn't hurt!

What are 'art claims'? The claims are when anonymous summaries of the story go up for artists to choose from. Artists sign-ups and art claims are the same thing; we use one form for both things, and that way the authors don’t have to sign up for an event they may not end up participating in. It is based on a 'first come, first served' basis and artists may choose up to three potential stories (in case their first choice is unavailable). If there are more stories than artists, there will be a second round of claims wherein artists may choose a second story to work with. And on until all stories are claimed for art.

If a fic up for claiming is rated explicit (R, NC-17, etc.), please only claim the story if you are over 18 years of age. Some authors may be uncomfortable working with underage artists on explicit works. We do not verify ages in any way for the bang, so this is solely on the honor system.

What do I do if I have problems or concerns about my author/artist? Sometimes authors and artists do not get along and this may cause problems with working together. If this happens to be the case with you, please email the mods and we will try to do what we can so that everyone has a chance to have fun at WIP Big Bang!

If you have not heard from your author/artist in some time after trying to contact them, you can reach out to us via email and we will try to get in touch with them for you.

Can I get an extension? Community extensions may be given in the event that the majority of the authors/artists need one. They may also be given individually under certain circumstances, but this must be discussed with the mods and will only be a short extension for posting. If you are certain that you won’t be able to finish your story in time, please let us know by July 13th.

Can I swap out a fic if my muse abandons it again? When you sign up, you give us the information on the potential fic(s) you want to write. If, say, one fic isn’t working but one you didn’t sign up for is, you can switch them out while letting the mods know if you need to change a user ID you used. It is absolutely okay to switch fics all the way up until snippets are due. By then, we hope you’ll have however many fics you plan on doing to at least 80% completion since rough drafts are due not much later. Just drop an email to the mods at [email protected] with the new information (title, fandom, etc) and if you want a new sign in ID or plan to use the same one for the fic you’re replacing it with.

Can I drop out? We have high hopes that everybody who signs up can actually finish the round and share in the joy of the reveal with us, but real life can unfortunately get in the way and we completely understand! If you feel like you just cannot finish in time and no amount of assistance from us can help you, just let us know by August 13th (if at all possible).

Is it possible to be banned? We do have a banned users list. We hope to use this to encourage participants who are having issues to communicate with the mods. We want to help you! The way the ban works is that participants, either authors and artists, will be banned for dropping out without notifying a mod. This means that anyone who has not posted or talked to a mod by the time the posting period ends will be banned. Dropping out is not in and of itself a banning offense, so please do not panic if you have to drop out! We understand that there are many reasons you may need to drop, and we want to work with you.

Bans will last one round or until the issue is resolved, whichever comes first. To resolve a ban, authors will have to finish and post the story they signed up with and artists will have to finish and post the art for the story they claimed. Three bans will result in a permanent ban from the bang.

Are we allowed to participate without joining the Discord? Absolutely! The Discord server is optional, as just another way to interact with your fellow writers and get updates on important dates. It’s not mandatory you join, however.

I was just wondering if there’s any way to enter the bang anonymously? Like would it be okay to put our work in an anonymous collection on ao3 or something? Unfortunately, I can’t think of a way for that to work. The collection that we use is moderated but it’s not anonymous, and there are the bragging posts that you post on your posting day, which you would have your username on whichever platform you use.

I was just wondering whether I'm sworn to secrecy on which fics I'll be finishing up, or if I can shout it out to the world? No one is sworn to secrecy once they’ve signed up (aside from posting new parts to fic that’s already up somewhere…we ask that you refrain from doing that until at least July 1st)! We will be running Word Wars, where you can add more to a fic in a certain amount of time, and Whine Bars, where you can complain or ask for help or whatever else you feel like talking about when it comes to struggling with a fic, all after sign-ups end on a weekly basis, plus there’s the Discord server for chatting with your fellow authors and artists.

I have a question/concern that’s not mentioned here. If you need help, you can always contact a mod and we will do our best to make sure that you get your story/art finished. The best and fastest method of contact is through our email, [email protected].

#wip big bang #!admin #!2024 #signal boost

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springseasonie · 8 months

Text

Auralism Pt. 3 | PJS (M)

Voice actor Jisung x fem reader

Part 1. Part 2.

Summary: Your minimum wage job at a cafe brings you little to no joy. That was till an unexpected person walked through the door during your closing shift, making your day a lot more eventful.

Warnings: sexual content, dom Jisung, big dick Jisung, public sex, oral (fem and male receiving), face hitting/smacking (not enough to hurt the reader), fingering, cum eating, almost (actually) caught, face riding, face fucking, deep voice Jisung the whole time, hes very talkative

Word count: 6,3k

A/N: hey (laughs nervously) I haven't posted anything in almost a month ik it's criminal lmao. Life has been beating my ass. I hope you guys enjoy it I suffered writing this. Feedback is loved and appreciated 🤍🤍

He did it. He actually did it.

Jisung did a face reveal.

And God, was he one of the finest men you've ever seen. His big brown eyes, sharp nose, plump lips. If sex was a person it would probably be him. He looked better than anything you've ever imagined and deep down you're glad he was handsome because it couldn't break your fantasy. But now your fantasy could be ten times greater.

And unfortunately for you, it means you'll be all the more crazier. Masturbating to his voice is one thing, but you took a jump and masturbated to his face. Now you're at work, trying to clean the tables of the cafe as you attempted to push the events of the night prior to the back of your head. Very rarely are you embarrassed, but this was a new low. But was it really your fault that the center of all your orgasms just happened to be just as hot as his voice?

You're busy scrubbing the tables when you hear the bell on the door ring. It was the middle of closing and you just wanted to make it home to rest at a reasonable hour.

"I'm sorry sir, we're about to close in 10 minutes," you said, still wiping down tables.

"I'm sorry, you guys are the only people open right now and I really need some coffee."

Your heart dropped as soon as you heard his voice. Looking up slowly, you looked at him, standing there in front of you. "I-I…I.."

Jisung looked at you confused, brows furrowed not knowing what's wrong with either you or him. He watched as you gulped, going a bit wide eyed as you kept staring at him. "Are you okay?"

You were usually really good at masking your emotions from your many hours in this job, but this time couldn't be helped. If there was a list of the top ten embarrassing moments of your life, this would definitely be number one. You couldn't even respond to him, hands trembling on your sides slightly. But you had to pull it together, fake it till he left.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," you said, but he still looked at you worried. "We're going to close soon though."

"I know…but I really need coffee. Is an Americano okay," he asked, voice whining as he begged.

You gulped as his voice hit your ears, growing more and more aroused as you stood there listening. You couldn't help but stare at him in all his glory. He's tall, probably about 5'11 from where you were standing. He's wearing shorts and a hoodie, but he looks to be pretty muscular and in good shape. You watched as he pulled his wallet out the pocket of his hoodie, the way his fingers were wrapping around the object. You always thought he was just hyping himself up for the audios but fuck, his hands were big. Fingers were long too just like he said.

You didn't notice how long you were checking him out until you heard him clear his throat. Startled, your eyes search to look at anything but him. You really want to go home for the night, but making his coffee as an excuse to keep staring at him is a better idea.

"I don't know if you're tired or not but you keep staring at me," he said, giving you a warm chuckle.

You blinked, snapping out of the trance you were in and looked up at him. "Yeah sorry, I'm exhausted," you laughed, trying not to make the atmosphere stiff. "I’ll make you coffee. Just sit over here."

Jisung walked over to the stool, climbing on the chair as you went behind the counter. You began making his drink, not speaking a word as you worked. The lights in the cafe were dim, giving his features pretty lighting. The way the light hit his long lashes and pretty lips turned your legs to putty. You weren't even paying attention to what you were doing, spilling some of the ice on the ground.

Jisung looked up from his phone, brow raising as he watched you scramble to clean it up. Jisung noticed how jittery you were since he walked in and couldn't understand why. At first, he thought it was just because you were tired, but he saw you staring at him, sneaking gazes a little too much. He wondered what was on your mind, why exactly you kept looking at him. You were definitely his type from a looks standpoint too so maybe he should make the atmosphere less awkward.

Jisung cleared his throat as he looked at you across the counter, gaining your attention for a second. "So, are you from around here?"

You continued making his coffee, pouring 2 shots of espresso in the cup. "Yep, born and raised," you answered, trying to keep your composure. "What about you?"

"Just moved out here a couple of weeks ago," he answered, pushing his hair back.

You froze for a second, processing his words. He's been around you this whole time and you had no idea? Of course you would have no idea, you had no idea who he was up until the night prior. But the fact remained that you could have spoken to him at any time, completely unaware that he was the man making your day worth it every night.

"Really," you said, pouring the espresso over the ice. "Are you in school or anything?"

"Yeah, I'm in uni," he nodded. You watched as he licked his lips following his answer.

"What's your major?"

"Computer science."

You snickered to yourself. No one would ever guess he was a computer science major based off of his reddit content. He seemed like a completely different person offline, nothing like you imagined but you liked that. "So you live on campus or..?

"Oh no I have my own place that I rent out," he answered, shaking his bangs from his face. You were too focused on making his coffee to notice him eyeing your body from across the counter. If you did notice you'd probably melt or something, he's very careful with his looks.

"Really? This city is pretty expensive to live in, especially as a college student," you said. "Sugar?"

"Oh yeah, sure," he answered.

You nodded and added sugar before putting the cover on the plastic cup. You placed it in front of him, giving him a small smile. "It's on the house."

He looked at you surprised, but shook his head. "No, no. I'll pay, I'm holding you up anyway."

"Okay if you say so," you said and laughed softly. You started cleaning the coffee machines, throwing the grounds in the trash and throwing the dirty utensils used for the day into the sink. "So," you said trying to fill the silence, "do you do anything else besides school?"

"Oh yeah, I work," he said, sipping his coffee. But you knew that already. You knew his job, and you knew it very well.

"What's your job?"

Jisung glanced at you, who was looking at him intently. He didn't know what to say. Should he tell the truth or just give a vague lie? He wasn't exactly open about his job, but he took a leap of faith the night prior with his face reveal. People were bound to recognize him sooner or later.

"I do a bit of voice acting," he said, taking a sip right after.

"Really? Voice acting and computer science are really different things," you said leaning on the counter.

"Well, a lot of people told me I should try. They said I have a nice voice."

"They were right," you complimented. "It's really nice." You didn't realize how you said it, but your sudden tone change made Jisung quirk his brow. You were really trying to keep it together but the more he spoke, the more memories flooded in your head of every single time you laid in your bed cumming for hours to his voice. You felt your hands twitch looking at the man, his eyes never really leaving your leaning frame as you looked at him in silence, heart and head racing.

"Thank you." Jisung took another sip, but this time it was slow as he kept eye contact with you. The air grew thicker, you looking prettier than when he first walked in as he kept his eyes on you. "I never really asked you about yourself. What do you do besides this?"

"Go to school, write a bit, nothing special," you answered.

"Mhm.."

At this rate, you were probably going to slip up if he kept making noises like that. Sweat was collecting on your temple from your raging hormones – it was almost becoming too much to bear. All you think about it was him fucking you against the counter, hand wrapped around your throat as he whispered nasty things in your ears. He was so hot just sitting there drinking, you felt like a hormonal teenager. Your underwear was not surviving the night dry. You lifted yourself off the counter and went to the sink full of dishes, sticking your hands in the water to clean them.

"What do you write," he asked, typing on his phone.

"In school I do a lot of research reports, but I write lots of fiction in my own time," you answered.

Jisung hit the post button, placing his phone on the counter. However it didn't go unnoticed how yours buzzed at almost the exact same time. Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just a weird thing that happened at the moment, but maybe the thought in the back of his head was right the whole time. Maybe you did know who he was and that was why you were acting weird when he first walked in.

You picked up your phone, checking the notification to see it was a post by the very many sitting in front of you. You read it, reading something about him being bored so there was probably going to be a surprise later that night. Right as you glanced up at him from your phone, he was staring right at you, a smirk tugging in his lips.

"So you do know me," he chuckled softly.

"What? I don't know you." You were completely caught off guard by the sudden accusation. The whole time, you thought you were doing so well in masking it, but somehow he found you out.

Jisung took another sip of the cold drink, gulping as he chuckled at your panicked response. "It's okay, you don't have to be nervous." He licked his lips pausing before speaking. You were clearly uncomfortable with the exchange and he should probably stop, but he wanted to have fun with it. "You listen to my stuff often?"

"I…" You blinked, not sure if you wanted to answer his question. You were standing there in a room alone with him just like you always imagined. So many times in your head, you had scenarios of how you would meet him, but at your job wasn't one of them.

"What? Are you embarrassed," he laughed.

"I'm not embarrassed, this is just not the way i thought it'd go," you admitted, mumbling.

"Meeting me? That's cute, you thought about it," he said, resting his face on his palm. "I never asked you your name."

"Y/N," you answered.

"Well, Y/N, I'm glad that I have pretty people like you that listen."

There it was, his soft soothing bedroom voice that made you lose your mind. You were about to respond when he cut you off unexpectedly. "Do you touch yourself listening to them?"

If life were a TV show, there would be a room full of gasps with no one around. You couldn't even move, just keep squeezing your thighs together like you were doing for the past 5 minutes. You felt small with the way his eyes lingered on you, waiting for you to answer.

"You don't have to answer if you want to. I was just curious," he said, giving you a kind smile.

"I-I do."

He nodded, smirking to himself at your change in body language. Nothing turned him on more than knowing you listened to his voice and came from just that. Knowing he could give you pleasure without even looking at you, touching you, doing anything but speak to you was starting to make him hard. Of course he knew all these things happened regardless but having living proof in front of him made his mind reel.

"How often?" He tilted his head slightly, watching you lick your lips as you looked away from him, wiping your hands on your apron.

"Really often.."

"Like every night?"

"Something like that." You said you weren't embarrassed about it before, but somehow this situation is probably the worst thing that could have happened to you. You felt like you were caught doing something wrong, like he was interrogating you in a way. But you liked it, you enjoyed the feeling. It made every fiber in your body tingle, making you even more excited.

"That's cute," he spoke softly. "Do you have a favorite?"

You looked at him then at the time. It was now 20 minutes past 8 and everyone should've long been out, but you've been entertaining the man of your dreams for a while. You couldn't possibly just kick him out, not when he seems as into you as you are into him.

"A couple," you answered honestly. You were beginning to feel shy answering all his questions, telling him about how privately obsessed you were with him. But you had no idea that every answer you gave him was only making him harder and harder underneath his sweats. Jisung meant it when he says the thought of his fans touching themselves to his voice turns him on. He thought about it all the time, but now that there is a living breathing example of this, he feels like he had to drag this out.

"Let me guess your favorite one," he said. "Alone time, date with you, couldn't sleep, stress relief…"

Your breath hitched hearing the title of the audio you were listening to the night prior. Jisung gave you a dry chuckle, licking his lips as you stood there completely still. The sheer power he had over you was astounding and it sent his mind to crazy places. "You like that one don't you?"

You nodded, gulping at the way he stares at you.

"What's your favorite part?" Jisung's fingertip circles the rim of the cup slowly, questions burrowing into your brain.

"I'm…not answering that," you said quietly.

"Why not," he teased playfully. " Would you like it better if I repeated some things to jog your memory?" He stood up from the stool, making his way behind the counter slowly. You watched Jisung walk behind your counter as you backed away after every step he took. His long legs got to you quicker than you expected, making you lean against the counter as you tried to move away from his large frame. Jisung planted a firm hand next to you, moving your body closer to his as he caged you in.

Leaning down to your ear, the soft tickle of his breath made you shiver. You looked at him, side eyeing the man as you watched every move he made hyper aware of whatever he was doing or saying.

"Does my voice turn you on, hm? Does it make your pretty pussy wet?" Jisung laughed darkly watching the visceral reaction you had to his word. You gasped softly, knees almost going weak immediately as you whipped your head to him, making him raise a brow at you. "Was it that one, or maybe it's an even better line. What about "I know you want my big cock to stretch you good. If I had you I'd fuck you so good you wouldn't remember your name." "

Your mouth parted slightly going dry hearing the words he said in the mic hit your ears in real time. This was definitely a fantasy you played in your head over and over, a reoccurring wet dream that started feeling lucid. At this point you couldn't tell if it was real or fake, if he was actually standing in front of you or if you were genuinely crazy.

"So which one, hm? Or should I keep reciting more lines," he asked, smirk on his face as he scanned your expression.

"Those were fine," you responded breathlessly. At this point, his face was extra close to yours. You couldn't look him in the eyes, afraid you'd fall to your knees and beg him to touch you so you opted for his lips instead. But oh boy, was that a bad idea, because now you couldn't stop thinking about kissing him, his lips all over your body, how they would feel all over your core.

Jisung stares at you, emotions coming to a standstill as he feels his dick becoming fully hard in his pants. This could either go one of two ways: he fucks you on this counter or rubs one out at home. But it's not looking like the second option is happening anytime soon. Not when he happened to be in a situation where 2 of his fantasies could happen at once.

"Do you have any other favorites? I could repeat some more stuff," he said. Jisung licked his lips as he eyed you, watching you squirm slightly under him. "Or maybe we can reenact it."

"Yes," you answered almost too quickly. "I-I wanna reenact it."

Jisung placed his hand on your hip, pressing his fingertips into your side. Your mind went fuzzy, his hands on your body turning your aching core into a pool. You could cum just from his hand on your hip and it wasn't even touching your bare skin. "Tell me which one and I'll make it happen, beautiful."

"7 minutes in heaven," you answer quietly, looking down at your feet. You don't know why you felt so embarrassed telling him about that particular audio, but it was another one you listened to often also. It was one of the rare audios where he showed his rough side, the side that would linger in your head for days to come.

Without a word, he chuckled softly, taking your chin between his fingers and lifting your head. "You're a little pervert, you know that right? Get on the floor."

You kneeled down directly in front of him, pants getting wet from the pool of melted ice from earlier. It hadn't registered that you were doing this in an area where anyone could walk by, where cameras are pointed, but you were far too gone. You looked up at him, breathing heavily as he stared down with hungry eyes.

"Tell me what you liked about it."

"How demanding you were," you mumbled.

He gave you a dry chuckle, licking his lips as he stared down at you. "Suck my dick." You looked up at him, brows raised high as you remained still. Jisung looked at you mockingly, tilting his head when you didn't move. "You can't hear all of a sudden? Suck my dick."

Jisung didn't have to say a word before your hands flew to the waist of his sweats, untying the string. Your fingers made quick work of the knit, but your hands hesitated to go into his pants. You couldn't believe this was actually happening. You were going to fuck the man of your dreams.

"Don't hesitate," he said softly.

You gulped nervously, nodding as you pulled the waist of his sweats and boxers down enough to allow his fully hard cock to spring out. Jisung could tell how numb your brain was at this point, the way you took him in your hands, stroking him slowly. Your breath was shaky despite not doing a thing but kneeling. Jisung wonders if this is something you've dreamt about, something you hoped for. But he no longer has to wonder seeing how you close your eyes, licking and wrapping your mouth around his tip in pure bliss.

Your mouth wrapped around the head, sucking it softly as the small beads of precum hit your tongue. Naturally, you took your hand, wrapping it around his shaft stroking as you sucked him softly. You opened your eyes, lashes fluttering as you looked at the man above you. Jisung watched you intensely, eyes never leaving yours as you bobbed your head. His large hand took a hold of the back of your head, rubbing circles into your scalp as you kept going.

The lights were still on, all windows open on the dark street. Anyone who walked by could probably tell you were on your knees, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was finally being able to make the man in your audios cum like you always wanted. Soon, Jisung's hold on your head became rougher, guiding your mouth lower and lower, more and more. You moaned softly around him, looking up as your brows furrowed.

"Yeah, take it," he mumbled, moaning softly.

It was just like his audios, the soft dominant tone he took to the mic. It almost made your head spin.

"You like having that pretty mouth on my cock?" You moaned and nodded in response, earning a smirk from him. Jisung pulled himself out of your mouth giving you a chance to breathe as he forced you to look at him. "Use your words princess."

"Yes, yes I do."

"Good girl." Jisung parted your lips with his tip, your jaw gladly dropping for him. You stuck your tongue out, taking him while in your mouth and throat. Jisung rocks into your mouth slowly, savoring the way you feel around him. Jisung's moans and groans made you drunk right off his sounds, the only things you're able to focus on is his voice and his cock.

"Look at you," he groaned softly. "looking at me with those big pretty eyes, you're such a good girl Y/N."

He kept thrusting slowly, gradually speeding up making you furrow your brows. You held onto his pants, gripping the fabric as he fucked your throat, sucking him at the same time. Jisung closed his eyes, throwing his head back as his breathing increased just like in his audios.

Your throat tightened around him, saliva messy and all over your chin. His groans and moans were music to your ears, making you want to do more than just a blow job. Just then, you feel a smack on your cheek, not enough to hurt you, but just for the impact. You looked up at him, moaning as he grabbed your hair rougher.

"You liked that? You like it when I smack you," he asked condescendingly. You wished you could answer but your mouth is occupied at the moment. Another smack landed on your face followed by a dark chuckle from the man above you. "You've been dreaming of this haven't you Y/N. C'mon, answer. Oh wait…you can't with your mouth full of my cock can you?"

Jisung kept fucking your mouth at a steady pace, pulling out periodically to let you catch your breath. He was constantly edging himself, moans and grunts becoming louder every time he was close and closer to his orgasm. The scene of you below him was messy. Saliva falling from your mouth, lips swollen and puffy, face absolutely fucked out. He loved it.

"Fuck I can't take this anymore," he mumbled. Jisung pulled himself out of your mouth, giving you a second to catch your breath. "Stand up, I need to taste you."

Jisung took your hands, helping you stand. You instantly leaned on the counter as he dropped to his knees, untying your apron. You took the fabric off your body, dropping it on the counter as he undid your jeans. Jisung pulled them down with your underwear to your ankles.

"Fuck," he said breathlessly, looking at the wetness between your legs. "Fuck, I do this to you?"

You nod silently, a little too turned on to even form words. Jisung smacks the side of your leg, rubbing the spot with his thumb softly right after. "Speak, princess."

"Y-yes you do. All the time. Every night."

Jisung licks his lips, eyes flickering between your face and your soaked core. His breathing was ragged, gulping silently as he just stared at you. "Can I eat your pussy?"

"Fuck yes."

That's was all he needed to dive into your core making you spread your legs even wider for him. Jisung lapped up your juices like a dehydrated man, moaning and whimpering all over your sensitive clit. It wasn't until you looked down at him that you realized he was jerking himself off to eating you out. Jisung flicked his tongue against your clit, stimulating the swollen bud.

"Fuck, oh my god," you moaned softly, voice cracking from the surge of pleasure.

Jisung smiles against your cunt, eyes heavy as he watches you in lust. "You like that, pretty girl?"

"Yes, keep going.."

Jisung never broke eye contact with you, working on himself as he worked to make you cum. You began to rock your hips against his face, his sharp nose nudging your clit ever so slightly making your head spin.

Just at that second, you heard the front door open the sound of the bell ringing in the silent room. In a split second, your hand connects with Jisung's head, pushing him away from your aching cunt. You spun around, looking at the door to see your coworker, Chenle.

"H-hey, I thought you went home for the night," you said. You were speaking a bit louder unintentionally, trying to seem as normal as possible.

"Yeah, but I realized that I left something in the back so I had to come before someone locked up the shop," he said.

You nodded in understanding. You were starting to feel like you could pull it off until you felt Jisung lick a stripe on your cunt as you bent over on the counter. You sucked in a sharp breath, exhaling shakily as you covered your mouth. Thank goodness the counters were so high so Chenle couldn't see the way the younger man was working on your pussy.

"Um, Y/N, are you okay? You look kind of uncomfortable," he asked, looking at you confused.

Jisung moved on from your clit to your entrance, lapping up your arousal. You clenched your jaw feeling his fingers come into contact with your sensitive clit, rubbing the bud in circles.

"Yeah I'm fine, just a stomach ache that's all," you lie. Chenle looks at you, squinting at your unsure answer, but shrugs and walks away.

"You know what's good for stomach aches? Soup," he says.

"I'm pretty sure everyone knows that, Chenle." Jisung chuckles under his breath, lapping at your entrance as he pressed his fingers harder on your clit, making your knees go weak. Thankfully for you, your body was being held up by the counter. "Well hurry up, I want to lock up and go home soon."

"Oh, well I can help you ou-"

"No!" Chenle raised his brows, furrowing them at your sudden denial. "I-I just wanna close alone tonight. It wasn't very busy anyway. I-I can close alone." You couldn't really control the way you spoke at this point, not when Jisung was now rubbing your entrance with his soft fingers, placing soft kisses on your ass. Jisung slowly plunged his fingers inside of you, giving you the stretch you desperately needed.

"Are you sure you're okay," he asks, staring at your flustered expression.

"I'm fine, just a little pain. It's nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Chenle nods, feeling unsure about your answer, but too tired to probe any further. "Okay..if you say so. I'm gonna get my stuff and leave through the back," he said.

"That's fine, just make sure to lock the door on your way out."

You watched Chenle as he nodded and walked away into the back. Watching the door close, you immediately collapse onto the counter, body spent from trying to remain as normal as possible in front of your coworker. Jisung was in awe at how you began to move your hips against his fingers, the desperation in your movements and soft moans. Cunt so wet, your arousal began dripping down his hand. The sound of his fingers moving in and out of you filled the space, your soft whines filling his ears.

"J-jisung, oh fuck," you moaned softly. "I-it feels so good."

"I know baby, I know, but we don't want your friend catching us, do we," he mumbled.

"N-no. I'll keep quiet."

"That's my good girl."

Your attention was split between the man below you and the man on the other side of the wall, making sure he couldn't see you or hear you. But soon enough your focus was all on Jisung who pulled his fingers out your cunt. You whined at the loss of his hand, looking back wondering why he stopped. That's when your body was forced around, back now leaning on the counter like before. Jisung sunk his fingers back into you, fingering you with the same passion as before as he attached his plump lips to your clit.

"Oh my god," you whimpered in a broken moan. Your hand gradually made its way to his hair, cupping the back of his head as you began to move your hips on his hand and face. Jisung sucked you clit hard, flicking his tongue on the bud all while jerking himself under you.

"You're gonna cum for me baby," he mumbled under you.

"Y-yes, fuck, make me cum," you grunted softly.

His moans against your clit sent vibrations all over your body, almost sending you into overdrive. The pleased look on his face, eye contact, his whimpers were far more than you could imagine.

"A-ah, fuck.."

"C'mon baby cum," he mumbled, stroking himself faster. "Cum on my tongue. That's it pretty girl, ride my fucking face. Make me drown in this pussy."

The thought of Chenle being in the back completely disappeared from both of your minds, the both of you moaning and whimpering louder. Your whines and whimpers filled the room as you threw your head back. Jisung fingered you faster, curling his fingers inside of you.

"O-oh fuck, I'm cumming Jisung.." Your body shuddered as you took a hold of his hair, cumming on his fingers and tongue that was flicking your clit even faster through your orgasm.

"Keep cumming baby, don't stop. You're so pretty when you cum baby. Prettiest girl I've ever seen."

Jisung pulled his fingers out of your dripping cunt, cum covering every inch of them. He was so fucked out of his mind, he had to taste you. You watched him as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling all over to savor the taste of your cum. He sucked his fingers clean, eyes never leaving yours. But he couldn’t get enough of you. Jisung dived right back between your legs, making you whine as you leaned on the counter.

"Yeah, just like that. Fuck, that feels so good," you whimpered, throwing your head back in pleasure. Your hips moved on their own at this point, riding his face once again, grinding down on his tongue as his nose nudged your clit in the best possible way.

"This pussy loves me, doesn't it, hm," he mumbled, chuckling darkly, feeling your hand pull his hair harder.

"Mhm." You nodded fast, brows knitting feeling that familiar storm of butterflies. "Shit, I'm cumming again."

Jisung smiled between your legs feeling your legs shake again as you gushed all over his tongue. He lapped your cum up like a dog, thirsty for more of your taste. "Good girl. Good fucking girl."

"I-I want you to cum too," you tell him, making him chuckle. "Cum in my mouth, please." You and Jisung quickly switch positions, you now being faced with his rock hard cock. You spit on the tip, licking the flesh messily. Jisung watched you, face still wet from your cum as he moaned softly at the feeling of your mouth. You take him down your throat, gagging slightly as his tip hits the back. Jisung marveled in the way your watery eyes never left his, the way you remained a good girl just for him. Jisung's hand tangled in your hair, the tug hurting in the best way as he began fucking your mouth.

"Take it," he grunted through gritted teeth. "This is what you wanted isn't it? Only sluts want something like this."

Jisung fucked your throat more and more roughly as his orgasm began approaching. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, moaning around him sending vibrations through his body. Jisung pulled himself out your mouth, watching you cough and catch your breath. He tugged his cock quickly, tilting your head up for his orgasm.

"You're so pretty for me on your knees. You take me so good, fitting my big cock in your mouth." He was rambling, brows furrowing as his moans and whimpers grew faster in speed and louder in volume. You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out making Jisung lose it. He stroked himself fast, panting, getting louder and louder, faster and faster. Placing his tip on your tongue, he stroked himself faster, big brown eyes never leaving the scene below him.

"A-ah fuck, open wide for me, swallow it all." Jisung came, ropes of cum shooting all over your lips, tongue, face, everywhere. His shaky moans hit your eardrums in the best way possible, the visual of him still milking his hard cock making you wet all over again. The man watched you as you took a bit of his cum off your cheek, sucking your finger right after.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," he mumbled between breaths. Jisung was spent, that being the most intense orgasm he had in a while, he was exhausted. You on the other hand couldn't have been happier. Yes, he did just fuck a fan and it's frowned upon, but you didn't care about any of that. You gave him a blowjob while he ate you out at your job. Life couldn't get any better than that.

Rising to your feet, Jisung took your waist in his arm fast. "Let's get you cleaned up. You must be tired," he said softly.

"I-I am." Jisung grabbed a couple of napkins and wet them before turning to you. He tilted your chin up softly, taking the wet paper to your skin. He wiped his cum off your face gently, making sure not to hurt you in the process.

"Fuck, I can't believe I just did that," he rumbled. "I can't believe you let me do that."

He smiled, a raspy chuckle erupting from his chest. "We have to get out of here. I'm sure some people walking by have already seen us, not that I mind."

"I'd let you do anything." Jisung enjoyed the lust, fucked out look in your eyes. The way you batted your lashes, still just as pretty as you were before getting your face fucked.

"I-I don't mind either, but I don't think anyone walked by or even saw us." You pulled your clothes back on, getting fully dressed in the open area behind the counter along with Jisung who was trying his sweats.

"So, about that coffee," he started. "Do I still have to pay?"

You laughed softly, biting your lip softly. "I completely forgot about that."

"I didn't expect you to remember," he laughed. "not when I just fucked every thought out of you. By the way,..." Jisung grabbed his phone off the counter behind you, not breaking his stare. "Give me your number."

"M-Me?"

"Yeah, who else," he laughed. You gave him your number, cheeks on fire as you typed. The man of your dreams not only fucked you, but now has your number.

"We should meet tomorrow. At my place," he suggested.

You nodded slowly, gulping as he took your waist in his large hands. You could feel yourself melting yet again, just wanting to sink to your knees and let him have his way with you. "w-why your place?"

He leaned into your ear, breath tickling your skin. "So I could give you some private audios. Ones where it's just you and me. How does that sound?"

You look up at him, nodding frantically as you feel the space between your legs flood with arousal once again. "G-good."

"I knew it would." Jisung took his phone, placing it in his pocket. "I would offer you a ride, but I don't have a car," he laughed softly.

"I-it's fine, I have to finish anyway. You go ahead," you said, shooing him away with your hand.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," you nod. Jisung waves goodbye, walking out the door and into the darkness of the street without looking back. You didn't know you were holding your breath as he left, but you exhaled dramatically, internally screaming at the events that just took place. Never in your wildest dreams would you ever think you'd be in a room alone with the man who makes your audio porn, but things just happen.

You were far too exhausted after standing on your feet all day and having the best sex of your life to continue cleaning, so you decided to just leave and go home early. You were sure you were going to have to hear a mouthful from your manager the next day, it's nothing you haven't heard before.

Grabbing your phone, you shoved it in your pocket along with making sure all of your other belongings were with you before you left. You often didn't bring much with you to work, just anything that could fit in your pocket. Turning the lights off, you walked to the front of the store, locking the large glass door and closing it, finally finishing up for the day.

The only thing you didn't know was that Chenle was still in the back, and watched every bit of what happened through the security cameras.

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exrellian · 2 months

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Replaced MC AU

Authors Note: the amount of support I’m getting is insane and I am so thankful! I didn’t expect my first series to blow up like this! Comment if you would like to be added to the tag list (which is something I never expected to have) and of course, enjoy part four!!

TW: none really except MC and ??? Shit talking the brothers and royals

Part 1-Part 2-Part 3-Part 4(you are here)

Someone who feels the same way

??? POV

“Chef! There is someone sleeping in the alleyway next to the restaurant!” A demon said, “if you let homeless people just sleep outside people are going to stop eating here. This is a prestigious restaurant, not a homeless shelter.” The noble demon scoffed at the other

“I will go take care of it.” The chef sighed, grabbing his coat and umbrella from his office before exiting the restaurant and checking the alley beside it. Sure enough, there lays a boy, looking to be physically around the same age as the chef, and he looks like shit

“How long do you plan on sitting in the alley? Humans get sick easily.” The demon spoke, moving his umbrella to cover the soaked boy

“You gonna eat me?” the human asked, not even moving his head up to look at the demon

“Eat you? Ew.”

“Don’t mess with me, I know how demons are.” The chef shook his head, leaning against the wall across from MC

“If I was going to eat you I would have done so already. Aren’t you the precious little exchange student? Weird to see you without one of your guard dogs.” He scoffs as he mentions the seven lords

“Please don’t bring me back there. Who knows what they will do if they found out I was causing a noble demon trouble” MC sputtered, still not making eye contact with the mystery demon

“Ew.”

“Ew?”

“Those lords are as incompetent as the young prince who rules them.” The demon replied with a roll of his eyes “I’m Lawrence by the way. Why don’t you come into the restaurant and get cleaned up, the back room should have some spare clothes since yours are… gross”

“Are you sure your boss would be okay with that?”

“My boss? No, he won’t mind” Lawrence tosses his jacket at MC, still covering both of them with the umbrella

“If you’re sheltering me with an umbrella why do I need a jacket?”

“Put the hood up, hide your face and, since I wear this jacket often it should mask your scent as a human. A lot of noble demons are dining here, if you don’t want the lords knowing you’re here you best hide.” Lawrence explains, helping MC up off the ground

“Why are you helping me? You could have killed me at least five different times now”

“Because you looked pathetic. And I can’t have homeless people outside the restaurant, it will make it look… poor”

Small time skip

MCs POV, first person

I finished getting changed after successfully sneaking in… but now what? Sure I’m all cleaned up but was it all just to go out onto the streets again? Sure I could go to Purgatory Hall but who knows if they have been manipulated by Amelia too. I need to get a job and find a place to stay, even if I just hotel jump until the end of my time here…

“The uniform looks good on you.” A voice spoke from the door behind me “ready to get working?”

“What? Your… offering me a job here? But how will I go unnoticed!? And I’m a human, so won’t the demons be inclined to avoid this place with me working here!?” I ask, shocked at the sudden declaration that he was giving me a job

“An illusion spell, I put it in the uniform before you get changed. To me and any other demon you look and smell like a demon. No one will recognize you like this.” Lawrence explained, it’s as if he was prepared for this

“Oh… well I guess that makes sense, but why offer me a job? This just doesn’t seem right, you are a demon correct? Why help a useless human this much?” I asked, not fully trusting in this random demons intentions

“You ask so many questions, it’s annoying. I just felt like it, that’s all. This is my restaurant so I can give anyone I please a job.”

“Your restaurant!? You own this place!? The lords came to eat here many times, saying this was the fanciest restaurant in the Devildom!”

“If I could ban them from coming here I would. I had to work overtime any night you all came. That gluttony demon is a real problem for any restaurant he comes to. And don’t get me started on that prideful fuck, he can rot for all I care, he had the gall to tell me I was being too conservative with the serving sizes, at my own damn restaurant” Lawrence rants on and on, it was almost comforting to find someone who hates them as much as I do now “the only tolerable one is the young lords butler, at least he seems to have a shred of respect, unlike the other eight. Not even the prince can respect other people enough to not shout everything he says like he is the most important being in the three worlds”

“You seem to really hate them, don’t you?” I chuckle a bit at his tangent, not expecting someone who looks and acts like he does to go on such a heated rant

“Hate is such a… gentle word. I loathe them, they think they are the best demons ever because one of them was born into power and the other seven used to be angels. Well that doesn’t mean shit in the long run, and they will learn that sooner or later when their little exchange program backfires and the Celestial Realm fucks over both the Devildom and the human realm by extension. If there is one thing I loathe more than the nobles here in the Devildom, it’s the celestial realm” he sighs “we have gotten off topic, do you want the job or not? I live in a two bedroom apartment above the restaurant that you may stay in until you have made enough money to get your own place out until the exchange year comes to an end. Truthfully it would be foolish of you to refuse” he was right, it would be incredibly stupid to turn down this offer.

Tag list; @t-misaki @melpomenelurks @gallantys @skei2p @terodactu @atomsminecraft @cutest-tenshi

#obey me #obey me angst #replaced mc #obey me replaced au #obey me oc #obey me mc #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

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yellowbunnydreams · 5 months

Text

Bunny Ears (Part 2) ~William Afton X F! Reader~

~Prepare for fluff!~

Part 1

Tag List: @ruh--roh-raggy @h4nluv @sleepy---head

Cw: CW: Minors DNI, (18+ ONLY), Female Reader, legal age gap (Reader- 20's, William - 30's), divorce/processing divorce (more tags will be added later in the story)

The last shift of your first week at Freddy's was welcomed with open arms by the time it arrived. You had known it would be chaos dealing with children, change, tickets, prizes, the arcade and all the fun responsibilities that came with being a restaurant but by the Saturday morning, you were ready to have a day off and take off the shoes you'd brought to work in.

Two days in you had decided that the somewhat flimsy shoes you had originally brought with you were no good after you were tired of getting your toes stepped on by small children, so you had been and bought some still pretty but sturdy black boots to work in and ever since you had been minorly less injured by children. Minorly. Children were prone to being slightly feral when hyped on slightly watered down fizzy-drinks and pizza as well as surrounded by bright lights and colours.

Spotting a child trying to climb on stage, you sigh and walk over with a bright smile, gently tapping the kid on the shoulder and making them turn around as you bent down to their height. Your bright red vest and confetti blouse wrinkling slightly as you almost ended up kneeling on the sticky carpet, the kid's face scrunched up in annoyance at the intrusion of his playtime until he noticed it was a member of staff.

"Hey buddy! I've been so silly and forgotten the rules of Freddy's and you seem like a smart little man," You said brightly, watching the kid puff out his striped shirt chest and straighten up, trying not to smile that somebody at Freddy's had called him smart. "can you tell them to me again?"

"Sure I can! I can cause I'm smart!" He tried to lower his voice to sound more important, and it made your heart melt slightly as to how adorable it was. Nodding encouragingly as you waited for him to speak.

"Go on then buddy."

"Well umm... You gotta not run! That's the biggest rule and the biggest means it's first! Then um... umm, oh you've got no loud noises...Go to the bathroom? Know where your mommy is!...um...umm. Don't touch Freddy? Don't hit other people! and um..umm that's it."

"Well done superstar! What were you about to do when I came over?" You asked, knowing the kid was puffed up in pride and would walk right into the question.

"I was going to give Freddy a hug!" Suddenly looking sheepish as he realised what had happened and why you had asked him. His shoulders sagging and his lip pouting as he bowed his little head, making you touch his shoulder gently again to grab his attention, making him look up and reveal teary eyes.

"I'm guess he's your favourite?" The kid nodded and you reached into your pocket, pulling out a Freddy Fazbear sticker and handing it to the kid with some arcade tokens. "Well that's okay, but you have to stick to the rules buddy, although you get a prize for being such a superstar and remembering them!"

Standing up, any thoughts of tears from the child were gone and he ran back off into the restaurant to play whatever game was popular that day, or to make new friends about their favourite animatronics. You were always surprised to see how many kids 'played Freddy's' by collecting kids with different favourites and would huddle in groups, taking turns singing various songs from the pizzeria.

You jumped as you turned around and almost walked into Garret, clutching your heart thumping in your chest as you took a deep breath and composed yourself. He shrugged his shoulders at the fact he had been standing so close to you, clearing his throat like that would remedy it.

"What is it Garret? And if you say that the ladies need cleaning again, I did it twice yesterday, I'm not doing it today." You said, keen to move as you were aware that you were in front of the main stage and according to your watch it was only four minutes until showtime, confirmed over the tannoy which only seemed to hype the kids around you up more. All rushing to eat, drink and play before the next show as if they didn't happen every twenty minutes.

"No actually, Daphne has that today. But Henry said he needed you to pop into parts and services and find him a 'flux capacitor', in the labelled box and bring it to him. He needs it for the parts order next week." He shrugged and you squinted at him for a second before you nodded and thanked him for passing on the message, heading towards Parts and Services, a back room down the concrete back halls of the place.

It didn't take you long to find it, after a few minutes of searching and asking somebody where it was as they passed by. But as you opened the door, you noticed how cluttered it was initially. Sighing as you realised how long it was going to take trying to find a presumably small part in a mess of cables, boxes and half-built things you were nervous to go near in case they broke. The few dim bulbs overhead didn't help as you began to search, carefully picking up boxes or moving coils of wire to check the labels, wondering if there was any form of organisation as you opened up a large box labelled as 'fuses' and finding animatronic eyes staring back, cold and unblinking.

Sighing, you stood up again and took a half-step back to try and turn around and try not to disturb anything perched precariously on the workbench nearby. Your back hitting something unexpectedly and making you scream, throwing your hands up to cover your face and cowering back into the shelves as you startled. A large hand darting out over the top of you and gripping the shelf you bumped into to stop it from potentially tipping over.

Removing your hands from your face you found yourself confronted with a white undershirt that was stained with motor oil and grease from the animatronics, forcing you to look up and face the quizzical expression that was looking down at you. Grey eyes behind gold rimmed aviator glasses sparkling with amusement, deep brown hair and the slightest beard going on that had just started to grey closer to the temples. Swallowing hard, you blinked up at the unfamiliar man, mind racing along with your heart.

"Well I know I'm all dirty and shit but do I really look that bad?" The baritone voice chuckled, slightly gravelly and still somehow warm enough to make you melt slightly.

"N-No sir I'm so so sorry, I-I didn't mean-" You began to stammer before the man removed his arm from above your head, stepping back and sitting at a chair from the workbench, giving you a better look at him even under the dim lights.

He was shirtless, or at least, no proper shirt on but rather a white-tshirt. Giving you a good view of his broad shoulders and thick arms, the tight shirt giving you a good idea of a developing dad-body that still somehow screamed muscular and how tall he was as he stretched his legs out, crossing his arms and holding his biceps, making you glance at his hands and noticing how large they too seemed.

"Are you new here?" He asked, tilting his head to one side as he looked at you critically, his expression serious despite the humour in his eyes that you had briefly seen.

"Yes sir. I started this week." Swallowing nervously as you tried to look anywhere but the large man infront of you, occasionally meeting his eyes to be polite but otherwise trying not to stare, knowing your cheeks were already heated up enough and you could tell you were blushing hard.

"Figures, I'm going to take a gamble and say... Garret, that spotty teenage kid? Kinda weedy looking? Told you to come in here and look for something?" Hiding amusement from his voice as he sat observing you, thinking that perhaps you were too naive and sweet to be back in the grimy bowels of the establishment.

"Yes sir, he um.. He said I needed a 'flux capacitor' or something for the parts order for-" You didn't get much further as the man began to laugh, a deep bassy sound that made your chest flutter slightly as you heard it, definitely blushing if you weren't before. His face split into a grin, revealing a lopsided smile as he shifted and stood up again, once more towering over your much smaller frame.

"Yeah he's fucking with you. I'll admit, this is one of the more...creative... ways that a new staff member has been hazed." Chuckling still as he walked over to a different bench, making you realise that had probably been where he was stood before you bumped into him. "They usually get the newbies to come in here and bring random shit out, but actually having you look for something that doesn't exist, quite funny."

You felt your cheeks burning as he laughed at you and made you feel uncomfortable, squirming as you tried to stand for the scrutiny before you looked up at him tinkering away with something on a bench, realising that you hadn't seen him the entire week you'd been working there. It was your turn to cross your arms, clearing your throat slightly before speaking.

"You know, I don't know who you are. You're not wearing a uniform or a name badge, so I'd like to see some ID please." You said, holding out one hand and struggling to try and keep your composure as the broad and tall man stopped tinkering and turned his head to blink at you.

He saw you stood there, tiny compared to him and still trying to defiantly hold out your hand, demanding to see ID and prove that he was meant to be there. He tried not to smile as he reached into his slacks pockets and pulled out his wallet, thumbing through it until he pulled out two cards. His Fazbear employee card and his drivers licence, handing them over simultaneously and letting you inspect them closely.

You looked over them carefully, although it took seconds before your face paled and it fell. Body shaking as you realised how badly you had fucked up by demanding ID from the man.

"Sorry, we don't seem to have met before, I'm William Afton, co-owner of Freddy Fazbear's." Grinning widely as he plucked the cards from your hands and put them on the worktop before offering a rough, oily hand to shake. Taking a little humour in your shocked expression as you shakily took his hand, almost lost in his as you both shook and introduced yourself. Quietly giving him your name too.

"It's nice to meet you little lady, but I'm sure you have to get back out into the colourful world of Freddy's." He suggested, trying to contain his laughter as you swallowed nervously, avoiding his eyes again which was a small pet-peeve of his, but he was willing to be forgiving on that occasion as you had been caught off-guard by him and didn't know him yet.

Gesturing to the door, you allowed him to escort you there, turning back to apologise to him before he leaned against the doorframe and looked down at you with a grin, wanting to fuck with you some more before he fully let you go.

"You're welcome back any time though, Henry doesn't usually let the pretty ones come down here." He laughed darkly, making a biting motion with a slightly snarled lip at you and listening to the squeak you made as you practically speed walked down the hallway with an obvious blush on your cheeks. Chuckling to himself at the fact he had flustered you so successfully.

You practically burst into the restaurant and went straight onto your break, plopping down into the staff room and placing your head in your hands, groaning loudly as you tried to process what had just happened. Hearing the chair opposite you scrape back, you saw Stacey looking at you curiously, eyebrow raised as you just shook your head at her.

"So, you practically ran through the building like your ass was on fire, what's up?" She teased, making you shake your head again, face burning as you tried to repress your new image of William Afton and could still hear his baritone voice in your ears.

"It's nothing Stacey."

"Bullshit! Come on! Did you stare at one of the dad's too long or something?" She teased, poking at your arm and hands until you pulled them away from your face and revealed the heavy blush, making her laugh even more "Oh come on, what could have been sooo bad?"

"I met Mr. Afton." Stacey snorted as you said it, raising a sceptical eyebrow and grinning at you.

"Okay, and I mean, he can be weird but like, what else is there to-"

"Stacey I asked him for his fucking ID and employee badge since he wasn't in uniform." You decided to leave out the part where he had called you pretty and bit at you in a way that you were almost ashamed to say made your stomach flutter with butterflies, and the fact you had run into him. Physically run into him. And screamed when you saw him.

The encounter got more and more embarrassing the more you thought about it.

"Well...Shit." Stacey offered helpfully, patting your hand consolingly as you felt your body burning up in shame. "Guess you gotta hope and pray he forgets by Monday."

You knew you certainly wouldn't forget by Monday, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew he wouldn't either.

#springtrap #springtrap x reader #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #william afton smut #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader

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brain-n-body-in-disarray · 3 months

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What the h*ll is "basic hygiene" anyway?

If you're like me, you've been struggling with hygiene for a long time. I'm neurodivergent, I have chronic fatigue and chronic pain, so yeah, it's been hard, my whole life.

Here's a few tips that helped me or some of my friends.

1. Redefine "basic hygiene"

No, really. Redefine it. Neurotypical and able-bodied people will tell you all can of things about what is "basic" hygiene.

The rule is: do what you can. That's it. The rest of the post will be tips to increase what you can do. But in the meantime, just do your best. You're fantastic the way you are.

2. Time

There's two thing here.

The first is: find the right time for you. It's not always easy, because we often have obligations, and we're supposed to be clean at those right moments. It's not easy. Sometimes it "helps" because it gives us that "boost" we needed to start getting clean, but most of the time it's just stressful. So instead find the moment that works best for you. I know there's moments in the day when it'll be easier for me to start tasks that I would struggle with at an other time, but I prioritise other things instead for a reason or another. Try washing yourself then, even if people will tell you it's strange to have a shower at three pm. Who cares.

The second is: divide to conquer. You don't have to wash ALL the parts of your body at once. You don't necessarily have the energy for it and it's okay. Also it can feel daunting to face that long list of steps. A body has a LOT of parts to wash and clean. Really, that's scary and exhausting. So the solution might be to do smaller things here and there. Do what you can when you can, that's okay. At least you've done something, that's great!

You are also allowed to take breaks in the middle. It can help if you are tired, or if it makes you anxious.

3. Wipes.

I personally hate washing with soap and water, whether it's a bath, shower or just at the sink. It takes time, it's a lot of steps, and it feels horrible. I do it when I can, but I don't enjoy it. The partial solution is wipes.

Baby wipes are great, they're soft, some smell good but faint, some has no odor. You can clean yourself quickly without rinsing. And they don't let that terrible feeling on your skin.

There's wipes made for your private parts. Which is an important part to clean. Also wet toilet paper is good. (For private parts wipes, buy the organic ones, you don't want anything too harsh there)

Make-up removal wipes are not just to remove make-up. They do clean you face.

Don't use antibacterial wipes though. At least not regularly. They are too harsh for your skin, you'll just damage it. Also too much antibacterial stuffs just make bacterias more resistant.

Bonus point: wipes can easily be carried in a bag. Handy.

4. Charts and lists and apps.

Whether you forget to do it or it you have done it already, or you can't get motivated, or you can't manage to start washing, or there's so many steps you get overwhelmed, or you start but can't remember what to do next, etc., those tips might help.

There's apps like Habitica (it's the most well known but there's others) that help you building habits and remembering to do stuffs and making it fun (help with rewards). It's about general tasks but can be applied to washing. A friend also told me there's a pokemon app to brush your teeth but I haven't tried it.

If you get overwhelmed by the steps and get lost in the middle, making a list of those steps, laminating and putting it in the bathroom near the sink or in the shower can help you keeping tracks. You can even put a dry erase marker near the list to check what have already be done.

5. The "bath buddy"

If you live with someone, you can ask their help.

I'm not saying they have to wash you. Or maybe I am? A friend takes his showers with his boyfriend to help getting motivated.

It can just be your platonic roommate behind the door talking to you, telling you funny stories.

Having company can help start the task and make it more enjoyable which help in itself but also make it less daunting the next times. Having a bath buddy also helps if you get lost in the middle of a task, they can tell you what the next step is. They can also keep you on tracks and in the present (I know I tend to dissociate a lot in the bathroom). And they keep your mind off the bad stuffs (body dysphoria for example, or sensory discomfort)

6. You're never too old for "kids' stuffs"

Because you're never to old for fun stuffs.

No, really, there's no reason why you should deprive yourself of something that would make washing more fun.

Wash your teeth with bubblegum flavored toothpaste.

Play with bathtoys. Buy those little plastic boats and those little squirting animals. (Seriously, the fact that the only fun thing for bath for adult is bubbles is a crime)

The word here is "fun". Make the bathroom fun. Buy a shower curtain with cute elephants playing with water. Put adhesive ducks on the tiles. Make that darn room a place you want to be in, not just to distract you from the bad stuff but to enjoy your life.

7. Teeth. Oh no, the teeth.

First thing: as I said, you don't have to use that "adult toothpaste". The menthol contained in it can be sensory hell. You can use kid toothpaste, it cleans just as well. If you can't use any toothpaste try brushing without it with just water. You can also try toothpaste tablets (you chew on them and then brush). You can try mouthwash. You can try oil-pulling. The point here is to remove some bacteria from your mouth.

About brushing. There's different hardness in toothbrushes. If you're using hard, try medium. If you're using medium, try soft. If you're using soft, try baby toothbrush. If no toothbrush works for you, try a wet cloth, or your finger. Try using toothpicks to remove the remains of food and then use mouthwash.

If the storebought mouthwash doesn't do with you, make it yourself. There's recipes online with essential oils (optional, but maybe there's one you might like), baking soda and water. (I don't recommend using lemon juice, it might damage your enamel.)

My friend just told me I should mention dental floss. I personally hate it, but it might be useful to some of you. It's probably more effective than toothpicks. They also comes mounted on these little plastic sticks if you struggle with the thread alone.

8. Chair

No, really, you have the right to sit down during washing. Buy a shower chair. Put a bench on your bathtub instead of struggling to stand up. Put a chair in front of the sink to sit when you brush your teeth.

You don't have to be physically disabled to use a chair to wash. And if you're disabled there's still no shame. Standing up can be boring, it can be painful, it can be tiring. So sit. You are allowed.

And if you prefer standing, do. You can pace. You can dance. You can do gymnastics. (Just be careful if you're brushing your teeth, okay. Or if you're in the shower. Don't hurt yourself.)

9. Music

If you don't have a buddy to talk to you, music or even podcasts, anything to listen to, can be a nice way to help. They makes the experience more enjoyable. They keeps your head away from the bad sensory experience or the awareness of your own body.

I also find using the same playlist useful to keep track of the time I've been spending in the shower. I even time the steps on the tracklist, I know I washed that part of my body for long enough if that song is over, I need to do the next step.

Also, for me me music is part of the ritual. It helps me to get in the right mind, it motivates me, it makes the routine.

10. Multi-purpose products.

I've seen all those beauty posts about "layering". It's nice if you have the energy and the time, but no, it's not for me.

I hate moisturising creams. I really do. They smells funny, they feels gross and sticky, and it takes forever to apply. It's an unnecessary step for me. But I have dry skin (at least on my body). The easy solution is to use surgras soap or surgras shower gel. (Not just the "moisturising" soap, that won't hydrate as well.)

I don't just remove the unpleasant experience of moisturiser, I remove a step. I save energy.

Also, multi-purpose products help with organisation, there's less things to think about. There's less risk of taking the wrong bottle because you're too headfogged. Less chance of chaos in the bathroom.

I personally can't do that for everything. I'd like to have one soap for everything, but my body skin and my face skin and my private parts and my hair all need different stuffs. But I do try to keep things to a minimum, because the number of products can be quickly overwhelming. So try to balance your sensory needs with your organisation problem.

(Also, if like me you hate the feeling of moisturiser, aloe vera gel is great. It is a bit sticky, but in a different way than cream. I personally prefer that one. There's also the option of oil, there's different kinds for different skin types, even for oily skin.)

11. Japaneses know best: the bidet.

This one might sounds strange for some folx. Where I live, bidets used to be extremely common but they are disappearing. We used to have a bidet next to the toilets in our homes. Japanese toilets have a built-in bidet but they are expensive. There is a cheaper (but still not cheap) alternative. You can buy a bidet toilet seat attachment to put on your own toilets.

Why am I telling you about bidet? Because when you struggle to wash regularly, bidets are incredibly useful.

Toilet paper is highly unhygienic. Wet toilet paper is a bit better. Bidets, that spray a jet of water on your privates, clean so much better.

And they are easy and quick to use. You just press a button and you are clean.

If you have a vagina, it's even more important, because it lowers significantly the risks of getting UTI and the likes.

If you can afford it, I recommend it.

12. The hat, or "well, f*ck it"

You can fail to wash in time for whatever obligation you have. That's okay.

Just use the card "camouflage".

Greasy hair? If they are long, brush them and tie them tightly, and put on a fashionable hat. Or you favorite, silly, hat. Or just a random hat that your aunt gave you (you know the one, you wondered for three weeks if you smiled enough when you received the gift because you didn't want to offend her). Scarfs are nice too.

Other idea to hide greasy hair? A wig. They are higher maintenance, but they are good to have for occasions where you have to look a bit better or if you can't wear a hat for whatever reason.

About odors... Well you know the trick of deodorants and perfume. Not what I recommend, at least not alone. For once not everyone can stand their smell. Also, they aren't that great to succeed at masking odors. If you can, use wipes to clean your armpits (also the underbreasts if you have them) and the neck and chest area. It might not remove all the odors but it'll help and with some deodorant if you can stand it, you should be good.

About deodorant: you can use a dollop of moisturiser (yes, I know I said I hate them, but listen), it will help to stop the formation of odors but the fragrance is usually mild or absent. It's also less harsh than the usual deodorant. You only need a small amount for it to work. You just need to clean before (wipes should be enough)

13. Don't stew in your dirty clothes.

Try to change your clothes often even if you don't wash. Especially your underwears.

I know it might sound counterintuitive to wear clean clothes when your skin is dirty, but staying in old clothes is like wearing a petri dish. By keeping the same clothes on you, you also keep the bacterias that live on it and your body.

It's especially bad in some areas, like your private parts, your feet and your armpits.

If you live alone, or if you live with someone who don't care, don't put clothes on at all. You'll just stew in your bacterial crock pot otherwise.

Staying naked also has the upside of reducing the amount of laundry you have to do.

14. Use your strengths.

Sometimes it's as simple as using your other hand because your dominant one is achy.

Sometimes it's listening to a podcast about your special interest.

You're an artist? Put a whiteboard in the shower. Or, I don't know, draw your body, laminate the drawing, and color the parts you have already washed with a dry erase marker.

Your thing is to make lists of animals of Paraguay? Recite them alphabetically and make a song with them while you brush your teeth and wash your face and clip you nails.

Dancers here? Each movement you make is part of a choreography.

15. Aftercare.

Hygiene is immensely stressful and energy consuming. You don't just deserve a reward, you need aftercare.

It's okay to take a nap. It's okay to need to engage with your special interest. It's okay to need a hug. It's okay to want to be alone. It's okay to feel bad too. Have a cry. Be moody. Don't be ashamed of what you feel. Of course it's better if you manage to avoid these emotions. But it's okay if you have them.

And give yourself a little treat. Have a cup of your favorite tea. Put a shiny sticker in your "things I've done good today" diary. Cuddle with your pet. Read the Swedish dictionary.

Drink a glass of water and eat something.

Also, if you have chronic pain, like I do, take your meds. (My joints are always a bit achy after standing too long, or my shoulder are stiff after washing my hair)

Write an essay about why keeping up with your hygiene is a pain.

Do what you want and do what you need.

16. Shame has no place in the bathroom.

If you've read my previous post, you know what I mean.

I've said it in this post, it's okay to struggle, to not be perfect, or as perfect as neurotypicals and able-bodied people say we should be. Their criterias are bullcrap.

Shame won't help you to keep up to these unachievable standards. They'll just undermine you.

Also, it's okay if some of what I've said here seems unachievable also. I shared what helps me and some of my friends, but your needs might be different and that's totally okay. Maybe someone will make a post with tips that'll help more? I hope so.

Anyway, you do what you can and you congratulate yourself for it. Every step is an achievement worth of praise.

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itsroxie · 2 years

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So your parents suck?

Okay, so you’re starting from scratch, you can’t cook, you don’t know what career you’re interested in, you lack skills that your parents should have taught you, and your finances aren’t in order. Worst of all, you don’t know where to begin 👀. Well, I got a list of books for you.

( most of the books listed have visuals)

These are 10 must-have books that’ll help you maneuver through life!

1. “The Self Care prescription” by Robyn L. Gobin, Ph.D ⭐️ MUST HAVE ⭐️ (Amazon)

Self-care is important. If you don’t know where to start this book was made for you. It will clear up any confusion you may have about self-care, and how it looks. It also addresses mental health and teaches you skills on how to deal with real-life issues. The author also has a journal you can purchase alongside this book. (Amazon link)

2. “Infographic guide to Personal Finance” by Elisabeth Lariviere and Michele Cavan, CPA (Amazon)

All the financial advice you need in one book. It has a range of topics from debt to investing, buying property, and budgeting. This book is easy to understand and has lovely graphics.

3. “How to be a person” by Catherine Newman (Amazon)

All the skills you need to be a functioning human being are in this book. I recommend this book for people who didn’t have a lot of guidance growing up. “How to be a person” will fill you in on the basics. It tells you how to tip people, do laundry, send mail, and make your bed. It also has some easy recipes and a lot more. It’s a great starter book for those who genuinely don’t know where to begin!

4. “Atomic Habits” by James Clear (Amazon)

If you are looking to break a habit or start a new one this book is a bestseller and highly recommended. It can also be helpful for those who struggle with motivation, making changes, etc. Before reading this book, I had difficulty getting back on track after a break. Since reading Atomic Habits, I've been able to stay consistent with my goals and overcome moments of doubt. Once you’ve read Atomic Habits I would suggest purchasing @2pretty 12-month dream girl guide. It can help you keep track of the habits you want to master and the steps you plan on taking to accomplish your goal. It’s also a cute journal 🥰.

5. “Budgeting 101” by Michele Cavan, CPA (Amazon)

A very detailed book explaining everything you need to know about budgeting, saving, and investing. It also has a couple of tips.

6. “Home EC for everyone” by Sharon & David Bowers (Amazon)

All the life skills you need are in this book. It covers cooking, laundry, sewing, and other domestic skills. Home EC has recipes, a list of supplies, and how-to’s on cleaning, setting tables &, etc. This book is amazing. It’s been my favorite purchase this year. It starts with the easy stuff like boiling water 😭 and cracking an egg, but it gets into other info like getting gum out of carpet, how to hem a skirt, reading laundry symbols, making beef stew, and brining meat, just to mention a few.

7. “Getting from college to career” by Lindsey Pollak (Amazon)

If you need advice on preparing for interviews, working on your resume, getting real-world experiences, and finding job opportunities. I couldn’t suggest a better book. It has other topics and is great for anyone who needs advice while they're looking for a job, but it is catered to college graduates.

8. “Adulting made easy” by Amanda Morin (Amazon)

Budgeting, insurance, getting a job, KEEPING a job, safe social media usage, living situations, and a few other life skills are all mentioned in “adulting made easy”. I love this book and started including it in my gift package for friends and family members going to college or moving out, it’s such a great resource.

9. “The driving book” by Karen Gravelle (Amazon)

This book is geared towards new drivers, but I believe it has some great information for everyone. It tells you what to keep in your car, how to take care of it, and how to drive in different areas. Such as the freeway, the countryside, etc.

10. “Careers the ultimate guide to planning your future” (Amazon)

This book has a range of careers, some requiring just trade school or associates, others needing a doctorate. With such a range, you’ll be sure to get an idea of what career you might be interested in. It also has a rank on the salary you’ll be making from each opportunity listed.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Now I am all for reading and gathering information but please be sure to put the tips you learn to use.

I’ll try to make a version of this that has online readings or links. I know some people don’t like books or don’t have space for books so if I find any articles I’ll make a post 🤍

♡ xoxo Mrs.Degree ❣️

p.s just cuz you didn’t learn these skills as a kid doesn’t mean your parents suck I just picked that as a header.

#mrs.degree resources #hypergamy #feminine black women #black women in luxury #high maintenance #college #spoiled girlfriend #black women #education #adulthood #adult adhd #2pretty #atomic habits #self care #self love #apartment

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dreamauri · 10 months

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┇𝗗𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗖𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 - P1 ┇ ─ ୨୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ─ ┇it's time you got back in the battle ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst/fluff ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠word count — ( 2, 445 ) ╰ 🫧 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

☆★ changed up things a little bit cause i found my muse, took me a while to write this chapter as well. I hope it was worth the wait. I don't plan on rushing this series, but it will be a long one, no more than 15/20 (??) chapters? ps. the translation is not literal, it's context. ty ━━━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests )

RACE DAY Sunday April 30 2023 — Baku City Circuit, Azerbaijan

Needles to say, you felt like shit. It wasn't even the fourth race into the season and you had taken a seat that didn't belong to you. And there was nothing you hated more than that.

You watched as people rushed around the garage finalising their tasks. "You okay, kid?" Looking up, you met gazes with your new engineer. "Never been better." You lied, giving him a small smile. "Good to hear." He patted the top of your helmet gently. "I'll be in your ear the whole time, champ." "Thank you, Arcadio." "Call me JJ, kid." You chuckled, nodding. "Thank you, JJ."

"And here we are at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, ladies and gentlemen! A race filled with anticipation, surprises, and the return of an incredible talent. Keep your eyes on car number 17, the Red Bull driven by the remarkable Seventeen. Her first race since 2016 was it? She is finally on the grid, with a full seat as well."

"That's right, Martin. After a long hiatus, Seventeen is back on the grid, and the excitement is electric. You can hear the fans roaring! You can tell that the people are exited for her to get back on the track, and I can't deny it, I am as well." "Disappointingly enough, she will be starting at the back of the grid for missing qualifying on Friday."

"Charles Leclerc is in pole position, with Max Verstappen alongside him in P2. But don't count out Seventeen just yet. She's eager to prove herself once again today."

Lap 1 :: "The lights are about to go out, and the race is underway! Leclerc gets a clean start, holding onto the lead, while Verstappen is hot on his heels. But Seventeen is on the move, slicing through the pack with remarkable determination."

"Seventeen is showing no signs of rustiness, Martin. Lap after lap, she's gaining positions, overtaking rivals left and right. It's a mesmerising display of skill and determination."

Lap 10 :: "Seventeen pulls off a breath-taking move on Turn 8, overtaking Lando Norris' McLaren with sheer precision. She's making her presence known, and the crowd is thrilled to witness her comeback."

"That is P9, Seventeen. P9." "God blessed me with a functioning radio." You joked, chuckling, pulling a laugh from the Filipino on the pit wall. "Thanks' Jj." You sighed happily catching up to the Mercedes ahead.

Lap 25 :: "Seventeen's drive is filled with passion and resilience, Martin. The years away from the car seem to have only fuelled her determination. And she executes a daring overtake on the outside of Turn 3! leaving Carlos Sainz behind!"

Lap 47 :: "Max, we need you to let Seventeen through, please. She's on pace. Let seventeen through." "An incredible act of teamwork from Red Bull! Verstappen gracefully yields, allowing Seventeen to continue her charge towards the front."

"And now, Seventeen is on a mission. Lap after lap, she closes the gap to the leaders, never faltering in her pursuit of glory."

Final Lap :: "The tension is mounting, Martin. Seventeen is determined to make her mark. She's chasing down Charles Leclerc, putting immense pressure on the leader.

"And there it is! In a sensational move, Seventeen overtook Leclerc on the final corner of the final lap! The crowd erupts in applause as Seventeen crosses the finish line, taking an unbelievable victory in her first race back!"

"What a comeback story!" "Seventeen has made a resounding statement with this incredible victory. A truly unforgettable moment in Formula 1 history."

"Heh." You chuckle to yourself as you park in front of the P1 board. Once you lifted yourself out of the car, standing on the nose, you bent backwards holding onto the halo as you did a handstand. "Eat shit." You whispered, bending both knees and arching your back, posing for the camera.

Once you put your feet back on the asphalt you walked to your team who was quick to pull you in the sea of hugs and praise. "Thank you, guys. I would've never been able to do this without you today." You told them, hugging your new and favourite engineer.

"It's good to have you back." You heard Hamilton greet you, dabbing you up. "Thanks, Lewis." You nodded, flicking up your visor so he could at least see the smile that reached your eyes. "Ya saba3tashar!" [hey seventeen] snapping your head to the source of voice, you're met with the smug smile of a certain eight year old.

"Ya benti howa enti ay 7ega tesarakhiha we khalas?" [My God, are you just going to scream at any chance you get?] Her father who was carrying her on his hip scolded, covering his pulsing ear. "3erefto tigo 3ayni." [So you could make it after all] You moved over to them, sharing a tight hug.

"Tab3an. Mesh hafawet awel seba2 lebatalet El 3alem." [of course, we wouldn't miss the world champions first race] Marawan kissed your cheek patting the side of your helmet. "Mestaniyeenek." [Theyre waiting for you] He gestured to the waiting interviewer. "Mashi mashi." [ok ok]

"Salam!" [take care] The girl waved, making you turn back and blow her a kiss.

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Plopping on the P1 chair, you slumped tiredly leaning your head back. The room felt tense. With Max Verstappen in P2 and Killian Kraus in P3 ( two drivers who managed to overtake Leclerc in the last second right after you did ).

"That was a good overtake on lap 5." Kraus pointed out, looking at the screen that showed the highlights. He was trying to break the ice, especially with your teammate looking at you with such a negative expression that could be described as hate or despise, regret, anger. "Which one?" You asked yawning, waving slightly to the camera who was filming the three of yoy.

"Turn seven." "On Gasly?" "Yeah." "Eh, I could've done better." You shrugged, standing up once Jj stopped by in the room. "There's always room to improve." You sighed as he handed you the face mask and your sunglasses. You stood in a corner facing the wall to hide your face as you took off your helmet and balaclava, replacing them with a black mask, the 1st place cap and the sunglasses.

"It's time for the podium guys." "Here we go." You muttered tiredly pulling the second half of your race suit up, putting your hands through the sleeves. "And in first place, racing for the first time in seven years and adding another win to her unending winning streak. Give it up for Seventeen!" You could hear the crowd screaming as you walked out on the stage waving to the masses as you stepped up on your highest pedestal, raising your hands up bowing down.

You took your cap off once the Austrian Anthem started playing, skipping the one which would've been yours. You could hear and see the red bull team below you singing and smiling, which only made you crack a smile. Putting the cap back on your head as you received your trophy, quickly raising it up for your little family to see.

Max received his next with a forced smile and Killian after with pursed lips. Cracking the bottle open, you ran forward to the edge, spraying Your team principal and engineer.

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"You are on a winning streak are you not?" "I am." You nodded, leaning back in the chair. Press conferences were always so boring. "How long has it been going?" "Oh wow . . . like forever? I don't think I've lost that many karting races. And I've never lost races in F3 and F2—" "You were lapping everyone." "Yes, I was." You nodded chuckling.

"Hopefully, the streak continues throughout the rest of the season. and maybe I can win all the races next year and set another record." You wiggled your eyebrows excitedly. "You guys did go back to school, I like these questions." You giggled making the whole room erupt in laughter minus the Dutch boy sitting by your side.

Once you walked out of the room you were dragged by your performance coach to the Redbull motorhome for an ice bath. "Can I go into the out now." You whined shivering in the inflatable tub, one had out giving pats and belly rubs to the clearly delighted Australian Shepard.

"You're so lucky, protected by that cute fur of yours." You cooed at him scratching under his ear. "Oh, I was starting to think you'd skip." You joked looking at the Dutch driver in swim trunks. Max only pursed his lips shrugging as he slipped in gently beside you.

"Fuck dit is koud." [fuck this is cold] He cursed under his breath, sinking into the water, watching you with the dog. "What's his name?" He asked breaking the silence after a few moments. "Aussie." You replied ruffling the doggo's head. "What? Who names their dog Aussie?" He looked at you confused and you could only blink. "I did." You furrowed your eyebrows. "Oh . . ." He replied quietly, sinking deeper into the tub till the cold water covered his nose.

First time having a conversation with his teammate, his biggest rival, his biggest ally ( and childhood crush ) and he killed it, literally. Stabbed it right in the face.

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"She's scary." Lando shivered at the thought of your black helmet overtaking him. A certain group of drivers were clubbing, celebrating the race even though none of them won. And the said winner wasn't attending.

"I understand why some people call her a demon now. All she's missing is a tail and horns. I bet her eyes are red." Pierre grumbled sipping from his glass. "You're all sulking way too much." The unaffected Alex Albon commented. "Us? We're not even her teammates. Look at Max, he's dead." Charles pointed out at the Redbull driver that was practically unconscious from how much he was drinking. "If she really never loses, we're done, mate. Our only option is to wait till she retires."

Although Max was almost black out drunk, he still heard faint chatter from time to time. "only option is to wait till she retires." Max liked you as a driver, not a driver that was taking his wins away from him. 'Maybe we don't have to wait. We can force her to retire.' was the drunk though that passed through his brain. A thought that he should've left behind when he walked out of the club that night.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

MEDIA DAY Thursday May 4 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

"Hello, my name is Max Verstappen." "And my name is Seventeen and we are . . . I forgot sorry. Some one was walking by with cotton candy." You chuckled nervously looking back at the camera.

"We're playing 20 questions, with the goal of getting to know each other more. And by the end, the team are going to ask us 5 questions each and we have to know the answers to that." Max explained as you rocked your chair slowly to face him. "Alright. Who goes first?"

You ended up doing rock paper scissors, with Max winning. "Who is your favourite f1 driver?" You grimace thinking. "Umm, uhh. I say this and I don't have to hide my face anymore." You laughed. "I'm going to go with Seb." You nodded.

"Your favourite race circuit?" "I'll have to go with spa. Yours?" "Um, does it have to be a current track? Mine doesn't exist yet." You chuckled laughing. Through the game you found yourself loosening up, fining yourself more comfortable with your teammate. Max wasn't though, putting on a smile and forcing a laugh every once in a while.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

RACE DAY Sunday May 7 2023 — Hungaroring, Hungary

Lap 48 :: "Now on the soft rubber, we are watching Seventeen gaining with every metre onto her teammate ahead, Max Verstappen, her rival for the championship. She will pull out of the slipstream. Seventeen is on the attack, defence is on for Verstappen. The bulls going wheel to wheel." "Verstappen goes on the outside line but there will be better traction for Seventeen who stands on the throttle. She'll get DRS again and will fight into turn one. Can Verstappen offer a defensive line on the inside?"

"He's got no other choice! The bulls are wheel to wheel! Around the outside, will it be the lead? Its close between the two! The crowds are roaring and Seventeen takes the lead of the Miami grand prix having started fifth on the grid and losing positions down to tenth after the spin out on lap 22. She's passed all of them."

"Thanks, Max." You said through the radio as you felt yourself heave.

Lap 52 :: "Do you think . . . We can put on some music?" You said once you turned on the radio. "Because my ears feel empty and I have a horrible singing voice. I mean, There's no one else for us to overtake, no?" You could hear Jj's laugh over the radio, hearing his smile. "We are 14 seconds ahead of Max. So I guess maybe? Let me look into it."

it only took a few minutes before you were listening to Michael Jackson, singing along. "Cause this is thrillerrr!" You hummed along, your radio popping up on the stadium's speakers. "And that is, Seventeen listening to music, comfortable in P1."

Final Lap :: "Outstanding performance for Seventeen. She comes out of the final corners— And for the first time ever! Seventeen wins the Miami grand prix with a masterclass of performance! From tenth of the grid, to first." "Another one-two for red bull! Fantastic performance!"

"Wahoo!" You cheered pulling the steering wheel out once the car was turned off in front of the P1 board. Getting up on the halo, you celebrate by doing one more handstand, doing a leaning forward front-split this time. Once you got down, you fell into the hugs from your team, happiness clearly written in your eyes. "Thank you guys for all your hard work. Thank you so much!" You hugged and shook hands, sadly being ignored by Jos Verstappen but you didn't care.

Being up on the top of the grid again felt exhilarating and adrenaline fuelling. "I love you all so much." You blew kisses as you retreated to the cool down room. Getting up on the podium again felt euphoric. Raising your trophy for your team to see, you got down on your knees pressing the trophy to your forehead before hugging it tightly.

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echobx · 11 days

Text

not my type 3 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: y/n is trying to reconcile with her feelings towards Rafe

warnings: angsty, swearing, Rafe being a bit of an ass

word count: 3.1k

author's note: I don't really know what happened. I'm sorry /gen

part 1 part 2

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“What's he doing here?” you hiss at your best friend when you watch Rafe walk in, a blonde girl on his arm as he is greeted by your father. “Your dad invited all the partners, you signed up on that, remember,” Claire reminds you and you groan. If you had remembered that he'd be there, you would've worn something else. Something more revealing. “He doesn't look like-” Claire mumbles as you turn and drag her with you towards the bar. “I know he doesn't. And he's not my type. And I hate him,” you list, and she lifts her eyebrows at you. “But?” “I haven’t- I tried everything okay, literally everything. But I can't cum,” you whisper. “The only time I manage to even get close to it, is on my own picturing him. And I hate it. I don't like it at all. It's disgusting and shouldn't be happening. Especially not to me.” “I think we should get drunk. Hammered, actually. Like in college,” she smiles and orders two shots of tequila for each of you. You down the shots and turn back around to watch the mass of people in front of you. Everyone is mingling but no matter how much you try to not pay any attention to him, your eyes seem to be stuck. He looks good. Too good. The loose suit shirt half unbuttoned, giving view to his abs just enough to make you wanna rip the fabric off.

It had been three whole months. Three months since he had left you wanting more. Three months since you had made him sleep on your couch, denying him the pleasure to sleep in your bed after what he had pulled at the restaurant and when you had woken up he had been gone. No note. No goodbye. Nothing. It was a clean cut. The same thing you did the first time round. Just that he managed to make you cave, and you can't let it happen again. You have too much self-respect to let him get to you, again. Too much resentment towards him. Too much of all of it for him to ruin you. And besides, you can always hold onto the fact that he really isn't your type, he'd never be.

“Abort. Abort! Move, y/n/n! They are on their way over,” Clair pushes against you, but it feels like you're stuck. “And they're here.” “Mr. Cameron, you remember my daughter,” your dad smiles politely, and you do your best to mirror it, but refusing to actually look at Rafe. To meet his gaze and get lost in it. Too scared that it'll remind you of that day. You hold out your hand to shake his, but instead of giving it a proper shake, Rafe takes your hand softly into his own. He leans down and kisses your knuckles, staring right into your eyes, and you can swear your heart is about to stop. And there you are again, mentally trapped under the weight of his hot body, his eyes never leaving yours as he pounds into, nearly splitting you in half. You could swear he thinks of it too when your eyes linger before you harshly pull your hand away. “I remember him well. Please, do enjoy the party,” you say and quickly excuse yourself to the restroom.

You lock yourself in a stall, sitting down on the toilet and trying to keep yourself from crying. “Are you okay?” Claire asks and you let out a choked cry. “No. I don't think so, no.” You shake your head. It's unfair that you feel like this while he's perfect and not at all having any issues with it. “If you cry, bend over, so the tears fall on the floor and don't ruin your makeup,” she suggests, and you stand to follow her instructions, just in case. “Please tell me she's an escort. I can't deal with this if she isn't,” you press out. You don't know what exactly is wrong with you, never having been in a situation like this before. “I don't think so. But I can do some research on it and get back to you,” you hear her stilettos on the marble as she walks away. “He's no one. You don't care. You hate him. He's an asshole. A complete asshole,” you tell yourself, and it seems to help at first, but when you close your eyes he's there again. Brushing sweaty strands of hair from your face and telling you that you're his. And it all starts anew.

“Y/n? Are you still in there?” you hear Claire ask and reply with a quick “yes.” “So, not an escort, but they just met at a bar. I guess he just brought her along to mess with you.” “I think I'm having a heart attack,” your breath hitches, and you hold yourself up with a hand pressed to the stall door, still standing bent over like she had suggested earlier. “Okay, tell me your symptoms, and I'll look it up. I'm not gonna call an ambulance if it's not real,” she replies, and you hate that you love her for being so pragmatic. “I can't breathe, and my chest feels narrow and at the same time as if it's about to burst and I wanna rip his head off,” you cry out. “Yeah, no, WebMD says- Actually, you're probably right, it's probably just a heart attack,” your best friend doubles down quickly. Lifting your head you unlock the door and step out, snatching the phone from her hands to read the screen. “What the fuck does WebMD know about heartache? How am I supposed to even have gotten that? I don't even like anyone. Especially not Rafe Cameron!” you sneer. “Okay, let's just calm down and then go back out there and not make a scene. You think we can do that?” Claire slowly pulls her phone out of your claws, and you glare at yourself in the mirror. “Of course we can.” It takes you a second to switch up your face, back to smiling and pretending like your life was just as good as everyone thought it to be. “Who cares about some small town asshole, right?”

You manage to spend the rest of the night without much drama, always making sure to not be close enough to him so he couldn't share another look with you or even get close enough to pull you away.

And when you get home you pull off your heels and throw them to the side while stepping out of the elevator. It takes some time to peel yourself out of the outfit you had forced yourself into, and even longer to free your hair from all the fixing gel the stylist had put in it. In the end you find yourself curled up on your couch, sweats on and a blanket drawn over you while eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie, just to make it easier on your heart.

You really want to avoid going to the office the next day, but after your dad announced to open another office down in Florida, you didn't expect him to put so much of the work on you to make up for it. That's how you find yourself buried in paperwork and working through the night, making it 4am when you finally get back home. And you're exhausted, drained and moody and not at all able to rejoice. The job you once loved is reduced to a dull day to day bullshit that you can only imagine being the worst you have ever felt. And all of it was because of him.

“You need to look at the Cameron account. He says we gave him a bad deal. Fix it,” your dad orders the next day, and you grit your teeth, but you can't just not do it. This was professional, nothing personal should've ever gotten in the way of that. “I'll fly down next thing tomorrow morning,” you tell him and hang up the phone. But getting back to the paperwork seems impossible.

The jet lands and you smell the salty air, so clean compared to New York. “Do you want to go to the hotel to freshen up first, miss?” your driver asks. “No, take me to the office. I want to be off this island again, as fast as possible.”

“Mr. Cameron isn't available right now,” his assistant tells you and you scoff. “He’s not getting a better deal unless he gets his ass over here in the next five minutes. Do you understand that?” you stare her down, and she nods before getting on the phone. “He's on his way, Miss,” she says shyly after hanging up, and you smile at her. “Thank you.”

“Didn't think you'd actually come down here for it,” Rafe mocks a laugh as he walks into the building, pulling his glasses off. “I take my job rather seriously, Mr. Cameron.” You look him up and down, there is no mistaking. He had been out golfing. “Let's go to my office,” he starts walking, and you follow, clenching your jaw because your eyes keep darting down to his ass, that looks so delicious in the tight pants.

“What's the issue with the contract?” you ask flatly, whilst taking the seat opposite of him. “Oh, there's no issue with the contract. Not that I don't think it's a perfect contract, but it's giving good enough profit on my end, so I shouldn't care too much about it,” he waves it off and you can feel your blood boiling. “Why did you make me fly all the way down here for nothing!” You spit out and stand, harshly pushing your chair back as you do. “That's it, that's the issue. There's nowhere in there where it says ‘Miss y/l/n has to come and check in on Mr. Cameron every once a month.’ We missed that little line, I'm afraid,” he's cocky. Too cocky. And for once you don't find it charming. “I'm your boss, remember?” Your eyes narrow and he smirks deeply. “You wouldn't be if I dropped you. I can always just do that. Unless you don't want me to. We wouldn't wanna disappoint daddy, right?” he mocks and you swallow hard. But he's bluffing, he has to be. “He'll understand after I tell him how you took advantage of me. Two can play this game, Rafe,” you say his name with so much disgust in your voice that he's pretending to be offended by it. “If anything, you were the one taking advantage of me. I mean, you are my superior after all. And I'm just a young man, who lost his father and is struggling to keep his company afloat.” “You're a real asshole, you know that?” “Been told before,” he grins.

“What do you really want?” you finally cave and ask the question that had been lying on your tongue since landing on the island. “You,” he looks at you, no hint of a lie in his eyes. “I don't want you, though,” you lie nonchalantly. But your heart is racing, and the heat has been puddling in your pants for some time. “Why not?” “I don't need to give a reason for that. At least I didn't go around hiring escorts or whatever for events that no one even wanted me to be at,” you huff. “Your dad invited me personally. He called, telling me about how much of a Debbie Downer you are. He actually tried to apologize for your behavior that day,” Rafe laughs and your eye starts twitching, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching in anger. “Listen, I know it's partially my fault, but I was the only one there who was actually prepared to teach you a lesson. I don't know if you've learned it yet, but I'd be more than happy to give you a refresher on it.” “You're fucked in the head, Rafe,” you mutter before going to walk out. “Yeah, ‘cause I'm the one with the unresolved issues here,” he calls after you as you storm out.

You know you can't go home already, it'd be too suspicious, so you take the room at the dumb hotel and at least try to relax a little.

The next morning your dad calls just to tell you to check out on the properties, make sure that Rafe wasn't selling undervalue. You make your way to the construction sites, your jeans and skimpy shirt are the only thing covering your body as you fight the heat. “The best Italian marble, Miss,” the site manager tells you while walking you through what would later be the master-bathroom. “Looks good. Will you be able to stick to the schedule?” you ask and hear a familiar laugh behind you. “Of course they will, we've got only the best men down here, Miss.” Rafe walks over and you roll your eyes. “I care about numbers and about making my clients happy. The rest is not on my level of expertise, especially the quality of men down here,” you tell him before looking back at the manager. “Thank you so much for the tour.”

You turn in your heels and walk out to what will one day be a beautiful garden. “Walk with me, Cameron.” “Are you suddenly interested again, or?” “Keep it in your pants, asshole. No, and I'll never be ever again.” “You say that now,” he smirks, and you roll your eyes again. “I'm not a puppet for anyone. Not for my dad, and especially not for you. Do you understand?” you urge, and he runs his hand over the light stubble on his chin. “I was just like that, then my shit father died and some therapy later, and now we're better than ever.” “You're wrong. I'm not like you, and I'll never be. Wanna know why?” you lean in and he swallows. “Pretty sure you're about to tell me, sugar.” “Because I actually chose this life because I wanted it, not because I felt guilty or like I needed some praise. My life is perfect as is. Understood?” “Sure you are,” he laughs. “I am!” Rafe leans in and whispers, “is that what you tell yourself, late at night when you can't cum unless you think of me. The way I made you beg, and you could only finish ‘cause I let you. Because at the end of the day, you'll always be my good girl.” You push him away from you, watching him stumble backwards, before stomping back to the house, through it and getting into your car.

You can't help it, it feels like he's jinxed you. And when you're back at the hotel and try to get off, you once again can't. It's frustrating to say the least and the worst part of it is that he knows, and you don't know how he found out, but it's too late for that.

You didn't intend to find yourself knocking on his door. But here you are, standing in your sweats and hoodie, hammering on the windowpane until you can see him run down the stairs, and you wrap your arms around yourself. “What are you doing here?” Rafe asks but lets you in, anyway. “I had a nice life. I was content with it all. I was happy. I could go to clubs and hook up in a dirty bathroom and get off whenever I liked. I was free!” you yell at him, but it's hard to stay focused the way he's standing in front of you. Bare chest and gray sweatpants that never could've tried to hide the outline of his massive dick even if he had wanted to. “I understand,” he tries his best to not smile as he wets his lips. “You owe me one. That's for fucking sure. So, I came to cash it in so we can go back to pretending neither of us exist or have any interest in each other in any way. Ever. Good?” you tilt your head to the side before storming past him upstairs into his bedroom. “That's a really bad idea!” Rafe calls after you, but he's also not actively stopping you. And when you open the door to his bedroom you know why. Or better who.

“Are you coming back to bed?” His assistant is lying there, face pressed into his pillow and completely naked. “Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you huff a laugh, pushing past him just as he made it up the stairs. “Y/n, I can explain,” he tries, but you're filled with rage. “Why would you need to explain anything? You're free to do what you like, or in this case who. I just don't know if HR would like to know about this arrangement,” you scream, not giving a single fuck about the girl. “We don't have HR,” Rafe reminds you. “Fine. You're fired.” Your voice has reached a pitch that you had never heard of yourself before and breathing got harder by the second. “You can't fire me.” “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Rafe! I can do anything I want!” ‘Apart from getting what I want, what I need,’ you think, but you don't tell him that. “I would've kicked her out if I'd known,” he tries to console you while following you back downstairs. “Oh, that's really soothing. Thank you, Rafe,” you scoff. “You're acting a little crazy right now, sugar.” “Says the guy who made up an emergency, so I would have to come down here in the hopes that I'd jump his bones? And the fact that it would've nearly worked if you weren't so fucking selfish. You're such a selfish asshole!” You don't even realize that you're crying until you rip the door open and the cold wind makes your teary face feel frozen. “And you're a bitch,” he snaps back, finally actually fighting. “You left without saying goodbye!” “You made me sleep on the fucking couch!” “I should've kicked you out on the street!” “Why the fuck are you suddenly pretending to care so much about what I think or do? I'm not even your type, remember?” he sneers and your walls, the perfectly built walls inside of you start crumbling.

“I don't have a fucking type, Rafe! I don't get to have a type! I get to take any hot guy that thinks it'd be fun to fuck a fat chick, because they are high or have to get a dare out of the way. And you don't get to hurt me. You don't get to tell me how to feel about myself. Do you get that? This is my game, I'm the queen, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, you could be different. But you're not. You're just who I thought you'd be. No disappointment there.” Your rant calms you down a bit, and you get quieter with each sentence. “I'm going home. Don't even think about ever stepping foot into my city again.”

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taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180@drwstarkeyy@notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

part 4

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #my writing #angst

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